They assembled in the Great Hall later that day, all of the jarls and haulds from across the realm. Pristine in oiled hauberks, polished helms and well-scrubbed faces, they stood in serried ranks, straight of back and hard of gaze. Behind them, set high upon the walls, torches spluttered giving off a dull, red glow. In the hearth, a huge fire roared, serfs forever running backwards and forwards, feeding the flames with thick, blackened logs. The tables laden with platters of roast boar, elk, salmon and pigeon, accompanied by full flagons of mead and ale, some so full they spilled over the rim and splattered the tabletop. No one spoke, but an air of anticipation filled the thick air, everyone waiting for the entrance of their new king.
In the antechamber, Queen Asta put the finishing touch
