Morning rays filtered through the massive windows that lined the upper walls of the stairway. Mikel’s boots echoed on the stone surface of the steps as he reached the top of the stairs. The throne room occupied half of the second floor of the Tower of Tarn. Most of the upper floors were in disuse, and few people ever ventured higher than the fifth floor except for the Valtyra, who could fly to the very top from the outside. It was rumored that the original portal was created within these walls.

Massive wooden carvings stretched from floor to ceiling on either side, many of them depicting monsters and warriors from ages past, locked in eternal battle. A long history of war littered the past of the citizens of Avskild. So many years of peace made those ancient wars feel like merely myth and legend.

Some said the Tower of Tarn existed over two-thousand years ago, long before the Grimnirs ever came to be. When the Grimnirs came along, they salvaged it. Made it their stronghold. Those were much darker times.

Ahead of him, pacing in front of the throne, was King Knos. Standing. Not sitting. The very fact that Knos was up and ready at such a time was already alarming.

Mikel closed his fists and steadied his breath, steeling himself for what was to come.

Accompanying Knos were his two constant companions, Lorelai, the royal attendant, her rust-colored hair tied back into a thick braid, and Daelen, the King’s Guard, his stern gaze fixed on Mikel.

A long, elaborate rug stretched the distance from the stairs to the throne, and it did little to mask Mikel’s steps as he approached. He’d already imagined how this conversation would go, and considered it in his best interest to keep the conversation as simple as possible. All he needed to do was make the king feel as though things were being handled.

Knos paused his pacing and clasped his hands behind him. He was a large man, taller than most, with reddish brown hair that was shorn on the sides, and a short, well-trimmed beard. An intricate sword was sheathed at his waist, though he’d likely never used it. The weapon itself was as important as the crown on Knos’s head—perhaps more important as a symbol of his position. It had been passed down for generations.

His face lacked expression, though his head tilted slightly to one side. An elaborate necklace of silver and gold from his neck, and he wore a green tunic laced with gold. Knos pursed his lips as Mikel continued toward him and his attendants.

“How is it possible?” Knos asked, his voice low, words spoken with slow ease.

Mikel took a few more steps before stopping, still several paces away from where Knos had been pacing in front of the throne. He used every final step to finalize how he would address the matter with the king. “We have eradicated the entire threat, Lord King. The Grimnir Guard suffered no casualties.”

“A boy was injured,” Knos said, voice sharpening. “A student at Vrodr. Not slain, certainly, but still a casualty, is it not?”

Mikel swallowed. He wasn’t sure how Knos had received all of his information, and did not know that such details had reached him. It had been too optimistic of him to assume that this would have been an easy conversation. “True, Lord King. A misguided decision by one of the students, but I will communicate with Instructor Lind Hjordis to ensure that each student has sufficient understanding of protocol.”

Knos nodded but kept his eyes fixed on Mikel. “It is well, but you also evaded my question. How was it possible?”

Lorelai, the royal attendant, folded her arms, her dark gray eyes feeling especially sharp as she glared at Mikel. How he answered this question could elicit reactions he did not want to deal with, but he was up to the task. Such was his role as the captain.

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Mikel cleared his throat. “The origin of these draugrs is unknown. It seems unlikely that an entire ship of them could have been created here within Avskild. It seems most plausible that there was a potential breach in the portal safety around Avskild.”

Lorelai’s glare shifted to a disapproving shake of her head, subtle, but he still caught it.

Knos lifted a finger, mouth open. “Not possible,” he said. “There has not been a breach of our defenses in over three-hundred years. I have followed the same protocol as the kings and queens before me with even greater finality than they. So no, do not suggest such folly.”

Mikel nodded. “Certainly.” That meant he would not be sharing the details about sending soldiers to investigate the portals. If he didn’t mention it, then the king would not protest the investigation. “There is the possibility then that the ship and the corpses of the draugrs have been resting on the seafloor for these many years. Perhaps a fisherman accidentally recovered something that belonged to them, and this triggered their lust for vengeance. Disturbing resting places can have such effects.” He’d made that up, hoping the king was not as well versed in the sagas and stories shared around fires. A spirit could be disturbed in such scenarios, but that certainly would not trigger the summon of a draugr. Such undead were only created through evil acts done to them while still alive.

If a breach in the portal defenses had occurred, the king would be the last man in Avskild to admit as much.

Knos tapped his chin with his thumb as he chewed on Mikel’s words. When the king looked to Lorelai, Mikel knew he had to say something else before the woman caught on. She had a reputation for trying to know everything, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she would be able to catch his bluff better than the king.

“Lord King,” Mikel said hurriedly. “We have not previously had a Grimnir stationed at the guardhouse at the docks. I have already assigned it as a regular station for the Watchers. We’ve already made preparations to have one in house, and another on patrol during the primary operation time of the fishers and dock workers. We have some Watchers paired with various birds that would make good coverage. We’d be able to rally even quicker with that arrangement.”

Knos snapped his fingers. “That’s the kind of response I wanted from you, Captain Vigsen. But tell me, why were the docks not already manned by Grimnirs?”

Mikel’s eyes dropped. Every year there were fewer and fewer Grimnirs. “We’ve been stretched thinner these last few years. Each year we have fewer students. Previously, the docks were directed by Voyagers, but… as you know, Lord King, the Voyagers are all gone. We have had some militia fill in for certain roles to compensate. Such was the situation at the docks.”

“This could work, but where will you pull the additional Grimnirs from?”

“Patrols to the outer villages,” Mikel replied without hesitation. “We just have to reduce frequency with those. I’ve already issued the orders, and everything should be in place by this afternoon.”

Knos glanced at Lorelai one more time, but the woman said nothing. “It is well,” Knos said. “Ensure that those militia receive better training as well.”

Mikel inclined his head with a slight bow. “Wise counsel, Lord King. I will see it done.”

“And no more nonsense about a breach in the portal defenses,” Knos said, grabbing Mikel by the shoulder in a tight grip. He was close enough that Mikel could smell the fish on his breath. “Stamp out any such rumor.”

Mikel placed a hand over his heart. “Of course, my king. Gossip about such things may only be detrimental.” He refused to look over at Lorelai, though he knew she was scrutinizing him.

The very fact that King Knos was so insistent about not even exploring the possibility about a breach in the portals made Mikel that much more interested in getting the results from the scouts he’d sent.

“Too true,” Knos said, loosening his grip to pat Mikel’s shoulder instead. “That should be all, Mikel. Peace.”

Mikel bowed his head once again, relieved to hear the king use his first name. “Peace.” He stepped away and strode back towards the stairs. He’d long considered himself to be one of the king’s trusted advisors, but he’d grown to understand that Knos maintained a very close group. Despite the fact that Mikel was the commander of their army, there were many things the king did not share with him. The insistence around the portals for instance was concerning, though he feared that asking why the king was so dismissive regarding the portals would only result in him losing the favor he had worked hard to gain.

In his heart, he hoped the king was merely stubborn. Of course something wouldn’t have harmed the portals, and without any Voyagers, there was nobody on the entire island who could open the portals. Except, perhaps, Irena or Lind. There was no doubt a spell out there that would allow them to open one of the portals, though he’d never be able to get them to confirm if they could.

But then again, there were also many mysteries to the world. Things could always change.