"Lord Bjorn!" the scout panted, quickly giving a sharp military salute. "A fast-clipper just arrived from City Titan. It bypassed the merchant lanes. The captain said this message is from the Iron King himself."
Bjorn sat up straight, the bored, annoyed administrator entirely vanishing. He snatched the leather tube from the scout's hands, breaking the heavy wax seal with his thumb.
"Get the boy some hot stew and a dry tunic," Bjorn ordered Hakon, his eyes already scanning the rolled parchment.
Hakon nodded, leading the exhausted scout out of the room and closing the door securely behind them.
Bjorn was left entirely alone in the quiet office... he unrolled the parchment, holding it close to the oil lamp on his desk.
The handwriting was definitely Ragnar's... sharp, highly efficient, and slightly rushed.
He read the first few lines, and a genuine smile broke across his scarred face.
