Harik stared at the muddy ground as his feet carried him forward. His hands were bound tightly and tied to the next prisoner behind him. Every warrior from Eraldsfen that had survived the raids was there. 'Why can't they just accept that the gods have returned! It's foolish to oppose them!' Harik's body trembled in rage as the freezing rain lashed at his skin.
There was no way to escape as they trundled through Korden's gate to the sound of the citizens cheering. The Jarl's warriors around him cheered in response as they waved. Harik's eyes drifted up to glance at the faces by the side of the road. But his expression froze. His eyes had landed on a man in a thick cloak walking towards them, holding out a drinking horn full of mead towards the warrior closest to him.
'Bjorn! What are you doing?' Harik glanced around as the warrior reached out to take the horn from Bjorn. However, before his hand could take hold of it, Bjorn dropped it and grabbed his wrist instead! in one swift movement, he jerked him forward as he drove a concealed dagger into the warrior's armpit, severing a major artery in the process.
"Now!" Bjorn roared as the cheering crowd suddenly revealed weapons and rushed the Jarl's men from all sides.
Archers appeared on the rooftops and aimed for those closest to the prisoners first. Dividing the battlefield in the process. With Harik and the other prisoners being in the centre of the group, this forced the Jarl's men to be forced into two halves as soon as they were surrounded. Leaving each group unable to support the other.
"Hold them off until the prisoners are free! Quick, bring the weapons!" Bjorn barked as he sliced at the ropes binding Harik.
"Bjorn! It's good to see you! But what's going on here?" Harik asked with a stern expression as someone passed him a sword and shield.
"This is Lord Exile's will. I'll explain when this is over, but if I were you I'd watch out for his oracle." Bjorn chuckled as the sounds of battle rang out around them.
"Lady Ania!" A voice called out nearby, causing both men to glance in that direction.
Ania had pounced into the heart of the battle and thrust her spear through the heart of a warrior about to strike a deadly blow on one of Exile's followers. She roared at those around her to push on as she pulled her weapon back and blocked an axe with her shield. Her eyes were focused on the Jarl near the centre of the front group.
"Bjorn! What the hell is my daughter doing on the battlefield!" Harik growled as he grabbed the smaller man by the front of his leather coat and lifted him into the air.
"Meet Exile's oracle." Bjorn sighed as he patted Harik's wrist.
Harik could not help but let out a low groan when he heard that. He was a follower of Exile and should feel honoured that his daughter was chosen as his oracle. However, he could not help but fear for her safety and the responsibility that she would have to carry on her shoulders. 'I'll have to give her some training to better protect herself. She's full of openings.'
As he was thinking that, he watched in horror as an axe descended towards her exposed flank. 'No!' But that was when he received a shock. Ania moved faster than he thought possible as she slipped away from the deadly blow. 'How?'
"Harik... She has been blessed by Lord Exile. You can't judge her by our standards. Still, she would benefit from some proper training." Bjorn shook his head before grabbing a warrior by his collar and dragging him to the ground.
The streets of Korden ran with rivers of blood that day as the vicious battle continued. Ania haunted the group containing the Jarl as she danced in and out of reach while dispatching warriors with every blow. Bjorn led the other side in defeating the leaderless second group, while Harik forced his way through the crowd in an attempt to reach the Jarl before anyone else.
Soon, the Jarl's men began to surrender. Naturally, under Bjorn's orders, these warriors were taken away to be sacrificed later. 'We've lost quite a few, but it's almost over now.' Bjorn sighed as he glanced towards the main fight. Ania was close to breaking through to the Jarl. However, before she could, Harik's voice rang out.
"Jarl Balgrund! I, Harik Eraldsen, challenge you for the right to rule Korden as Jarl!"
It took a few moments for the battlefield to turn silent as all eyes turned to the Jarl. Harik was no longer a prisoner. He was a free man that had the right to make the challenge even if he was a criminal. If the Jarl refused, then he would be branded a coward and nobody would follow him.
"I accept!" Jarl Balgrund pushed his way forward as his men started to create a circle for the two to fight.
Jarl Balgrund and Harik were close in age. Both were at the peak of their physical prowess. However, Jarl Balgrund stood a head taller than Harik, who was already a large man by Skardian standards. Harik moved into the circle as the men and women from Eraldsfen cheered. Bjorn wore a grim look on his face as the two circled each other. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Ania tightly gripping her spear, her face covered in blood.
'She's going to dive in if things look bad!' Bjorn panicked as he tried to force his way towards her as the two men clashed to the shouting of the crowd. Each blow seemed perfectly timed to the sound of thunder and flashes of lightning in the middle of the storm. Bjorn's eyes went wide as he spotted Ania preparing to make her move!
Crack! The whole crowd became silent as Bjorn's eyes turned to see Harik laying on the muddy ground. Jarl Balgrund was on his knees, his head smoking and his skin charred black. While Bjorn had been focusing on Ania, a lightning bolt had suddenly struck the Jarl dead as he was about to win.
'Made it... Just in time...' Exile sighed from far off to the side of the battle as he cast a weary eye over the scene...