Arvid's Punishment?

Arvid froze in place the moment he heard Askild's question. He knew the implication and had to think carefully about his next words, or it could be the last time he breathed.

"My lord, I wanted to confirm if there was any truth to the words he spoke before confirming here," Arvid said but Askild only stared at him blankly.

Soaking wet, Askild didn't mind the discomfort. It reminded him of simpler times as a child, but now, he had a decision to make regarding Arvid and the news he brought forward. He was keenly aware of the consequences if this information got out and how it would affect his image.

"For all I know, this could be your plot to frame Asger and take his place among my warriors. You bite the hand that feeds you but expect me to trust the words of a snake?" Askild said, his tone cutting. Arvid knew he couldn't remain silent.

"For all I know, this could be your plot to frame Asger and take his place as one of my warriors. You bite the hand that feeds you but expect me to trust the words of a snake?" Askild said, and Arvid knew he could not remain quiet.

"My lord! I would never insult you this way. That's why I brought this news to you!" Arvid protested, but King Askild was unimpressed.

"You bit the hand that fed you, Arvid. Asger made you who you are, yet you're willing to sell him out at the first chance you get. It seems you have no better use for that tongue of yours," Askild said, " It suddenly hit Arvid.

"M-My lord, you already knew, didn't you?" he stammered. The realization dawned on him that Askild's reasoning was clear. If Arvid could betray the man who made him, he wouldn't hesitate to betray the king if the opportunity arose. Askild wasn't entirely certain, but the probability was enough for him to act.

Realizing his predicament, Arvid began to beg. Through this, he learned something crucial about the kind of man Askild was.

"M-My lord! Please overlook my misstep," Arvid pleaded. Askild gestured to his guards, who immediately seized him, he was held in place.

"A man who cannot control his tongue has no need for it," Askild said as he left his throne. The sound of water dripping from his soaked clothes grew louder as he approached Arvid.

"My lord! I did it for Kattegat! I did it for you!" Arvid begged desperately, but the only response was Askild's footsteps drawing closer.

"A man must protect his sons, regardless of their sins," Askild said, finally standing before Arvid.

"Don't worry. I'm not killing you or throwing you in a dungeon. I'm merely solving a pesky little problem," Askild said. He did not draw his blade, instead commanding Arvid to stick out his tongue.

Arvid knew what was coming and was scared to death but anything was better than a non-warrior death, so he complied and stuck out his tongue.

King Askild smiled grimly before delivering an upper kick that slammed Arvid's lower jaw into his upper jaw, trapping his tongue like a rat in a trap. The impact tore through the tongue but didn't sever it completely, leaving it hanging grotesquely.

"This look suits you better," Askild remarked. Arvid was in visible agony.

He was reminded why everyone feared Askild, and it cost him his tongue as the guards let go of his arm and he could move once again, all he did was hold in his voice and rip off his tongue completely to show Askild he respected his judgment.

Askild was impressed by this demonstration of willpower, blood spilled out of his mouth.

"You may leave now, Arvid. I hope we won't have similar problems in the future," Askild said. Arvid nodded, bowed, and ran out.

Moments later, Liv entered the throne room. She noticed the blood on the floor and her husband, still soaked.

She moved to whisper into his ear, she told him to go change into something dry for it was not a good view for his warriors to see him in such an unrefined state. She had a point, and Askild listened to his wife leaving her alone in the throne room as he excused himself.

A man entered shortly after. He was muscular and tall, covered in tattoos from head to toe. His sharpened teeth and kohl-darkened eyes gave him a menacing appearance, and his red mohawk stood out. At 6'6". The moment he entered, all the guards tensed up and entered a battle stance, he carried a broad blade nearly as large as himself strapped to his back and held a sack in one hand. He was in his late twenties.

The man walked with the air of someone who owned the place. He held the same rank as Asger and commanded his own unit, having just returned from a two-year expedition in a neighboring country. This man was Erik, commonly known as Erik the Berserker.

"My queen," Erik said, bending the knee immediately, and Liv greeted him with a warm smile.

"How was it?" Liv asked her tone like that of a concerned mother.

"It was great, my queen. I have brought spoils of war I would like to show the king." Erik said and Liv looked back before returning her gaze to the man.

"He will be here soon. What spoils of war do you have?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Erik eagerly emptied the sack's contents, revealing a gruesome sight. Inside were decapitated heads from his expedition, their lifeless faces frozen in horror.