A/N: Hello all, and thank you again for reading. At this point all chapters including this one have been re-edited for any grammar errors, spelling errors or tightening up some plot points. Nothing major was changed, mostly just grammar issues and cleaning up some dialog, but there few things I'll point out so no one has to necessarily go back and re-read everything.

In chapter 3 I tightened up Helge's vision/prophecy just a bit, making it fit a bit more in line with the events that play out.

At the end of chapter 6 I changed the part where Priscilla slips a piece of paper to Coal with their orders and made it a moment where she reflects on the orders that he brought to her. The original writing didn't really fit in line with how things between them actually played out with who brought a message to who, and its been bugging me for months to get it fixed. Now I can finally rest easy on that point.

In chapter 8 I finally got everyone facing the correct direction for rowing on the longship - that one's been bugging me for a while.

In chapter 29 Priscilla no longer tells Herleif that she saved Gunnar's life, as that is instead used as a reveal in chapter 31.

Originally in chapter 30 I have Coal and Priscilla without their helmets and then in chapter 32 they magically have them again. Thats been fixed. Not a major point but that I'm always worrying about where people have their helmets and weapons...

Thanks again to everyone who has stuck with this story so far, and happy reading!

Priscilla walked quickly across the field back towards the horses, with Coal following at her heels. She hadn't bothered to wait around to discover the conclusion of Herleif and Gunnar's talk, as much as it might very well concern her impending doom, and their so-called Berserker guards hadn't seemed to care enough to stop them leaving in the end. Regardless of how confident Gunnar had seemed to change his brother's mind, she had a feeling Herleif would not be easily swayed from his choice of handing her and Coal over to Erik Golden-Shield, and no amount of calling them by some honorary Viking title was going to change that, touching as it was.

Silently fuming at herself as she went, her thoughts seemed to linger on nothing else but the moment when Gunnar had placed his hand on hers, and how it had felt to take it as they sat together on the hill. Why she hadn't just pulled her hand away and turned her back on him was a mystery she was still trying to figure out, but she made up for it by inwardly cursing herself with every step she took. It was perfectly obvious to anyone how the big brute felt about her. Whether it was because he was simply acting on some base savage instinct or suffered from a misguided romantic delusion, she didn't know, but she assured herself that it didn't matter. Right now all that did matter was keeping Gunnar in check and making sure that he didn't let slip the truth of the Walled City's vault and the armor of Apollyon to any of the Jarls. If letting him believe that there was more between them then what was truly there was a way of doing that, well it was certainly not beneath her to use whatever means necessary to see her mission complete.

The idea that she might in any way believe there was actually some romantic notion between them as they traveled and fought side by side in one battle after another was absolutely laughable to think about. His surprising amount of understanding and gentle compassion towards her struggles was not something to concern herself with, and his easy going nature and simple humor was in no way enduring or cute. He was a Viking, a barbarian and a pagan. By all accounts he was an enemy to her and her people if not for the strange circumstances of their meeting, as he had said himself.

No, the only thing she would concern herself with regarding Gunnar 'The Bear' was whether or not he revealed too much about the death of Vincent Chaldeon to his brother, and if he did then she would simply act accordingly. Once she figured out whether or not he did give up the truth, of course.

"Just kill him. Easy," she muttered to herself, quietly brooding as she walked on.

"What's that?" Coal asked her.

"What?"

Coal took an extra long step to come up at her side. "You said something about killing."

"I did not," she said quickly, picking up her pace to stay a head of him, dodging through a group of Vikings heading the opposite direction to heard Coal behind her.

"I'm pretty sure you did," he said, still closer behind her than she cared for at the moment.

"Shut up."

"Don't tell me to shut up, tell me your plan," Coal grumbled.

"Plan?" she snapped, stopping and turning on Coal so suddenly that he nearly tripped over his own feet as he tried not to run into her. "What plan? I have no plan. Why do you think I have a fucking plan?"

"You better have a fucking plan," Coal snapped in return, pointing a finger in her face only to drop it as he realized it might draw too much unwanted attention. He quickly glanced around before going on in a more hushed tone. "You got us into this mess, now how are you getting us out?"

Priscilla could have screamed from the indignation of this man, but somehow she kept herself in check as she held her balled up fists tight at her side. "In this mess? I seem to remember saving your life when I got us 'into this mess' as you put it!" she hissed at him.

"And I would be eternally fucking grateful if it wasn't for the fact that my head is now on the chopping block right next to yours!" Coal said.

"Well if you are so desperate then you come up with something! What plan do you have? Or are you incapable of coming up with anything that does not involve digging a tunnel with a spoon?"

"I have a plan," he said quickly. "I say we run."

"We run?" she repeated, hoping that he realized how stupid he sounded.

"Yes, run," Coal said again, realizing nothing.

It was too much, far too much, enough to make her grab Coal by the collar of his armor and pull him down to her level. "I just told you to run while we sat up on the hill and you stuffed your mouth full of tainted stew! I seem to recall you passing on the idea."

"Now that you say it, I do seem to recall having this conversation already," Coal said, squinting at her as he nodded.

"No running!" Priscilla shouted as she shoved him away, no longer caring in the slightest how much attention they attracted now.

"Fine!" Coal shouted back, only to go right back to a hushed whisper as he leaned in again. "But then we need a fucking plan that doesn't involve getting our backs split open to look like bloody angels."

"The plan is the same plan as always. We go to the Walled City and defeat the Pyre, then we wait. Nothing has changed." She stretched herself up towards him, intent on standing as tall as her limited height would allow under his gaze. "I have worked too long and too hard to let a would be barbarian king stand in my way now."

"That is horse shit!" Coal exclaimed, struggling to keep his voice in check even as he quite theatrically threw up his hands in aggravation. "That's just taking a plan that was pretty shit to begin with and just adding more shit on top of it. At this point it's more shit then it is plan! It's just shit, Priscilla! All we have is shit!"

"Well you have always been better at talking shit than me, Coal, so I will leave it up to you to make something out of what shit we have to work with." She put her hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I look forward to seeing what you come up with," and she turned promptly on her heel and headed for the horses once again.

"What about the Commander?" Coal asked as he stepped quickly to follow after. "Surely Judith isn't just going to stand by while two of her own Knights are put to death?"

"Oh, you mean the problematic Peacekeeper that keeps making trouble with our new Viking overlords and the unknown Conqueror who arrived in her legion just weeks before our nation was torn apart?" she called back over her shoulder, letting Coal separate fact from sarcasm himself. "Yes, I am sure she will simply jump at the chance to risk everything she has fought for to get to this point just to save her two most important upstarts."

Coal was silent for a moment before speaking up again. "Point taken."

As their horses and fellow Knights came into view through the crowd of camped Vikings, Priscilla briefly wondered if being blood eagled by smug vermin the likes of Erik Golden-Shield and Ivar the Red wouldn't be preferable compared to Coal's whining. She weaved her way through Knights and foot soldiers tending to their gear or mounts, ignoring all of them as she stormed past. Not that any of them sought her attention, but it made her feel better to think that she was the one who was better off without the whole lot of ungrateful bastards. If only they knew what she was going through to save their skin, the sacrifices she was making, risking her own neck for theirs. They would never know of course, as Erik would most likely have her killed long before her plans might bear any real fruit.

Finding her horse among the others, she marched up to the beast and began checking the stirrup straps of her saddle, if only to keep herself busy and her mind off of the dark cloud looming over her potentially short future. Maybe running wasn't such a bad idea after all. Just jump on her horse and ride, take off at full gallop across the plain before anyone could stop her, putting as much distance between herself and these northern savages before just disappearing into the wilderness forever.

No more warring legions. No more Viking raids or Samurai incursions. She would leave it all behind. No more Sisterhood, no more answering to Beaufort. No Commander or Jarls to lie to, or living under the threat of death each moment of every day. None of it. She would be free to live her life how she wanted, and that would be the end of it. All she had to do was get on this horse and just run.

No more Coal, now that she thought about it. No more stupid jokes in the darkest of moments. No one to have her back when it felt like it was just her against the world. No more Gunnar either, with that great laugh and booming voice. No one to stand up for her when she needed it most. No one to treat her like she wasn't an outsider. It would just be her, all alone.

It was a bitter irony that she should be a Peacekeeper fearful of being alone, but such was life. It was that fear that had caused so much heartbreak and strife in her past, and brought her to this point of desperation now. That fear of being alone that would keep her from running even though her life depended on it. She just couldn't bring herself to leave, not even these deserters and heathens. Maybe she was just as much a fool as Coal and Gunnar after all.

"Priscilla," Coal said as he suddenly appeared at her side, making her jump with surprise and causing any empathy she felt for the man to instantly evaporate. "In all seriousness, we need a plan. Not a shit plan, but a real one. I would very much like not to be ripped apart by heathens if we can help it."

She squeezed the leather of her saddle tight in her hands for a moment as she composed herself, then turned and lightly thumped her fist against his chest, trying not to imagine herself holding her dagger as she did so. "Of course, you are absolutely right. We need a plan. A good plan. One that cannot fail, lest we meet an untimely demise."

"Yeah," Coal nodded along with a growing smile. "Yeah, now we're talking. What are you thinking?"

Priscilla bit down hard on her lip, willing herself not to cry out in anger when she spoke. "Oh, its is a magnificent plan. One that I really put a lot of thought into."

Coal went quiet for a moment, dark eyes peering down at her. "I thought you had a plan, but now I feel that you're just lying to me out of spite."

"Not at all!" Priscilla exclaimed, gripping one of the straps across his chest now. "It is the perfect plan, I promise you that. A plan unlike any other. And I will tell you right now, this plan is absolutely, unquestionably, pure..." A growing commotion rising out towards the edge of where the horses grazed drew her attention over Coal's shoulder, and any sense of contempt in her voice instantly vanished at what she saw, "...shit."

"Shit?" Coal repeated, reeling back from her in surprise. "Oh you lying bitch! That's the same plan as before!"

"No, you fucking imbecile!" Priscilla growled, grabbing Coal by his arm and turning him around as she pointed out towards the north. "I mean, shit!"

Further out on the plain and quickly getting closer road a group of no less than thirty riders, northmen wearing golden shining helmets and yellow painted armor. Above their heads waved white banner with a golden eagle waving in the wind, and leading them was a white-haired Highlander with gleaming claymore strapped across his back. They were running straight for the camp, and none of them looked at all happy to be there.

Coal froze where he stood. "Shit."

The Sea Eagle raiders barely slowed their pace as they made their way into the camp. They barreled straight past the Lion Flame Knights sitting around their horses, knocking aside gear and nearly trampling anyone who didn't get out of their way fast enough as they moved on into the Bilrost portion of the camp. The blue and silver clad Vikings there fared little better as they all scrambled to get out of the way of Erik's riders. The brooding Highlander called Old Wolf cast his hard eyes about, surveying all around him, seeing everyone and yet looking past them as only one practiced in ruthless authority could. He was searching for someone, that much was clear, but for who Priscilla couldn't be sure, which did nothing to calm her nerves.

"Come on," she said, tugging urgently on Coal's arm to lead him after the new arrivals.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he grumbled as he stumbled after her. "Usually it's best to stay away from the bastards that want you dead."

"Is standing around doing nothing any better?" she retorted, and pulled Coal along faster until they were weaving through Knights and then Vikings to get closer to where Erik's champion had come to a halt. Together they pushed their way past two Bilrost warriors just in time to see Old Wolf dismounting from his horse, throwing the reins to some unsuspecting young Warlord who caught them in the face. The Highlander cast his gaze about at the gathered circle of warriors that had formed around him and his riders, and even with the distance between them Priscilla could see the smug smile sitting beneath his neatly groomed mustache and beard. Then he turned and faced the only person who hadn't bothered to get up from their camp fire upon his arrival.

"Oi, corpse maiden. Where be your master?" Old Wolf said, speaking loud enough in his strange accent for all to hear.

Skuld sat calmly at her own little fire, her fierce blue eyes shining from within her golden helmet as she examined the edge of her bright spear. She held a dark wet stone in one hand, and slid it smoothly along the spear head before giving it another look. Even with dozens of other Vikings from two different clans standing around her, and an overbearing Highlander staring her down, the woman sat as calm and serene as an immaculate statue carved of marble.

Old Wolf only waited a moment longer in silence as Skuld went on ignoring him before he stepped forward and kicked a spray of dirt over her fire. "You hear me? I came to speak with your master. Now tell me where he might be, or go an fetch him like a good wee lass."

Skuld seemed unbothered by her fire being snuffed out just as she seemed unbothered by Old Wolf's second demand for her attention. She simply continued to work on sharpening her spear, giving it another slide of the wet stone before she was finally satisfied with its ability to skewer man and beast alike. Perhaps beginning with a worthless old man that fancied himself great purely by association to the man he served, Priscilla thought. It was only after Skuld slipped the wet stone into a pouch that she set her stormy eyes on the Highlander, though they were void of any emotion other than indifference. Or perhaps it was the blue fire of pure divine rage. The woman revealed nothing behind that mask.

Slowly she got up to her feet, sparking a hint of jealousy within Priscilla as she rose to her full height and met the great Highlander eye to eye. Her blonde hair sat on her shoulders like braided sunshine, and she stamped the end of her spear into the ground so that the polished blade glinted majestically in the daylight. She still wore that same old knife in her belt, the one that Ragna had said she would never use until the right moment. Standing with equal amounts of grace and authority, everything about Skuld simply seemed otherworldly.

It struck Priscilla then just how much the Valkyrie looked like the image of an angel, dressed as she was in her white cloak and mail along with her golden helmet adorned with little wings. Even the idea of caring for lost souls seemed like a notable similarity. She doubted that any of the Vikings here would take kindly to that sort of comparison though, even if it was simply an innocent observation.

"I serve no master," Skuld said, her words muffled slightly by her helmet, but still somehow carrying immense weight as she spoke.

The crowd watching stood in abject silence to watch these two mighty heroes stand opposite each other, a chooser of slain facing the chained wolf, almost like seeing a glimpse of the end of days according to Viking belief. Old Wolf simply grinned though, slipping his great steel and gold claymore from his back and planting it in the ground to lean against. "Oh aye, an I've just been do'n Erik a favor these last thirty years. I simply can't help me'self, what for my own weeping heart and all. Luckily he gives me such nice 'n shiny things to wear for me troubles," he said, glancing down and wiping at one of the great golden brooches that held his patterned cape to his armor. "Poor bastard feels indebted to me or some shite for all the big tough men I've killed for him. So when he asks me to ride out'n have a chat with his wee friend Herleif, see if he'd not gone 'n gotten himself lost out in this barren shitehole, what am I to do but give a kindness and come seek out this Bilrost bloke. Ya follow me lass?"

Priscilla was pretty sure she'd just heard Old Wolf say more in this one moment than Skuld ever had in the whole time she'd known her, which hadn't been for very long to begin with, and the stoic Valkyrie certainly wasn't trying to up the count now. Again she simply stood there, staring at Old Wolf with unflinching defiance.

Old Wolf stared back, smiling slightly as he waited for an answer, then soon glanced about as if to see if this were all some joke he wasn't in on. "I know ya ain't mute, lass," he said turning back to Skuld. He gave her one more chance to speak up, but only ended up waiting in vain. "Ya making me sad now, lass. When I get sad I get angry. Be a crying shame if I was to take out that anger on a pretty thing such as yourself. But then, I ain't seen nothing but this shiny mask covering your face." He grinned at her as he lifted a great big hand, reaching out his fingers towards the bottom rim of her helmet. "I'm sure ya look as beautiful as the sun under there. More beautiful even than gold..."

As soon as his finger tips touched her mask, Skuld swiftly jumped back into a crouch and brought her spear up to point right at Old Wolf's throat. By the time the crowd reacted with a gasp of surprise she was already as still as stone, perfectly poised to drive the spear tip into the Highlander with ease. The Sea Eagle riders kicked their horses forward, lowering spears of their own in defense of their leader, but Skuld didn't flinch.

Old Wolf looked less than pleased to be threatened, especially not by a woman who seemed to have no regard for his station. "Are ya sure ya want to be doing this, lass?" he growled softly, glaring down the length of the spear at Skuld. His hand tightened around his great sword, fingers squeezing around the black leather grip. "Or do ya wish to know who it is that will come to claim your soul when its you dead in the dirt?"

Skuld's eyes narrowed to deathly blue slits beneath her helmet. "Do you?" she asked. Old Wolf scowled at her and swallowed hard, the lump in his throat grazing ever so slightly against the spear tip as it bobbed up and down.

Priscilla watched on with the rest of the crowd, not sure if Skuld killing Old Wolf would work in her favor or not. Having Erik lose his champion might prove to be enough of a distraction for her killing Chaldeon to be over looked, at least for a time, but it didn't seem likely. Rather than silently hoping for some sort of deliverance, she looked around for any way of sparking off a fight and see if she couldn't sway the fates in her favor. That was when she spotted Gunnar standing not far off to her left. In a way it sort of surprised her to find him standing there on his own rather than with her and Coal. As annoying as it was to suffer his unexpected company at any given moment, she had somehow grown used to having him around.

She caught his eye as the standstill went on, but when she made a move towards him he frowned and gave the faintest shake of his head. His hand came up at his side, gesturing for her to stay where she was. Priscilla felt herself grow tense, wondering if his talk with Herleif really had gone poorly. More than that though, she couldn't help but feel a bitter sense of disappointment at being told to stay away. It was a ridiculous notion though. There was no sense in them standing together at all really, so why would it matter? She shouldn't have given it any thought in the first place.

"What is the meaning of this?" rang out a powerful voice over their heads, followed shortly after by Herleif making his way through the crowd. His warriors quickly stepped aside for him, and as he set his eyes on the sight of Skuld and Old Wolf facing off against each other, or more aptly Skuld holding herself back from running the old bastard through, he scowled angrily and strode towards them. "Old Wolf, what an unexpected surprise. For what purpose has Erik let you off your leash this time?"

"I came to speak with ya, Jarl Herleif," Old Wolf said without taking his eyes away from Skuld. "So far me welcome has been less than hospitable. If I was you, I'd call off your weird woman here before she gets cut down t'size."

Herleif slowed his stride as he approached, letting the Highlander linger at the tip of Skuld's spear. "The Valkyries suffer no rule from the likes of Jarls and men. They serve only the gods, and fight alongside us in our battles as they see fit. You would know this if you at all cared to learn about the world you serve in, of course. I am honored to have Skuld here with me, and I may ask her to spare your worthless life for the friendship I share with your master, but it is ultimately up to her if she wishes to do so." He turned to Skuld then with an easy look that was neither expectant or demanding, and simply waited for her to make a choice. It seemed that everyone watching collectively held their breath, none more so than Old Wolf himself as he glared down at the Valkyrie, but at last Skuld relaxed her stance and lowered her weapon and moved to stand at ease next to Herleif as if nothing had happened at all. "Wonderful!" Herleif smiled, "It seems that the gods wish you to live on for at least one more day. What joyous news for you."

Old Wolf still scowled angrily as he put both hands on his sword. "I would urge you t'think again on who it is you be talking too, if you think my master does not gift me with his authority when I grace you with me presence."

Herleif said nothing at first, and simply stepped right up to the Highlander until they nearly stood nose to nose. "I know exactly who it is I am speaking to," he said with a not so kind smile across his face. "Now what is it you have come to speak about, old dog?"

The lines in Old Wolf's face grew deeper and more grim and he frowned. "Erik gave you the honor of hunt'n down this fire worship'n Lawbringer Chaldeon. Now he grows anxious t'meet the bòidheach himself, an I've come to collect. He has questions on how t'get into the vault."

Now it was Herleif who looked grim. Priscilla watched on as he glanced over his shoulder to Gunnar, who in turn looked over to her. The fear in his eyes shook her to the core, and she knew for certain then just how badly the talk with Herleif must have played out. Suddenly the idea of running seemed undeniably tempting after all.

Old Wolf followed Herleif's gaze, then glanced about at the crowd. "Well? D'you have a prisoner to make a gift of? Bring 'im here an I'll be on me way, an you all can go back to play'n in the dirt like bairns."

A chill ran down Priscilla's spine as she watched Herleif lean in and whisper something in Old Wolf's ear. The sight of the Highlander's eyes going wide was even less comforting. "Dammit," she murmured, just as Old Wolf leaned back to say something, but Herleif caught him by the shoulder and continued their private conversation with more to say.

"Plan?" Coal said beside her.

"What?" she said, watching as Old Wolf's features twisted up angrier than ever. Then to her utter dismay, both he and Herleif looked over in her and Coal's direction, and there was no mistaking what had been said between them.

"Plan. What's the plan?" Coal asked with a great deal more urgency this time.

"The plan?" Her heart was racing now faster than her mind, making it nearly impossible to think. She had to think though, she had to come up with something that would get them out of this. She had to save their skins if there was ever going to be a chance to save anyone else. "The plan is..." Without really knowing why she looked back to Gunnar, not having a clue how he might help but seeking him out anyway. His only answer was the pleading look in his eyes, and the little nod of his head to get back in the crowd and disappear. To run, she knew that they had to run. But where? Where could they go when all roads pointed to the Walled City, where she had placed all her hope of freedom and a return to the life she knew. Now it seemed because of her mistakes she wouldn't have a life at all. "The plan is..."

Old Wolf suddenly let out a harsh call in a language she didn't understand, but the riders who accompanied him surely did. They dismounted from their horses, some stepping forwards with spears, others reaching into their saddlebags before coming on as well. They carried shackles with them, and they looked at no one else except at the problematic Peacekeeper and unknown Conqueror standing in their midst.

"We really need a plan Priscilla," Coal hissed, slipping his shield onto his arm but having no flail to accompany it.

"The plan is..." she said again, knowing now what the plan had been all along. "The plan is, we are fucked."