“That’s complicated. The Welsh are a lot like us. Rather than jarls, they have princes. Each prince has a portion of the larger area known as Wales. The princes are all related one way or another, so it just depends on their family history whether they’ll come to Dafydd’s aide or will look at it as a chance to kill him in his sleep.” Gressa shrugged. “I can think of at least three that’ll come to Dafydd’s side if he calls. With those three allies, Dafydd would have at least six hundred warriors.”
Everyone took in the final piece of information, knowing their numbers paled compared to what this Welsh prince could rally. Both Ivar’s and Rangvald’s tribes had lost too many lives in the ongoing war with Grímr to bring that many warriors with them. Lorna stepped forward.
“My clan will fight again,” Lorna rested her hand on Rangvald’s arm. “You know Alex will come to our aid. If the Mackays fight, the other clans will come, too. The MacLeods, Sutherlands, and Mackenzies lost men to Grímr, the Rosses, and the Munros. They will want their chance to end Grímr’s alliances for stirring up trouble where there has been none in yonks.”
Rangvald looked at his wife. Even thirty years after he brought her to live among the Norse, her Highland beauty outshone every other woman. Most people would argue Lorna was more beautiful than any woman in Scotland or the Trondelag, but she seemed unaware and disinterested in her appearance. Instead, she was as finely trained a warrior as any shield maiden, and despite bearing six children, she was still as strong as any woman half her age.
“Blood thirsty as ever,” Rangvald grinned at Lorna.
“You always say that,” Lorna harrumphed. “As though I’m the only one.”
“If you believe Alex and the others will ride with us, then we set sail for Scotland first then on to Wales.” Rangvald looked over Lorna’s head to Ivar who nodded.
“This time, I sail with you. There is no great threat here as long as Grímr is so far away.” Ivar’s usually stern face broke into a wide smile. “This fight ends now, and I will not miss it by waiting like an old man before the fire. I still have a few more battles in me. Besides, we cannot leave Rangvald to think he’s the greatest warrior in the land. He needs reminding I still best him every time.”
The crowd scattered as people hurried to complete their duties to prepare for sailing in the morning. Tyra and Bjorn went to the docks to begin their inspection of the fleets. Tyra’s innate ability to sail as though she was born to the waves had earned her a position as the captain of Ivar’s entire fleet. Her skills were so well known that she led the entire mission while they were at sea last time. Bjorn refused to sail his own ship now that he was married. Instead he handed his longboat over to his first mate and gladly took a demotion to his wife’s first mate. Tyra and Freya had the unusual luxury of a cabin on each of their boats because Ivar insisted that his daughter and her best friend have privacy. Bjorn intended to make use of the privacy every night, and Tyra did not complain when she could give her husband orders. Freya and Erik still maintained their own ships, but Erik usually slipped onto the Freya’s boat each night.
Strian and Gressa finished talking to Strian’s crew and were on their way back to their longhouse when they heard Leif and Sigrid arguing.
“I am going on this mission. I will be useful. And you are not convincing me otherwise,” Sigrid’s voice rose with each declaration.
“And I’m not taking my very pregnant wife into battle with me!” Leif’s booming voice seemed to echo throughout the settlement.
“Fine. Figure it out on your own. But it won’t be me they blame.” Sigrid stood with her arms crossed over her belly as she tapped her foot.
“Oh no, you don’t. You are not using your gift as leverage. I’m not watching them murder my wife and child all because you don’t want to miss this saga’s ending!”
“And I’m telling you, we will be fine.”
“I’d ask how you know, but that would be a waste of time. However, we also know that fate can change. It takes only one person defying the gods, and everything you’ve seen could be for naught. I won’t risk that, Sigrid. I’ll stay behind if that’s what it takes.”
By the time Leif finished, there was real anguish in his voice. Sigrid took pity on him and stepped into his embrace. Strian and Gressa felt like intruders watching the couple, but they could not get to their home without passing them.
“Leif, you have to trust me on this. I have to be there. It’s all part of the prophecy. We all have to be there.”
Strian felt for Leif, understanding his friend’s plight. He had not voiced it aloud, but he wished Gressa would stay behind, too. The last time they sailed on a mission together, he had lost her for ten years. It terrified him the same might happen again.
“She would have told me if I shouldn’t go,” Gressa whispered to Strian. She saw the sympathy in Strian’s eyes as he watched Leif, and she knew what worried him. “We didn’t know Sigrid then. There was no way for her to warn us if she had seen the battle. If she says she needs to go, then we have to support her.”
Strian shook his head before looking down at Gressa.
“Then you understand how I feel about you going. I can’t talk Leif out of his fear any more than I can myself, but you know we’ll both give in to you and Sigrid.”
Gressa pulled apart Strian’s crossed arms and wrapped them around her. She rested her ear against his heart and listened to the steady rhythm. Strian stroked her hair as they stood embracing, no longer aware of the other couple or the people passing by.
“I can’t lose you again.” The words sounded as though something had ripped them from the very bottom of Strian’s soul, his voice hoarse.
“I won’t leave your side. No matter what.”
Strian swallowed his argument, wanting to say she had promised the same thing the last time. Instead he leaned his cheek against her crown and nodded. They watched as Leif and Sigrid seemed to come to some understanding themselves, and the other couple walked arm in arm to the jarl’s longhouse.
“I don’t want to go to the jarl’s house for the evening meal. Can’t we just go home?” Gressa sounded as though she was thinking aloud rather than talking to Strian, but he was in agreement.
“We can eat and bathe in our own home. We will be around everyone else more than enough in the coming weeks. I crave one more night alone with my wife.”
Twenty-Two
Gressa and Strian made the most of their final night alone. After a leisurely bath that involved more making love than it did cleaning, they fed one another before the fire until need once more consumed them. They joined throughout the night until exhaustion forced them to sleep to prepare for the long journey.
