“Forgive me, systir. It was the only way to save them.”
“Forgive you?” I cry. “I will torture you for the rest of your days, and it still won’t be enough!”
With a raucous roar, I am about to take off Sigrith’s head, before she twists and seizes onto the end of the chain and forces me to look over the wall. And what I see…is surely a miracle.
“It cannot be,” I gasp, trembling hand over my mouth.
“We are one,” she says in Norse. She is once again the woman I once knew and loved, but I soon realize that she never left because Sune and Loki are not dead.
On the contrary.
They are in the arms of my Viking, my Ulf.
He holds my boys with nothing but protection, and when we meet eyes, he nods. He was always coming back for me. Just like he always has.
Which means…the mole is Sigrith.
She was on our side all along and simply biding her time for today. She knew we couldn’t win without an army, and now, we have an army because beside Ulf is Aeden and his Irishmen.
“He had to believe. I am sorry for all that I did. But?—”
“Shh.” I hush her, throwing my arms around her. “You outsmarted us all. I’m sorry for ever doubting you.”
She hugs me back, nothing but love surrounding us.
“The children were always in your care when I believed you wanted to hurt them?”
She nods. “They are my nephews. I never harmed them. I only alluded to Aethelbald that I would.”
“Thank you.” I choke back my tears.
“Do not thank me just yet because your children are in the care of Ulf.”
I cannot contain my laughter.
It feels good to laugh once again.
“He must be made an example of,” I say, meaning Aethelbald. “And his army is larger than ours. We cannot win today. Soon, he will have soldiers from Wessex and Mercia at his disposal. The monarchy is a mess. England’s rulership is pure pandemonium.”
She nods. “You are right, but we can give him a message, and that message is…he’s a dead man walking.”
The cries of men mar the blackened sky. It’s a melody of soldiers and brothers. I do not want any more innocent blood spilled.
“Let’s give him that message then, shall we?”
Sigrith nods.
She picks up a fallen sword, and we commence fighting side by side, just as we have done countless times before. We are an unstoppable force. When she ducks left, I weave right. We’ve got one another’s backs—literally.
Soldiers swarm the monastery, and carnage soon follows.
Just as I knew he would, Skarth annihilates anyone who stands in his way. Even with his hands bound, he is still a force no man can match. Watching Skarth fight is something of utter beauty. There is an elegance in the way he moves. There is an art form to his kills. I suppose this is the spirit of a true warrior.
Watching him dominate every man who stands in his way stokes the fire within, and I follow suit, tearing down anyone who stands in my way. My heart breaks when I see fallen brothers dead or writhing in pain. This violence was brought onto their doorstep because of me.
I promise to make this right.
Both Skarth and I make a beeline for Aethelbald, who fights off his brothers, and I am surprised to see a few of his own army turning on him. These men were once my soldiers but served Aethelbald as they believed him to be the stronger leader. However, now they fight against him.
