The crew of the galley gave the longship hard, angry glares as they sailed past one another.

Seothrunn could hardly care about what the king's men on board the galley felt, he was just happy to have managed to sail into Highmont's harbour without having to kill anyone. His ship of forty oars was barely a threat to all but the smallest hamlets, but the city had sounded the alarm almost as soon as the tip of the longship's mast crested the horizon. Seothrunn had expected as much - the north-western coast was being raided by his own sister even as he intended to meet with the king - but he had hoped against hope that news of the raids had yet to filter down to Highmont. Were it not for the long, streaming white banner that flew from the top of his ship's mast, Seothrunn was quite sure that the king's fleet would have sunk him without a second thought.

"I do not like this, Fjallthrim." The old man standing next to Seothrunn said in a low voice as they passed the rear of the galley and approached the opening between the two large breakwaters that encircled the harbour. 

"Nor I you, Maeryck." Seothrunn replied in a whisper.

Maeryck coughed into his fist and kept his eyes on the turrets that lined the tops of the breakwaters. Tall, barrel-chested and with a long, wispy beard that tickled his chest, Maeryck had been the captain of the first ship Seothrunn had set foot onto, and now that he was too old to captain his own vessel, served under the latter as the second-in-command. "They may very well trap us within the harbour and sink us there." He said even as the longship passed the two imposing towers that guarded the entrance to the harbour. 

"We have the captain's word," Seothrunn said, more to reassure himself than anything else. The captain of the galley that had sallied forth to question the Bonemen's intentions had given Seothrunn his word that no harm would befall him, his crew or his ship as long as the white banner flew from the mast. Words made for weak shields, as the Bonemen often said, but in this instance, Seothrunn had little choice but to place his faith in the captain's sense of honour.

"The captain, not the king." Maeryck pointed out. 
      
Seothrunn clenched his jaw and kept his eyes looking forward, towards the harbour. It was easily the largest he had ever seen, with close to two dozen ships moored at the various docks, piers and jetties. The ships ranged from small, single-masted fishing skiffs to massive war galleys of close to two hundred oars and boasting large, square sails hanging from three masts. A few galleys rowed past the longship, but otherwise they did nothing. "If he wanted us sunk, he would have done so by now." Seothrunn said.

Maeryck grimaced, but then nodded in agreement. "So what do you intend to find out with this meeting?"

"Answers," Seothrunn replied with a shrug. Just over a month ago, he had experienced a nightmare unlike any other. They usually involved drowning and the smashing of ships, but this particular nightmare showed him settlements in flames, fields covered in a carpet of corpses and once snow-capped peaks dyed red with blood. When he awoke, he had heard a loud, roaring sound. No one else had heard it, and for a while Seothrunn had tried to put the whole event out of his mind, but as more and more north-bound ships disappeared, he could not help but feel as if his vision had something to do with it. Thus, he had sailed southwards, asking questions wherever he stopped until he heard rumours of the king calling for a meeting of all those who had seen the visions and heard the roar. 

"And if you do not get any?" Maeryck asked.

"Then I hope to find adventure."

Maeryck nodded, satisfied with the answer. "Kings and adventures always go hand-in-hand. You will find at least one of what you seek."

Did he really, however? Seothrunn was a capable warrior - the bone sword he wielded was testament to that, as well as the numerous scratches on his shield. However, he had no experience of the southern lands, and he could barely speak their tongue. His own father would call him a fool for venturing into strange lands while being so ill-prepared, and Seothrunn would be inclined to agree. However, what else could he do? A leader would risk everything for the safety of his people, and Seothrunn knew that he would not find rest until he found out what had happened to the vanished ships. 

"I do hope so," Seothrunn said as the longship approached an empty pier. "Maeryck, you have my ship until I return. Do with it what you will, but try not to sink her."

"She will be safe in my hands, boy, have no worries about that."

Seothrunn turned his attention back to the approaching waterfront. He never liked spending long periods of time on land, but now he had no choice. This could be his one chance to get the answers he sought, and he was not about to let something as minor as an aversion of land to get in his way. He had come to far to just turn around because of a few butterflies in his stomach. The longship came to a stop, and with just a nod to Maeryck and his crew, Seothrunn jumped over the side of the ship and onto the pier.

He knew that it was rude to just leave as he did, but he knew that Maeryck would understand. Had he delayed anymore, his nerves would have overcome his determination. It pained him to leave the ship he had called home for so long, but Seothrunn pushed all thoughts of the past into a corner of his mind and walked deeper into the city, never once looking back.

---

The walk towards Dragonstead had been less troublesome than Seothrunn had expected. It appeared as if only the upper echelons of society and the military knew about the raids along the north-western coast. The common folk were friendly enough, even though their gazes upon his face and armour lingered beyond what was comfortable. For the latter, there was not much he could do - taking it off was troublesome, and he did not relish the idea of carrying the cuirass in his hands - but at the very least Seothrunn could cover most of his face by pulling up his hood. With just a few questions, he managed to find his way to Dragonstead castle, and when he reached it, he wondered just why he even needed directions.

It was massive, or at least it was massive to him. The people around him seemed more interested in the open gates than the actual size of the building. Castles on the north-western isles were usually built low to the ground and wide. Tall buildings were easy prey for the gale-force winds that occasionally ravaged the isles. Dragonstead Castle would not last a year on the isles, that much Seothrunn was certain of. 

The queue moved at a snail's pace, but eventually he made it to the gate. An old man stood in the way, and Seothrunn was about to ask him to move when the old man suddenly jerked, as if he had just woken up from a bad dream. The two armed guards by his side reached for their swords, but thankfully the old man recovered and stopped them from escalating the situation. He gestured for Seothrunn to enter the castle and stepped aside. Still, as Seothrunn walked past, he noticed the old man looking at him with a look that was a combination of fear and hatred.

With a shrug, Seothrunn dismissed that as just an oddity and continued on his way. Servants guided him to the main dining hall, where he found several people already seated at the long table. Some of them were eating, others chatting but most sat in silence. Deciding to join the last group, Seothrunn quietly walked over to an empty seat away from the others and sat down. If the others wished to talk to him, they were free to do so, but until then, he was content with just sitting and listening.