First draft

When Egil woke up, the sun was beating down on him like a hammer. He groaned, rubbing his eyes only to realize that he was still inside the clearing. Except for Uzur, who was snoring with his head in the plate, the Hall of Pines was empty. Egil stood up, staggered, and almost fell. His head was still ringing like a bell when he sat back on the bench.

"Lord Lindberg sends his apologies. " A guardsman said, "We know the accommodations are far from ideal, but we weren't able to carry you or..."He sneaked a glance at Fat Ozur who was still snoring blissfully, "...Lord Kaalhund."

The guardsman kept biting his lower lip. He looked distressed for some reason.

Egil waved his hand without looking at him, "Don't worry. I understand. Besides..."He glanced at Ozur, who was scratching his huge belly, "I don't think he minds."

He cracked a grin, but the guardsmen just bowed, maintaining a respectful distance from him. The way they looked at him made him anxious. It seemed almost like...reverence. Egil was still trying to recover from the hangover when Jokul arrived.

 "How are you?" The Glorysing asked, but he was clearly amused, fighting back a smile.

"I'm fine" Egil grumbled, but his face was ashen, "The men?"

"They are doing better than you." Jokul's smile faded a bit, "But the elf..."

Egil frowned, lifting his head to look at him, "What about him?"

Jokul shook his head, "You'd better see it for yourself."

Egil gave him a questioning look, but no matter how many times he asked, Jokul refused to answer. Egil clicked his tongue. The Glorysing was so quick, he had no choice but to chase after him. He followed him through those dark tunnels until they reached the guards quarters. Then he slowed down. He could hear the sound of laughter coming from a room nearby.

Egil glanced at Jokul, "What's going on?"

However, the Glorysing didn't have time to answer.

"Well done, little lord," Someone clapped his hands, "Another perfect throw."

"Too perfect." A second man said. His voice sounded familiar, "Argail, you're supposed to make a mistake. We are still waiting for our turn."

"Lord Dahl, you just want to see the elf bleed. Admit it!" Someone shouted, and the men burst out lighting.

Egil couldn't take it anymore. He pushed the door open, but what was awaiting him on the other side was something he would have never expected. Rolim was tied to a post, gagged and immobilized. Argail the young of house Lindberg, Arnulf's youngest son, and a few others lords, including Elof, lord of house Dahl, were wielding throwing knives. Rolim looked unharmed but at least two dozens nobles were watching the show, sipping mead and laying bets on the participants. Lucas Hartway, a grizzled gentleman in his early forties, Arnulf Lindberg, the host of this Gathering and Ketil Udison, the man who was supposed to take care of Rolim, were among them.

The shield-brother was smiling, clearly amused. He was sipping mead like the other guests when he saw Egil. Ketil's blue eyes widened, his smile slipping as he started choking on his drink, his coughing fit drawing the attention of everyone within earshot. Gradually the room fell silent, the lords turning to look at Egil. Most of them looked uncomfortable like they had been caught doing something they weren't supposed to. Argail Lindberg, a young man who had seen less than fifteen winters, wasn't one of them.

He innocently smiled at Egil, his eyes filled with excitement as he welcomed him, "Lord Strom! We were just talking about you."

"You were?" Egil asked, but he was staring at Ketil.

The shield-brother lowered his head, unable to return his gaze. He wasn't the only one. Many lords shuffled their feet nervously.

Argail, however, couldn't read the mood, "Of course! We wanted to thank you. This is a great specimen" He roughly gripped Rolim's chin, his childish face distorted by a touch of cruelty, "He is very entertaining."

"Please, excuse my son, Lord Strom." Lord Lindberg pretended to glare at Argail, but his gaze was filled with affection, "Maybe I've spoiled him too much."

"There is no need for apologies, Lord Lindberg." Egil forced a smile, his tone stiff, "Argail is young. Probably he was curious. He has never seen an elf before, so..."

A flush crept up Argail's face, "Warlord, what do you take me for?!" He shouted, his voice turning shrill, "I've seen many elv..."

"Argail!" Lord Lindberg hissed, "Stop speaking nonsense."

Argail immediately shut his mouth, lowering his head as he tried to avoid his father's gaze.

Egil narrowed his eyes, "Lord Lindberg...?"

Arnulf sighed, "It can't be helped, lord Strom. As you said, Argail is young. That's why I've indulged him in the past." He looked dejected, his shoulder sagging, "He wanted to know about the elves, so I bought one for him. It's wrong, I know, but the creature didn't last long, so..."

Egil and Jokul exchanged a glance.

Didn't last long? More like young Argail killed him.

"Don't worry, lord Lindberg." Lord Dahl consoled him, "He is your son after all. Besides...it's just an elf."

Some lords nodded, agreeing with him, but others were still looking at Egil as if they were waiting for him to speak.

Elof Dahl turned to look at Egil, "Don't you agree, lord Strom?"

Egil's temples were throbbing with rage, but he still managed to answer, "Of course. It's just a small matter."

Arnulf bowed to him, "Thank you for your understanding."

Then he smiled, his dark mood vanishing like magic.

"Now, why don't we move on to something else? According to my steward, our mead is delicious this year."

The lords laughed before following him outside. Soon, only the shield-brothers and Rolim were left.

Egil was breathing hard, trying to keep his anger at bay, when Jokul asked, "Why so serious, warlord?" His words full of mockery, "You achieved your goal."

How do you know?

Egil turned to look at him, but by then, Jokul was already gone. He gritted her teeth, his gaze falling on the last person left in the room. Ketil involuntarily took a step back. He was a big man, though not as tall as Egil, but now he was deathly pale, cowering in fear.

"M-My lord, I..."He stammered, probably trying to explain himself, but Egil didn't give him a chance.

He punched him right in the nose, his fist crushing bone and cartilage like a big hammer.

"Take him down" He ordered, pointing at Rolim, " And Ketil...don't disappoint me again."