Chapter 21: Surrender

The cheers from the crowd became the roar of the wind, and the tournament grounds shifted before her eyes into an endless plain of snow. The group of festival knights became a horde of Norse warriors. Siannon’s blood turned as cold as the sudden winter as she saw her old nemesis, Jarl Thorsten, alive again, still wearing the wolf’s head helmet, still determined to capture and torture Siannon.

Llanfyllin had disappeared; she was back in the canyon that served as the secret passage through the mountains where Siannon had led the people of Macnylleth to safety after the Norse invasion. There were no people this time, only her, and the Norse were closing.

Siannon knew this wasn’t real, but she couldn’t count on it being a dream, either. Clearly magic was involved, but the source and intention of the spell remained a mystery. Whatever this experience was, surrender was the last thing on her mind. She had killed Thorsten thirty years before, and by any means available, she would do it again.

Her main obstacle was the lack of any weapon, not even a dagger. She was a strong woman, but also now an old woman, and she suspected this phantom Thorsten would be as strong as he was in life. If the geography was consistent, however, there was a trap at the end of the canyon that would send piles of boulders crashing upon the Norse. The only question was whether she was still fast enough to outrun them.