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“Or not,” she murmured. “As this is also a situation where too many things could go wrong, and you know it. However fond of my sister King Alexander might be, he has been relentless in taking back the whole of Scotland and her isles for years now. The Battle of Largs only fanned the flames and lit a fire in his soul that even respect and admiration of a good friend might not be able to pacify.”

“Speculations won’t do you any good right now, wife, and you know it,” I said softly. “We have faced enough together over the years to realize that. All we can do now is prepare for all outcomes, and so we have.”

“We have.” She shook her head. “Yet I keep getting the feeling we’re missing something. Not seeing something important in all this.” Her voice grew softer. “As if there’s an oversight.” Goosebumps rose on her flesh, and her gaze grew different, telling me she’d tapped into her gift. “Something that will precede much blood.” She kept shaking her head. Tears welled. “Far, far too much blood.”

Worried she was going into one of her trances, I scooped her up and sat again, gathering her close to give her strength and support. Resting her cheek against my chest so that the beat of my heart might ground her, I cupped my hand around the side of her neck, knowing it soothed her.

“I’m scared, husband,” she whispered, surprising me. Very little frightened her. “If Astrid weren’t pregnant, I would not fear, given nothing would honor me or my sisters more than dining with Odin in the great halls of Valhalla, but not her unborn babe, too. ’Twould not be right and mark my words, ’twould start a war betwixt our countries and…”

She trailed off, not needing to say more. I knew full well what a war like that might look like, and I wanted no part of it.

If I were to be honest, all I wanted was to return home with our newest tribe members and begin a new life with Tove. Rule well alongside each other and create a family. Work toward a better, stronger Norway, and let the Scots live their lives on their own land. As it was, the English seemed intent on ruling Scottish shores more than we, the Norse, these days, so their battle was better fought on that front.

Although forever eager to make love to Tove, I was pleased when her breathing slowed, and she fell asleep in my arms. She had worked tirelessly alongside me, Freya, and Helga to prepare all, including our newest tribe members, for what lay ahead, so I wasn’t surprised.

Carrying her to bed, I gently undressed her, careful not to rouse her, then pulled her back against me to warm her beneath the furs, never more content to have her in my arms. To fall asleep with her against me as I had long dreamed.

And so, I did, sleeping soundly until she bolted upright instead of waking languidly in my arms, seeking to make love. Used to an abrupt awakening from my younger years of battling, I grabbed the dagger beneath my pillow, ready to jump out of bed and defend her if we were under attack, but no one was there.

That’s when I realized Tove was having one of her visions.

“What is it, love?” I set aside my blade and gently steered her chin toward me, knowing that gazing into my eyes would help her focus on the present again. Free her from the clutches of her vacant stare. “What did you see?”

“Astrid,” she murmured, blinking as if waking from a dream. “They’re almost here.”

Moments later, a heavy knock came at our door.

“’Tis Freya.” She wrapped a fur around her and left the bed to go to the door, only to confirm it was her younger sister, who had awoken the same way. “Give us a moment, and we’ll join you, sister. We must rouse the king straight away.”

After closing the door, we wasted no time dressing for potential battle and sheathed our weapons. Though I kept it brief because I felt Tove’s urgency, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her swiftly, removing her talisman from my neck and tying it around hers. Staring into her eyes as she had stared into mine when doing the same thing days before, I looked at her with pride, having complete faith in her. “’Tis time for you to wear this again, wife. May it give you strength and guidance in the coming days.”

Though she didn’t reply, I knew she understood I felt the time was right to return it, and she trusted that. Better still, I trusted that, assuring her that all would be well before we joined Freya, to wake Helga and tell her to rally our warriors. Then we headed for the castle.

Within a short time, King Magnus was roused and joined us in the entrance hall, frowning when Freya and Tove told them King Alexander was nearly here. “Are you certain?”

“Very,” Tove said, she and Freya nodding. “Within hours, if not sooner. She’s very close, King Magnus, as is King Alexander.”

He considered them for a moment, wondering if he should trust this, before coming to a conclusion. “Then let us make haste and get everyone into position.”

Having planned well, we did as he asked, and everybody was ready within the hour.

The sun had just crested the horizon, splashing bright crimson across the sky, ominously lighting everything in blood red, and foretelling bad storms ahead. Tove and I stood on one of the lower battlements over the drawbridge, along with King Magnus and Freya.

At Tove and Freya’s request, King Magnus had even gone so far as to leave one dock available with just enough room for Astrid’s ship, to make it easier for her to come ashore. It was more than most would do, and I could only pray that King Alexander saw it as a gesture of goodwill.

“There!” one of the king’s men called out minutes later, proving us right when the same fleet of ships Tove and Freya had warned the king about appeared on the horizon, looking mighty indeed.

“’Tis undoubtedly a fleet,” the king muttered, wearing a heavy frown. He said no more, but he didn’t need to. Our Wyrd was unfolding as it would, and time would soon enough tell whether the gods were in his favor.

King Magnus had already made it clear we would wait for King Alexander to make the first move, whether it be a gesture of war or of peace, so now we waited, having planned for both scenarios.

Though tempted to take Tove’s hand or, at the very least, rest my hand on her shoulder in comfort, I knew better, given her strong stance. Now wasn’t the time for comfort or coddling, but for standing strong and facing whatever came next as the warriors we were. I could see that Freya agreed, standing strong alongside her sister, their gazes trained on the approaching ships.

“King Alexander has chosen to dock his ship,” I said, recognizing the way his vessel approached, given the direction of the current, relieved to see it, hopeful it meant Astrid had convinced him an ambush didn’t await him. “’Tis a good sign.”

“’Tis,” Tove and Freya agreed at the same time, looking at King Magnus with reassurance, hoping he stayed true to the patience he’d promised and to not act rashly when no one could blame him if he did.

Wisely enough, the Scottish king waited until his fleet had dropped anchor and his crews had made it ashore in rowboats before he docked and disembarked.