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“Just look at her,” Tove murmured, the pride in her voice unmistakable. Smartly, she voiced this when King Magnus wasn’t beside us but speaking with his second-in-command further down the battlement. “Look at how far our little sister has come, Freya.”

“Ja,” Freya agreed softly, the same pride in her eyes.

I couldn’t help but agree, remembering Astrid from our youth. While she’d been a fierce warrior in her own right, she had tended to fade back, allowing her older sisters to seize all the glory. Now here she was, despite being swollen with child, looking every inch a shield-maiden with her long, honey blond hair braided back.

She wore the Helvig polar-fur cloak, with a blade at her side, and a shield at her back, walking proudly alongside her blue-eyed white husky, Oksana. The King of Scotland walked on one side of them, and her tall, formidable husband—the king’s prized warrior—on the other side. Taking in the infamous Declan Mackay with his dark auburn-tinted hair, a build nearly as big as my own, with more weapons than I could count sheathed here and there, he was undoubtedly a formidable opponent. And brave, given that arrows could rain down on them at any moment, they made their way up the dock and over the drawbridge. While yes, the warriors that had fallen in around them could protect them with shields, even that wasn’t a certainty from an arrow falling from above.

Where the plan had been to remain here until King Magnus learned of King Alexander’s intentions, I knew the moment Astrid got close enough that her eyes could meet her sisters’ that neither Tove nor Freya would be content staying up here.

“With your permission, I wish to go down and speak with my sister, not from a battlement but in person, King Magnus,” Tove said, followed by Freya requesting the same.

“Permission not granted.” The king’s jaw tightened, and his gaze remained trained on the Scots. “Not until I hear what they have to say. You two are far too important to risk such an action.”

While I tended to agree with him, I could tell from the frustrated looks on Tove’s and Freya’s faces that they weren’t pleased by that response.

“King Magnus,” King Alexander called out, close enough now that they could hear him. Also formidable in appearance, he wore a plaid cloak and possessed as many weapons as Declan, yet he wore a crown, making his standing clear despite being a few years younger. He locked eyes with Magnus and taunted him, his burr thick but his words understandable enough. “Are you such a coward that you willnae come down and speak with me?” He gestured at his ship. “When ’tis clear you hoped for diplomacy, aye?”

“Diplomacy?” Magnus gestured at King Alexander’s men taking up formation, ready to battle if need be. “When ’tis clear peace is the last thing on your mind?”

“What sort of fool would I be coming to these shores without an army, given your support of your former liege, King Hákon?” Alexander countered. He narrowed his eyes. His face grew redder. “You recall that, aye? ’Twas when you and yours raided the Scottish Isles around Largs to help support his armies before he invaded our shores once again.”

“Yet didn’t actively participate in the invasion itself,” Astrid reminded, giving the Scottish king a look that seemed to simmer him down. “And that is grounds for talking before battling, as is King Magnus’s lack of attack already, ja?” Before Alexander could respond, she went on, addressing Magnus directly, resting her hand on her swollen stomach and the babe within, likely on purpose. “To that end, I am requesting an audience with you and my sisters so that we might speak of saving lives this day and working toward a resolution rather than bloodshed.”

This was, without doubt, a difficult decision for King Magnus.

How much could a king, reportedly determined to slay him, be trusted? Yet what choice did he have, given King Alexander had made no move to attack thus far? More than that, his warriors exceeded King Magnus’s.

“How do I know I can trust you?” King Magnus called down.

“You dinnae.” The Scottish king spread his arms and eyed the dozens of arrows already trained on him. “But would I be here so vulnerable beside a pregnant woman I consider a true asset to Scotland, never mind a good friend, if I didnae have faith you wished to talk rather than battle?” He glanced from Astrid to King Magnus. “Lady Astrid Mackay, formerly Astrid Helvig, great shield-maiden of the north, has assured me you do, King Magnús Óláfsson.”

Giving him his proper title was more than anticipated and by no means something his rival would have said, had he meant to attack.

Unless, of course, it was a ruse to gain Magnus’s trust.

Either way, King Magnus had few choices and stood on the losing end of this battle, be it now or later, when the full wrath of Scotland bore down on him, so I could only pray he chose wisely.

Soon enough, I found out, and nothing would go as I anticipated.

If anything, it ended up going the very opposite.

Chapter Nineteen

Tove

I could only pray as we stood on King Magnus’s battlements after King Alexander asked that we speak rather than fight, that Magnus would make the right decision. He would see there was no other choice lest he doom his people and dynasty to inevitable ruin.

Worse yet, put Astrid and her unborn child in the crosshairs.

I once more became aware of time slowing down around me while the Norse and Scottish kings eyed each other, and fate hung in the balance. As it did, I saw the spirits of the polar bear and wolf standing on either side of Astrid, pulling us toward her, giving her the strength, if not mystical prowess, to harness peace, not war.

It seemed to be working, too, because, fortunately enough, King Magnus finally nodded and said we would be down.

Requesting that the three of us join him, as well as several of his warriors, lest King Alexander try something, we headed out a door in the wall surrounding the castle rather than open the gates. When we stopped in front of King Alexander, and the monarchs eyed each other icily, cold wind whipped up, and dark storm clouds loomed on the horizon, casting an ominous shadow over what soon felt like an increasingly tense situation.

I hadn’t seen Astrid in over two years, so it was difficult not to embrace her, but at the moment, neither Freya nor I could. This was a negotiation of sorts and needed to be treated as such. Even so, there was no missing the emotion in Astrid’s eyes when she looked at us.

The kings continued eyeing one another warily as introductions were made. Naturally, Freya acted as if she’d never met Declan, given that he’d let her and her husband, Soren, leave Scottish shores despite the bounty on Soren’s head after fighting at the Battle of Largs. I could admit that Declan appeared a good match for Astrid, not missing the way he positioned himself to defend her at a moment’s notice.