King Harald

*Harald was young, no more than thirty winters, but he carried himself with the certainty of a king who had already won his crown a hundred times in his own mind. Lean and wiry rather than broad-shouldered, he moved with a restless, predatory energy. His hair was the pale gold, long on top and drawn back with leather straps, while the sides were shaved close to the scalp. A short, well-kept beard framed a jaw sharp enough to cut words from the air. His eyes were blue-grey and they never seemed to miss anything. He dressed to be remembered. Dark furs hung from his shoulders, pinned with silver brooches. Gold arm rings against leather bracers, and his tunic was embroidered at the collar and cuffs. He smelled of smoke, iron, and the salt of the sea, as though he had only just stepped off a lo