As Lyra crept back out of the palace, she made her way into the darker alleys of Stadrhym. Following a few pale markings her eyes were trained to catch, she found her way into a network of abandoned sewer tunnels until a shadowy figure reached out to her. She grabbed the hands and flipped the man but immediately helped him up. "Karlye, I assume. Nice to meet you in person."

The dark haired man took her proffered hand and after standing, shook it. "Likewise. What's the Tigress doing so far south?"

"Business. But that bit’s not for you to concern yourself with. I have a job for you and a message for the network."

"Big job then?"

"Wide but not deep. I'm sure you've heard of my family's...setback. I'm afraid I can't offer too much upfront, but by now you should know it won't be long before we are back on our feet. I need the guild to find someone. Harold Jarlson. I'm sure he's alive out there somewhere, probably praying to never see me again but I have use for him. He won't be hard to deliver, but I don't have time to drag him out of whatever hole he's hidden in."

"Jarlnapping is expensive."

"I'm putting him back on his throne and those who know he's gone think he's dead. Shouldn't be a problem for the guild. You worry about the job and I'll secure your payment."

"Very well. Though I feel I should warn you, others will say I am ill-advised to take a job from you on credit considering recent events."

Lyra hissed and resisted the urge to attack, to hold a dagger to the man's neck and watch his sly expression change as she held power over his life. Patience. He was just giving her free information.

She did shift her weight, moving an inch closer. "Understandable. For your tip I'll give you some advice. Perhaps this was a setback for the Bear, but for me...well let's call this process a metamorphosis. I've always taken advantage of events and this one may be my most profitable yet. I'll find you again in a few weeks for an update if Harold hasn't been delivered to the estate. Avoid the Wolf and Bear if possible and if I am not home, deliver to Vai. He will take care of Harold until I return."

Karlye nodded and they parted ways, eyeing each other for signs of betrayal or dishonesty. Lyra checked another item off her mental list. Now she just needed money. She left Stadrhym to find her brother.

She found him near the border of Vanhelm, laughing with his men, a large boar roasting on the fire as they swapped tall tales. She materialized at his side, swiping his dinner plate. "Evening, Fen."

Fenrin glanced over and flinched, his men laughed and he snatched his plate back. "Gods, Lyra, you're like a mosquito sometimes. If you're not careful you'll get smashed like one."

Grinning she leaned forward to put her hands near the fire. It was getting colder and she'd travelled all day. "I'm always careful. Do you have a moment to talk?"

Fenrin stabbed a large chunk of pork and shoved in his mouth before tossing his plate down and pulling her out of the ring of men. Once they were out of earshot he wiped his mouth. "What?"

"I need some money, you got a target?"

Fenrin frowned. "Get your own."

She eyed him carefully, she knew her brother too well for him to hide anything. She grinned, "You don't have a target. What, are you just out here partying?"

He growled, "Of course I have a target. Just not the kind you're looking for. As I'm sure you've noticed, whispers of our loss are everywhere and somebody has to make sure no one comes looking too close. The Bear’s out moping on his own and gods know where you disappear to, it's only a matter of time until the crown comes looking for us again."

Lyra cocked her head, Fenrin really was taking charge. He was stepping into his inheritance neatly and she felt...proud. Her instinct to tease him quashed, she smiled. "Have no fear, brother. I am working on that problem as well in my way. Having the Jarl's chair empty is dangerous, so I'll find our good friend Harold to fill it. You did say you didn't kill him, correct?"

Fenrin rubbed his chin. "No, his father's last words were for me to spare him. If he'd been home, he'd be dead but the late Jarl must've had the sense to send him off. I doubt he'll want to come back but it would certainly make things easier. We keep having to intercept couriers and frankly is a pain in the ass and a waste of our time. The sooner authority is re-stabilized, the more likely the crown will decide to move on. I'm more concerned with the other Jarls. We've seen the size of some of their private armies and if Hjor remains Jarlless, they'll look to expand their territory."

Patting his arm affectionately, Lyra said, "Look at you, thinking through the politics. Maybe I'm rubbing off on you after all."

He grimaced and she laughed. After a moment he did too and she continued, "You're right. We'll get Harold back on the throne but we still need to deal with the nosy neighbors. But look, they can't host an army without funds. Let's hit them there. They won’t be able to mobilize and we'll have the funds we need to finish rebuilding."

Fenrin thought it out. "Thieving is your area. There hasn't been much to take on the roads of late, I'm assuming you've got a plan?"

"Forming one. Tell me what you've seen."

Her brother leaned against a tree counting them off on his fingers. "Taka's had her eyes on us but nothing too pushy, with Hurson dead, Vosfell is under High King's rule though I'm sure Maelif will take a cut of the land, Trandil keeps sending messengers and scouts in, we even caught some Kolsvik men on the coast."

Lyra processed this. "Taka won't cause us trouble, our relationship is too profitable, Jarl Maelif will definitely take most of Voswell though. The crown is too weak to stop her. Kolsvik won't have the guts to risk traveling through two Jarldoms if Harold is back on the throne. Greystone's interference is worrisome, Jarl Trandil has a good position with few enemies and even our work to keep his armies small hasn't entirely succeeded since he has access to Imperial mercenaries to the north."

She began to pace, thinking out loud for her brother to follow.

"The king will want things stabilized, will place a new Jarl in Voswell soon which means Maelif will have to make her move quickly. Voswell is a wealthy Jarldom but it’s fort is closer to us than to her. Let's take advantage of the land grabbing. We can go after Voswell's wealth and make it look like it was Taka's doing. She'll have her fingers too deep in the pie to avoid taking the fall. She'll be ticked, but she'll get her land and we'll make it up to her later. Your men should focus on keeping Trandil in Greystone and holding the north border. You, me, and a few of our best men will raid Voswell."

Fenrin rolled his shoulders. "I like it. I'll have Jaired watch the coast as well, just in case."

He turned and headed back to his men. Lyra watched from the fringes as he rallied the bandits and gave orders. Fenrin was so easy to use, she would have felt bad if he didn't enjoy being told what to do and being given charge of something so much.

The raid went exactly as Lyra had laid out. A few flashes of Taka’s emblem during the attack and they escaped with plenty of goods and no one chasing them back to Hjor. Within days, the High King appointed a temporary steward, an older retired general named Kirdin who wouldn’t be intimidated by Maelif, who clearly planned to take the western edge of Voswell, cutting off its access to the east coast entirely and doubling her own coastline.

Border negotiations were underway and Fenrin's men intercepted a courier heading for Hjor. At the south border the siblings looked over the notice.

It was an invitation to Stadrhym. The Jarls were to meet to discuss the new borders. It was meant for Jarl Soren.

"Well, in a week the whole country will know he's dead and Hjor will be divided up." Fenrin huffed. Lyra waggled a finger.

"Patience. The guild will pull through. You keep an eye on things here. I'll take care of this."

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Fenrin growled, not appreciated being ordered around but Lyra paid no mind, turning her sights back towards the estate. The large town was still mostly empty, a few businesses had reopened and people who had fled at the Jarl's death had begun to creep back following word of stability...and the Bear's general absence.

When Lyra opened the door to the estate, she felt a twinge of sadness. She missed Ulris. He'd been more of a parent to her than anyone else and she'd underestimated how vital he'd been to keeping things running even in his old age. Normally he'd be there to greet her, giving her a thorough but concise report of the estate and getting her whatever she needed. Her consolation was that mere moments after her arrival, Vai appeared.

"Mistress Lyra, welcome home!"

The tall golden-skinned man bowed deep and she let him help her take her coat off, the first snow having already fallen over Valhym. Vai ordered a few servants to fetch her a meal and lead her to her room. He paused at the door, turning back to her. "Your guest is awaiting inside."

Lyra blinked and then grinned, reaching and opening the door. Harold was sitting on a chair in an open area of the room, ropes tied to the ceiling held his hands above him and he turned when she entered. He jumped out of the chair and it fell clattering to the ground as strained against the ropes.

"Gods, no! Someone help!" The man screamed and Lyra grinned as she slowly approached.

"Well, well, the prodigal son returns."

As she drew closer, Harold kicked out desperately. Lyra caught his ankle and gave it a twist, throwing him off balance and he flopped awkwardly, held up by his tied hands struggling to get his feet back under him.

She lunged forward, grabbing his chin. At her touch his struggles stopped and he dangled limply on his knees, arms still secured above his head. She glanced at them, his sleeves were stained copper and his wrists raw. He also was sporting a large purple black bruise on the side of his face and his hair was unkempt and haggard.

"You seem a bit worse for wear, Jarlson. Surely Vai has taken care of you."

Vai walked over and righted the chair. "He has been attended to, although some measures were necessary. He was delivered here two days ago...I beg forgiveness that I have not made him more presentable."

Lyra laughed. "Where were you Harold? What hole did my associates pull you out of?"

Harold stiffened. "It doesn't matter. Their kindness has already been poorly repaid I'm sure."

"Oh, so you did have help." She stood up and gestured to the chair. "Sit down and put your mind at ease. The party that retrieved you were members of the Thieves Guild and although you may not believe me, they don't kill innocents. I didn't pay them enough for them to kill anyone anyway, stealing you was their job, nothing more."

Harold Jarlson didn't move, his face pained as he processed this. As if trying to convince himself, he said, "I won't tell you anything." His voice cracked and Lyra laughed again.

"Vai, help him to his seat. Do not worry, although you've annoyed me by taking so long to find, I'm sure we can work something out and you can cure my ill will without your benefactors getting involved."

Vai slid the chair over and lifted Harold off the floor. The man obediently sat down, his hair falling in front of his face as his head hung low.

"Chin up, Harold, you're home now. I don't blame you for what happened to our house. Your late father was clever sending you away and now it's time for your triumphant return."

Harold flinched. Lyra walked over and cut the rope and his hands fell into his lap. He turned to look up at her, confusion in his eyes. "What are you talking about? You won, the Jarldom is yours."

Lyra put her hands on his shoulders, standing behind him. She leaned in, "I don't want your Jarldom, Harold. I want you back on the throne. Look, I've even been collecting your mail for you."

She dangled the letter in front of him so he could read it. He stiffened again. "You want me to go pretend nothing happened."

"See, this is why I like you, Harold. You're smart enough to figure things out on your own."

"No."

Lyra froze, Harold hunched over, his tied fists pressed into his forehead. "I won't go back under your thumb. I'd rather die."

Lyra swallowed her rage. Instead she leaned over farther, whispering in his ear. "You never left Harold. If you wanted to die you would have stayed to join your father under my brother's blade. It's time to come home."

Harold jerked up and Lyra narrowly avoided his head smashing into her face. He stood and whirled, backing towards the window. "No! I was free and I won't go back! I'm tired of being your puppet. Kill me and be done with it."

Lyra's eyes narrowed and she stalked towards Harold, who kept stepping back. "I have no time for your pouting, Harold. I'm not going to kill you, but if punishment is what you seek, I'm happy to oblige."

Harold turned and pounded at the window, desperately trying to undo the latch with his bound hands. Lyra lunged and grabbed his hair pulling him backwards and throwing him on the ground. He gasped at his head cracked against the blackened floor.

"Vai, fetch me more rope."

The slave left quickly, not wanted to be in the room for what was about to happen. Lyra kicked Harold in the side and he curled into a fetal position.

"Harold. You've forgotten how to obey and now you've got to be punished. One day of hell." She stepped on his head and leaned down. "No matter what you say or do now, it won't stop. One day of torture and then I'll ask again if doing what I ask is really so terrible."

The man whimpered, trying to block out her voice. Lyra walked to the fireplace and began heating the poker. Harold didn't move. She brought back the hot iron and jabbed him in the thigh. He unrolled and screamed, twisting away from the iron. He crawled away from her and she slowly pursued until trapped in a corner, he turned.

"No. Stop," He croaked, his eyes not leaving the white hot iron. She swung it and he reflexively held up his hands to block the strike. She feinted and swiveled the iron and it thudded with a hiss into his side. She repeated the blows, beating him with the rod and leaving burning welts along his ribs. Vai came in and she paused, Harold collapsing to the floor. She handed Vai the iron and he took it gingerly and replaced it by the fire.

Vai stood uncomfortably beside her as she uncoiled the rope. She made a noose and slipped it over Harold's neck. He tried to resist but she yanked it and he fell sputtering back down. She moved down and tied his feet to the other end of the noose and Harod flinched, tightening it more. He choked out some pleas but Lyra ignored him. She waved Vai over and he helped her drag Harold by his ankles back to the chair. Reluctantly, Vai helped her hang him upside down from the ceiling.

Harold face went from pale to blue to red as the blood rushed down. Lyra checked the noose wasn't going to kill him and grabbed a scarf to gag him.

"Leave, Vai. Come back in five hours with my dinner." She didn't glance up as the servant left hastily. She cut off Harold's torn shirt and the man shook with sobs. Unsheathing a dagger, she began cutting thin lines down his chest. He screamed under the gag and she tutted.

"One day."

Vai tried to stay out of the room as much as possible. He nearly passed out when he'd brought dinner and saw the bloodied man and his mistress standing in a pool of red, the viscera coating her arms as well.

Lyra continued through the night, never letting Harold pass out for too long. Buckets of water, soiled cloth, and a number of bottles with strong smelling herbs littered the room. When dawn finally broke and Harold was revived for the fifth time, Vai arrived with breakfast.

Harold's eyes rolled up in pain and he shook as Lyra carefully pricked liquid coated needles into his face and stomach. As Vai placed the tray down and tried to avoid looking at the scene of torture, Lyra spoke low. "Vai."

He turned and she stood, leaving her poison to continue her work unattended. She left the room and Vai followed gratefully. Lyra wiped her soiled hands on her pants. "In three hours I want you ready with two baths. I also need a coffin brought up here."

Vai felt his mouth go dry, but he nodded and set out to find what his mistress asked of him. He stopped the gravekeeper's men at the top of the stairs, electing to push the oak coffin through the doors to Lyra's room himself.

She turned and nodded. Harold's chest was a mess of cuts, burns, and blackened marks. His head was soaked and a bucket of putrid water was below him. The man was obviously unconscious.

"Help me cut him down."

Vai gingerly held the man as Lyra cut the rope. His dead weight made Vai grunt and Lyra helped him lift Harold and place him in the coffin.

"You can go. Two hours," she said shortly and Vai shut the door quickly.

Lyra tossed a few sprigs on Harold's face and shut the coffin. It took about ten minutes until he woke and she heard him scream his tortured limbs futilely pounding on the walls and his nail scratching the wood. She sat atop the casket, keeping it securely closed, Harold’s weakened limbs unable to even budge the top.

Finally, the time was up. Harold was still and she guessed he'd passed out again. She lit another sprig and shut the smoking plant in with Harold. It would ensure he slept for a few more hours yet, completely dead to the world. As if sensing her wish, Vai reappeared. She threw the coffin lid open and began stripping herself of her soiled clothes.

Following her to the bathroom, Vai helped her clean herself of the blood and filth. When it was finished and she was redressed in one of her finer outfits, she turned to Harold. "Clean him up and set a table."

"It will be done."

Vai set about his task, much more comfortable healing than hurting. With the gentlest of hands he cleaned Harold's wounds. There were hundreds but few were deep. He trimmed his hair, bandaged his cuts, and put poultice on his burns.

He shook his head at how careful Lyra had been. There were almost no marks on his face or hands. The bruise had been there when Harold had been dropped unceremoniously at the estate steps. His throat was red and raw but that would fade quickly. The deepest wounds were the deep gashes on his wrists from struggling against the ropes. Lyra gave Vai some clothes, no doubt taken from Harold's home, and Vai dressed the unconscious man.

Then he set to the room, scrubbing the floor and disposing of her tools. A small table was brought up and two chairs from the Jarl's dining room set at it. Vai carefully carried Harold and set him on the chair as Lyra lightly secured him upright with rope. She waited patiently as Vai set the table and Harold swam back to the land of the living.