The coastline stretched before them, a dark ribbon against the brightening sky. Rannveig's gaze shifted from the prisoner to Sigrida. Despite the evident fatigue in her posture, Sigrida's eyes remained alert, scanning the horizon for potential threats. Rannveig felt a twinge of surprise at the thrall's unwavering vigilance. Perhaps she had been too hasty in her judgment of the young woman.

  Her contemplation was interrupted by Erik's low, angry voice. "Last chance. Tell us who sent you, and I'll make your death quick and painless."

  The captive spat into the water. "Never."

  "Who was with you? Are there others coming?" Erik pressed, his tone hardening.

  The prisoner only laughed in response. Erik leaned forward angrily, his fist clenched, but Rannveig's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

  "That's enough, my friend," she said calmly, her voice carrying a note of quiet authority.

  "At least let me blindfold him," Erik growled. "He's seen too much of our route already."

  Rannveig nodded, and Erik roughly tied a cloth around the prisoner's eyes. Then he sat back, frustration evident in his white-knuckled grip on the boat's edge. Rannveig caught Sigrida's eye, silently communicating to keep patient.

  Rannveig turned her attention to the captive, recognizing that force would yield nothing. She needed a different approach, one that would channel the man's own motivations to serve their purpose.

  "This must be difficult for you," she said gently, tending to his wounds. As she worked, she spoke softly, her words carefully chosen. "It's a hard life, following orders of powerful men. Always expendable, never appreciated. You owe your master no loyalty."

  The prisoner tensed at her voice, silent but uncertain. Rannveig noted the slight tilt of his head, recognizing an opening she could use to reach him.

  "There's no honor in suffering for a cause that doesn't value you," Rannveig continued, her voice a soothing contrast to the earlier threats. "We can help each other."

  Rannveig offered him water, which he accepted with caution. She observed his posture relax slightly. The seed of trust had been planted; now it needed careful nurturing.

  As they continued along the coast, Sigrida leaned close to Rannveig, her voice barely a whisper. "Why this kindness? He's our enemy. We need information on Gunnar's strategy."

  Rannveig's response was equally hushed, her lips barely moving. "Threats are crude and temporary. To truly alter a man's course, you must shift his perspective. Besides, if we force him, we risk getting false information. He might tell us anything to make the pain stop."

  Sigrida pulled back slightly, her brow furrowed. A mix of confusion and discomfort flickered across her face at Rannveig's calm presence. She opened her mouth as if to speak again, then closed it, choosing instead to turn her gaze to the horizon.

  Erik observed the exchange silently, his skepticism evident in the tightness of his jaw. Yet he too remained quiet, deferring to Rannveig's approach despite his reservations. He consoled himself with the thought that if gentler methods failed, there would always be time for more forceful tactics later.

  The boat moved steadily towards the secret inlet while Rannveig continued her subtle interrogation of the prisoner. Her questions, though seemingly casual, were carefully chosen to probe his background and loyalties.

  The prisoner remained guarded, grunting noncommittally at her inquiries. Rannveig maintained her composure, her steady gaze never leaving him as she searched for signs of wavering resolve.

  Sigrida's patience had worn thin. Her fists clenched as she glared at their captive. "All we've gotten are useless grunts," she said, moving towards him with clear intent.

  Rannveig smoothly interposed herself between Sigrida and the man. She fixed Sigrida with a hard stare, then glanced meaningfully at Erik. Both seemed to understand the unspoken command and backed down, though reluctantly.

  Rannveig turned back to the prisoner, her voice calm and measured. "This journey must be taxing. At our destination, you'll find comfort – food, rest, fair treatment."

  The man remained stoic, but Rannveig pressed on, her words carefully chosen. "What shall we call you?"

  "Haakon," he muttered after a pause.

  "Haakon," Rannveig echoed, her tone neutral. "A noble name - 'chosen son.' Tell me, Haakon, who awaits your return? Family? Children, perhaps?"

  Haakon's stony facade cracked slightly. "A son," he said gruffly. "Just a boy."

  Rannveig's eyes softened. "A father's love is a powerful thing. Your son must be proud to have such a brave man as his father."

  She leaned closer, her voice low and persuasive. "Unburden yourself, Haakon. Help us, and I promise your family's safety. This long journey could end, and you could see your son again."

  Erik shifted impatiently, while Sigrida looked baffled. They couldn't see the subtle web Rannveig was weaving, but they held back, allowing her to work.

  Like the wind filling their sail, Rannveig's gentle voice carried across the water with practiced smoothness. Haakon's shoulders tensed, then relaxed fractionally—a small victory.

  She turned to Sigrida and Erik, her voice pitched for Haakon to overhear. "It's tragic to see an honorable man trapped in such a position, ordered to harm women for a jarl who views him as disposable."

  Her tone softened with compassion. "I hope we can offer Haakon a better future. One where he isn't forced to choose between his honor and his survival."

  Though she addressed her companions, her words were clearly meant for Haakon's ears. Erik and Sigrida remained silent, trying to understand the subtle strategy at play.

  Rannveig observed Haakon intently. His jaw remained clenched, but his posture betrayed him. His shoulders, once rigid with defiance, slowly drooped forward. The proud set of his spine gave way to a slight curve.

  A flicker of understanding crossed her face. She recognized the signs of a man grappling with an uncomfortable truth. Haakon's slumped posture spoke volumes about the internal conflict her words had sparked. The realization that his actions might be seen as dishonorable rather than virtuous was clearly taking its toll.

  The rocky cliffs loomed above them as they hugged the rugged shoreline. Rannveig knew these physical dangers paled in comparison to the mental battle Haakon now faced. Her words had found their mark.

  By midday, they reached the hidden inlet. Its entrance, barely visible among the rocky outcroppings, promised a brief respite. Relief washed over the group as they navigated into the sheltered cove, the calm waters a welcome change from the open sea.

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  Erik guided their boat up the narrow, shallow river, his eyes scanning the forested banks. Sigrida took up the oars, her muscles straining against the current. Dense forest surrounded them, the canopy filtering sunlight and casting dappled shadows on the water.

  Rannveig absorbed the lush greenery and forest sounds. Birds chirped overhead, while rustling leaves hinted at unseen wildlife. The winding stream twisted through the trees, its shallow waters unsuitable for larger vessels.

  Erik motioned them close. In a whisper meant only for Rannveig and Sigrida, he said, "We’ll reach the fork in the river before nightfall."

  Sigrida leaned in, matching his quiet tone. "Then we can make camp at Gorm's cabin and get some rest."

  The river carried them steadily forward, Sigrida's determination never wavering. Erik kept watch while Rannveig observed Haakon closely.

  Rannveig positioned herself beside Haakon. "I know you were ordered to attack us," she began softly. "But there's an opportunity here for true honor."

  Haakon's face remained impassive, but Rannveig noticed his slight head tilt towards her.

  "Real courage lies in protecting those who fight with honor, who wouldn't raise a hand against women or children. By helping us, you could embody the virtues of a true Viking warrior."

  Rannveig paused, letting her words sink in. "Think on it, Haakon. Your actions now could shape the kind of man your son sees when he looks at you."

  Haakon looked down, saying nothing, but Rannveig caught the tightness in his jaw. She didn't press further, instead turning her attention to the journey. The late evening light lingered, a characteristic of the long summer days, but they still needed to reach Gorm's cabin soon.

  As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting a warm glow through the trees, the forest began to stir with the early evening activities of its inhabitants. They pressed on toward Skogstrand, hoping Haakon would reveal how Gunnar's men had found them and what his jarl was planning

  The voyagers had passed the midway point up the narrow river, their progress slow but steady against the current. Glimpses of light ahead signaled their approach to the river fork and Gorm's cabin, where they hoped to find respite and sustenance. As they neared the shore, Sigrida skillfully maneuvered the boat towards a sturdy tree at the water's edge. She leapt out, rope in hand, and secured the vessel with a series of quick knots.

  Erik helped the Rannveig get out, then led her towards the wooden cabin nestled among the trees. He knocked firmly on the door. After a few moments, it creaked open to reveal Gorm, standing in the doorway with a oil lamp in hand.

  "Gorm?" Erik asked. "I am Erik, hirdman to Torbjorn of Skogstrand. We have urgent business with him and seek shelter for the night."

  Gorm's eyes narrowed briefly, then softened with recognition. "I know Torbjorn well. He's a good man. Come in," he said, stepping aside. "You are most welcome here, as kin of Torbjorn."

  As they entered, a younger man appeared from the back of the cabin. "Sven, fetch some food and drink for our guests," Gorm said. Sven nodded and hurried off.

  "Thank you," Rannveig said softly. "We have traveled far and are very tired."

  Gorm's expression warmed further. "I can see that. Make yourselves comfortable. My home is yours for the night."

  The cabin was cozy, with a crackling fire and simple but sturdy furniture. A few stacked fur pelts and wooden stretchers in the corner hinted at Gorm's trade. Gorm led them to a rough-hewn table where they could rest. Sven soon returned, laying out bread, cheese, and ale for the weary travelers.

  The group filed gratefully into the warmth of the cabin. Gorm stoked the fire and gestured for them to sit, the familiar scent of cured hides mingling with the aroma of fresh food.

  As they ate with ravenous appetite, Gorm asked about their journey.

  "We're searching for Torbjorn," Erik said, breaking a moment of silence. "We know he's in the mountains somewhere."

  Gorm nodded slowly. "I haven't seen him recently, but Sven might know his whereabouts. He checks the fur traps in these forests daily."

  Sven stepped forward. "I know where Torbjorn is. I can find him and arrange a meeting, though it may take until morning."

  Erik relaxed for the first time since they'd arrived. "Thank you, Sven. That would be a great help."

  As Sven prepared for his journey, the others settled in for the night. Erik and Gorm cleared the table while Sigrida and Rannveig prepared sleeping pallets. Haakon sat nearby, hands still bound.

  Rannveig approached Haakon with a bowl of stew, noting the subtle changes in his mannerisms. His eyes, once hard with defiance, now held a glimmer of uncertainty.

  As Haakon ate, Rannveig settled beside him. He seemed less guarded than he had been that morning, a sign her words had taken root.

  "Haakon," she began, her voice low, "this moment offers you a crossroads. The path you choose now could redefine your legacy, for yourself and for your son."

  Erik watched from across the room, his posture stiff, occasionally shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Sigrida busied herself with small tasks, but her eyes frequently darted to the ongoing conversation.

  Haakon's brows furrowed, but Rannveig caught the flicker of longing in his eyes.

  "Your knowledge, your experience – they're valuable. They could save lives, bring peace. Isn't that worth more than an oath to a man who doesn't value you?"

  She let the question hang in the air, watching as Haakon wrestled with his inner conflict.

  As Rannveig continued her gentle questioning, Erik's fingers tapped restlessly against his leg. Sigrida's movements became more abrupt, the clatter of dishes betraying her growing impatience.

  Erik took a half-step forward, but before he could intervene, Haakon's mood had changed. His head bowed slightly, then he raised his eyes to meet Rannveig's.

  Finally, Haakon spoke, his voice low but steady. "You should know that Torbjorn’s girl was right to flee." He met each of their eyes before continuing. "Gunnar has a vicious temper, especially towards women."

  Haakon's words fell like heavy stones. He recounted Gunnar's brutal acts: a slave girl beaten to death for refusing him, another left with brain damage from his attack.

  The room seemed to grow colder. Horror filled Sigrida's eyes as the color drained from her face. Rannveig bit her lip, suppressing her anger and revulsion.

  Though Haakon conceded that Einar might differ from his father, he stressed the danger of remaining in that household. Gunnar's rage could explode without warning at any moment.

  Rannveig, maintaining her composure despite the shocking revelations, leaned in. Her voice was steady, betraying none of the turmoil she felt about her own potential future. "Haakon, should such a man command the loyalty of honorable warriors? Of men like yourself?"

  Haakon shook his head, his voice hesitant. "There's... there's more. Gunnar never intended to keep the peace, even if the marriage had gone through."

  He paused, gathering his thoughts. The others remained silent, waiting.

  "The chieftain's daughter... she was just a pawn in Gunnar's larger game." Haakon's words came slowly, as if each one pained him. "My cousin guards Gunnar's private chambers. He's seen things... heard things."

  Another pause. Erik, Sigrida, and Rannveig exchanged glances but said nothing.

  "Gunnar has plans... he aims to expand." Haakon's voice grew quieter. "To surround and overtake Magnus's domain... from north and south."

  As Haakon spoke, realization dawned on the faces of his listeners. They thought of the recent piracy attacks, the mysterious support for southern tribes. Pieces of a larger puzzle were falling into place.

  "He would have used Torbjorn's resources... against everyone." Haakon continued, his words coming easier now. "All while slowly weakening Skipavik's trade... building his forces in secret."

  Erik moved closer, his voice carrying newfound respect. "Haakon, how did you find us? How did you know of our departure?"

  "Gunnar's ears are everywhere," Haakon said wearily. "Perhaps a thrall overheard your plans, or a guard saw you leave. We were only told of the secret port." He hesitated, then added, "I heard talk that the Jarl's son hadn't been seen at Fjell?rn for weeks, around when the chieftain's daughter ran. Gunnar must've gotten suspicious. He sent watchers to Skipavik and Fjell?rn after that."

  Sigrida's mind flashed to their journey from Skipavik to Fjell?rn - the steady stream of traders, farmers, and travelers on the road. She had barely noted their faces then. Now she wondered how many had been Gunnar's men, how many seemingly innocent passersby had carried information back to their enemy.

  Rannveig's jaw tightened - the only sign of her disgust at learning of spies within her father's fortress.

  The three exchanged glances, the truth settling heavily between them. While they had worried about Gunnar's armies, his web of spies had already spread through both settlements. No wonder he had seemed to anticipate their every move.

  Haakon fell silent, eyes downcast.

  "Your honesty honors you," Rannveig said. "A better path awaits you, away from Gunnar's shadow."

  As Haakon's head drooped with exhaustion, the weight of his words settled heavily upon them all. Their mission to forge an alliance between Torbjorn and Magnus had become even more vital.

  Erik rose. "We should all rest. Tomorrow will test us." After ensuring Haakon was securely bound for the night, they settled down to sleep, knowing their success could mean the difference between peace and destruction for both their clans