I feel a familiar pressure returning. We had been too far away for our bonded kraft to connect us, but as the days went on I can feel Sigourney more than I could before. I can feel her calling to me. Pain spikes in my skull. She’s desperate. She’s afraid. I move from the deck’s railing, feeling like I might fall over the edge. My vision has already begun to waver, the pain in my head forcing me to stagger.
The deck changes. I’m in Sigourney’s chamber of Herregård Sten. Sigourney hasn’t been harmed, but she tells me that she’s in danger. She prepares to leave Niklasson Helle, not by choice. She’d already left once, nearly a week before when she couldn’t contact me but had a message she needed to share. It was a message that would affect the outcome of this revolution. She wondered why she couldn’t reach me, why she couldn’t feel me in the same way that she could before. She realizes the answer as she can see me as clearly as I see her. She sees how I’d left the islands for the northern empires and realizes that the distance between us created too far a strain on our bond. But she had not realized this before. She thought I was dead. She was afraid that an assassin had managed to be sent from Niklasson Helle without her knowledge and without her having a chance to warn me. She was genuinely worried—felt she had failed not only me but the revolution. Days passed without any certainty of what had happened to me, or whether the islanders continued to hold Hans Lollik Helle. She’d been trapped on the island with nothing but her spiraling thoughts and fears. She needed me if she was to ultimately survive the Fjern. If we did not win this war, then she would have no one to turn to. She’d be at the mercy of the kongelig.
Several nights ago, there came a moment when she finally couldn’t take the fear anymore. She decided she would leave Niklasson Helle and arrive on Hans Lollik Helle herself to find me, Marieke—anyone—and learn what’d happened. Marieke had always taught her to have patience, but without the woman’s guiding hand and no one around her but enemies, Sigourney had difficulty remembering this advice. She waited until night, when she knew Kalle would be asleep. The man had eventually relented to allowing her privacy as she slept at night, and stood guard outside of her door instead—but even he could not stand awake through the night. She opened the single window and climbed into the brush, the thick of the gardens, sneaking through the shadows and running for the bay, where boats were in lines on the sand. Coming to Niklasson Helle was easy: She got into a boat, which drifted on the currents until she was captured by the Fjern and brought to Niklasson Helle as a prisoner. She would be going against the tide for a journey that would last days, and it was more likely that her boat would capsize and she would drown. It was lucky, then, that Kalle found her.
“Elskerinde Jannik,” he said. She’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn’t paid enough attention to her surroundings or the possibility that she’d been followed. Kalle had been asleep when she left her room, yes, but he had always been a light sleeper. The window opening made the slightest sound that had him on his feet. He knocked to no response, so went inside and saw that Sigourney had disappeared through the open window. He followed her silently, curious to know what it was she planned to do. Part of Kalle expected to see her sneak toward the slaves’ quarters, to join a meeting of slaves and discuss their plans to revolt. But coming here to the bay and the line of boats, the answer was clear.
“Where did you hope to go?” he asked her. He hadn’t bothered to take her arms and force her to march back to the manor. He knew that she could overpower him with her kraft. He knew that she could take control of his body at any moment and force him to hurt himself, kill himself, if she insisted on escaping. Sigourney did consider this for a moment, but she knew that attacking Kalle would also take away options for survival. His murder and her disappearance would make it obvious that she had attacked the man assigned to guard her. The Fjern would realize that she’d escaped the island, and she wouldn’t be able to return to Niklasson Helle so easily. If the islanders did not accept her, not without her purpose as a spy, she would have nowhere to turn. Yes, keeping Kalle alive meant she had more chances to live.
He walked her back to Herregård Sten and called on the guards, who alerted their masters. Sigourney knew the Fjern wouldn’t be happy to be woken at such an hour. Herre Niklasson had grown bored with her, not necessarily wasting the time in looking for an excuse to be rid of her but open to any reason if it were to cross his path. The man was brought forward to the main courtroom of the manor. He hadn’t bothered to change out of his sleeping shirt and pants. It was too late in the night to care about appearances. Other kongelig who arrived had dressed quickly for the emergency calling. Jytte Solberg was there. She hadn’t bothered to tie a lace ribbon around her neck, and the purple scar wrapped around her throat like a rope. Gertrude Nørup was there as well, smoothing her hair back uncomfortably. Aksel had come as well. He’d been awake anyway, drinking rum alone in his room, and he found her possible execution to be potential entertainment, just as pleasurable as it’d been to share his bed with Sigourney over the past weeks.
Lothar began the questioning without ceremony. “Why were you attempting to leave my island?” he asked her.
And she told him the truth. “I was attempting to contact Løren Jannik. I’ve lost touch with him, and I’m not sure if he’s dead.”
Aksel had startled at the mention of my name, though he didn’t show the surprise that ripped through him except for the flicker of a glance.
“Why did you feel the need to attempt to leave this island in the dead of night? If you were truly speaking for the side of the Fjern and the kongelig, you could have come to me to express your concern.”
“I can’t be sure what will happen to me once I’m no longer useful. If Løren Jannik is dead, then so is your need for me.”
“Let’s be clear,” Lothar said. “We don’t need you.”
She bowed her head to mimic deference. “Yes, of course. I only meant that I was eager to learn the state of Løren and the insurgency, so I planned to leave.”
Lothar eyed Sigourney carefully. “Had you still been in close communication with the boy before his disappearance?”
“Yes.”
“What was the nature of your conversation? What was the last thing you spoke of?”
Sigourney couldn’t fight his kraft. She had to admit that she’d warned me and my guards not to attack Jannik Helle. And she also went on to say that it was a warning she had given, not for the sake of the revolution as she had told me, but for the sake of the Fjern.
“Your mistake is that you continue to underestimate the islanders,” Sigourney told Lothar. “You don’t believe me. You would have waited on Jannik Helle for them to arrive, thinking that your number of men and weaponry would overpower them and finally end the spread of the insurgency, but your men do not have the passion and fire of the people fighting for their homes and their lives and their freedoms. The slaves would have won the battle, even severely outnumbered, even without your weapons. You have not seen Løren Jannik with a blade. I have. I’ve seen him cut down dozens of men who stood in his path, and the commander of the guards, Malthe, is also difficult to defeat. The two together are unstoppable. I lied to Løren, warning him that the battle of Jannik Helle would not have been in the favor of the islanders. He believed me and retreated.”
She tells me that this was a lie. She wants me to see that she’d managed to trick Lothar, because there was an element of truth in what she told him. It is true that we are an unstoppable force, and that we could have in fact beat the Fjern. But it’s impossible to speak a lie to the man—impossible to trick him. It makes me wonder. Makes me think that, after everything, maybe Malthe had been right all along. Sigourney has managed to trick me into believing her, into giving her chance after chance, exploiting my constant hope that she will change.
“If this is true,” Jytte Solberg said of Sigourney keeping us away from Jannik Helle, “then why hadn’t Elskerinde Jannik told you this before? She does not waste any oppor
tunity to prove that she’s on the side of the kongelig and Fjern to save herself from the gallows.”
Lothar looked to Sigourney expectantly, waiting for her response.
“And when would I have told you such a thing?” Sigourney asked. “I’m ignored here at court, mocked and isolated and left to my chambers with my guardsman following and watching my every move. It isn’t so easy to ask for a meeting with you, Herre Niklasson.”
Jytte rolled her eyes. “If Elskerinde Jannik had truly wanted to, she would’ve found a way.”
Lothar agrees that this is a fact. Sigourney could see that the man already thought this meeting had gone on long enough—that he was moments from declaring he’d rather be rid of her and asking Kalle to take her head. She was desperate.
“I can prove myself to you. I can prove that I’m on the side of the kongelig. The islanders can’t keep control of these lands. They don’t have the ability.”
“She’s had more than enough chances.”
“Allow me a chance to prove myself to you,” she said. “I can give you something that you need.”
Sigourney could see that Lothar’s interest was piqued. He was curious to hear what she would suggest. He wasn’t disappointed by the idea that she presented. She’d hesitated, afraid of the words that she knew she had to force from her mouth—afraid to make the offer when she’d have to follow through. “Allow me to lead a battle against the islanders.”
Jytte Solberg laughed, and Gertrude followed, as she always did with Jytte. Aksel squinted at Sigourney, unwilling to believe she’d managed to find a way out of this. Disappointed, because he thought that she might have. He looked at Lothar, hoping that the man would realize that she was only trying to save herself, that she didn’t care for the kongelig or the Fjern—but Lothar shifted in his seat, eyeing Sigourney.
He’d needed more commanders. The commanders were meant to be members of the kongelig, but no one on his island was willing to potentially sacrifice themselves for this war. They spoke of the necessity to win the islands back for the Koninkrijk Empire, but it seemed no one was willing to do the work, only speak about it. The other kongelig were cowards, and Lothar Niklasson could not be everywhere at once, commanding each and every single one of the Fjern guards of these lands.
Jytte Solberg was the only member who was willing to command, but he declared he wanted her leadership here at Herregård Sten. The truth was that he didn’t trust her with his guards. It would be too easy for her to take the guards to Solberg Helle, to attack his island and take control. She stayed where Lothar could keep an eye on her, and he continued to attempt to persuade the kongelig to risk their lives and lead the attacks. Sigourney Rose couldn’t be trusted. A fool would be able to see that. But she did offer something Lothar needed: a kongelig willing to go to battle, no matter how unskilled she may be. And as she said, it would be a fine opportunity for Lothar to see with his own eyes whether Sigourney Rose would truly be willing to betray her own people for the sake of the Fjern.
When Lothar nodded his assent, Jytte stopped laughing.
“You must be joking,” she said to him, forgetting any pretense of respect she might’ve had for the man.
“Why would I be, Elskerinde Solberg?”
“You can’t trust Sigourney Rose.”
“Jannik,” Sigourney tried to interrupt. Aksel shook his head at the mention of his name, but Jytte responded.
“You may be married to that fool,” she said without bothering to look at Aksel, “but you are first and foremost a Rose, which we would all do good to remember. You are the daughter of Mirjam Rose. You came to Hans Lollik Helle for revenge.” She turned to Lothar. “And now you mean to hand this snake the control of your guards.”
Lothar appraised Jytte silently, waiting for her to go on.
“Beyond that,” Jytte said, “is the fact that Sigourney Rose has no ability to lead a battle. She’s had no experience commanding guardsmen. None would survive an attack with her at the helm. You will be wasting your men.”
“She can’t be trusted, this is true,” Lothar admitted. “But perhaps this is a moment that could prove otherwise. As for your second point, Sigourney will have the experience of guardsmen with leadership on her side. Kalle,” he said, “will join the battle as well.”
Kalle had stood against the wall at the back of the room, overlooked and ignored as he was used to. He showed no emotion or reaction to this news, though internally Sigourney could see that he wasn’t surprised. Before being pulled from his duties to follow Sigourney like a lost dog, he’d been one of the top guardsmen of Niklasson Helle, on the path to becoming a commander on Malthe’s level, though an islander never truly had much power, no matter what the Fjern declared. Kalle knew this as well as anyone else, but it was still a position he had yearned for and worked for, ready to play this game of the Fjern and the kongelig. He’d been frustrated in what he saw as a demotion, watching over Sigourney, though she could see that Kalle had been chosen by Lothar because the man was one of the few islanders Herre Niklasson could trust.
“She will have help,” Lothar continued, “and besides that, she does have her kraft. Though it pains me to admit as much as it does any of us, Elskerinde Jannik’s ability is powerful. It’d be helpful on the battlefield. She should be able to sense the plans of the enemy, help in controlling their movements and attacks.”
“I’ll admit that she’s powerful,” Jytte said with a cracked voice, “but she isn’t so powerful that her kraft would allow her to win a battle.”
And Sigourney could see that this was a risk Lothar was willing to take—not only because it was a test, but because if she didn’t manage to survive, then he would also be rid of a problem that’d been plaguing him. He was interested to see if she would go to battle for the kongelig, eager for a commander to take the guardsmen and attack an island of the north—but he would be just as satisfied to hear the news that she had been killed.
Lothar allowed the barest of smiles. “I suppose we’ll have to see.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Sigourney readies herself in her chambers. She doesn’t wear her usual dress of white. She wears a shirt and pants as Jytte Solberg sometimes would with riding boots, her thick hair pinned to her head. It’ll be easier to travel to Årud and then Nørup Helle, she lets me know.
This is where Lothar Niklasson has ordered her to go. Because I ordered the retreat from Larsen Helle, it’ll be easy to bypass the island and sail north to Årud Helle. Anke, Helga, and all the rest of the islanders who had evacuated Hans Lollik Helle will be in danger of the attack. She’ll arrive with her ships of guardsmen, courtesy of Jytte Solberg under the orders of Herre Niklasson. These are far more guards than have ever been sent to battle. “It’s because I’ve warned them so many times that we underestimate the insurrection,” she says. “Lothar wants to be sure that we don’t underestimate this battle, especially with me leading.”
I can feel the fear in Sigourney like it’s a living creature that’s crawled beneath her skin. She’s realized the source of this fear as well as I have. Jytte Solberg has been using her kraft on Sigourney for weeks, slowly building that fear until it’s become a constant level of panic. It’s something that Sigourney can’t control. She tries to breathe, to close her eyes and think through the fear, to realize that it isn’t her own and that Jytte attempts to control her in order to sabotage her. This doesn’t help as Sigourney hoped it would. She wishes she could meet with me—not only through our kraft, our bond, but in person. If we did, then I’d have the ability to block Jytte’s power over her, though I’m not so convinced that all of the fear in Sigourney is there by Jytte’s hand.
This wish is why Sigourney is pained saying what she feels she must. “You can’t come anywhere near Årud Helle,” she says. “I was ordered to destroy the island. I was told to kill everyone, it doesn’t matter who. They’ll all be dead in a few days’ time. Lothar expects me to burn the island completely.”
The numbe
r of guards being sent, when there are so few defending the island—the fact that it’s Sigourney, and she must prove her loyalty… I’m disgusted. Not only by Lothar Niklasson and the kongelig, but by Sigourney herself.
“And you mean to actually go through with this?”
She’s surprised by my reaction. “Yes, of course. You do see that I don’t have any choice, don’t you?”
“This is the lie you continue to tell yourself. Yes, you do have a choice not to lead a battle to an island and slaughter your own people.”
“If I don’t do as Lothar has asked, then he’ll deem me an emissary and have me killed.”
“Then be killed,” I tell her. She’s shocked into silence. “If that’s the choice you have to make, choose the lives of your people—hundreds of innocents—over your own. Don’t lead this battle, Sigourney.”
The pause is long. She’s angry with me—hurt, that I would say she should be willing to die so easily. To her, it means that I don’t care whether she lives or dies. When it comes to this choice, she’s right. “If I don’t do this,” she says, “someone else will. If it means keeping my life, then it might as well be me.”
I’m not sure what to do or say to convince her not to move forward. She takes advantage of my silence.
“Besides,” she tells me, “you have a choice as well.”
I frown, understanding what she means—yet I still have to hear her speak the words herself. I can’t believe she would be so bold to say it aloud. “What choice is that?”
Surrender.
She wants me to surrender—to abandon the uprising.
“You won’t win, Løren,” she says. “I can see that truth in you as easily as you see any truth in me. You won’t win. You definitely won’t win this battle of Årud Helle. Give up. Surrender, and save the lives of hundreds. You’re angry at me for leading a battle to Årud Helle, but what of you? Choosing to revolt has cost the lives of innocents, too.”
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