*So this is it. The Jarls leave this hall just as - or even more - divided than they were when they stepped in.* 

Erlender’s head was hung low, hands locked into fists at his sides. He wasn’t sure yet whether the sudden arrival of Daigon was a blessing or a curse. The man seemed all too willing to put the past behind for the good of the Isles. And if his warning of the Salished invasion was true, then it provided the clans ample time to prepare and fortify themselves. 

Yet, Daigon’s presence had also sparked old tensions and tempers were running hot. Already, Evar decried the moot and vowed to strike out on his own, with the rest of Vadrunna in tow. The Broken Hammer, too, voiced its recalcitrance in matters of leadership. The clans of the north would go back to their snowy wastes - back to the pale men they so loved to hate. All that left were the central clans, comfortably in the sphere of influence of either the Red Knot, Shattered Moon, and Stonecutters. Or the island clans, not beholden to either the north nor to Varvudda’s reach. These, Erlendr needed to address.

Erlendr watched the Varvuddas, the Broken Hammers and both of their dependent clans leave the hall. Hiding a grimace, he turned to the clans that were still gathered, palms held up in an appeasing gesture.

“Those of you that remain,” he said, “do so because your conviction is true. Varvudda has shown it cares only for itself, and the clans of the north are too thick in the head to look beyond their blizzards and mountains. But you - you remain where others have gone. You have the wisdom to see beyond petty feuds and borders. You know the clans must hold fast, lest they drift apart.”

His next words boomed through the hall. “I will not let this insubordination blind us to the dangers we face. I ask for your support as regent, so that no more treachery turns clan against clan and no day breaks where this kingdom falls!”

Upon hearing his father’s words, Gunni found himself standing, chest puffed, knuckles white as they gripped the rail at his waist. He’d always obeyed his father because he was blood; it was simply the right thing to do. Very seldomly did he feel obligated by a motive greater than Erlendr’s “I told you so’s” to follow and to serve. But something in his father, standing there before the clans at that moment, stirred his heart and his pride. He commanded respect, and Gunni would give his gladly.