I narrow my eyes. I knew this was what Aethelbald wanted, but I never thought I’d have to accept. But we’ve tried and failed to overthrow him. We are defeated because when my children’s lives are at risk, I will sacrifice all.
A small part of me hoped Aethelbald was bluffing, but he is not.
So with no other choice, I nod. “What else do you want?”
“I wish for England to be restored to her rightful religion. If the Danes wish to stay here, they must convert to our Lord. If not, they will be culled. There is only one God. If they do not want to follow the righteous path, then let them suffer the consequences.”
“You force my people to convert to your religion,” Skarth spits. “How is that choosing their own faith when you force-feed them with no choice? Your God you speak of is supposed to be all loving and accepting, but the problem is His men.
“You are the ones who incite a holy war we do not want! We wish to live in peace. But you are the ones who force our hand. My kind will not bow down to your false God.”
Aethelbald chuckles. “They already have.”
His words confirm just how dire our circumstances are when Danes appear, dressed in Saxon armor. They fight for Aethelbald, and when the leader emerges, everything makes sense.
Skarth shakes his head. “No, it cannot be.”
“Hello, Brother.”
Standing before us is Sigrith, Skarth’s sister and my once friend.
I don’t understand any of this. But it makes sense. For Aethelbald to get to the position he’s in, he needs an ally on the inside—someone who understands both Saxon and Dane. And who better than Skarth’s sister?
I wondered where she was, in hopes she would save us.
How wrong I was.
“How could you? You dishonor the gods! You dishonor me! He holds your nephews captive for his own personal gain, yet you fight for him? You turn your back on your people? Your gods? You are exactly like your mother.
“I will fucking kill you!”
Skarth storms forward, but a soldier punches him in the stomach. He isn’t incapacitated, and when within feet of Sigrith, she withdraws her sword and places it to the hollow of Skarth’s throat.
“You’ve always led with your heart, and where did that get you? Fighting a defeated war, that’s where. Evolution is the key to survival. We tried it your way, and our people are dying. We cannot win.”
A guard places a metal collar around Skarth’s neck and drags him toward a post, which he ties him to.
Suddenly, it’s like the ghosts of our enemies emerge when Bodil and Inga stand beside Sigrith. The most powerful warriors are in cahoots with Aethelbald. This is why he always had the upper hand. Aethelbald thinks like a Viking because he is in line with the most brutal Vikings England has bred.
“You always had eyes on us?”
Aethelbald grins. “It was fun to see you try so hard when I knew it was all in vain. Your most trusted allies are now mine. How the betrayal must sting. False hope that you could actually win. What better way to show your enemies that they will never win?”
And he is right.
The three women in Saxon armor are evidence we failed, and if not for my children, death would be a mercy. But I cannot give up until they are safe.
“You will do what I say because if you do not, then everyone you love will pay the price.”
On cue, Lord Louis, Aric, Catherine, Alruna, Benedict, and my most faithful men are led into the square bound by rope together. They’re bleeding and dirty, and their eyes reflect how we feel that defeat is a dirty word. But Aethelbald has rounded up every ally we have.
So it appears Benedict was on my side after all.
All hope is gone.
But suddenly, a small shred of faith is restored.
Ulf.
