Joern stayed the night, then packed up and set out early the next morning.
He even remembered to haggle with Bradley, trading some corn and spices for several baskets of smoked fish, which he happily stowed among his supplies.
It seemed he truly liked this richly flavored, long-lasting specialty of the Red Tide Fief.
Before leaving, he waved casually and said to Louis with a grin:
"I'll come again next spring. We'll have to take another bath together!"
The knights and accompanying soldiers were all red-faced from holding back their laughter.
For a moment, a strange yet lively atmosphere filled the space before the castle gates.
Louis pressed a hand to his forehead helplessly and watched Joern lead his imposing procession away, taking his knights, grain, and a cartload of smoked fish with him.
Snow descended silently upon the Northern Frontier.
The wind made not a sound in the night, merely brushing quietly across the land.
At the first faint light of dawn, Louis stood at the window, gazing out at a world turned white.
The cold air carried a damp scent, and the villages, hillsides, and riverbanks of the Red Tide Fief were already covered in a thin layer of silvery white.
The falling snow was like a gauzy veil, slowly settling over the entire fief.
Outside the window, snow had begun to dress the village rooftops in white, while the trees seemed draped in silver robes as they stood silently in the cold wind.
It all looked impossibly beautiful.
Yet it also meant that the Northern Frontier's hardest season had finally arrived.
For the lords of the Northern Frontier, the greatest challenge was not the cold itself, but keeping life running throughout the long winter.
Supplies, provisions, fire, animal hides... every one of them was especially important.