|
|
 - WORLD
|
|
|
- ISLES
|
|
|
- RACES
·
·
·
·
·
·
·
·
·
·
·
·
·
·
·
·
·
·
·
·
|
|
|
|
- TIMELINE
|
|
|
- LOCATIONS
|
|
|
- FACTIONS
|
|
|
- MALES
|
|
|
- FEMALES
|
|
|
- ITEMS
|
|
|
- TALES
|
|
|
- ABOUT
|
|
|
|
1540: Meeting at the windmill
|
Wandering in the village of the once famous Berserk Headtakers the two old men steered towards the windmill. After all these years in the shadows of intrigues and power they now enjoyed each other's company again. Their trot in the light snow where accompanied by the slow thud and woofing from the mills wings and stones.
Entering the mill they both smiled silently and remembered those days so many years ago where events where building up and Atti broke the finger of Fleinn and still lost the contest that had ever since been unequalled. Just to run off to this windmill because of a claimed grain theft. As if not the High King and all the others there knew what was the real issue in this theft matter. Luckily for the Headtakers the High King needed their aid more than he needed an althinga court issue with them. So he ignored the spice issue and tended his own matters back then.
"I do know sire that I back then supported a faction that where indeed dealing in the matters of forbidden spices and herbs, but." Interrupting his friend Sölvarr replied. "Could you please spare me for that 'Sire' thing Atti. After all we are both royal born and that title was only mine for a while. I would prefer it if it could be as when we were young and friends."
Atti broke him off, "As I were about to say. I supported Headtakers and others in the spice issue because I really believed that we needed those in our coming fight against the hordes. Odin knows it was not because of the money, of those I equal both him and you." They both laughed as they climbed the stairs to get up and enjoy the moonlight.
"So as I said I am aware that you could have exiled me back then Sire. But yet I think that my loyalty ever since, and support in your schemes allow me this one pledge. I want you to aid me with all your power so that my daughter can go free of this love crusade her mind has been set upon."
"Atti my dear friend, I cannot go against the High Kings wishes. He and your daughter are in love and I think it is wisest that you accept it. Besides think of all the wealth it will bring you not to mention a guaranteed security that you will forever go free of whatever schemes the new court are planning. My power faded both with age and the election of another High King. I cannot give you favors like the once given trade concessions or pressure on rivals. You should enjoy the fact that we grew old and now can enjoy memories as well as the law system and security we helped build.
"I am not interested in memories of old days or in being turned down by friends or allies. I am Atti of the Berserk Headtakers. Most wealthy of the Triad Traders and Overlord of the Spice Guilds, and I am not at all interested in seeing my royal daughter being married off to some bold fisherman son. Dragon slayer or not, I will not endure it and if no one will help me I will end this madness myself. My daughter will marry a true nobleman to secure the bloodline. I do not care about wealth at all because we are rich enough." Sölvarr merely stared slack mouthed at his old friend.
The slim man rose and started to speak angrily. "You never let loose of the real power Old Tree. You know that as well as I do and I tell you if you don't stop this madness I will stop it myself and kill the pretender. He is not noble born and has not the blood of kings. Heroic deeds or not I will not allow it". As he spoke Atti infuriated himself more and more and at a point he drew one of his feared throwing knifes and shot it at the wall. With a sharp thud it sunk in till the guard.
"I see your upset and that you still have the skills once feared by many men, but…", "You rest assured I have my skills yet and if you don't help me stop it I will damn sure plant this one in his throat". Drawing forth a new throwing knife in a fast jerk the red haired man stepped back and slipped in the loose grains on the floor. Suddenly tumbling back he irked forward to prevent a fall onto the crushing stones below. With the risk of his friend falling down into the mill stones below, the former High King jumped forth and grabbed his friends arm. As Atti caught his sleeve and pulled hard, Svartholtr started to say, "don't trip down, and down talk treason either my old f..." An odd feeling made his stop midsentence; a feeling from times long gone surged through his body.
Staring into his friends eyes he said, "I never thought it end this way. Promise me you won't act rash my friend, it seems it's too late for me to do anything now. They both looked down to see what they both knew had happened. Looking up, Svartholtr noticed tears in the eyes of his friend and smiled. As his hands closed gently around his friends in a firm farewell a thin strip of blood erupted from the mouth and floated down the cheek. With smile in the eyes he whispered and slipped forwards. Breaking the thin fence he plunged past his friend who was frozen in sheer horror, down towards the millstones and in a cloud of flour dust the big thud reached the horrified man on the ledge. White faced and with tears streaming down his cheeks he turned in horror. As he hurried down the stairs he was thinking that now his daughter's marriage mattered not at all, no one would ever believe that it was an accident he thought. He had in one swift move destroyed everything he ever worked for...
Making sure he was unseen Atti disappeared into the nearby alley and headed for the harbor, to flee his land, his family, his wealth and his very honor.
|
|
|
