The Warlord's Last Oath

The battlefield was silent now, save for the crackling of burning corpses and the distant howl of the wind. Hakon and his warriors stood amidst the dead, their breaths visible in the cold morning air. Blood soaked the earth beneath them, steaming where it met frost.

Torstein wiped his blade on a fallen soldier's cloak and spat. "They came to hunt us. Now they're just more bones in the dirt."

Rorik chuckled darkly. "Ulrich's men don't learn, do they?"

Hakon, however, remained quiet. His eyes scanned the bodies, his mind already working ahead. This was only the beginning. Ulrich would not rest after losing men like this. He would send more. He would hunt them harder.

"We move before nightfall," Hakon finally said. "Ulrich will notice his men haven't returned. We don't wait for him to come looking."

Vigdis approached, a grim expression on her face. "We found a scout alive. He was crawling away when we caught him."

Hakon followed her to where the man knelt, hands tied, a gash across his forehead. His breath came in ragged gasps, his eyes darting wildly between the warriors who surrounded him.

Hakon crouched before him. "Who sent you?"

The scout swallowed hard. "Ulrich," he rasped. "He ordered us to patrol the valley, to watch for you."

Hakon's expression remained unreadable. "And?"

The man hesitated. Then, reluctantly: "Ulrich is mustering his forces. He's preparing for war."

Torstein scoffed. "War? Against who?"

The scout licked his lips. "Not just you. The other kings, too. He doesn't trust them anymore. He believes they're waiting for him to fall."

A long silence followed. Hakon's gaze darkened. If Ulrich was turning against the other traitor-kings, then the delicate balance of power was shifting. That could be an opportunity—or a greater danger.

"What do we do with him?" Rorik asked, nodding toward the scout.

Hakon stood, his decision already made. "No survivors," he said coldly.

The man barely had time to plead before Rorik's dagger slid across his throat. He collapsed into the dirt, twitching as his blood pooled around him.

Hakon turned away, already considering their next move. "We head north. If Ulrich is preparing for war, we'll strike before he's ready."

Vigdis frowned. "North? That's deep into his territory."

Hakon gave a grim smile. "That's exactly why he won't expect us."