Sigrid sat watching the sun rise, warming the summer air. He looked north, towards Jarlhold. It wasn’t within sight, but it was out there all the same. Once belonging to his family, Sigrid’s inheritance had been stolen by a greedy cousin decades ago. It would be his again, he had always told himself, but it was nearly impregnable. The time would have to be right, and he would need an army.

A rider appeared on the horizon. Sigrid watched the lone horsemen ride to his village’s gate. A single rider meant news, though it was hard to tell what kind it would be. “Lord,” someone shouted below, “There is news from Jarlhold.”

Clambering down the ladder, Sigrid left the wall and walked to the gate. “What news?”

The rider bowed quickly, “An earthquake, it has destroyed one of Jarlhold’s walls! Now is the time to restore you as the rightful theign!” It was better news than Sigrid could have dreamed for. It would have been perfect if he had been more prepared. Looking around, Sigrid counted his oathsworn guard. Forty men would not be enough to take Jarlhold. His cousin would have nearly four times that.

“Tell the men we ride for Hedeburg,” commanded the theign. A decade of faithful service to King Harald would no doubt buy him some support at court. If he controlled Jarlhold, it would mean that Harald would have a secure northern border to his realm. Sigrid set off with a smile.

Arriving in Hedeburg, Sigrid left his weapons and men at the door of the great hall. Striding before the throne, he dropped to one knee and bowed. King Harald motioned for him to stand. “What do I owe this visit?” asked the aging warlord.

“Lord, a calamity has struck Jarlhold,” said Sigrid. “An earthquake has collapsed one of its walls. If you grant me five hundred men, I will take it in short order. My ancestral homeland will be returned and through me, you will extend the northern reaches of your realm.” Sigrid tried not to betray his excitement with his voice.

There was silence as the king looked at him. At the end of the hall, the doors burst open. Sigrid looked over his shoulder to find the prince stomping up next to him. “Father, Torvik is under attack. The raiders fly the white dove of Oleg Srygvaarson. Send me south with five hundred men, and I will relieve the town.”

A cold sweat seeped down Sigrid’s neck. This was a golden opportunity, one that might not come again in his lifetime. “Lord, if I may have one hundred men, I can-”

“No,” replied the king. “I will not gain a border outpost in the north just to lose a river market in the south. Son, relieve Torvik. Bring me Oleg’s head.”

****

Sigrid’s horse plodded down the dirt road. The theign’s head slumped, thinking about how close he had been to fulfilling the oath he had angrily sworn so many years ago. The wall of Jarlhold would be rebuilt, maybe in a week’s time, perhaps two.

“Lord, what do we do now?” asked Sigrid’s war-chief.

“Nothing,” the theign spat sourly. He sighed. “Without an army, we can do nothing.” It was true. What would be the point in bringing his men up north? They could make it up before the wall was repaired but then what? Find a way to sneak into the fort?

Sigrid scratched his bearded chin. Sneak into the fort. If they could do that, maybe they could kill his cousin. He would have his own oathsworn protecting him but once a theign was dead, no one was eager to risk their lives for a lost cause. There was no child to inherit from his cousin’s line. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed plausible.

“Change of plans,” shouted Sigrid to his men, “We head north to Jarlhold.”

Morale soared when Jarlhold came into view. In the distance, Sigrid could see the damaged wall across the plain. It saddened him to see his childhood home in such a state but the excitement of retaking it made the moment pass.

“Welcome, Theign Sigrid!” shouted someone in the field next to them. Sigrid turned to find his cousin emerging from a hedgerow with forty men. Their round shields clattered together as they formed a shield wall. The same sound emerged behind them from the other hedgerow, another forty men. Running around both walls of shields were yet more men, completing the encirclement. “I warned you that if you came back, your head would adorn my gate.”

The shield walls advanced step by step, beginning to constrict around Sigrid’s men. “What’s the use of living a long life anyway?” asked the theign as he spurred his horse at his cousin. “Take my head if you can!”