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Sigrid’s life was in the balance. On one side were her defenders, the Hoffstad clan, a clan that had left Norway behind. On the other were the Bjork clan, a clan that had been her home for her entire life, led by a man who called her his daughter yet acted as though she was nothing more than dirt he wanted to wipe from his boot. They were poised for battle. Sigrid trembled. Her throat ran dry, and she looked at Erik for fear that she might have to leave this place and return home. Would Ragnar really risk the safety of his men for her and Erik?

“The prisoner you refer to is my son. His place is with me. As for your daughter, well, she has made it explicit that she does not wish to return to you. If I were you, I’d turn your ships around and head back to Norway. It seems you made this trip for nothing,” Ragnar said coolly. Sigrid was impressed by the way he remained composed. Her stomach was churning as wildly as the sea in a storm.

Ivar bared his teeth. “You have made your choice, Ragnar. This could have been dealt with easily, but you have just condemned your men to death.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he raised his sword and let out a huge battle cry, which soon became a chorus as his men joined in. They flooded forward, a dark shadow on the sand, while Ragnar yelled in reply and his men streamed down the slope. Sigrid felt the rush of air as they passed. The ground trembled under the heavy march of their boots, but inside, her heart was heavy. Then Erik grabbed her and pulled her away. The battle went one way while she went the other.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Getting you to safety,” he said. They walked away toward the trees when she pulled her arm away from him and looked at him with fury in her eyes.

“I want to fight! I don’t want to run,” she said.

“You want to fight in that?” Erik pointed toward the battle and had a look of disbelief on his face.

“Yes! I want to fight because if I don’t fight, then Ivar is going to take me.” Sigrid’s voice cracked on her fear.

“He’s more likely to take you if you do fight. He’ll try and steal you away and flee. That’s why we have to get away. We’re the ones he wants, and if he has a chance, he’s going to take us. I’m not going to let that happen.” His words were strong, and once again, Sigrid was filled with a warm feeling that was honeyed and sweet and went some way to fight against the despair that clung to her heart.

“I don’t want to go back, Erik. I can’t go back,” she said, her words coming out with choking breaths. Her lower lip began to tremble, and then her entire body began to shake. She wasn’t sure why; all she knew was that she had risked everything to get away from Ivar, and now that she was faced with the prospect of being taken away with him, she was chilled to the bone. Erik wrapped his arms around her, though, and suddenly everything seemed to be okay. He held her trembling body tightly and whispered that he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her, that he was going to protect her. It was the first time anyone had told her that, and she didn’t feel offended or that Erik meant she was incapable of protecting herself. No, it meant that he cared for her, and that meant the world to her.

They stayed away from the battlefield. Erik placed a hand on the small of her back to reassure her that he wasn’t going anywhere. From their vantage point, they could see the battle unfold. Ragnar had held his position at the top of the slope with Egon and a few other men. The rest had been sent down to meet Ivar’s force, and the Bjork clan were quickly realizing that although these Vikings had lived in the Highlands for many years now, they were no less fierce than their Norse brethren. Swords clashed, blood sprayed, and men fell. Soon enough, the beach was littered with wounded and dying men, and the balance favored Ragnar. Ivar’s men were pushed back toward their boats; they looked beleaguered. Sigrid wasn’t sure that Ivar had ever suffered such a humbling defeat before, and when Ivar eventually threw down his sword, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Although the battle was over, the mood in the air was still tense. They had gathered in a hut in the village to negotiate terms. Even though Ivar had been soundly beaten, there were still assurances that Ragnar wanted from him, and if he were killed outright, then the violence and raids would only persist. Sigrid was in attendance with Erik, Egon, and other men whom Ragnar trusted. Ivar was on the other side of the table, flanked with familiar faces. They looked at her with disgust and derision and smugness. Sigrid’s gaze darted at them and then was immediately torn away as she realized that they had nothing for her in their eyes. There was no sympathy, no emotion other than hatred. Gorm was there, sneering, and Sigrid wished that she could go ahead and slap that expression off his face. It was a shame that her brother was not one who had fallen in battle.

For a defeated man, Ivar still acted brash and confident. Sigrid wondered if it was an act or if he had some other plan in his mind.

“I can see that I underestimated the strength of your force. I shall not do so again, Ragnar, but I hope that the Hoffstad reputation for being agreeable is not unfounded. You have made a good life for yourself in these lands, far better than I ever did. I’m sure you wouldn’t want anything to threaten that way of life, would you?” Ivar said, wearing the false smile that had charmed lesser men than Ragnar.

Ragnar’s words were measured, and he did not let himself get seduced by Ivar’s tone. “There have already been threats to our way of life, and I’ve dealt with them all. I should hope that you would not be another. There are plenty of other lands to raid, none of them Viking. I think it’s time that you change your ways, Ivar; otherwise, there will be consequences. I cannot stand by while you hurt innocent people and prevent other clans from prospering.”

“I thought you might say something like that. I’m willing to concede that I could change my methods, but it will come at a price.”

“The price is that you get to walk away with your life,” Ragnar said.

Ivar didn’t even flinch. “I want what I came here for. Oh, don’t worry, you can keep your son. He was only ever a passing amusement for me. But I want my daughter back. I know how important your family is to you, Ragnar. Surely you can understand how important she is to me?”

Ragnar arched his eyebrow. “According to her, she does not consider herself to be your daughter at all.”

Ivar sighed and hung his head, wearing an expression of sorrow. “It is such a terrible thing for a parent to hear a child speak this way. Of course she is not truly my child, but she is in all the ways that matter. I raised her. I taught her to fight. I taught her to hunt. I gave her a home when her old one was destroyed. I fed her, clothed her, tended to her wounds. She is the person she is today because of me. To hear her speak so ill of me, why, it’s almost enough to break an old man’s heart. Please, Ragnar, I do not wish to lose her. She is a tempestuous child, yes, but she is my daughter nonetheless, and I consider her to be such even if she doesn’t.”

Sigrid’s mouth dropped open at Ivar’s words. The men who flanked him nodded in agreement, and she couldn’t believe that a lie could slip so easily between his lips. It was astounding to her that Ivar could actually speak like this. Where was talk of all the beatings? All the punishments? The humiliation? Anger trembled inside her, and it took all her willpower not to burst out with a diatribe of her own.

Ragnar sighed. “Even if this is true, Sigrid is old enough to make her own decisions. And if she wishes to stay here, I cannot go against her wishes.”

“But there are other things to consider. Take the fact that she is betrothed to Haldor Knutsen, for example. She is ready to be married, and such agreements cannot be broken lightly,” Ivar said. At this, Haldor stepped forward. He was an old man who had most of his teeth knocked out in battle. He bowed in a stately manner, and Sigrid shuddered at the thought of being married to such a man.

“You never told me about this,” Erik whispered to her, leaning down so that he could keep his voice as low as possible.

Sigrid scowled. “I never knew about it.”

“So you see, Ragnar,” Ivar continued, “there are other forces at work here, and she has not been entirely honest with you. I’m sure you’re grateful to her for bringing back your son, and that is something to be commended, but she has fled home, and now it is time for me to take her back where she belongs. It’s time for her to come home.”

As soon as he uttered that word, Sigrid lost control. She strode up to the table and slammed her palm down so hard that stinging pain reverberated through her.

“Lies! That is not my home. You are not my father. And if you think I am going to marry that man, then you have gone insane. You speak well, Ivar, but you left out the punishments you’ve given me over the years, the way you’ve starved me and hit me and treated me like I am some disobedient dog. You were the one who took my home from me—my parents—and I will never go back with you. I would rather die,” she spat, the words pouring forth from her mouth on a tidal wave of anger. While she was fuming and breathing heavily, the rest of the tent was in hushed silence. Gorm stepped forward with a look of anger on his face, but Ivar raised his hand to stop him.

“Go and bring in our…guest,” Ivar said.

Gorm snickered and left the tent. Sigrid glared at Ivar, wondering what trick he had planned now. She was determined not to give him any kind of satisfaction, but when she saw Astrid being brought in, her face fell. Astrid looked so small compared to all the warriors. On her face was an expression of worry, and she didn’t look relieved to see Sigrid at all.

“What is she doing here?” Sigrid asked, staggering back from the table.

“What do you think she’s doing here? Astrid wanted to come and see you, of course. She’s always been concerned with your well-being. You two have always had such a special bond,” Ivar said, stroking Astrid’s head. “She has always been a special child, hasn’t she, Sigrid? And I know that you’ve wanted her to have a good life. She has a kind heart, and that’s rare in this world. But the thing is she needs you, see, and if you won’t come back for me, then at least come back for her.”

“No, I… I…” Sigrid stammered, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe that he would stoop so low as to do this.

“It’s such a shame as well, Sigrid. You see, if you don’t come back, then I’m going to have to punish somebody, so why not Astrid? I know you don’t see me as your father, but you have always seen Astrid as your sister. Would you really see her die just so you can stay here? Come back with me, and things will be as they were,” he said.

“This is madness, Ivar,” Ragnar said, but Sigrid barely heard his words as she was already falling prey to her emotions. Anger and sorrow and frustration all boiled over, and she screamed at Ivar, yelling at him that he was a monster. All she wanted to do was attack him and end it there and then, but while he laughed and she screamed, she felt Erik pulling her back.

“There is another way,” Erik said, his words cutting through the chaos and summoning all the attention toward him. “I will marry Sigrid, and I will pay a handsome dowry for the privilege too. Let us end this madness and strike an agreement, Ivar. Give me Sigrid’s hand, and then leave this place. Let us put an end to this.”