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Caoimhe had been roused from her slumber by Sven’s return. Cold beads of sweat prickled her brow as she awoke. The image of the snakes was still strong in her mind, and fear laced her heart. She still had no idea what it meant or what the snakes represented, but it was so vivid she could almost swear that they had really been in front of her. She could still hear the sickening squelch as the stick had been driven into the snake’s body, and she shuddered when she awoke.

“You look beautiful when you sleep,” Sven said, stroking her cheek and brushing a few errant strands of auburn hair away from her face.

Caoimhe forced a smile. “I dinnae feel beautiful. Nae after what happened. It’s terrible, Sven, just terrible. I cannae believe that Vikings are able tae gae around attacking our villages like this.”

“I know.” Sven furrowed his brow and shook his head. “It makes you wonder what Egon’s people are thinking. I’m glad that you remembered the truth about him. I hope now you’ll trust me when I say that we shouldn’t have him anywhere near us. If I see him again, I’ll kill him.”

Caoimhe was stunned by the harsh edge of his words. “Dinnae speak rashly, Sven. I…I might hae been mistaken. All the things of that night are still sae troubling and hard tae remember. I think the fear just got the best of me.”

“Don’t say that, Caoimhe. You shouldn’t doubt yourself. Your mind is clearly trying to tell you something. You said yourself that you had a bad feeling about Egon from the very first time he came into the village. I think it’s time to listen to that. But it’s also time for us to be going.”

“Gaeing? Where tae?” she asked.

“To my friend Arne Hagen. Things are getting dangerous, and I do not trust the roads, especially now that Egon knows we are on to him. I’m worried that he’s going to lie in wait and attack us. We need a stronger force to help protect us. Arne Hagen has a formidable castle. We will be safe there, and I know we can count on his aid to help find your father.”

Caoimhe nodded and rose from the bed. She wasn’t sure what to make of Egon. She remembered how he had helped the villager rebuild his house, and she couldn’t imagine anyone going to those lengths after they had been the ones to destroy it. Rushing into battle had been a noble thing as well, though she wasn’t sure that Sven was right in thinking it was a trap. However, her spirits were buoyed by the prospect of making progress in the search for her father. Sven had mentioned Arne Hagen a number of times. He seemed to be a man of influence, and she hoped to finally put this matter to rest. If she found her father, then he might be able to tell her whether or not Egon had been there the night the village had been attacked.

They left abruptly and rode swiftly through the land, passing by a stream and through a forest, winding through a rocky valley, eventually coming to a hidden part of the Highlands and a castle that had been etched into the rocky mountains. The sea was misty and grey, and this place seemed cold. Caoimhe was filled with misgivings as they approached, but Sven seemed comfortable enough, so she told herself that she was being foolish.

They guided their horses to the entrance of the castle and tied them to poles. The doors were wooden and heavy. Foreboding shadowed windows stared at her, and the cold stone that greeted her was not hospitable at all. That feeling did not change as they walked through the tall doors and entered the somber halls of the castle. There were hallways that stretched into darkness, akin to the lair of a spider. A chill crept through the air and wrapped around Caoimhe like the caress of ghostly fingers. Sven led her down a long hallway that opened up into a larger chamber. Their footsteps echoed around. She was struck by the absence of ambient noise. Where were all the people?

They entered the chamber, and she wilted when she saw Vikings sitting around tables in clusters. They weren’t as rambunctious as she was used to Vikings being. They picked meat from spindly bones and drank heavily. Few of them bothered to turn their heads toward Caoimhe as she and Sven entered, but she stuck close to him as she felt worried. She tried to tell herself that not all Vikings were the same, and she shouldn’t assume all of them intended to do her harm, but this place was drenched with dread.

“Ah, Sven, it’s good to see your return,” the man who she assumed was Arne Hagen declared as he rose from his throne and approached them. He wore leather armor. His hair was grey, and his face was lined with creases. He came up to them and took her hand in his, leaning down to place his lips in a soft kiss. The thing she noticed most of all was how cold his touch was, as cold as the stone from which this castle was hewn. She shuddered as she took her hands away.

“And you must be Caoimhe. I’ve heard of your beauty, but I see that they have not been able to properly capture the true glory of you. Sven, you are a lucky man. Please, come, sit down and feast at my table. I am always happy to pay homage to my guests. Eat freely and drink as much as you like. Never let it be said that Arne Hagen doesn’t give his guests the best treatment.”

As he said this, he snapped his fingers and led them to a table. A servant came and placed two plates of food before them, as well as two mugs of ale. Caoimhe took one sniff of it and recoiled. The meat was stringy too, but she tried not to be rude. After all, this was the man who was going to help find her father.

Sven sank into the chair with all the comfort of a man who was used to this place. Caoimhe was puzzled, though. Sven had spoken of Arne Hagen as a prestigious man who was wealthy and successful, but those were not the words she would associate with this place. There were no portraits hinting at family history on the walls, nor were there emblems and trophies of success. The place had a barren feeling to it, almost as though it had been stolen.

Caoimhe nibbled on some meat and spoke directly to Arne Hagen. “What dae ye know of the Viking raids?” she asked.

Arne laughed and placed his hands on his belly. His whole body shook, and he wiped a tear from his eye.

“Oh, you aren’t shy with your words, are you? Well, I like a spirited woman, and Sven does as well. I’m sure you’re going to make married life interesting.” He winked, and Caoimhe felt a shiver run down her spine. “But to answer your question, yes, I am well informed and have a plan to stop the raids.”

“And ye will help me find my da?” The words rushed out of Caoimhe’s mouth.

Arne laughed again, seemingly amused by her exuberance. “Of course, my dear, of course. The thought of a daughter being separated from her father is dreadful, and I will happily do my part in reuniting you. I hope it will go a long way to helping form relations between my people and yours as well. I have lived here for a long time and yet I have never felt truly at home here, for the Highlanders continue to view me with suspicion. I suppose that’s no fault of their own, though. I can’t blame them for feeling this way when they’re subjected to raids from Vikings who are far less honorable than I.”

His voice was lilting in much the same manner as Sven’s. They had a way about them that was charming. Words came easily to them and the rhythm of their voices was lulling, which was so unlike Egon, who was blunt and brash.

Why was she thinking about Egon?

“What is the way? I would hope that we can move soon, for I fear my da is in great danger.”

“All in good time, my dear, all in good time. I’m sure you have had a long journey, and you need time to rest. We will find your father, I’m sure of that. Now—”

Arne Hagen was interrupted by a burst of thunder as the door crashed open. All eyes turned to the entrance of the chamber, and Caoimhe was shocked to see Egon standing there, his sword drenched in blood and fury etched upon his face. He scanned the room and then pointed his sword toward Sven.

“Come here and fight me like a warrior,” he growled.