The keepers of Reuzen Field claimed that the land remained rich because of the favor of the gods, but that favor came at a steep cost. Iron, and a lot of it.

“You mustn’t get too close, Prince Heiko, lest we awaken the Revenants.”

Heiko turned to find Hugo, one of his brother’s hirdmen. A grin spread across his lips.

“Do the Revenants frighten you, Hugo?” He could hear the shift of the man’s boots on the stiff grass behind him. “That’s good to know – cowardice and impiety cannot coexist. Not for long, at least.”

Heiko's gaze shifted from Hugo to the battlefield before him. It was a place he knew well - a place where he had fought and bled for his kingdom countless times.

“Prince Heiko, it’s time to go.” Hugo huffed. “Now.”

“Is it?” he drawled, knowing that it would only rile up the man standing before him. But he didn't care - he was in control here and he relished every moment of it. The gods may have their own plans for him, but for now, he was still Prince Heiko - strong, fierce, and unyielding.

A few meters away, Seneschal Jurgen stood with his horse, calmly stroking its muzzle. If he knew what was transpiring, he made an awfully good show of pretending otherwise. And that was fine enough for the prince.

He slid his gaze back to the oily hirdman.

“Nothing more than a lowly servant of King Ingo and, somehow, you believe you have risen to a station in which it is your prerogative to command me?”

Hugo’s hand jerked instinctively, his fingers brushing against the hilt of his weapon.

“Coward indeed,” Heiko murmured with a sly grin, sweeping his foot behind him as he slowly backed away towards the field. “Tell me, what do you know of this sacred field, Hugo?”

For the length of their journey south, the king’s hirdman had been attempting to assert authority over the youngest prince of Simo – thinking he had the right to do so because his recent promotion in the king’s guard provided him a raw insight of how the rest of the Simonese Witan made a game out of trying to topple his position in court. But like all those who attempted such foolishness before him, Hugo stood no chance against Heiko's endless well of cunning and sharp insults. True to form, his provocation was enough to provoke Hugo into rash action.

“Enough with the games, Prince Heiko!” he snarled, stomping after the prince.

With a desperate lunge, he reached out to grab Heiko's arm, but very few men had the agility of the cheeky prince – least of all this boar. Still, he remained undeterred by his failure, following the prince like a pig to slaughter. “His Majesty has granted me many liberties regarding your person, and I will not hesitate to exercise them!”

“How frightening.” The placation came out as natural as his own breath, dodging again and then once more, before his heel grazed a remarkably familiar stone marker. Pulse spiking with cool adrenaline, he leapt backwards over it, landing solidly within the bounds of Reuzen Field. “You drone on and on about the power you hold over me, as if the very thought of it titillates you far more than it should, Hugo, but you’ve provided no proof – you’ve exerted no authority.”

A growl lingered on the man’s viciously curled lips as he gave a moment of pause, listening to the prince’s taunting – allowing its content to rile him even further.

“Like a mangy hound who has been relieved of his manhood.”

“You little shit!” he hissed as he lunged again, this time seizing Heiko with no resistance. Curling his fingers around a fistful of embroidered velvet far more expensive than anything the hirdman could ever comprehend purchasing, he jerked the prince closer.

Despite the discrepancy of more than a decade, Hugo was forced to lift his chin to meet the prince’s gaze. This only fueled his simmering ire.

“Do you truly believe it is wise to rouse me, viper?” Spittle spewed from his mouth, cheeks burning hot like a man spurned. “Answer me!”

“That is not wise.”

Seneschal Jurgen’s deep timbre was closer than Heiko had anticipated – like a wraith, that one: meandering in silence until he happened upon a soul to startle, and just as riddled with tedium.

“Mind your own, Jurgen,” Hugo snapped.

Heiko could not fault him for acting like the prey he was – keeping his gaze on the predator, never to turn his back – but, if he had only glanced in the seneschal’s direction, he would’ve ascertained the true peril of his situation. Jurgen remained on Simo soil… and he did not.