Harald
Harald hurried through the old tunnels under the town of XXXXX. They were like those of Anshill, and not so much like those of Stonehill. They were large, and ancient. Built by the Tutha, it had allowed them to flee from the Fabians, and later the Old Blood. Most were large enough for several craft to fly through, but there were dozen if no hundreds of branching smaller tunnels, and all of them were in various states of disrepair, but they always seemed to see signs of fresh sight.
It had been several days since they had entered the tunnels at Anshill with Commander Sunders, a member of the local militia of Isca, and old friend of Nena.
Harald would have been lying if he said he knew where they were. He had no clue, they could have been anywhere on the tunnel, and had even had a small glimpse of a map of the tunnels from Commander Sunders. To his surprised it seemed like the whole world was linked to some tunnel beneath the surface of Isca, but under the cities and towns they were a maze like nothing he had even seen, even under Stonehill.
“Almost there,” Commander Bruce said as they climbed an old crumbling set of stairs.
“Thank the gods,” Quincey said as he huffed and puffed.
Some of Commander Sunder’s men gave a chuckle. They had escorted them since they had arrived in Anshill. Hyrum hadn’t been the only one watchful of them Harald had noticed. Although the kids were quick to accept their help to carry their packs, Echo seemed to eyed them as it walked with the group, but never far from Harald.
Echo never spoke unless Harald spoke to him, and only answered direct question, but he also seemed to listen to Harald. Not obey him, but listen, at least enough for Harald to clean the flith him his metal body, and relieve the fear of some of the kids.
“Here we go,” Commander Sunders said as they reached a sealed hatch. He pushed it open, and the room on the other side was darker than the on they were in.
Harald walked in with the others as flash lights lit the room. He realized they were in some basement, and that the back side of the door had blended into the wall. They made their way up another set of smaller stairs, and Harald realized they were in some abandoned Holdfast, or farmstead. Some estate of some kind, but long since anyone had called it home.
“Uncle!” Harald heard Nena shout as a large beard man that put Hyrum to shame stood out next to several armed people.
“Nena!” the man said, and opened his arms, and embraced the shield-maiden.
Harald couldn’t hear them as they spoke to one another for a while, and than the large lord looked at Harald for a moment, and stepped towards him.
“Lord Frost,” Lord Woodsmith said, and bent to one knee, and bowed his head respectfully. “I am sorry for your lost, your father…” the lord shook his head. “Lord Frost, you have my oath, you have my protection. You are among friends, and you are safe. As I swore to serve your father, now too do I swear to serve you.”
Harald stiffened his back, and looked and the lord. “Thank you,” he said, and tried to keep his voice strong. “Thank you,” he said again.
