Einar didn’t break Ragna’s gaze as the rune caster continued to sit silently on the other side of the fire, staring at him. For over ten minutes the man had been quiet, rubbing all of his limbs.

  “It appears the luck of the gods may be on our side,” Bartia stated as she returned from the wagons. “All the howling and noises stop at the treeline. Nothing appears to want to venture towards us even with all the available meat.”

  “Over eighty… how in the gods did we survive?” Jepi muttered, sipping the drink Thorve had given him. “I mean… we all know, but still.”

  Now everyone’s gaze was upon him, and Einar just smiled, gently massaging his wife’s head as she dozed on the ground next to where he sat.

  “You all seem to forget that each of you slayed some and our men are excited at how much experience they gained,” he replied. “Even those who died aren’t upset upon hearing the truth that we survived.”

  Running his hands through his loose brown hair, Vidar shifted on the log he shared with Jepi.

  “I’m going to ask something, and I know it’s been hinted at by many, but Einar… how?”

  Scanning the circle of leaders, he saw Thorve resting against Thorodd, her chest rising and falling, indicating she was asleep, worn out from injuries and healing. He saw his second in command nod.

  Even without Osvif here, I can’t help but wonder how many more times I will hear all this.

  “You all know of the rune I have in my head.”

  A scoff came from their bald runecaster.

  Everyone turned and saw the older man running his fingers along the tattoo that ran along most of his face.

  “Do not lie, please. I have been in this for a long time and seen many things, and you, Einar Sibbinson, are very different from anything I have ever witnessed.”

  As everyone sat there, watching Ragna frown, only the sounds of the creatures far away and the fire popping were heard.

  “You’re claiming a rune, advanced or not, has given you the ability to do what took me over ten years to learn, just a fraction of. While your control is far from perfect, the pool of wyrd you draw upon and the color of your fire show a focus many will never master. So do not lie to us. To do so is more of an insult than I think you can begin to imagine.”

  Slowly, he began to bob his head, and after taking a deep breath and running his finger along the curve of Avitue’s ear, he pinched it gently, feeling her stir.

  “Stop pretending and sit up, my love.”

  She chuckled and punched his leg as she adjusted herself, crossing her legs as she sat and winked at him.

  “I could never fool you.”

  Smiling, he shrugged and then turned his attention back to those gathered.

  Bartia had taken a seat on the log that was so large any Viking who sat on it outside of a few looked like a child with their legs dangling, unable to reach the ground. Her chain armor still had a few streaks of red and was not fully clean from the battle she had taken part in.

  Near her, Jepi sat beside Vidar, the pair of pack leaders leaning forward, eyes slightly wider than usual as they waited to hear what he might say. The man chosen to lead the pack from Unnulf shook his head, his red hair shifting around him and cascading against his hard, tanned and scarred skin. The tattoo on his face was partially hidden, but the shaft of a hammer was visible to Einar’s eye in this light.

  The other warrior on the log looked a little less intimidating. He was smaller than Jepi, but he was broader, and those brown eyes never missed picking out small details. Right now, they were locked on their leader.

  Even Thorodd sat there, the giant of a man, now content to have Thorve by his side, held his gaze. Those brown eyes seemed to almost shake in anticipation, having heard only small snippets of his power in rare moments.

  Then came Avitue’s firm squeeze on his arm as she leaned against him for a moment. She knew so much, and yet he still hadn’t told her the very secret he couldn’t seem to share. Each time he longed to tell her the truth, the rune he held, the life before, his mouth seemed to dry up, unable to form words as his tongue seemed to fail.

  Then there was the runecaster, a gift and also a trap. So much knowledge and wisdom were stored in the older man's mind, a true testament to Unnulf’s commitment to this path. From what Einar had learned from Jepi, the fact that the Jarl had sent what many considered one of the strongest and wisest fire users in the kingdom, outside of what the king had surprised even him. Brown eyes with a sparkle of wisdom and insight bored into him, trying to read whatever little clues might be given.

  “I’ll share what I can, Ragna, but know that like you, some things are kept secret for obvious reasons,” Einar replied, shifting slightly. “I would prefer this knowledge to be kept to this circle. The men and women outside of it do not need to know it. Do all of you agree to do so?”

  Coughing, their dwarf grimaced.

  “I might be asked what I know by those above me, and it would be difficult not to tell. I can make a promise to not blab it to every dwarf I meet, but there will be those whom I cannot hold back from.”

  Nodding, he shrugged.

  “There is no problem with that. I also know the others here will be asked by the ones above them for knowledge of what took place and what they learned about me. As such, I’ll trust each of you to use your wisdom to handle that request.”

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  A collective grunt or head bob was their response to his statement.

  “I know the rumors, and many believe I am touched by the gods, a chosen one.”

  Einar studied their reactions, seeing only a few like Vidar and Jepi show a slight facial twitch. Bartia almost openly scowled at those words.

  “Let me ask these questions, and then I’ll continue. What does it mean to be touched by the gods or a chosen one to you? Do the gods not touch all of you since you have received a boon while on this journey? Wouldn’t that mean each of you is thus deserving of that title?”

  “It’s not the same,” Vidar replied, answering before anyone else could. “You clearly do things far beyond any other Viking. Only a few stories of King Erik come close to what you have done.”

  Einar didn’t reply, instead waiting for the other two to answer.

  Finally, after a moment and a slight sigh, Ragna broke the stalemate.

  “You once again prove your wisdom by making it hard for us to claim something that many would say we are worthy of. Vidar points out that what you do and the songs we have heard speak of power far greater than any outside of legends and our king. Seeing how you fought tonight… proves that beyond a doubt.”

  Nodding, he looked at Jepi, who rolled his shoulders.

  “I hate you sometimes. Have I ever mentioned that?” the pack leader asked, getting a few chuckles that broke the mood for a moment. “While both men are right, I feel that you are correct, Einar. Had I not seen you fight, been around you on this journey or known of the songs the skalds sing about you, I would have believed Odin himself finds me to be a chosen one. Just getting a boon…”

  The large warrior sniffed, a bit of wetness forming in both eyes, and thick, rough fingers wiped away the damp moisture.

  “I would have believed I had somehow earned a place within the All-Father’s heart. Now, I feel like some red-headed stepchild.”

  Chuckles came again and even Einar couldn’t help but laugh at the hardened warrior’s comment.

  He turned to look at his wife who rolled her eyes.

  “Do not drag me into this discussion. You know how much I hate having to make you feel better about yourself by telling you how great you are compared to the rest of us.”

  Grinning, he leaned over and pulled her close, kissing her. After leaning back, he looked at his second in command.

  “You’re a bastard, you know that,” Thorodd muttered. “I’ve seen you charge a leuca ango, throwing yourself upon it, splitting one head in half almost while climbing another and bringing it down from the sky. Like today, I watched you wade through the undead, killing them and allowing us to retreat. I even remember you before you became famous, charging through a portal, dying to destroy it.”

  The entire time the warrior spoke, he used both hands, acting out part of the story he told. In the process, he woke up Thorve, who scowled for a moment, gazing upon people all watching the Viking she loved.

  “What in the gods are you all doing?” she asked.

  “Just telling how Einar poops gold coins,” Avitue replied.

  Everyone started to laugh, and their healer bobbed her head.

  “Oh well then, count me in on this. Never in my life have I seen a man so touched by the gods.”

  Einar groaned, unable to hold back as her last few words silenced everyone, instantly cutting off the smiles and chuckles.

  “It would appear you are once again called out,” Ragna stated. “How do you respond now?”

  Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly and sat upright.

  “I won’t lie, I’m touched by the gods.”

  Heads cocked sideways and a few frowns came as he sat there, silent for a moment, gazing into the fire.

  “For a while, I’ve been on a path I have never deviated from. I had a vision… a warning. All of you know what I believe. Not once have I hidden it, even when I spoke before King Erik. Ragnarok is coming, and we must be ready to help hold back the darkness that is coming.”

  One of the logs split in half, a shower of red and orange embers launched into the night sky, a loud popping sound filling the air.

  Everyone had taken their attention off him and focused on the distraction, and as they did, he rose to his feet.

  “When I asked for help, I told you what we would do. Some came for honor and glory. Many are here for the chance to get better runes. My real question is, why do any of those matter? What is the point of all these things if we do nothing but sit at home, drinking ale, getting fat and dying one day due to old age? Is that what the All-Father intended for Vikings?”

  “No,” Ragna replied. “We are called to hold back that which threatens the realms.”

  “And have we been doing that these last few years?”

  Grunts came and most shook their heads no.

  Bartia shifted on her log, frowning slightly.

  “What’s wrong? Do you disagree with what they have said?”

  She shook her head from side to side, still frowning and making her nose scrunch up.

  “I wish I could but now I realize that you are not wrong… which means so much of what I have believed is most likely also wrong. Even worse… if Ragnarok is coming and you are correct, we are in trouble.”

  “Because?”

  Bartia’s gaze fell upon Thorve, studying the healer and her sudden question.

  “I’ve heard the stories or rumors of what happened in Alfheim. To know those were true… and to see what is taking place in our own realm and to now have Vikings present and offering to help… I guess it means that Einar is right. Which as a woman is hard to accept.”

  Thorve and Avitue both broke out in laughter, bobbing their heads.

  “So you’re blessed by the gods because you have a quest?” Jepi asked, not letting the topic change.

  “I’ll say this,” Einar replied. “Walk the path the gods have put before you. What more will it take if their constant reminder through boons can’t convince you they chose you?”

  No one answered his last question, so he moved to the fire, knowing what he needed to do.

  Summoning his wyrd, his hand was engulfed with flames, moving up his whole arm and to his shoulder. Leaning forward, he grabbed a log covered in flames and pulled it free, holding it out to the others.

  “I can only do this because the path I am on is what the All-Father wishes me to be on. The people in my life are here because they too are on the path he desires you to be on.”

  Pointing the flaming log at Avitue, he smiled.

  “I have a wife I have desired since I was a teen, because of Odin.”

  Turning he pointed the log at Thorodd and then swept it around at everyone else.

  “For whatever reason, the All-Father chose you. Some by token, some by request, others because another believes in our path.”

  Tossing the log into the fire, he let the flames around his arm vanish.

  “Each of us is a chosen one. Each of us is touched. Call me whatever you want, but I won’t leave my path because this is what I was chosen for.”

  After speaking, he returned to where Avitue was and sat beside her.

  She leaned into his arm and smiled.

  “So much for me believing I had a choice in marrying you. Now I’ll just have to blame Odin for torturing me like this.”