Though the longhouse was warmly lit by the crackling central fire pit, the rugged hunter shivered as if he were standing naked in the freezing wind.
Kjetil looked down at his bound hands, his one good eye wide.
"They are the white ghosts of the north." Kjetil whispered, "They are demons made of ice and hunger... Weapons just anger them."
Halig scoffed loudly, gripping his hunting knife. "Demons? Ghosts? Have you gone entirely mad, old man?"
"Wait, Halig..." Torstein suddenly interrupted, stepping forward.
Torstein looked at Erik, his grip tightening on his iron musket. "King Erik... Lord Commander Leofric spoke to me in private before we left City Titan. He told me that King Ragnar had a very specific warning for us if we sailed this far north. I thought it was just a strange story at the time."
"What kind of warning?" Erik asked.
