Soulseeker

Egil 3.2

First draft

Egil, Thorvald and a handful of warriors walked up the hill, crossing the last gate separating them from the castle. Thunderfield, the place where he'd spent most of his youth, looked different, though he didn't know why exactly. The fact that they were building a church so close to the castle was disturbing, of course, but that was just the surface. The change went deeper than that. The atmosphere was so different that Egil almost felt like a dignitary sent to a foreign country, an intruder in his own land.

Many people were looking at him, but that wasn't the problem. He was the Warlord, the most famous warrior of his generation - he was used to it. However, the way those people - his people - looked at him had changed. They weren't staring at him with respect or awe like they used to but hostility, maybe even fear. Egil met the dark looks with an arrogantly raised eyebrow. However, he soon realized that not of all of them were hostile. A few of them were looking at him expectantly like he was their last hope. That was even worse for some reason.

Heidi, a chubby maid in her twenties, greeted them when they crossed the threshold. Although she was a bit short for the Wildlands' standard, and Egil was at least a foot taller than her, she spoke in a tone devoid of fear or awe.

"My lord." She curtsied, her bright and round eyes shining. "Welcome back."

"Heidi." Egil grunted, "I'm here to see my uncle."

"Of course." The maid answered like she'd expected his arrival. "Please follow me. The lord is waiting for you."

Heidi turned around and walked briskly, guiding them through the castle's dark corridors - a stark labyrinth of passages and cold rooms. Harsh and severe like the Wildlands, the old fortress was quiet, dimly lit with a few half-burned candles and unembellished - except for the stuffed animal heads hanging on the walls. 

"This place really lacks a woman's touch." Egil mumbled.

Thorvald grunted in agreement. "Without a woman, the servants tend to be lazy."

Egil shook his head. "Alva's mother died more than ten years ago. Why didn't my uncle ever remarry?"

Thorvald shrugged. "The Highlord never had luck with women."

"I suppose you're talking about uncle's first wife."

Thorvald sighed. "Aye. Your uncle never loved Gunilla, Thandruil's mother. They were like strangers."

"Many arranged marriages are like that." Egil objected. "My uncle respected his first wife."

"He respected her." Thorvald admitted. "But then Alfric met Tristana, Alva's mother."

"And divorced Gunilla."

Thorvald snorted. "He didn't just divorce her, he threatened to repudiate her."

Egil looked shocked. "How come I didn't know about this?"

Thorvald waved his hand dismissively. "Gunilla was a Lindberg. Her family managed to hide the truth. They didn't want anyone to know about their shame."

Egil nodded slowly. "And a consensual divorce is better than repudiation."

Thorvald snorted again. "Tell that to Thandruil."

While they were talking, Egil had increased his pace unconsciously.

Only when Heidi said, "My lord." he realized he'd left the woman behind.

Egil waited for her to catch up then asked, "By the way, where is old Vakri, the steward?"

"Vakri?" Heidi panted, her plump cheeks a bit rosy as she struggled to keep up with him. "My lord...Vakri is dead."

Egil unconsciously slowed down, a frown appearing on his face. "Dead? How did he die?"

"He fell from the north keep." The maid shook her head. "It was awful. Everyone in the castle was shocked."

The frown on his face deepened. "When did this happen?"