Ragnar unlocked the door and marched down the spiral stairs.
The closer he got to the Great Hall, the louder the noise became.
It was the booming roar of hundreds of wealthy nobles, clan chiefs, and foreign kings celebrating the peak of Iron Kingdom wealth.
He pushed the double doors open, and a wave of heat and the rich smell of roasted venison washed over him.
Sitting near the high table, already drinking from glass cups, were the leaders of the old world.
Prince Alfred of Wessex was laughing with King Burgred of Mercia.
They were wearing their finest silk tunics and heavy gold chains, but they looked around the brightly lit hall with awe.
"King Ragnar!" Leofric announced loudly, "The Iron King arrives!"
The kings, the dukes, and the clan leaders all stood up, raising their cups of dark ale and spiced wine.
They were genuinely excited. Every single person in this room was a vassal to Ragnar's empire, and they were all desperate to stay on his good side.
