Numbly, Eirik carried on through the day. When he returned to his room, the window was open and there was a note on his bed. He stared at it for what felt like hours before finally reaching out and tearing it open, eager to get it over with.

For your first performance, I'll give you a break. You can sleep sound without me until the month is up. Sweet dreams, my lovely prince.

He tossed the offending letter in the fire and watched it curl. 'First performance' the words haunted him. He barely slept and the next day his father ordered him back to bed, the doctor tutting over his paleness and dark circles. He was given a draught and slept through the day. When he awoke, Godfrey, his new manservant, helped him dress. The outfit was more formal. He tried to focus. Ah the meeting with the Jarl's about the border.

Eirik had intended to use the meeting as a way of discovering whether the villians who had attacked his family were still alive and hiding somewhere in Hjor as the late Jarl Hurson had claimed. But now he knew they were alive, or at least she was. He played with the idea of sending troops into Hjor all through the start of the meeting.

"With all due respect, Your Highness. I don't see how Jarl Huson's untimely death should lead to any changes in Hjor’s borders."

The High King narrowed his eyes and Eirik paid closer attention. The speaker was a young man and it took him a moment to recognize him. Harold Sorenson. Rumors of his father's death had made it to the palace and Eirik had mechanically offered his condolences when the man had announced it.

Jarl Harold Sorenson of Hjor.

Words left Eirik's mouth before he realized it, "In light of two untimely deaths, this would be a befitting time to reconsider the north territories. It has been too long since I last inspected our northern border."

His father looked at him surprised but said nothing. Harold's pleasant expression didn't falter but his eyes flicked nervously between Eirik and his father. The prince was just beginning to think he might have started his path to freedom from Lyra and her monstrous family when Jarl Maelif coughed. "I don't think bringing more troops into the north would be wise at this...delicate time. This meeting was to disperse the royal battalion occupying Vosfell, not extend our defense forces thinner."

Eirik narrowed his eyes. Maelif had one of the largest personal armies and it was common knowledge that much of Valhym's illegal activities were centered in her Jarldom of Taka. She obviously didn't want him anywhere near her operations. He started to respond, but his father held up a wrinkled hand.

"A fair point, Maelif. However, perhaps you should spit out what you want now and save us your interruptions."

Maelif grinned, ignoring the jab. She knew the weight she could swing around and Eirik grit his teeth. This was a common play since the civil war. The crown had very little power to defy Jarls of Maelif's level. So his father was reduced to small jabs and placating them as quickly and painlessly as possible.

Jarl Maelif removed a scroll and rolled it out on the table, smoothing the edges with her dark painted nails. "I have already discussed possibilities with Jarl Elris, but here is my preposition."

Eirik frowned at the map. Most of Voswell would be absorbed into Jarl Elris's territory, but the east edge, the coastal edge, would be traded to Taka. Maelif would have doubled her coastline. He looked at Jarl Elris.

The older woman eyed the map with some distaste but said, "It would be prudent to give guidance to Voswell as soon as possible."

"I see no need to redefine your east borders, Elris," Eirik said, pointedly not looking to Maelif. "It would only cause the people distress and trouble to change those unaffected thus far by tragedy."

Elris gave him an approving nod and Maelif shot him a dangerous glance. Jarl Trandil, a large man who saw over the northernmost Jarldom of Greystone spoke for the first time, "Now Maelif, if we are shifting the borders for the fun of it, why not give me your land north of the bay?"

Trandil laughed at Maelif's indignant face and the king joined him before saying, "Now there's no need to over complicate the matters. Let Voswell be absorbed by Vanhelm completely and let's not change anything else. My son is right, these events have shaken our people enough."

Jarl Elris bowed her head at the gracious gift, but Maelif slammed a hand on the table. "With all due respect, Vanhelm does not have the manpower to oversee an addition nearly its current size. Even if Jarl Elris can rally Hurson's remaining men and repair the infrastructure, Hurson was barely managing as he was. If you allow my army to spread down the coast, Elris can use her coastguard to manage Voswell. From what I hear, their capabilities will be much needed. Voswell has suffered heavily from bandits the last decade."

Maelif's not-so-subtle reminder of her army's size was brushed aside in Eirik's mind at her mention of bandits. The comment also made Jarl Harold snap back to attention. He had drawn back, content to let the others fight for land.

Eirik watched him. Hjor was Voswell's neighbor as much as Vanhelm's. He could make easy claim on the land. It was odd that such a man like himself, new to the throne and with plenty of life left in him, was not jumping at the chance to get more power.

"Jarl Harold, what do you think?" Eirik said, calling the man out who flinched but recovered quickly, smoothing back his hair.

"I agree with Your Majesty. Minimal change is what is best for the people, but as I said before, the fate of Voswell is not my concern. I am here to ensure there are no changes to Hjor's borders."

Eirik frowned, a bit of a broken record. He pushed more. "You share a significant border with Voswell, do you agree with Maelif that forces are needed to stave off bandit attacks?"

Harold had a bead of sweat forming on his forehead, but he kept his eyes on the map. "I do not think it is as bad as Jarl Maelif has described, there have not been any significant disturbances in Hjor. However, it does not hurt to give the people and roads more security. If Taka and Vanhelm are willing to spread their forces to cover the late Jarl's abandoned lands then I can only applaud their patriotism."

The High King clapped. "Well said. Very well, if Jarl Elris has no objection then we will follow through with Jarl Maelif's proposal."

Eirik turned to his father in surprise but the old man had a satisfied smile on his face so his son didn't press. Jarl Maelif began detailed discussions of troop placements and trade routes until Eirik found himself tuning it out. When he refocused and saw the final result of the discussion drawn on the map he understood.

Harold's mention of Maelif's troops spreading had been accurate. Her intimidatingly amassed army was spread down the coast, the heavy barrier needed against pirates or any naval threats. And the less unoccupied soldiers a Jarl had, the more comfortable the crown sat.

As the meeting closed, the Jarls were invited to return in a few hours for dinner. In the meantime, they dispersed to their rooms and Eirik slipped away from his father to corner Harold. He intercepted him in one of the smaller corridors. "Jarl Sorenson, a word?"

Harold turned, startled. He looked quite pale and a bit sickly but tried to recompose himself to minimal effect. "Ah, Prince Eirik. How can I help you?"

Eirik paused, unsure how to proceed. He wanted to demand the man tell him everything he knew about Bryn and Lyra but his years of diplomatic training stopped that brash route. Instead, he took a more sideways approach. "Jarl, I'm sure you are aware that before his death, Tyrik Hurson approached the king for permission to bring troops into your late father's borders. We never received any word on the outcome of this assault. With both parties no longer with us, I have to wonder what happened."

Harold opened his mouth and then closed it. He swallowed dryly and said, "Jarl Hurson never made it to Hjor. My father died suddenly in his sleep."

Eirik raised an eyebrow and Harold put his hands behind his back and with a strained voice added, "Perhaps he was waylaid by the bandits Maelif spoke of."

Taking a step closer to the man, his irritation rising, Eirik said, "Oh I'm sure those bandits had a hand in his death.”

Harold bowed quickly. "If you'll excuse me, Your Highness." He turned to leave and Eirik took his shoulder, spinning him around. Harold cried out and Eirik grabbed the front of his shirt. The Jarl was shaking.

"I want answers, dammit! Who are they? Where did they come from? Why haven't you stopped them?"

Harold gripped Eirik's wrist and looked at him with such fear that Eirik recoiled and loosened his grip. "Look, I don't want to hurt you, but since Hurson is dead, his claim that your father was harboring dangerous people must have been true. Let me help you."

A strangled laugh bubbled from Harold's throat and he slumped. After a moment he looked up at Eirik. "If you want to help me, kill me now."

Eirik let go and tore his arm from Harold's grip. "What are you talking about? Are you enchanted?"

Perhaps the people were right and this was the Brimstones, maybe she was a Blade of Kor and had enchanted the Jarls of Hjor with demonic power.

Harold tipped to the side and slumped against the wall. "I can't...I'm sorry...I will do it myself." He stood with some confidence and turned down the hall.

Eirik processed what he said and strode forward. "Wait!"

The Jarl's slow steps turned into a run and Eirik tackled him. Harold struggled for a moment muttering, "Please just let me die. She'll find me. I just want it over."

Eirik called out for some guards and three rushed into the hall, a few curious faces peeking out doors as well. He spoke to the confused guards. "Take Jarl Harold to the dungeons...discreetly. I believe he's been cursed and he is trying to harm himself."

The guards recoiled at mention of dark magic, but obediently took Jarl Sorenson, who after being passed off, began struggling furiously. "No, you can't! Let me go!"

A guard gagged him and another split off to clear a path free of curious spectators. Eirik, a bit shaken from Harold's reaction, strode down the hall to meet with his father.

The High King was in his study, sitting on his favorite chair staring into the fire. "Father!" Eirik burst in, quickly shutting the door behind him.

The old man turned startled. "Eirik! What is the matter?"

"It's Jarl Sorenson, I confronted him about—" he paused to find the right word, "—about the attackers and he went crazy. He begged me to kill him and when I didn't, he ran off to do it himself. I think maybe we are dealing with Brimstones!"

The king's face sunk and he looked even older. "Imprisoning a Jarl will have severe repercussions. The others will not stand for it."

"But surely if they know—"

"It won't matter."

The king placed a hand on his face. "Any excuse to criticize us is welcome to the Jarls. I understand you wish to see your mother and I avenged, but if the Jarls have their way and you do not take the throne, Valhym will collapse. We are held together by the thinnest of threads and should we break, it is only a matter of time before the Solis Empire or the Duskar seize the opportunity. Maelif will try for the throne with her armies but Tola will not make it easy. War will erupt and Valhym cannot take another war."

It was a speech Eirik had heard a thousand times. The last three years had been an endless lesson on how important it was not to upset the Jarls. He was sick of it. "But if the Brimstones have made a rise, we can turn attention to them, use this as a chance to put the Jarl's eagerness to fight to work for the people."

His father shook his head. "They are not Brimstones."

"How can you know?"

"He came to avenge his wife."

Eirik paused at his father's harsh tone and the king continued, "A man who has sold his soul cares not for anyone else. He is the vilest man in Valhym and I will enjoy watching him burn in hell, but he is still a man. Do you not think I investigated the Bear? His influence runs through the country like a disease. It will not be rooted out in one attack, it will take time. Time I do not have."

"Father..."

The king looked Eirik in the eyes, his blue orbs faded. "You must take the throne, ally yourself with good Jarls, stand ground against the corrupted. Help us recover from the war, until we are strong enough to be united as a nation again."

There was a fierce knocking and the sound of raised voices. The door opened and a stern looking guard walked in. He saluted. "Your Majesty, Jarl Maelif wishes to speak with you."

With the Jarl obviously right outside, the king nodded gratefully at the guard. "You may see her in." He turned to Eirik. "I forbid you to talk to her, I will handle this."

As Maelif entered, Eirik stood by his father's side, fuming to be treated like a naughty school boy. The king waved a hand, inviting the Jarl in and setting the expectation for a bow.

She gave a short one before launching into her tirade, "I had thought we'd made our rights clear to you, Your Highness, and imprisonment of a Jarl is not something you can do on a whim. I demand you release Jarl Sorenson at once and offer a formal public apology."

Eirik bristled, eager to explain, but he bit his tongue and let his father speak.

"Let me explain." The king groaned and stood up. Even hunched, he was taller than Maelif. "The Jarl wished himself harm. My son was concerned for his safety and feared he was not himself. As I'm sure your spies reported, we had a series of Brimstone incidents recently. It has put us all on edge and we have to be vigilant for signs that the problem continues. I ask you let our mage examine him tonight. Brimstones or not, Yoriv will see to the problem one way or another and the good Jarl will be back with us by breakfast."

Maelif eyed the king suspiciously and Eirik wanted to call her out for impertinence but she nodded. "Very well."

"And Maelif, I would appreciate some discretion. I do not wish to start a panic, you know how the Brimstones, or even word of them, brings out the worst. With so many strangers in the castle, things would get out of hand." The king looked at her meaningfully and, although she bristled, she again nodded before leaving.

The High King swayed and Eirik helped him back into his chair. "Thank you, Eirik. Now please find Yoriv for me. Brimstones or not, it wouldn't hurt to have him looked over."

Eirik headed for the cellar where Yoriv's laboratory was. Not surprisingly, the man was there, making notes in a large tome. Eirik tapped him on the shoulder and he held up a finger. "One moment....and....there. Now what—" He turned and saw the prince. "Oh beg pardon, Your Highness, how can I be of service?"

"There's a bit of a problem. The Jarl of Hjor is in the dungeons and my father has requested you see if he is the victim of some magic. Discreetly."

Yoriv's bushy eyebrows rose above his spectacles. "The Jarl? In prison? Why we must go at once!"

He turned to leave but then spun back around. "Oh, what am I thinking? A thorough test will take preparation. Now I'm all mixed up. Let's see," he rummaged in a drawer and removed an old stone with a hole in the center, "an adder stone to see."

Eirik turned to lead the mage, but Yoriv turned away from the door again to pick a volume of his bookshelf and began flipping through the pages, muttering, "Let's see, best we be able to know which demon we're dealing with should a sign appear..."

After a painfully long minute of browsing, he tucked the book under his arm. Once again Eirik turned to leave but the mage stayed where he was tapping his chin. "Ah! A lodestone too! It will help draw any curses out."

Eirik coughed. "It is a matter of urgency."

The mage gave him a stern look, "Now, Prince Eirik, you should know by now that magic is a serious science with delicate processes that must be followed. If I am to deal with demon magic, I will not do so without proper preparations to avoid unleashing something worse. When I have finished my preparations I will send word to you, although I do not recommend you be present as I cleanse the Jarl. You are too valuable to risk any more exposure to Brimstone harm."

"Will it be long?"

"Not long, although Krakoss's Agent of Containment does require significant time to activate..."

"How long, Yoriv?" Eirik let his irritation show and the mage frowned, adjusting his glasses.

"One...no, two hours as I calculate it."

Eirik threw his hands up in annoyance. "Fine! But send word as soon as you finish, And, Yoriv, move quickly.”

Stalking out of the lab and through the halls, Eirik noticed faces watching him. A few courtesans whose glances met his for a moment moved to ask questions but he hurried on. To avoid the gossip of the capital, he went to his room and paced.