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Erik had been incensed at Elof’s betrayal. He knew why the man had done it, of course, but it was clear that his clan would never truly be safe until Ivar was dealt with, and the only way of doing that was by taking a risk and trusting two strangers. It had surprised him how much he had been affected by Sigrid’s reaction, though; the way she so readily assumed that he had betrayed her stung. He thought they had formed some kind of connection now that had dispelled the suspicion from before. Sigrid seemed like the kind of woman who did not trust anyone. It was strange to him, as he came from such a loving, tight family. But growing up under the care of Ivar—and he used the term care loosely—must have been a far different experience.

Something she said had filled him with guilt and shame. When she said that if his family had stayed in Norway, he would know more about the situation between the clans, it had struck his heart. She was right, and he wondered if his family had a responsibility for the well-being of the other Viking clans. They had left for the Highlands but left behind a vacuum of power that Ivar had filled. If Ragnar and Erik had never left, then perhaps they would have been able to put a check on Ivar’s rise to power, and none of this would ever have happened.

But before he could deal with any of that, Erik had to get him and Sigrid out of there. He was certain that Elof was going to alert Ivar to their presence, and he doubted that Ivar would give them another chance to escape.

Before they left, Erik took the final piece of the guard’s outfit—a helmet that covered his features. He took Sigrid by the arm and pulled her out of the room, trying to focus on the task at hand and not the sensations that had filled his mind when he had been standing behind Sigrid, binding her hands together. He was so close that he had seen streaks of white in her golden hair. Her head reached his neck, and it would have been so easy to take her into his arms. He had been struck by the way strands of her hair brushed against her slender neck, how the supple skin entranced him, and the way her light scent played havoc with his senses. He had almost fumbled the knot, for he had been so confused. She was such a difficult woman to be with, and yet there was a part of him that wondered how he had lived so much of his life without ever knowing she existed.

But he could think about all that later. He had no doubt that Elof had already sent a messenger to Ivar, so they had to leave immediately.

“Stay quiet and don’t speak to anyone. Pretend that you’re afraid. We don’t want to get anyone’s attention. You’re just a prisoner, and I’m just a guard. We’ll get to the beach and find a way to escape this place,” Erik said.

Sigrid nodded and made a show of hanging her head and shuffling her feet along meekly.

Erik walked briskly away from the village toward the beach. He walked quick enough to flee but not so quick as to draw suspicion. At least so he thought. Just as they reached the boundary of the village and were about to follow the road down to the beach, another guard halted them. Erik swallowed his nerves and was just grateful that the helmet was doing its job, as the guard didn’t seize them immediately.

“Where are you going?” the Viking asked in a harsh accent. Erik knew that if he spoke too much, his accent would have given him away. Growing up in the Highlands had left him with an inflection of his accent. In the Highlands, it wasn’t noticeable, and, in fact, the native Highlanders always teased him about the fact that he sounded as though he was from somewhere else, but out here in Norway, it was obvious he was from the Highlands, and anything more than a few words would have given him away.

“Elof,” he said gruffly, and nodded toward the shore. The guard was about to say something else, but at that point, Sigrid started to hit Erik. It took him by surprise, and he had to shake her arm to stop. “Stop it!” he yelled, and then shot a look at the guard, shaking his head. The guard seemed amused and understood the difficulty of dragging a prisoner along, so he let Erik and Sigrid pass.

“You didn’t have to hit me so hard,” Erik said under his breath when they were out of earshot.

“I had to make it convincing,” she said, although he wasn’t sure he entirely believed her.

Erik increased his pace, as he didn’t want another encounter like that; there were only so many times that he could ride his luck. But soon enough, the sea rose into view, as did the sandy shore that framed it. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw all the boats that were sitting there and could sense that freedom was theirs to take. However, just as they were about to step onto the beach, another guard cried out to them.

“Halt!”

Erik cringed but forced a smile as he turned to face this other guard.

“Where are you going? I wasn’t aware any prisoners were going to be taken to the shore today,” the guard said.

“Elof,” Erik said, hoping again that it would be enough.

“What about Elof? He didn’t tell me anything.”

“Elof,” Erik said in another tone of voice, shrugging, as though this was something that Elof always did.

The guard wasn’t convinced, though. He peered closer at Erik. “Who are you? Take off your helmet. I don’t think I recognize you,” he said.

As soon as Erik realized he was becoming suspicious, Erik slammed his fist into the guard’s gut. The guard doubled over, and Erik punched him again in the throat, leaving him sprawled on the ground.

“Come on,” Erik said harshly, taking her hand as he ran away back through the woods toward the beach. They ran away from the main area of the beach back to where they had landed initially, for Erik didn’t want to risk encountering any other Vikings, and he didn’t think it would be long before the alarm was raised. They kicked up sand as they sprinted to their boat, which rested against the shore. Sigrid shook the loose ropes away from her wrists and ran alongside him. He was impressed by how she was able to keep up with him. They pushed the boat out to sea and then jumped in, taking the oars and rowing fiercely to propel themselves away from the shore. The salty water embraced them and carried them away.

“I never knew this was what marriage was about,” Erik said with a smile.

“Perhaps having a husband isn’t such a bad thing after all,” Sigrid said.

They rowed in tandem. Erik glanced back at the shore, worried that they were going to be hunted, but apparently his punch had been strong enough to allow them some time before the guard could raise the alarm. As they sailed away from the coast, they saw a bigger ship coming along, surging across the water. It was far enough away that they would have just been a speck, but the bigger ship was impossible to miss. It was Ivar’s, and they both breathed a sigh of relief that they had escaped when they did.

“It seems as though we’re one step ahead of Ivar again,” Erik said.

“Yes, but is one step going to be enough?” Sigrid asked. Erik didn’t have an answer for her. They focused on rowing for a while, as they wanted to put as much distance between themselves and the shore as possible. Ivar would surely scour the sea for them, but if they were out of view, then there would be no trace of them, and Ivar would be left grasping at air.