Page 35

21

Erik and Sigrid were far from the battle. It was all over. Sigrid had been saved, but at what cost?

They were sitting near the woods. Erik had his head in his hands. His heart was hollow. Sigrid stood beside him, pacing back and forth. Egon had taken Astrid back to the village, while the other Vikings of the Hoffstad clan were tending to those who were wounded on the battlefield. In the distance, she could see the ship sailing away. Ivar had once again survived another battle to curse the world once more.

“How…how did this happen? I should have been there to save him. I should have warned him. I…” Erik said, sounding hopeless.

“You couldn’t have done anything to change things. Just like I could not have done anything to save my father,” Sigrid said.

She knew well what Erik was going through, and yet she could not think of the right thing to say. The man who had killed her father was dead. She had always assumed that on this day, she would be happy or feel as though the scales of justice had been balanced. However, when she looked at Erik, she realized the truth of what Yrsa had been trying to tell her. Violence would only ever beget sorrow. The death of Ragnar did not bring her father back; it only made another soul unhappy.

“Take my sword, Sigrid,” he said as he thrust the sword into her hands. “Take my sword and stab. Kill me and take revenge for your father,” he said, tears in his eyes.

Her fingers slipped around the hilt. For the first time, she was holding a real sword, something she had always dreamed of, but she never thought it would have been under these circumstances. The weight felt natural in her hands, but almost as soon as she took hold of it, she dropped it again. It landed with a dull thud.

Sigrid shook her head. “There is no need for me to take your life. The man who killed my father is dead, but it has not changed anything. I see that now. I have wasted my life on thoughts of revenge. I…do not believe it’s what my father would have wanted. We have both had enough sorrow in our lives. I think it is time for us to stop looking at the past and face the future.”

Erik dried the tears from his eyes and took her hands. “A future together, Sigrid? That’s what I want. That’s what I was trying to tell you at the loch. I want us to be together, to be married. You are…you are…” He struggled to find the words; instead, he gave up and kissed her. Sigrid tasted the warmth of his lips and the salt of his tears, and she let herself melt into him. The light of his love burned away the darkness in her heart.

But she wasn’t quite free of everything.

There was a rustling of leaves behind them. As they turned, they gasped and saw Ivar emerging. He was covered in blood, having been beaten in the battle, but his eyes were alive with rage.

“You have caused me no end of problems. I am not leaving until I kill you both!” he said, spit flying from his mouth. His eye twitched, and he dragged one foot behind him. “I’m going to kill you and then I’m going to get passage back home, but then I’ll be back. I’m going to destroy everything here. Everything you’ve built will turn to ash!” he cried, and raised his sword. Despite his haggard state, his sword was still sharp, and Erik was unarmed. At least that’s what Sigrid had thought. But while she bent down to pick up his sword, Erik unsheathed another weapon. It was her wooden sword!

The blunt weapon held firm against the blow of the steel sword. Ivar laughed.

“You dare fight me with a child’s weapon?” he cried.

“It’s not the weapon that’s deadly, but the one who wields it,” Erik said, and lunged at Ivar. He danced deftly around the wounded man and slapped him with the blade of the sword with such force that it was as though Ivar was being spanked with a plank of wood. Bones cracked, and Ivar howled in pain as he swung his sword wildly. Erik fought with the controlled fury of a man who had just lost his father. He focused his attacks on Ivar’s crippled leg, sending the man down to his knees. Ivar cried and whimpered, but still, he swung his sword. Then Erik cracked the wood over Ivar’s knuckles, and he dropped his weapon.

“This is the part where you beg for your life,” Erik said, holding the point of the blade at Ivar.

“I will never beg to the likes of you,” Ivar said. His chest heaved, and he stuck his neck out. Sigrid stood over him, holding Erik’s sword.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, Ivar. I thought I wanted to do it because you killed my father, but now I want to do it because of all the pain you’ve caused over the years. Your days have been counted, and there are no more left. You will be remembered as a pitiful man, and nobody will shed a tear for you,” Sigrid said.

“Daughter…” Ivar said in a choking breath, but he never got to finish his sentence. With a raw scream, Sigrid plunged the sword into his chest, and the life slipped from Ivar’s eyes.

It was over.

He was finally dead.

Sigrid was free.

She and Erik walked hand in hand back to the village.

Erik’s heart was heavy as he and Sigrid returned. He was unsure what fate awaited him, but if Sigrid was with him, then he thought he might be able to face it. The other Vikings were already bringing back the dead from the battlefield, and the women were making preparations for a great funeral. Tears were in his eyes as he found his brother and told him what had happened and that there was one more dead body to add to the pile. Egon embraced him, and they wept for their father, while Egon showed Sigrid that Astrid was safe and well.

“Today is a dark day, and a shadow has fallen across our home,” Egon said. “But there is some light I might be able to offer. After the…revelations of the past, I received some news. Sigrid, some Vikings told me of a settlement about a half a day’s travel from here. There are Vikings who came here after being attacked in their homeland about sixteen years ago. I cannot promise your mother will be there, but the timings seem to fit, do they not? Perhaps there is a survivor who knows you.”

Sigrid couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She clutched Erik’s hand tightly, and she almost didn’t dare hope that what Egon said might be true. She rushed away and found the Viking that Egon had spoken about and confirmed what Egon said to be true. She asked for more details and indeed surmised that the timing did align with her own life, although when she described her mother, the Viking could not give any detail about whether she might have been there. Sixteen years was a long time, and Sigrid was wary about getting her hopes up.

But if there was even a chance that her mother could still be alive, she needed to find out.