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Falco's Reign - Part 82

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In a mansion quite close to Grimkeep, that had once belonged to one of Falco’s relatives and now belonged to him, the royal ambassadors were enjoying the jarl’s hospitality, although not really voluntarily. One of them, a middle aged ambitious baron was tapping his fingers impatiently on the table, covered with dishes, mead and beer. The other one, a neighbor of his from the border region with Vestfjor, was less agitated and was eating a roast chicken with much delight.
“Why so irritable, my dear baron?” he asked. “Can’t you just enjoy all this excellent food and drink?”
“We have duties to perform, Sir Corin,” the baron snapped. “We are being held here against our will! Ambassadors of the royal court! It’s a damn insult!”
“I’m sure jarl Adler has his reasons. Besides, lord Ronvald explained that lord Falco would soon visit us.”
“I don’t need his visit! I need him to let me continue my journey towards the jarl of Caledonia! You are the one who has to deal with Adler. He’s doing this on purpose, I’m telling you.”
“Could be,” Sir Corin admitted.
Suddenly, the door opened. Baron Hakon turned to snap at the servant for the thousandth time about his permission to continue his voyage, but stood eye to eye with Falco instead. For a moment, he was lost for words.
“My lords,” Falco said. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Mind if I join you for the meal? I’ve been flying for a couple of hours and I can’t stay for very long, so …”
“I … ehm … Greetings, lord Falco,” the baron said, quickly regaining his composure. “Of course we do not mind you joining us. But … you cannot stay for long, you say? That’s no problem for me, as all I need is your permission to continue my journey, but my colleague has many things to discuss with you.”
“Does he?” Falco asked, while filling a plate with chicken, vegetables and some baked potatoes. “Well, we better get started then. Easiest things first. Baron Hakon, I can’t let you move on.”
“What? My lord, this is unheard of! I am an ambassador on a diplomatic mission for the Royal Court to jarl Argyle of Caledonia. You have no right to stop me, with all due respect of course,” he quickly added.
Falco stuffed some food in his mouth and took a big gulp from his cup of mead.
“Actually, I can. I already did. If you wanted to visit Caledonia, you should have sailed to Caledonia, not travel over my land. Besides, it’s for your own safety. Despite recent developments, this is still very much a warzone. Deserters, looters, bandits, they’re all still around. Until we have pacified the region, I can’t take responsibility for the safety of such esteemed visitors as royal ambassadors. Besides, you can’t see Argyle in any case.”
“What? Why not?” the baron asked. “You cannot forbid royal ambassadors to speak with another jarl.”
“It’s not a matter of me forbidding it. It’s a matter of practicality. Argyle is dead, therefore you cannot speak with him.”
“He’s dead?” the baron gasped in surprise.
“He fell during the hostilities. May Odin have his soul. Anyway, my decision is final. If you wish, I can give you an escort back to Valkar or to Griffnar if you prefer. You can take a ship from there to Caledonia. But you’re not continuing your journey over land unescorted through this dangerous region.”
“But …”
“That’s final!” Falco snapped, shutting the baron up. “Now then, one matter resolved. On to the other. Sir Corin, you wanted to speak with me. What good news from the Royal Court?”
“Oh, ehm, everything is fine, my lord. The Prince-Regent has ordered me to mediate in your war with Erin, so an equitable peace can be arranged for.”
“Oh? It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think so, my lord. The government of Erin has requested the Royal Court to intervene on their behalf and contact you to end the war. And I can tell you, they are willing to offer you very reasonable conditions.”
“Sir Corin …”
“These conditions include a very nice strip of land, several estates that will be given to you personally, a reasonable one time tribute and the return of any prisoners that were made during the war. And,” he said with a lewd smile, “Erin has no need for the return of the former jarl Maud. You can keep her and … do with her … as you please,” he winked. “I can also say that the Royal Court and the Prince Regent himself would hold you in very high regard, if you would accept this arrangement and bring the war to an end.”
“Sir Corin, as I said, you are too late. First, I already concluded a peace treaty that ended the war. I don’t know who exactly you are mediating for, but it’s certainly not the rightful government of Erin. That is still Maud Faol, a woman whom I hold in high respect and is not used be me in any way.”
“But lord Falco, she was deposed …”
“There has been an unlawful rebellion in Erin. Maud is already on her way to crush it, with her own troops. And mine will be there to assist her. That’s how things are done between allies.”
“Allies?! But …”
“Yes, allies. It’s amazing how fast things can change. By the way, I find it quite incredible that the Prince Regent and the Royal Court, against all traditions and rules, is interfering in the internal succession of a realm. You are siding with rebels, while the lawful jarl is still alive and well and in possession of an army? This could become a very grave incident, Sir Corin. The Prince Regent better pray the other jarls will not hear of this, or the consequences could be very serious indeed.”
“We never meant to offend. Only help.”
“Then I will consider it as such, and inform you no help is needed. The war as far as I am concerned, is over. The rebels in Erin will be dealt with. How, that will mostly depend on them, I think. You as well can go home or continue to Griffnar, with an escort for your safety. Very nice meal, gentlemen, but I have to go now. I have an urgent appointment in Grimkeep. Oh, and make sure you convey my best regards to Prince-Regent Philgar. Tell him I will not forget his part in this war. His attempt to make peace, I mean,” Falco added with a cat like smile.”
He greeted them courteously and left as fast as he had arrived, leaving two stunned ambassadors behind.


From the walls of Grimkeep, the defenders witnessed the sudden departure of the besieging force. When the Caledonian main army, led by Duke Duncan, had arrived, they had feared at first that Argyle or his successor (because here too were rumors that Argyle was dead), was planning another major assault on the city. But then, banners of truce had been raised and to their astonishment and joy, the Caledonian army had broken camp and had left in long columns towards the north and the Pict Mountains.
Count Kris Skallagrim himself was standing on the highest tower, while thousands of commoners climbed the walls to join the soldiers and watch their enemy disappear. Their joy became even greater, when a few hours later, the horns of the watch called them to the walls once more and they saw the banners of Vestfjor and Griffnar and the jarl coming over the hills carried by thousands of warriors. Falco rode ahead of them, together with his officers and knights and was the first to ride through the open gates onto the great square behind, where Kris was waiting for him.
Falco quickly dismounted and, to Kris’ surprise and before he could anything to stop him, made an elegant and respectful bow before the count.
“Hail, lord Skallagrim, valiant defender of Grimkeep! Without your incredible defense of the city, this great victory would not have been possible! You held the line, count Skallagrim! You and your brave warriors and the people of Grimkeep themselves, held the line! Vestfjor honors and thanks you!”
An immense cheering went up after these words of high praise and the mood got even better when supplies from the army were brought in for the victory celebration. Although not all of the army joined the festivities. Falco trusted Duncan but he wasn’t taking any risks. His army would remain alert as long as Caledonian troops were on Vestfjorian ground. A bit hidden among his troops were several delegates from Caledonia that would negotiate the final draft of the peace treaty.
Falco felt obliged to take part in the celebrations, but it was only half hearted. He made a tour around the city and joined the feast in Skallagrim’s castle, but tried to put Kris as much as possible in the spotlight instead of him. When he felt he had stayed long enough, he excused himself from the party and went to the chambers that were reserved for him. They were the same chambers he had stayed in before, when he had been making a tour of Vestfjor, before the war and even before the Althing.
He sighed when he noticed Miranda quickly slipped after him. She caught up with him on the staircase that led to the corridor with his chambers.
“It was nice of you to honor Kris like that, when you entered the city. You even surprised me with that gesture.”
“Did I? Well, in any case, he deserved it. Maybe people will now remember him for his actions in this war, instead of what he went through at the hands of Caitlin.”
“Falco …”
“Yes?”
“I have been thinking.”
“Oh gods!”
“Well, now that the war is over, there is very little danger in you traveling alone. To you, Grimkeep is not that far from Griffnar, if you travel by air on Bloodwing. It’s a little detour if you’re going to Erin afterwards but not that much and you will easily catch up with us afterwards. Bloodwing is a lot faster in the air than we are on horses, even if we aren’t delayed by an army anymore.”
“You want me to go to Griffnar so I can visit Anya?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t think I can do that. There are still things to arrange with the Caledonian delegates and I doubt we can really afford much delay in dealing with Erin. It’s already October, for Asgard’s sake. It will be difficult enough to conclude this thing before winter.”
“Oh, in Odin’s name! Just go home! Please! Do it for Anya! It’s her first baby, you know! She must be scared like hell and almost none of her friends and relatives are with her.”
“Her grandfather is.”
“Falco! She needs her husband! She needs you!”
“Look, I don’t have time, okay? But … I’ll think about it. Maybe after we have settled things with the Caledonians.”
“Okay. I guess that’s better than nothing.”


The silhouette of the city, with its three main massive towers and the many smaller ones, was clearly visible, amidst the endless fields and small forests that were used to provide firewood for the inhabitants. A lot of the fields were bare now, their precious yield harvested and brought to the granaries and warehouses. But some were still untouched. The sky was grey, but at least it didn’t rain.
Falco ignored the towers but instead steered Bloodwing straight towards the northern part of the city, where the mighty fortress-palace known as the Adlerburg, stood in the middle of the small lake that was formed by the waters of the Scaldis and the Lar. There were no flags on top of the towers and it was eerily quiet, even this early in the morning.
Bloodwing landed in his aviary, a large room in the highest tower of the Adlerburg. Falco quickly dismounted and hurried down the winding staircase, towards the wing of the Adlerburg that held the rooms and apartments for the Adler family and their important guests. He encountered surprisingly few people. Not even many Varangian Guards. Although they usually took positions on the outside perimeter of this wing of the Adlerburg so maybe that wasn’t so odd.
He finally reached the entrance to his own chambers. The Varangian Guard startled when he saw him, but immediately stood to attention. Falco hesitated for a moment, but decided to ask no questions and simply enter instead. Finally, he noticed some activity. He heard voices coming from deeper inside. From their bedroom.
He walked to the door, but it swung open before he reached it and a midwife stepped outside, her hands and arms covered in blood. She started and stared at him. Falco watched her for only a second, terrified by what he saw. Then he pushed her aside and ran into the bedroom.  Calvin was standing near the bed that was covered in blood. He turned to a horrified Falco with a sorrow filled look on his face.
“Falco! It came early. I’m so sorry,” he said, “We couldn’t save them.” The priest pointed in tears to the other side of the room, where, covered in clean white sheets, a body lay on a table. Beside her, a little bundle, equally covered in sheets, had been placed.
“No!!” Falco screamed. “No!!!”

With a scream, Falco woke up and threw off his blankets. He struggled to get out of bed, tripped and fell down flat on his belly. He remained like that for a few moments, breathing heavily and trying to calm down. People were stumbling about outside his room. He quickly got up and went for his clothes at exactly the same moment Miranda charged in, only dressed in a sheet that was wrapped around her and armed with a sword. She hadn’t been on guard duty that night but she always insisted her rooms were near his, so she could immediately jump to action, when something happened. Falco noticed a Varangian Guard standing in the corridor.
“What’s going on?” Miranda exclaimed. “You screamed like you were being gutted alive! Where are the assassins? Is it the Stalkers again?”
“It’s nothing like that,” Falco said, putting his clothes on. “I’m perfectly safe.”
“A nightmare?” she asked.
“Something like that,” Falco replied. He walked to his armor and it immediately wrapped and closed itself around his body.
“What are you doing? Are you going somewhere?”
“I’m following your advice,” Falco said. “I’m going home. Sigismund already knows all he has to, to conclude the talks with Caledonia. And the war council knows about my further plans. I have kept nothing from them, so I can be missed for a while. Once I’m done at home, I’ll go straight from Griffnar to Woodburg, or I’ll try to intercept Maud and her troops on her way to Erin. So, don’t follow me to Griffnar, Miranda. Just take a few squads of experienced riders and join Halem and co at Maud’s camp. Take Pumori and the wolf boys as well. I have a feeling we may need them in Erin.”
“What did you dream about? Why are you in such a hurry all of a sudden?” Miranda asked worried.
“It was just a dream. It’s not important.”
“I doubt that. Why can’t you …?”
“Please, Miranda. Don’t delay me any longer. It’s a long way to Griffnar and I really need to go.”
“Alright then,” Miranda said, feeling more anxious and worried by the minute. “Go and be safe.”
He nodded to her, grabbed his sword and helmet and almost ran outside the room, on his way to the stable where Bloodwing was sleeping. Minutes later, Miranda stared up at the sky, watching them as they flew away to the south.

They were days, spent in agony and fear. Bloodwing flew as fast as he could until long after sunset and left again before dawn. But it would still take days before they would be back in Griffnar. Falco hardly slept, scared to death to have another nightmare. He lived on the few rations he had grabbed back in Grimkeep. Bloodwing took care of himself by hunting rabbits on the go. It wasn’t quite satisfying but it would keep him going until they reached their destination.
#It will be alright,# the griffin said several times to Falco. #You’ll see. They have the best doctors and midwives in your palace. Everything will be just fine when we land.#
“I know,” Falco replied. “It was just a dream. It means nothing.”
But he didn’t believe that himself. He had often had very vivid dreams in the past. They seldom were an indication of something good. He just knew, this one would turn out to be true. He was going to lose Anya. And it would all be his fault. He should have written her! He should have done so from the moment the truth had been revealed. But instead he had been angry and hurt. And somehow that anger had found its way to Anya and her unborn child and it had killed them. And then there was the exact moment when he had found out about the pregnancy; right after the slaughter he had orchestrated in Coronado’s stronghold. How could anything good come from such a terrible scene, born from hate and fury? It was all his fault …

On the seventeenth of October, in the first hour after dawn, they finally approached their destination. The silhouette of the city, with its three main massive towers and the many smaller ones, was clearly visible, amidst the endless fields and small forests that were used to provide firewood for the inhabitants. A lot of the fields were bare now, their precious load harvested and brought to the granaries and warehouses. But some were still untouched. The sky was grey, but at least it didn’t rain.
A feeling of déjà-vu, accompanied by growing nausea began to overwhelm Falco. He ignored the towers but steered Bloodwing straight towards the northern part of the city, where the mighty fortress-palace known as the Adlerburg, stood in the middle of the small lake that was formed by the waters of the Scaldis and the Lar. There were no flags on top of the towers and it was eerily quiet, even this early in the morning.
Bloodwing landed in his aviary, a large room in the highest tower of the Adlerburg. Falco had already jumped off Bloodwing’s back, before the griffin had finished landing and ran at breakneck speed down the winding staircase, simultaneously terrified of what he would find there, and longing to end the uncertainty that was torturing him. He encountered surprisingly few people.
Falco finally reached the entrance to his own chambers. The Varangian Guard startled when he saw him, but he didn’t even get time to snap to attention. Falco pushed him aside and charged into the room. He heard voices coming from the bedroom and ran forward. He almost went mad with fear, when he saw the door opening, just like in his nightmare.
Falco yanked the door open, frightening the midwife behind it almost to death. She uttered a little scared squeal and dropped the piece of cloth she was wiping her hands on. Falco pushed her against the door and ran into the bedroom. The bed was empty. Servant girls were pulling away the sheets but he could still see the red stains on them. From the corner of his eye, he saw Calvin Rotis walking towards him, a surprised look on his face. Falco froze, overwhelmed by a feeling of dread and sorrow.
“Falco!” Calvin said, “I’m sorry. I had no idea you were near Griffnar! What a surprise! I would have arranged for a nice breakfast for you if I had known. But I doubt you’ll mind much having to wait a bit for your food. After all, I’m pretty sure that’s not what you came here for!”
“W … what?!” he stammered.
Calvin smiled broadly, put his hand on Falco’s shoulder and nodded towards the other side of the room.
“Welcome home, Falco,” a tired but very much alive voice said.
Falco turned his head. There was no big table standing there. There never had been. How could he not have remembered that? Instead there were comfortable chairs and in one of them, Anya was sitting. She looked tired. Her hair was hanging loose. But she smiled at him. A hesitant, uncertain smile, but a smile nonetheless. She was holding a little bundle in her arms. Falco gasped with relief, stepped forward and fell on his knees beside her. Tears were rolling over his cheeks as he gently kissed her forehead and rested his head against hers.
“Hey,” Anya said softly. “What’s this all about?”
“I thought you were … that I had lost …”
“You didn’t,” she said. “The baby came a few weeks early and it was tough, but we made it through. Both of us.”
Falco quickly wiped his tears away and looked down at the bundle in her arms. Anya cautiously observed him. Miranda had written her about his finding out about her pregnancy. She had been rather vague about Falco’s reaction, but Anya could read between the lines and the change in tone of his letters, in which he never mentioned her pregnancy, had made things pretty clear. Despite his happiness about seeing her alive and well, the child could still be a different matter to him.
“My lord,” Anya said, adjusting the cloth somewhat so he could see the child’s face more clearly, “meet your son.”
Falco looked at the tiny baby. Suddenly, and to Anya’s joy, a broad, happy smile appeared on his face.
“My son,” he said. “Look at him! He’s so little! Oh! He just stuck out his tongue at me!”
“I doubt he did that on purpose or with naughty intentions,” Anya smiled.
“Oh, he did! I’m sure of it! My little guy … You’re both perfectly healthy, right? No toes missing or too many or anything?”
“No, he’s a perfect little blond boy.”
“Yeah, he’s got his momma’s hair. Let’s hope he’s got my brains,” Falco grinned.
“You’re teasing me! Watch it, farm boy!” Anya said, using the old nickname she had given him back in Jotunheim. “But … if you’re teasing me, does that mean you’re not angry anymore? Do you forgive me for not telling me?”
“I should be the one to ask you to forgive me. I have been such an ass. I’m so sorry. Please, never feel like you can’t tell me something. To think that you were afraid to tell me something, afraid of me! That was the hardest part of all. You never have to be afraid of me.”
“So we’re good? The two of us, I mean?”
“No, the three of us are good,” he said with a proud look at his son, who was yawning.
“Would you like to hold him?”
“Yes! Can I?”
Carefully, she placed the child in his arms. He stood up and turned to the people in the room.
“I have a son, Calvin,” he said. “I’m a father now. Will you teach him as well as you taught me?”
“Yes, you are a father. And I will tech him. Better even,” Calvin said. He seemed to be as proud, as if it had been his own grandson.

“Hello, little one,” Falco whispered, looking at his son. “I’m your dad. Can you believe that? I hardly can. You’ve chosen a dangerous family to be born in, you know. But I’ll do my very best to keep you safe.”
“He doesn’t seem too worried about that,” Anya smiled.
“No … and he’s sticking his tongue out at me again! Little rascal! I can see I’ll have to keep an eye on you, little … Does he have a name yet?”
“No, of course not. I wouldn’t name him without talking about that to you.”
“Maybe we can call him Moorgash!” Falco grinned. Anya pinched his arm.
“Don’t be silly!”
“Well, what do you suggest?”
“Why don’t we name him after his father?”
“And what name would that be?” Falco asked, which resulted in another pinch.
“What kind of example are you setting for your son, acting like that?” she said quasi-serious.
“Okay, okay,” Falco laughed. “So, you would want to call him Falco junior? I don’t know, Anya. I think the kid deserves his own name, not one borrowed from somebody else. Even if it is somebody as incredibly cool as I am. Ouch! Stop pinching me!”
“What would you call him then?”
“I don’t know … Ragnar?”
“Ragnar? Mm, not bad, but a bit old fashioned. And there have been a lot of rather violent Ragnars throughout history. I’m not sure they would be good role models. Oh! I’ve got it! How about Thialfi?”
“Thialfi? My thief alter ego?”
“Sure! Think of it, it’s perfect. I get my way because, to a certain degree, he’s still named after you. Sort of. Even better, he’s blond and your alter ego had blond hair as well. And the gods will also be pleased!”
“Oh? Will they?”
“You know who the first Thialfi is, right? A brave but slightly mischievous human boy, turned squire and servant to Thor and becoming in that way a kind of god himself. Thor will be pleased you name your first born after this young god.”
“I suppose he will. And it’s a nice name. Alright, I agree. Thialfi it is. Hello Thialfi,” he smiled to his son, who was getting ready to take a nap, “I hope you like your name.”
They all looked up and laughed, when they suddenly noticed Bloodwing, hanging half over the balcony, trying to look inside at what was going on. Anya could have sworn, the majestic animal was smiling.

The people of Griffnar were surprised when suddenly all the banners on every tower and flagpole were raised and every bell and horn in the mighty towers was sounded. By the way the bells rang, they knew it meant good news and the rumors, spread by the few people that had claimed to see the return of the jarl on his griffin, made most think it had to be about the war. They were not entirely wrong, as the announcers proclaimed that the war was over, won by Vestfjor. The people started to cheer but the second news was even more surprising; a son had been born to Falco and Anya. Falco was no longer the last Adler left in the world. The jarl of Vestfjor now had an heir.
This part starts with a diplomatic meeting, but soon turns more personal. Much more personal. Brace yourself people and keep the Kleenex close.

Pumori belongs to kanyiko
All the others belong to me.

Previous chapter: Falco's Reign - Part 81It was indeed a very happy reunion with Cailida. Miranda was of course glad to see her cousin again and Falco to have his old companion back from the days he pretended to be a young thief called Thialfi. But Cailida was truly overwhelmed when Rodey flew into her arms and hugged her joyously, only moments later followed by Pumori. For the first time in her life, the rough, tough, foul mouthed mercenary was completely lost for words. She had been a part of several outfits and expeditions, but she had never acquired many friends. To be greeted like this now, came as a big surprise. Even her resolve to say goodbye to them and announce she would be returning to Tarquinia, suddenly crumbled to dust and was forgotten almost immediately. She felt so moved that, to her embarrassment, a few tears appeared in her eyes. However, she quickly rescued the situation by locking Rodey by the neck under her right arm and Pumori under her left and saying, quasi serious:
“That’s enough, you suc


Next chapter: Falco's Reign - Part 83The weather was downright dreary. A thick blanket of clouds constantly covered the sky over Griffnar, while rain showers followed one after the other and heavy winds tore through the branches of the trees. But for the next three days, none of that mattered to Anya and Falco. To them, it could just as well have been high summer in Asgard. Apart from the obligatory appearance on the gatehouse to show their newborn son to the assembled masses, they kept themselves completely away from matters of state. Anya needed to rest and Falco simply didn’t want to do anything else then stay at her side and be close to his son.
Not that this was a real problem. Calvin, aided by Anya’s grandfather Ulric, made sure of that. Ulric might under other circumstances have frowned upon Falco’s absence during the council meetings, but right now, he was so overjoyed that he had become a great grandfather (and that Falco had finally accepted his responsibility to sire an heir) that he had decid
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