In which Ylva Sigefridsdottir, also known as Ylva the Dread, had been an earl since she was a young girl, despite having two brothers, following the death of her mad father and power-hungry stepmother.
Hearing of the girl's feared reputation and...
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Nearly had ten months passed they returned from Paris. Since then, Ylva had given birth to a son and Gyda was now more than two years old. She had spent the last term of her pregnancy and the first few months of her son's life in Kattegat until she finally decided to return home.
As she rode into Ashton with her men, her people cheered loudly, delighted by the return of their beloved earl and fighting men.
Climbing off her horse, Ylva entered the Great Hall holding the hand of Gyda while a servant was carrying her son. Sihtric and Freya walked in alongside her, followed by numerous men carrying dozens of chests filled with gold.
Ylva picked up a gold headband, smiling as she placed it on Gyda's head, which caused the young girl to smile.
"Good people of Ashton," Ylva announced loudly as she placed her daughter back down on the ground to address, "See what I have brought back from Paris."
The men cheered loudly, ringing bells as Ylva smiled. "But that is not all I've brought with me. While I was away, I gave birth to a son," She continued as she turned to face the servant, who walked over and placed her son in her arms, "May I present to you my son and heir, Rorik Bjornsson, named after his grandfather. The last great Earl of Ashton."
Hearing the news, the men and women continued to cheer loudly while Ylva's smile faded. "While I know that in the past, whenever an Earl died, his heirs took part in a battle for the succession and the last survivor would be named Earl, but I would like for that to change. The Battle of the Succession will no longer occur within Ashton. It will simply go to the firstborn male."
Hearing Ylva's words, Freya looked up at the woman, a curious look on her face since she had never heard of the Battle of the Succession before. What was it?
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That evening, Ylva and Freya traveled to the woods to stay overnight and spend some time together alone. They ended up fishing for food and once they caught their evening meal, they found themselves sitting by the fire.
Freya sat in front of Ylva, smiling as her adoptive mother braided her hair. "What was the Battle of the Succession you talked about today to the people?" She asked Ylva, whose smiled faded, "Please tell me, Ylva, I would like to know."
Ylva sighed in defeat and nodded, deciding to tell Freya the truth, despite feeling uneasy. "About two hundred years ago, the first Earl of Ashton from our bloodline came to be. As he laid dying, he already had fathered eight sons. Each of them had individual qualities that would make them a great Earl if he were to die. One was brave, one was wise, one was clever, and so on. He knew he couldn't just pick his eldest to be his successor. Not when the others had just as much potential. So as he laid dying in bed, he created a solution. He made up the Battle of Succession. When an Earl died or laid on his deathbed, his heirs, daughter and sons alike, would battle against each other for the Earldom and whoever was left standing in the end would become the new Earl of Ashton since it meant the gods favored them above the rest while the others would be dead and never threaten his or her claim to the Earldom."
