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She searched frantically for Maxwell to try and talk some sense into him, but everyone was busy getting the town ready to become this huge pyre that would set the horizon ablaze. Buckets of tar were left all around the walls, and others pasted tar on the insides of the walls so that the fire would take hold and lock everyone into an inferno. Hilda looked at the houses and felt a sense of pity for all these homes that were about to be destroyed. She thought about her own village and if she would be prepared to let it burn to rid the world of a great evil.

It unnerved her that the answer did not come easily to her.

Hilda eventually spotted Maxwell emerging from the rear of the village, where they hid most of the tar so that the enemy would be less likely to spot it. Before she had a chance to speak to him, there was a cry from a lookout; the enemy was approaching.

Hilda turned and saw a vague cloud on the horizon. Within moments, the cloud came into focus, and she knew them to be the approaching enemy. Her forces quickly disbanded and retreated into the cover of the nearby trees, hiding and holding breath, for if they were spotted, then the ruse would be over before they even had a chance to implement it. Hilda had worked her way around so that she was crouching beside Maxwell.

“I dinnae like this,” she whispered as softly as she could.

“Dae ye nae want tae trap them?” he asked.

“Aye, but killing them like this? It seems wrong.”

“What they did is more wrong than anything else. Sae much blood is on their hands. It’s fitting that their blood will be spilled on this day instead of our own.”

His voice was terse. Hilda looked at him and wondered if she was the only one who felt this way. Once again, she missed her mother greatly, for she knew that Fiona would have sided with her. Perhaps one of the advantages of being a woman warrior was being able to show mercy to the enemy, even when they did not deserve it.

She watched with anxiety as Angus and the rest of them came thundering forward toward the village, with nothing but hatred in their hearts. The leader, a tall man with a mane of black hair, called for them to stop. Hilda’s heart was in her mouth. At least they were here rather than attacking the Callan clan.

“Maxwell Black, where are ye? Are ye a coward and gaeing tae hide behind the walls?” the man shouted. The horse paced back and forth.

Hilda could sense Maxwell bristling with tension beside her. It wasn’t in his nature to refuse a challenge, yet he remained silent. The village remained silent.

“We cannae wait here all day!” Angus said, and he led the charge against the village. He ran up and roared with joy when he realized the gates were unlocked. He opened them, and the enemy was so elated, they didn’t stop to think that it might be a trap. They poured in and roared, and once the last one had entered, Stephen and Hamish ran out and locked the gates. By this point, the ruse had been discovered, and the enemy realized that there was nobody in the village, but it was too late. The villagers ran out and started to set the tar alight. A blaze quickly spread across the walls. It licked and spat and crackled as the air shimmered with heat. There were fists beating against the walls. Arrows were fired from the empty village and came slamming down into the ground.

“Let us out! What are ye daeing?!” came cries of panic from the village as the enemy realized what was happening.

“This is punishment for yer crimes,” Maxwell shouted. “Ye hae cursed the Highlands with yer presence, and now ye must pay penance. The world will be better off rid of ye.”

Hilda knew she should feel triumphant, and she should feel angry. This was all she had wanted, after all, for the people who killed her mother to pay. And yet, she couldn’t quite bring herself to feel satisfied with the outcome. After all, she had held herself just as much responsible for her mother’s death as the person who fired the arrow, so should she walk into the inferno and give herself to the flames as well?

The people in the blazing walls were ranging from defiant to panicked. It didn’t take long for the fire to spread where it became difficult to see the walls at all. It licked the tar and rose to the point where a thick plume of smoke was rising through the air. The air became smoky and filled with ash. Hilda’s eyes glistened and stung, but she could not bring herself to look away. With every moment that passed, there were more pleading, plaintive, desperate cries. There were loud coughs as well, and the hammering on the walls became intense in certain places and silent in others as they couldn’t get close to the heat.

Meanwhile, Hilda and her forces watched on. They stood silent and resolute as their enemy burned. It should have been a great day, where good triumphed over evil and justice was done, but it certainly didn’t feel like it. When Hilda thought about the songs that would be sung of this battle, she did not feel as though they would cover herself in glory. She didn’t think she would go down in the annals of history as a great warrior when all she did was stand by and watch a village burn. The more she heard their screams, the more she felt as though this was wrong. She fondled her necklace and wondered if Thor would have ever done this. Surely the only glory in battle was defeating the enemy when looking him in the eyes?

She also thought of the stories her father had told her, the ones he had saved until she was old enough to understand the nuances of the world. Then he had told her about his time when he was a villain, and this certainly seemed like something his old leader would have done. There was nothing heroic about this, and Hilda didn’t think she would be able to live with herself unless she did something about it. She strode out in front of the men and noticed the conflicted look on their faces.

“Is this what ye haed in mind when ye thought of glory? Is this what ye wanted when ye decided tae become warriors? Are we really gaeing tae stand here while those people burn and pretend that we’re heroes? We’re just as bad as them, and if ye dinnae realize that, then ye are lying tae yerself.”

“They’re killers!” someone shouted.

“Aye, and we’re warriors. We’re supposed tae hold ourselves tae a different standard. I cannae stand here and listen tae them burn. It’s nae right. I feel like a monster.”

“Yer feelings are a small price tae pay for justice,” another villager called out.

Hilda turned to her brother and Maxwell, hoping to find some solace from one of them. Stephen was indeed conflicted, but he did not yet have the wherewithal to side with his sister. Maxwell was staring into nothingness, but she thought she knew a way to convince him.

“If they die, then we will never be able tae speak with them. We will never get the answers tae the questions we seek,” she said.

Something flickered in Maxwell’s mind, and he looked directly at her. She locked her gaze with him and stared at him defiantly, almost daring him to defy her. Behind her, the flames rose, and the hot air stung her back. She could only imagine what it was like for those stuck in the village. It must have been a cauldron, and if nothing changed, then it was only going to get worse. Hilda couldn’t do it by herself, though. The fire was too intense to open the gates. If nobody joined her, then there was nothing she could do to stop these people from burning, and she would have to find a way to live with even more guilt.