[h1]Luukava[/h1]

"What news from the east?" Nigul inquired of his advisors, "What's going on over there?"

He was a big man, Nigul, but not in the tall sense. He was often referred to as "the boulder" because of his build. It was a fitting description to his mind. He liked to think of himself as a rock not only in appearance, but in temper; hard to move, but harder still to stop once he got rolling. His advisors neither looked nor behaved anything like him. Some of them were big, but not from muscle. Where he was hard they were soft. Where he stood firm, they were always shifting. He despised them like the night hates the sun, but he recognized that they had their uses. For one, many of them were rich, and riches were always handy in a tight spot.

It was Tõnis that first braved an answer. "Honestly, Jarl, we don't know for sure." he said while spreading his fat hands apologetically, "It seems some hamlet or other was attacked or raided, but details are scarce." 

"Probably the seal-folk." Mihkel mused in his raspy whisper of a voice, "They do love themselves a little raid or two in springtime." Some heads bobbed in agreement. Tõnis, however, didn't seem convinced.

"What do you think, old boar?" Nigul ventured.

"I don't know." he said, scratching the stubble on his chin, "But I do know that this is early for Seals to go hunting. A bit too early, actually."

"Who, then?" Mihkel rasped accusingly, apparently not keen on being second-guessed. "Can't be the Pale fuckers, Kinnisvara just bested them. Can't be Osai this far south. Can sure as sure not be northeners, they have their rivers to fight over." More heads bobbing now. "So who?"

Tõnis shot Nigul a glance. "Might be islanders." He suggested, shrugging.

“Preposterous!” Mihkel exclaimed, waving a hand at his fellow advisor as though his words were an unpleasant odor, “It’s been over twelve winters since we last heard of a Red Tide. They have left their old ways behind, that’s what their traders have been telling me all this time. Their last defeat taught them a lesson.”

“Still.” Nigul intervened, “It is possible.”

Mihkel eyed him angrily but nodded grudgingly in the end. “Aye, I suppose.”

The discussion was interrupted by a knock on the door. A guard entered, and Nigul saw a rather ragged man outside. 

“Jarl Nigul,” the guard began, “Forgive my intrusion, but I believe I have news of importance to current affairs. We have a visitor from the bay. He claims to have been sent by the Seal King.”

A few eyebrows went up at that, and looks were traded throughout the room.

“He also brings a letter” the guard continued, “Supposedly from his liege.”

Nigul beckoned at the guard to hand him the letter, and read it quietly before relaying its contents to the rest of the room.

Mihkel was the first to speak. “Might be a trick.”

“Aye,” Tõnis replied, “But it might also be the truth.”

To quell further argument, Nigul held up his hand to call for silence. “In either case” he said, “We would do well to prepare. I will agree to the terms laid out in this letter and send the man on his way with his horses. Guard, you will find some in the stable. Kinnisvara will have to fend for themselves for the time being. In the meantime, we will post more sentries and evacuate the villages closest to the sea. If the letter is true and the islanders approach us, we will fall back and dig in further inland. Then we will see.”

Mihkel and Tõnis looked at each other for some time, and finally nodded in unison. “Aye, my Jarl.” Mihkel said, “So be it.”