As she stepped into the next room, taking a breath of fresh air for the first time in what felt like days, Priscilla saw Gunnar heading toward the ladder with his head hung low and shoulders slumped. The battle out in the courtyard could still be heard raging on, and Priscilla wondered how long it would be before Gunnar found his brother and told him of all that had happened between them and Vincent Chaldeon.

"Gunnar," she found herself calling out, her frantic heart racing in her chest, feeling desperate to make this all just go away before it got worse. "Gunnar, wait."

He stopped and turned to her at the sound of her voice; his lips turned downward into a curious frown, but he said nothing. Coal stopped as well, taking a step aside as Priscilla approached.

"Will Herleif tell Erik about the armor once he knows?" she asked.

The two men glanced at each other, then Gunnar shrugged. "I would suppose so. Erik needs to be informed, and it would be Herleif's duty to do so. Besides, my brother would not take kindly to the notion of Erik throwing us into a battle all for a treasure that is not there."

"Could you convince your brother not to tell him?" Priscilla asked.

Gunnar gave a small laugh, then frowned again when he realized she was being serious. "Why would I do that?"

Just hearing that question made Priscilla absolutely sure that this matter had to be dealt with here and now. No one else could be involved. "You cannot tell Herleif about the armor," she said, telling him flat out what had to be done. The alternative simply wasn't something she could allow to pass. "You cannot tell any of the Jarls. Especially not Erik. He can never know."

Gunnar's frown deepened, his shoulders becoming tense. "What are you on about, woman? Of course I need to tell them. Erik started this whole raid for that armor."

Priscilla nodded, feeling the weight in the pit of her stomach growing heavier. "I know, but that is why you can never tell him. He came to Ashfeld to take the armor as his prize, but we came to him because we needed help saving our home."

She stepped right up to Gunnar, looking up as he towered above her. Coal stood just behind, and she could feel his eyes on her back. Knowing that he was there to witness this made the guilt she carried nearly unbearable.

"If he learns that the armor was never in the vault, then there is no telling what he might do. He may just kill everyone at Mount Ignis, soldier or not, or decide to go and raid somewhere else altogether." She took a breath, knowing that her next point could be a very real and unsettling possibility, but decided to try and use it to her advantage anyway. Why Gunnar might care was something she had tried not to dwell on too much for other reasons, but if she could use his feelings to convince him to remain silent, then she had to try. "He might blame us for this and have us all executed or even enslaved!"

That seemed to give Gunnar pause. He opened his mouth to say something but then simply pressed his lips into a tight line and stared at her for a long moment. Priscilla felt her face go hot under his blue-eyed gaze and again tried not to think about the meaning behind that look. Knowing how he felt would just make things harder in the end.

"Erik will take the Walled City, and he will open the vault," Gunnar said to her in a low, concerned voice. "What happens when he opens it and the armor is not there? What will you do then? You came to us offering up this prize. We trusted you."

"I shared only what I knew. Everything was chaos when the north fell to the cultists, and some of the last news I received before fleeing across the sea was that Vincent abandoned his post with Apollyon's armor in his possession. It was all I had to work with to secure the help from a jarl. I am as surprised by this as you are, but we cannot give Erik a reason to call off the raid or go back on his word now." It was a poor excuse, but right then she was desperate enough to say anything to get him to listen.

Gunnar shook his head, narrowing his eyes at her. "It won't be that simple. Erik would never forgive a slight such as this. He would find a way to punish you. All of you. Even if it means killing every last man, woman, and child of Ashfeld housed within those walls."

That was most certainly the worst outcome possible in terms of what they had hoped to accomplish, and it made Priscilla wonder why they had ever thought to trust a bastard like Erik Golden-Shield in the first place. In many ways, dealing with him was just as bad as dealing with the disillusioned lords and ladies of Beaufort, who would always steer any situation toward their own benefit. But right now, she had to focus on the task at hand and make sure her mission never met such a grim fate. Stepping in closer, she slowly raised one hand and placed it against Gunnar's cheek, feeling the curling softness of his beard even through her glove.

"Please, Gunnar," she begged, "You have helped me more than I would have ever thought possible. Do not abandon me now."

He tensed under her touch, seemingly trapped between wanting to pull away or lean into her embrace. When he spoke, his voice was small and strained, barely a shadow of the typically courageous boom she was used to, as if he were in pain. "You want me to lie? To my brother?"

Priscilla took in a breath, her reply as soft and pleading as it needed to be. "I want you to do what you believe is right."

He looked at her, long and hard, his eyes opened to her beneath that horned helmet, while her own remained shadowed and hidden beneath her dark iron mask. It wasn't fair, and even as he looked up to Coal for guidance, she gently nudged him with her hand to bring him back to her. This moment could only be between them, and it had to end in her favor. One way or another, she had to win.

They stood so close that she could feel the warmth of his body coming off him. He was so close, and it would be so easy to make sure no one ever found out the truth of what had happened. Gunnar closed his eyes and dipped his head. Slowly, he lifted his hand to the necklace resting upon his chest, the little piece of metal fashioned into the hammer of his god, and squeezed it.

"Thor, forgive me," he muttered under his breath, letting go of the amulet and pressing her smaller hand tight against his cheek. His eyes opened, and he looked at her with a little smile, but underneath it, she could see how he suffered. She saw it because she knew she had caused it. Then, at last, he said, "I will help you."

Priscilla felt her throat go tight, and for a moment, she didn't know whether she should give thanks to the Lord or embrace her own damnation for this deception.

"Thank you," she whispered. She didn't know what else she could say, didn't know what else she could do to make up for the unseen wound she had just inflicted upon the man who had come to her rescue. "Thank you."

He squeezed her hand before letting it go, taking a backward step away toward the ladder. "War breeds dark deeds. I have cut down plenty of warriors in the past but never sought to put others before my own glory. If this is about saving people, then we will do what we must. I only hope that it will be worth it in the end." He gave her another smile but didn't seem to be able to put any more feeling behind it than before. "We make sure your people are safe from the Pyre, then we tell my brother about the armor and deal with Erik after. The Æsir have always been good to me. With any luck, we will keep their favor through all of this. I fear to think of what will happen if we don't."

Then he turned away from her, making his way down the ladder and slipping out of sight.

Priscilla let out a shuddering breath once he was gone, her body going slack as if she might fall to her knees. It had taken everything she'd had to keep herself strong in that moment, but it had been worth it just to let Gunnar walk away. And still, she could not shake the guilt for what she had just done.

Coal stepped up beside her, and for a moment, it seemed silent judgment would be all that existed between them until he finally spoke. "Priscilla, that was..." he started, but even then, he couldn't help but be stunned at the lengths she would go to see their mission complete. "That was something."

She turned to look at him, and he stared back.

"Are you good?" he asked softly.

"Of course," she lied. No hesitation, just like she had been trained. "Always."

Coal stared at her for another moment, then gave a small nod of his head before following Gunnar down the ladder and out of sight, leaving her alone in an empty room with a pile of bodies left in their wake.

Priscilla gritted her teeth, willing herself not to cry. "Dammit," she hissed, feeling the hot swell of tears stinging her eyes. "Dammit all."

Her fists shook as she clenched them, one held firmly at her side, still warm from the touch of Gunnar's cheek, and the other still gripping the small knife she held hidden behind her back.