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“How dae ye know she haes been abducted?” Emmel asked, taking Ewan to an overturned log where he could sit down. Douglas returned with a drink for the man. Ewan held the flagon in trembling hands and gulped down the ale, wiping away the frothy remnants from his lips. His eyes were haunted, and he looked far older than when Emmel had last seen him, but then again, fear and stress could add years to any man.

“I received a message from Joan telling me that Isla and Andrew hae nae arrived. They discovered their wagon by the side of a road. The driver was beaten and described the attack. There is a Viking settlement nearby. It’s the only explanation. Oh…oh, my sweet child and grandchild. What if they are hurt? What if these Vikings take them back tae Norway?”

Ewan muttered and mumbled more about the dangers that might face his family. Ewan took him by the shoulders and looked directly into his eyes.

“I will nae let that happen tae them. I’ll bring them back, Ewan, ye hae my word on that,” Emmel vowed. He left Ewan to the care of Douglas and returned to Brenda.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Brenda asked. She had always favored the Norwegian accent over the Scottish one.

Emmel nodded. “I hae tae. I tried tae warn her against traveling, but she didnae listen. If she’s in danger… I cannae bear it. Will ye—will ye watch over Da in my absence? I know that ye and Douglas will hae everything under control here.”

“Of course we will,” Brenda said. “But I’m not expecting to stay as leader here. This is your place, Emmel. This is your village too. If you need any help, don’t hesitate to let us know, and we will see you back here soon.”

Emmel could sense the fear within her. He could feel the same thing too. They had both assumed that the trouble with Vikings would be over after sending the enemy back across the sea, but it seemed as though there were still antagonists closer to home. Emmel’s heart burned with anger at the thought of anyone hurting Isla, or Andrew. His hands clenched into fists, and he trembled so fiercely he thought the world was shaking under his feet, but that anger wouldn’t do Isla any good now. He had to leave as soon as possible, for anything might be happening to them.

However, before he left, he had to say goodbye to his father. Erik had a second lease on life during the battle and the wedding, but now he was back here in his home, sitting and staring out of the window.

“Da, I need tae tell ye something,” Emmel said, and described the situation to him. Erik nodded sagely.

“A warrior must heed the call of those who need protecting,” he said. “It’s what I would do in your position.”

“I know, Da,” Emmel said.

“It’s strange, really. I have lived far longer than most warriors get. There always used to be a saying that no warrior got to die in his own bed. I thought that I was going to be reunited with Ragnar when the Vikings attacked.”

Emmel flinched at the mention of death. “Ye dinnae hae tae keep thinking of bleak things, Da. Valhalla will be waiting for ye no matter when ye die. There is no rush.”

Erik laughed at this. “Oh, I’m in no rush, believe me, but the old should never linger too long in the world. The world is a place for the young. You can enjoy it more than we ever could.”

Erik looked gaunt, and although he was stronger than most his age, he looked a shadow of his former self. Emmel remembered him when he was younger, how he was so vibrant and vigorous. He seemed like a giant then. Emmel wondered if he seemed like a giant to Andrew. Life always turned in cycles, and the young took the place of the old, but it never made it easier to witness this changing of the seasons.

“I’ll be back soon, Da. I just wanted tae tell ye that I will nae be around for a wee while,” he said, patting Erik’s shoulder. Erik offered encouraging words before Emmel left.

Emmel packed a few supplies and decided that he should disguise himself in case anyone should recognize him. As Erik’s son, he had a certain level of notoriety, and he wanted to be able to blend in should the Vikings who captured Isla and Andrew wish to capture him as well. So he got a knife, went to the shore, and hacked off his hair. Golden locks fell onto golden sand and were washed away by the blue sea. He cut close to his scalp until there was nothing left, and when he gazed into his reflection, he almost didn’t recognize himself. He changed his clothes to a ragged, dirty shirt as well, and then he felt satisfied that he could move through the Highlands without anyone recognizing him. He slipped away from the island with determination in his heart, gazing directly toward the mainland. Whoever had taken Isla was going to pay with blood, and if they harmed her or Andrew… Well, the gods would cry out in horror.