Holding a hand out toward the tent, Thorun teased, “Princes first.”

Oskar opened his mouth to speak, but quickly thought better of it. He simply ducked inside the tent and took a seat on one of the blankets. His guards settled around him, forcing some distance between him and the sisters. Thorun lounged in the other end of the tent while Yri counted cups and poured wine. Handing drinks to Thorun and Sylvia first, she then poured some for herself and finally handed the bottle over. Oskar hesitated momentarily. Tone accepted the bottle in his stead, and poured the drink for them. Once everyone had a cup, Yri relaxed back.

“Welcome to our camp.”

“Thank you for having us”, Oskar replied politely.

There was a drawn out silence. Yri sipped her wine.

“What, erm, proof would you need in order to join us?”, Oskar finally asked.

“You could start by explaining how exactly you intend to complete this quest for the throne”, Thorun said.

“I am an heir of Floki, which means I have a claim.”

Yri eyed Oskar sceptically from across the tent.

“That does not answer my question. Do you have an army? Do you have a plan? Do you know how to use that oversized woodcutter you dropped outside?”, Thorun asked impatiently.

Oskar nodded. “I do have soldiers, if perhaps not an entire army. That is why I called on you, Fri. I wish to unite our troops to form a viable army.”

“And then what?”

“We march for the capital”, Oskar answered.

Thorun and Yri exchanged a long look and then burst into laughter.

Oskar frowned at the sisters. “I fail to see what is so funny.”

“It is not much of a plan”, Sylvia said.

Surprised at the interference from the young woman, Oskar frowned disapprovingly. “And why is that?”

“None of us even knew who you were until your letter arrived in Fristad. Sure, the people of the east have heard the name AudOlafsson, but Oskar?” Sylvia shook her head. “Besides, these years of chaos have been long, and hard on commoners. Why would they trust you to lead them? What have you done for them? Where were you when the draught began? Where were you when the Wolves attacked? Why would anyone accept you as king? A claim is not enough to lead a country, not in times like these.”

Oskar looked deeply uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and nodded. “I hear you, Fri. It was the advance of the Wolves which awoke me to this problem, made me realise that I need allies in my quest. The Wolves plundered many villages in our lands and we had a hard time tracking them down, and pushing them back north into their lair. I do not know what the best approach is”, he admitted. “What I do know, is that I have to protect the people of Sev. Protecting my people is my duty. That, I know in my heart.”

“Touching”, Yri commented dryly.

“Very well then, Protector of Sev”, Thorun teased. “Let us say we devise a plan, march into the capital, and crown you king. What exactly do you imagine yourself doing then? What would you decree?”

“I would aim to rule justly”, Oskar stated.

“Meaning?”, Thorun asked, waving a hand impatiently.

“I would make sure that the Royal Army protects the roads, so people may travel and trade freely. I would not take any more from farmers than they can afford. No tax collectors, but trade, the way it has been in the east since the fall of the Crown. I would not pardon murder, and I would ensure thieves and bandits get punished in accordance to the law”, Oskar enumerated.

Yri grumbled something into her cup. Thorun gave her a meaning look and she responded with a shrug.

“We are going to need a moment to discuss”, Thorun determined.

“Of course. I understand”, Oskar nodded.

The sisters got up, and Sylvia followed them outside. Instead of walking toward camp, the three of them waved their guards off and headed toward the arable. They stopped at the edge of an oat field a good five minutes walk from the tent, where no one could possibly overhear their conversation.

“He is an idiot”, Yri stated.

“Good”, Thorun said. “That will make him easier to control.”

“We do not need him.”

“I thought we already had this discussion”, Thorun teased.

“It makes no sense”, Yri argued. “Sure, some assholes will have a problem accepting a ruling queen, but since when do we let that stop us? You did not ask if people would be okay with a woman in charge when you built Fristad, or when you took over Holmen. Why are you asking now? And do not give me some shit about not wanting the negative attention. We both know that you could not care less.”

“What would you have me do, then? I have no claim.”

“Let him back you as ruler instead. If all he truly wants is to protect his people, he will not object. If he does not agree, then we know he is full of shit.”

“You think like a soldier only”, Thorun sighed.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“All I am saying is that he can be of use to us. Think about it.”

“His claim? Yes. He? Hardly. We have not needed a man before, and we certainly do not need one now.”

“Yes. We can crown a ruling queen. Of course. But at what cost?”, Thorun challenged. “How much blood do we want to spill over a principle?”

Yri scoffed in answer.

“She is right. Not everyone is willing to die for the sake of semantics”, Sylvia interrupted. “It will be a far greater battle if we try to crown a ruling queen than if we crown a ruling king, especially when the man has a claim and the woman does not. As stupid and infuriation as that is, it is fact.”

“So you would rather have me put that arrogant dim-whit on the throne?”, Yri glowered.

“Yes”, Thorun stated.

“You cannot be serious. He has no vision of his own. He will fill his table with the same old men. Nothing will change. In that case, I prefer no Crown at all.”

“I think we can influence him”, Sylvia argued.

“Exactly”, Thorun nodded. “He may be stupid, but he is loyal. Even a blind man could read it in his eyes. I will make him swear to me. He will not re-instate those fools. How many wise men remain in the capital today anyway? They are cowards. But we will be there when Oskar ascends the throne. We will be at his side every step of the way. He is loyal and we will give him a crown. We will be his advisers, his generals. We can isolate him if need be. We will have the true power, and he will make a fine puppet.”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“What if he does not? What if he is not as loyal as you think?”, Yri argued.

“He is.”

“What if he is not?”, Yri insisted

“Accidents happen, evidently even to kings”, Thorun said. She looked to Sylvia for support.

Sylvia nodded in agreement. “There is always time to crown a ruling queen later if need be. His claim can only help us.”

There was a prolonged pause. Sylvia looked between the sisters. Thorun was waiting impatiently and Yri was glowering. Eventually, Thorun sighed audibly.

“Sister. Dearest. I know you do not like it, but as you yourself put it so eloquently, most men are easiest to control when they are on top of you. I am done having this conversation. This alliance is happening.”

“You are ordering me?”, Yri grumbled.

“If I have to.”

Yri huffed. “Unbelievable.”

Thorun crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you done having a fit?”

Yri straightened her back and lowered her head ever so little. She held her hands out to the sides in defeat. “It will be as you say.”

“Just think of the lives it will spare in upcoming battles”, Thorun encouraged.

“Yes, yes, you have a good point. Do not gloat. It does not become you.”

“Should we go back and tell him?”, Sylvia asked.

“Yea. Let us give him the good news. I intend to enjoy the feast tonight”, Thorun smirked, rubbing her hands together.

“I bet you will. I noticed one of the archers eyeing you”, Yri teased.

“Oh? Which one?”

“I believe her name was Una.”

“She has been looking at you rather intently”, Sylvia agreed.

Smiling, Thorun nodded to herself. She led them back to the tent and they reconvened. Oskar looked at them expectantly when they settled down, but just as before, the sisters took their time relaxing and sipping wine. Sylvia understood the purpose of their behaviour when she watched the expression on Oskar’s face transition from curiosity to doubt, and finally to worry.

“Have you reached a decision?”, Oskar asked.

“That depends”, Yri shrugged.

“On what?”

“Adherence to our terms.”

“What are they?”

Thorun placed her hand on the ground, presenting her palm to Oskar. “If you want our help, you will not take any former member of the Crown into your council. You will make Fristad a legal city under the Crown, and you will give high ranking positions to Fri. I am talking about the army, the council, mayors, whatever else may become relevant. And you will not argue with me. You do not have a plan. You have no strategy nor experience. I do.”

Oskar pressed his lips into a thin line. He eyed the cup of wine in his hands with a thoughtful expression. After a while, he nodded. Leaning forward, he placed the tips of his fingers against Thorun’s palm. “I accept those terms. I swear to abide by your rules.”

Thorun smiled. “Then we have an understanding.”

“I am glad”, Oskar said.

Straightening her back, Thorun instructed, “We will make Fristad our base. Leave enough troops in Nordborg to protect your lands and bring the rest to us as soon as possible. We will await your arrival.”

“I thought we would use Nordborg as our main base. We have a castle and strong defences”, Oskar suggested.

“What did I just say about arguing with me?”, Thorun asked sharply.

Oskar opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it again and nodded. “I will see to it.”

“Good”, Thorun said flatly.

“For now, do return to the city and get changed”, Yri smiled. “We are not at war, are we? We are allies now, so take off your armour and we will throw you a feast.”

“We could…”, Oskar began. He shook his head. “That sounds great.”

“If you are bringing more than thirty men, please also provide some additional food and drink”, Yri encouraged before getting up.

“We will provide plenty”, Oskar agreed.

Rising to his feet as well, he held out a hand and Yri shook it. Thorun emptied her cup and got up as well. Ignoring Oskar’s outstretched hand, she left the tent.

“Do not take offence. It is not our way to shake hands”, Yri explained before heading after her sister.

Oskar stood bewildered for a moment before regaining his composure and taking his leave.

“That was quick”, Bothilder commented when they emerged from the meeting.

“Tell Frida she has work to do. We feast”, Yri instructed.

“So we are doing it?”, Bothilder asked happily.

“Seems like it”, Yri shrugged.

Thorun came up behind her and draped an arm over her shoulders. “I can tell that you are happy”, she teased.

“Whatever”, Yri huffed.

Thorun poked her in the side and she grumbled.

“You are happy”, Thorun teased, poking her again.

“One more and I break it”, Yri warned.

Grinning brightly, Thorun poked her a third time, and then sprang back before Yri could even turn around. Yri spat in her general direction. Laughing heartedly, Thorun began to gather her equipment from the ground.

Sylvia kept her eyes on Oskar. He seemed unsure just what to make of the sisters and their erratic behaviour. He kept glancing over at them, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not keep the frown off his face. Picking up his shield and axe, he strapped them, and waited while his guards collected their weaponry in turn.

Theodorus took the longest to gather his equipment. He had to pull his boots back on and stash a myriad of little needles, daggers, and miscellaneous sharp items under his cloak. Lastly, he picked up the piece of metal he had spat out earlier. Looking around, he located his cup, but found it empty. Sylvia crouched down beside him and held out her own half-full cup of wine.

“Cheers”, Theodorus smirked, accepting the drink. Placing the metal on his tongue, he took a sip of wine, swished, and spat the fluid out on the ground. He grimaced and then offered the cup back. When Sylvia waved a hand, he shrugged and downed the rest, before pulling his face guard up and getting to his feet.

Sylvia took her dagger and watched the five riders leave. The entire cavalry on the road below turned around, each horse rearing around so the last rider was suddenly the first. Once the rows were steady again, the troop returned to the city with Oskar at the tip.

“How did it go?”, Afi asked.

“We are allies now, so I guess well?”, Sylvia answered. She was not entirely sure how long the alliance was going to last, though. She hoped for Oskar’s sake that he really was as loyal as Thorun made him out to be.

When Oskar returned, he did so on foot. Behind him trailed a good fifty men and women in causal clothes, some carrying baskets of food or rolling barrels of beer. Instead of armour, Oskar wore a thick fur lined coat, held up by a golden clasp over a rich red tunic. His four guards were still armed to the teeth, but that did not seem to bother the sisters in the least.

Yri clapped Oskar on the back with unnecessary force. “Come on, have a seat. Let us enjoy the evening”, she urged. Draping an arm over his shoulder, she led him further into camp.

Beside the baker’s tent, a smaller fire had been built. The inner circle, as well as Oskar and his guards, settled by it. Frida came over at once to hand them all mugs and plates. She also provided cutlery, and then began fetching meat, bread, and fruit. Oskar was surprised when he saw the selection. Pig, chicken, dove, rabbit, and horse. Apples, pears, citrus, and an unfamiliar variety of peaches. Five types of bread, and butter to top it with. It was rare for a troop on the road to have such variety at hand.

Oskar waited for some sort of ritual or speech, but the Fri began eating without further ceremony. Imitating his hosts, he too picked items off the platers in no particular order, and soon his guards dared to join in on the fun as well. While the Fri ate with their hands, Oskar and his guards ate with cutlery. On either side, there was one who broke the pattern. Sylvia ate at least partially with cutlery while Theodorus abandoned his.

Sylvia eyed the mysterious man sitting beside her. Without the large coat, she could see just how dainty he was. His clothes were tight, and he was as thin as a twig. If not for the armoury worth of weapons strapped to his body, he would have seemed delicate. He did not seem to have much of an appetite, either, picking at a single chicken leg. Most curiously, he did not remove his owl mask when he ate, merely pulling the face guard from his mouth.

Oskar and Yri exchanged pleasantries, handing each other bread and refilling another’s cups with plenty of wine. They discussed the past couple of years, the draught, the financial situation, and the advance of the Wolves. Sylvia tried to listen, but found herself frustratingly sidetracked. Theodorus’s presence had an odd urgency to it, demanding her attention. She could feel his gaze on her from underneath his mask, prickling her skin.

She turned to him and frowned. “Why are you staring at me?”

“I am not staring”, Theodorus said at once.

“Yes you are”, Sylvia insisted.

“Sorry.”

Theodorus said the word, but it was hollow. He clearly did not think that he had anything to apologise for. Tilting his head to the side, he inspected Sylvia with all the curiosity of a child. “How would you know if I did stare, exactly?”, he challenged.

“I can tell”, Sylvia deflected.

She did not know how exactly, but it was obvious. She could not see his eyes under the mask, but she could tell that his focus was on her. He might as well have been hiding behind a wall. She would still have felt observed.

“It is rude to stare”, she added firmly.

“Sorry”, Theodorus repeated, this time with a little more sincerity. “I am not used to controlling my gaze. People usually do not notice either way.”

“So why are you staring?”, Sylvia asked again.

“Just admiring a clever and gorgeous woman”, Theodorus answered.

Sylvia huffed a laugh. “Definitively rude”, she determined.

A smirk crept onto Theodorus’s lips. He did not say anything more to it, but eventually turned his gaze away. He was still observing Sylvia, if only from the corner of his eye. If anything, he was watching her with more curiosity than before.

In the meantime, there was another, more discrete eye contact crossing the firepit. Thorun glanced over at one of the strong women sitting beside Tone. Sure enough, Una’s sharp eyes focused on her in turn. How Yri told the difference between curious glances and come-ons, Thorun would never understand, but she was sure glad to have someone who could nudge her when it was relevant. Letting her gaze rake down the archer’s body, she finally met those dark expectant eyes and curved her lips into the beginning of a smile. Making sure she had Una’s full attention, she nodded to the right before getting up and walking in that direction. Noticing Kvist at her heel, diligent as ever in her duties, Thorun waved a hand to dismiss her. To her delight, Una followed her as well, past a few fires and the inquisitive eyes of Fri and Nordborg soldiers, all the way into her tent.