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Sigrid’s attempts to find her mother would have to wait. First, respect needed to be paid to those who died. Ragnar was laid to rest with the other Vikings, and Sigrid was impressed with how many people came to attend the funeral. Ragnar may have been the one who killed her father in a moment of rage, but he had clearly done so much more with his life to engender such goodwill from Vikings and Highlanders alike. Ailis stood not only with Egon and Erik but with her other children as well. They all mourned Ragnar even though he was not their biological father. Stories were told, many of them about his prowess in battle, but more of them were to do with the way he protected and helped people and built this place where Highlanders and Vikings could live in peace. They spoke of his sons, who were honorable in their own right. Ragnar’s brother Erik was there too, along with his family. He spoke somberly about childhood memories and how Ragnar had always dreamed of leaving Norway to spread the glory of the gods to other lands. Erik had always fought against it, but Ragnar’s judgment had proven to be right.

It was a sad day for all those in attendance, even for Sigrid. Ragnar might have killed her father, but it was impossible to overlook the good he had done, even for her. He took her in and vowed to protect her. He formed an army for her and fought on her behalf. He had even died so that she could escape the battlefield. It was easy to hate Ivar and blame him for the death of her father because Ivar had been a cruel man. Ragnar was evidence that people were complex creatures with characteristics that changed over the years, flaws that were mended, and mistakes that were redeemed. It made her think about her opinions regarding Erik and how unfair she had been to him. There was still time for her to make it up to him, though—a lifetime, in fact.

Sigrid stood with Erik and offered her condolences to the family. After the funeral was over, Erik pulled her aside.

“Would you like to go and find that settlement now?” he asked.

“Are you sure? I thought you might want to stay with your family. They’re going to need you around here.”

Erik stroked his chin. “I think I could use some time away from here to think about things. Besides, I’d rather not be away from you right now. We could both use some good news.”

They saddled horses and road away from the village. They barely said anything to each other on the way there. Sigrid knew that Erik must have been hurting, and there wasn’t anything she could say to take away the pain, but the fact that he wanted to be around her spoke volumes. She hadn’t had anyone when her father had died, but at least Erik had her.

The settlement was indeed half a day away. There were wisps of smoke that rose as they approached. It was set in a small woodland area. A stream babbled nearby, and there were rustles of small animals scurrying about. It was the kind of place that looked hidden from the world.

What better place to hide from bandits and warriors and all the bad things that exist? Sigrid thought.

As they approached, her stomach was in knots. She didn’t know if she was more afraid of seeing her mother again or finding out that this had all been false hope, and her mother wasn’t here. But Erik was beside her. Whenever her steps faltered, he was there to offer an arm to help her continue. Whenever she expressed doubt, he was there to reassure her, and she was grateful for his presence. She wasn’t sure that she could have done this without him.

Sigrid looked at the small, humble people of the village. A child scampered by and stopped when she saw the two newcomers. The girl was an imp, with a button nose and stringy brown hair.

“Do you know where Frida is?” Sigrid asked with a lump in her throat. The child tilted her head for a moment and then pointed to a hut underneath some trees. Sigrid walked as though she was in a dream. Suddenly, she was standing at the doorway, she was knocking on the door, the door was opening, and then a woman appeared—slender, lithe, beautiful, with hair the color of gold.

Sigrid felt all the strength leave her body as she saw the impossible.

“Sigrid! My little Sigrid!” Frida exclaimed and took Sigrid into her arms. It was an embrace that had been nothing more than a whispered memory, but upon feeling her mother’s arms around her again, Sigrid was taken back to childhood. She was a scared little girl once again, but a girl reunited with her mother, and when she was in her mother’s arms, everything seemed to be well.

“Sigrid, is it really you?” Frida asked, looking just as shocked as Sigrid did.

Sigrid nodded. Tears were in her eyes. “Oh, Mother. I’m so sorry.”

“What have you got to be sorry for, child?”

“For not coming to find you. For believing that you were dead. I should have looked for you. I should have—”

Sigrid was silenced by a single shake of the head. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Sigrid. All that matters is that you are here now. Please, come inside with me. It appears that we have a lot to speak about,” Frida said.

Tears trickled down Sigrid’s face as she went inside and told Frida all about her life, leaving out no detail, no matter how grisly. There were many tears wept between these women as they lamented the life they had lost, but Frida also thanked the gods for bringing Sigrid back to her.

A shadow passed across Sigrid’s face. “I don’t much care for the gods,” she said.

“You should. They have blessed you. I prayed for you every day, Sigrid, that they would keep you safe. And they have,” Frida said.

Sigrid still wasn’t sure about the gods, but it was a miracle that her mother was alive after all this time, so perhaps she was more willing than before to admit that the gods might be watching over her. She actually had a family again, and it felt as though she had been given back a part of her she thought she had lost.

For some time, they each shared their stories of what happened in their lives after that fateful day when their village had been attacked. Frida shook her head when they spoke about it, telling Sigrid that she had tried to prevent the men from attacking, but they were too foolhardy and wanted to protect their land. Sigrid had spent all these years blaming anyone but her father, but it appeared as though he was as much to blame as anyone else. If she was going to be angry at Ragnar and Ivar, then she was going to have to be angry at her father as well, and she didn’t want to live like this. It helped her be at peace with herself.

“What are you going to do now? Are you going to go back to Norway?” Frida asked.

Sigrid was silent for a moment. She hadn’t quite decided what she was going to do with her future. But Erik had an idea. He had mostly stayed silent, allowing the women to have their reunion, but now he cleared his throat and spoke up.

“Actually, Frida, I’m glad that we found you because I have a question. I wondered if I could have your daughter’s hand in marriage?” he asked.

Sigrid’s cheeks flushed red.

Frida smiled. “Well, I would love to give you my blessing, but Sigrid has gotten into the habit of making decisions by herself. I think this is one that should be left up to her.”

Erik turned to Sigrid. “Well, Sigrid? What do you think? Shall we—”

Before the words were out of his mouth, Sigrid was upon him, kissing him passionately, and there he had his answer.