Robin Hood | Thief of Skandia

Chapter 30 (OberJarl?)

Song: Rude by Magic

Ragnak's body was cremated after the trial.

The Oberjarl had died in the final moments, before the Temujai had begun their withdrawal. He had died battling a group of eighteen Temujai warriors. Two of them survived – so badly injured they could barely crawl away from the terrifying figure of the Skandian leader.

There was no way of knowing who had struck the fatal blow, if, indeed, there had been one. They counted over fifty separate wounds on the Oberjarl, half a dozen of which could have caused death under ordinary conditions. As was the Skandian custom, the body was laid on his cremation pyre as it was – without any attempt to clean away the blood or the mire of battle.

The four Araluans were invited to pay their last respects to the dead Oberjarl and they stood silently for a few moments before the massive pile of pitch-soaked pine logs, gazing up at the still figure. Then, politely but firmly, they were informed that the funeral of an Oberjarl, and the subsequent election of his successor, was a matter for Skandians only and they returned to Halt's apartment to await events.

The funeral rituals went on for three days. This was a tradition that had been established to allow jarls from outlying settlements time to reach Hallasholm and participate in the election of the next Oberjarl. Obviously, there were few jarls expected from the areas that the Temujai had already passed through, and the majority of the others had already been summoned to repel the invasion. But tradition called for a three-day period of mourning – which, in Skandia, took the form of a lot of drinking and much enthusiastic recounting of the deceased's prowess in battle.

And tradition, of course, was sacred to the Skandians – particularly tradition that involved a lot of drinking and carousing late into the night. It was noticeable that the amount of liquor consumed and the degree of enthusiasm in the recounting of Ragnak's prowess seemed to be in direct correlation. Now this was why Robin Hood came to Skandia for drinking like this, despite being free of their sentence both her and Erak found themselves together during the celebrations. Hood had become very popular among the Skandians.

On the third night, Hood left, slinking away into the night with out so much a word to anyone, taking all of her belongings with her- only her belongings.

Finally, the period of mourning was over, and the senior jarls gathered in the Great Hall to elect their new Oberjarl. Will said hopefully, 'Do you think Erak has a chance?' But his hopes were dashed when Halt shook his head.

'He's a popular war leader, but he's only one of four or five. Add to that the fact that he's no administrator. And he's certainly no diplomat, either,' he added with some feeling.

'Is that important?' Horace asked. 'From what I've seen, diplomacy is very low on the list of required skills in this country.'

Halt acknowledged the point with a grin. 'True,' he admitted. 'But a certain amount of schmoozing is necessary when there's an election among peers like this. Nobody gives their vote because you're the best candidate. They vote for you because you can do something for them.'

'I guess the fact that Erak's spent the last few years as Ragnak's chief tax collector isn't going to help, either,' Will chipped in. 'After all, a lot of the people voting are the ones he's threatened to brain with an axe.'

Again Halt nodded. 'Not a good career move if you hope to be Oberjarl one day.'

In truth, the Ranger was indulging in a mild form of personal superstition by talking down Erak's chances in the election. There were still issues to be settled between Skandia and Araluen and he would have preferred to be settling them with Erak as the Skandian supreme leader. Still, the more they talked, the slimmer Erak's chances became. He hadn't known about the tax collecting until Will mentioned it. That would seem to put the final stopper on the Jarl's chances.

Not, he realised, that Erak had shown the slightest interest in becoming Oberjarl.

And, after all, Halt's three companions were only interested in his chances because he was a friend and the only senior Skandian leader they knew well.

'He probably wouldn't make a good Oberjarl anyway,' Horace decided. 'What he really wants to do is get back to sea in his wolfship and go raiding somewhere.'

The others all agreed.

Which only goes to show how wrong you can be when you indulge in reasoned, rational discussion. On the fifth day, the door to Halt's apartment opened and a stunned-looking Erak stepped in, looked around at the four expectant faces and said:

'I'm the new Oberjarl.'

'I knew it,' said Halt instantly, and the other three looked at him, totally scandalised.

'You did?' Erak asked, his voice hollow, his eyes still showing the shock of his sudden elevation to the highest office in Skandia.

'Of course,' said the Ranger, shrugging. 'You're big, mean and ugly and those seem to be the qualities Skandians value most.'

Erak drew himself up to his full height, trying to muster the sort of dignity that he felt an Oberjarl should assume.

'Is that how you Araluans speak to an Oberjarl?' he asked, and Halt finally grinned.

'No. That's how we speak to a friend. Come in and have a drink.'

A few drinks later there was a knock on the door, Horace got up to open it. Twisting the door handle he saw Hood. 'Robin!' He exclaimed, delighted.

'We thought you had left without saying goodbye!' Will declared, equally delighted, the Araulens- like the Skandians had become close with Robin, enjoying her company.

'I was at Vanaheim. Besides how could I leave without congratulating my favourite skipper.'

'Have a drink Hood.' Erak gestured and Halt passed her a mug of ale, she grinned looking around at her friends.