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The rage had been building up inside Egon since he had been captured. He knew he had come close to death, but the gods had spared him, and he wasn’t going to waste this chance. The sight of his brother—and especially Caoimhe—had invigorated him. Even though his hands were bound, he still used the bulk of his body to slam against his guards and move through the field of enemies, trying to get his hands on a weapon. He roared as he fought against his bindings like a trapped animal, and he was intoxicated by the scent of battle that lingered upon the air. His eyes gleamed as he relished the thought of fighting, ready to release this wrath that had built up inside him.

He roared in triumph as he saw Miles using the lessons he had taught him to slay the enemies and when he saw Erik looking more and more like their father.

Then there was a scream.

Egon turned, and through the chaos of battle, he saw Caoimhe reaching for her father. Egon saw Sven coming up behind Cameron with his sword brandished. Egon clenched his jaw. He had promised that he would help Caoimhe reunite with her father, and he wasn’t going to betray that promise now. He lunged forward, sprinting as fast as he could, and then sprung on his heels, pushing Cameron out of the way. Sven was in the midst of striking him though, and there was no stopping the blade, especially since Egon’s hands were still tied. He winced as he felt the tip pierce his gut. It sank through his flesh, and warm blood spilled out as he crashed to the floor.

Sven pulled his sword back and Egon looked up at him, wondering if this was the moment when he was going to die. In the back of his mind, he could hear the thunderous call of Valhalla as the warriors of the past waited to greet him. He started to laugh, which enraged Sven, who lifted his sword above his head, ready to plunge it deep into Egon’s heart. But then there was a flicker of movement, and another sword was thrust forward into Sven’s chest. He stopped for a moment and looked down in shock, as though his body had to catch up with the reality of the situation. His hands lost their strength, and his sword dropped to the floor as blood bloomed over his chest in a crimson stain and started to trickle out of his mouth. He toppled over and slumped helplessly to the floor, twitching for a few moments before he was entirely still.

Egon groaned in pain. A shadow fell across his face, but he quickly saw that it was Caoimhe. Beautiful, sweet Caoimhe. He smiled and tried to lift an arm to caress her cheek, but he lacked the strength. If he was dying, then perhaps it was time to tell her the truth. Perhaps it was time to finally be honest with himself. But when he parted his lips, he found it impossible to get the words out.

“Oh, Egon,” Caoimhe said in a strained voice. She let go of a sword and ripped some fabric away from her clothes, pressing it against his wound. “Ye will be alright, Egon. Ye will be alright,” she said in desperation more than anything else. “Please, ye hae tae be alright. Oh, I’m sae sorry for everything I’ve done. I should hae believed ye. I should hae trusted ye. Above all else, ye were willing tae give yer life for my da. Egon…ye are my hero. Please keep fighting! Ye hae tae stay alive!” She was stricken with panic.

There were so many things Egon wanted to tell her, but the only thing that left his mouth was wheezing breaths. Then she kissed him. Sweet warmth spread across his lips as the strands of her auburn hair tickled his face. His eyes closed as he used what little strength he had to kiss her back.

The song of Valhalla became even more glorious.

Egon’s eyes closed, although his chest still rose and fell, which was as much of a good sign as she could have. Caoimhe slumped back and looked across at Sven’s fallen body. The sword she had found beside her stuck out of Sven’s chest much like the stick from the snake in her dream, and finally, it made sense. Deep down, she had always known the truth, but she hadn’t been aware of it until it was too late. She looked up to see her father standing over her.

“Da, we hae tae help him,” she said with tears in her eyes. She continued to try and stem the flow of blood as her tears fell upon her hands. One kiss wasn’t enough. One apology wasn’t enough. There were so many more things that she wanted to tell him. He couldn’t die now, he just couldn’t!

The battle was soon over after this. Erik’s force overwhelmed Arne Hagen’s army. Most of them were dead. The ones that were left alive were bound and imprisoned, which included Arne Hagen. He was taken away too.

Caoimhe did not leave Egon’s side as he was carried away and placed in a small room in the castle where healers attended to him. Food was brought to Caoimhe, and Cameron came to her to tell her that Egon’s father, Ragnar, had appeared. Apparently, while Erik had been attacking this castle, Ragnar had taken another force to free other prisoners who had been held elsewhere to stop the threat of Arne Hagen once and for all. Caoimhe sniffed and nodded, although in truth, she didn’t much care for any of that while Egon was in this state.

“Ye care for him a lot,” Cameron said.

Caoimhe nodded. “At first I hated him,” she said, laughing a little. “But now…”

Cameron placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Before Caoimhe forgot, she rummaged through her clothes and pulled out the ring. “Egon found this in the village. I suppose Sven must hae dropped it by accident. I didnae think tae question it,” she said, handing it over to her father. Cameron took it and inspected it carefully before he placed it on Egon’s chest.

“I think he’s deserving of it,” Cameron said, and then waited with his daughter.

Hours passed, and Egon’s condition did not improve. Caoimhe was left alone with him. She had been weeping so much that she wasn’t sure she had any tears left. Egon’s father had come in to pray for his son. He was an impressive man, and Caoimhe saw how much Egon resembled his father. She listened to the prayers of the gods, and when she was alone, she repeated them, thinking that since Egon believed in the Norse gods, it might help if she prayed to them. She gazed at the hammer on his chest as she prayed, and within moments, a great storm erupted. Rain crashed down, thunder rolled, and lightning slashed through the sky. She looked out the window and was in awe of the power of nature, but she also wondered if this was the way the god of thunder would speak to his fallen champion.