Mist rose high on the mountains, the warm sun drawing it up from the valleys below as it dried out the land at the start of the day. The day dawned brightly, belying the sense of gloom that was growing on the lands below. The HighJarl had returned from his trials, filled with hope for the future and looking forward to the birth of his child.
On arrival, though, his heart was all but stilled as he received the news that his mate was gone. and her young son and their unborn child with her. When he demanded to know the facts of what happened, he was told that no one was entirely sure, but that they believed she’d been taken by the sleen that had recently carried off one of the bonds.
The truth was, she’d been told he was on his way back so had waited patiently for days in the ruins, hoping to catch a glimpse of him when he returned so she could meet him with Thorbjørn. On one particular day, she’d wandered further than she normally would have and was met by a stranger, a rarius, who said he’d been sent to check on her by an old friend. Unhappy at finding her alone, and of hearing of the seeming disappearance of her mate, he immediately took her and carried her off to her former guardian, and took her young son from her to be with his blood father. Soon after, she was sent for and taken from her guardian’s home to the city of Hochburg.
Devastated by the reports of those around him, but unwilling to take what was being said at face value, Gab searched the lands about the holding for some time for any signs that might give him a clue to Fri’s whereabouts. His grief was great, and as days passed and turned into hands, and the hands to passages of moons, the turmoil within him grew. He, as Fri had, began to haunt the ruins while he waited. Eventually, he gave in to the seeming reality of the reports.
Once more, he thought, he’d lost those he loved, had failed them in some way. To atone, he did as the other scars on his body attested. Deep scars below his eyes, one for his mate, one for his lost unborn child, were added to the other network of lines and symbols on his torso. He retreated to the hall, ordering the gates shut and closing off the Valr from all around for the next twenty years.
In that time, many things changed. Tófí Éyvínðr, a friend from Gab’s childhood, came to seek him out, having heard stories of the fabled hall and of his friend’s possible connection with it. What he found when he arrived, and was eventually let in after convincing the guards of the truth of his claims, disturbed him greatly. To find his friend half mad with grief was bad enough but, as he walked about the holding and talked to the people there, he found that the man Gab should have been able to trust, his axe, Spec, was plotting against his life.
Tófí took things in hand in the only way he knew how. He took over as HighJarl, giving Gab time to rest and recover. He took Spec to one side and left him in no doubt about what he thought of him, and what would happen if he didn’t change. Spec, as only he could, over-indulged in mead and, after another drunken ramble to ask the gods for guidance, he disappeared . . . or, at least, that’s how the story goes.
To some extent, Gab has recovered, although changed greatly. For a time, he held the position of Shield for Tófí, giving him the loyalty his friendship deserved. Eventually, he resumed his proper role as Jarl, claimed Bára as his mate and opened the gates of the Valr. Life settled and time passed until one day, a visitor arrived . . .
Beyond the mist of the Valr 