Utgar’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. She was there, a small form huddled in a nest of blankets and furs. Runa hadn’t awoken. That was good. Utgar let the cloth divider fall back into place.

When Yiven had appeared earlier that night, Utgar had feared that his voice would wake Runa. But it hadn’t. Utgar had told Yiven to leave; the matter would be taken care of. Yiven had tried to protest, but upon further reflection, had seemed to decide leaving might be in his best interests.

Utgar returned to the front of the pavilion, where he sat down on one of the chairs the farmers had provided. Runa, he thought, staring at the ground. You deserve better. So much better. He had tried to give that to her. He had been trying ever since she had been born. Why did it have to be so hard?

She didn’t like staying here, hidden away in this tent. Utgar knew that. But what could he do? Let her wander Helsng? The city was on the brink of revolt. If it weren’t for the insurance of the Wellspring in the keep, he would never have even come here in the first place.

Had he made the wrong decision? Should he have simply trusted the Empire from the start? He shook his head at the idea. They had imprisoned them all in the Volcarren. They had fought hard to keep them there. No, the only reason the Empire was cooperating at all was because Utgar could wipe them off the face of the world if he wanted to. Utgar needed to be near that Wellspring. Just in case.

“My Lord Utgar?” Dered’s head appeared at the tent entrance. “Kran is here.”

Utgar nodded, and Dered pulled the tent flap open, letting Kran enter.

Utgar had seen the Volcarren only a few times, and then only in passing. He had forgotten just how large he was. He was a good half a head taller than Utgar, and Utgar himself was taller than most. Utgar stood, attempting to shorten the height difference as much as possible.

“Kran,” Utgar said. “I trust you can guess why you are here?”

“I have an idea, Valkyrie,” Kran said evenly.

“You challenged the Empire. You interfered in their business. Yiven himself came to me not long ago, demanding that I punish you in some way.”

Kran was silent. He stood stiffly, staring at a point somewhere above Utgar’s head, his massive arms at his sides. Utgar noted that he carried a bone-axe, tied to his waist with a simple rope.

“I have no intention of punishing you,” Utgar said. “Yiven has no place demanding such things, and I told him exactly that. The Volcarrens are my responsibility.”

“Then why am I here?” Kran said, still staring above Utgar.

“Because I want to talk to you,” Utgar said. “Sit down,” he added, gesturing at another chair nearby. “We aren’t an army, and you aren’t a soldier.”

Kran glanced at the chair, and then sat. Utgar sat as well, noting as did so that the chair looked too small for Kran.

“You’ve put me in a difficult position,” Utgar said. “You realize that, don’t you?”

“I do,” Kran said, his voice measured. “But the position the Empire put Leran and Nya in was more difficult. Respectfully.”

“Perhaps,” Utgar said. “But it still wasn’t your place to interfere.”

“Wasn’t it?” Kran said, finally meeting Utgar’s eyes. “Valkyrie, we won our freedom because we were willing to stand up to the Empire. I won’t now let that same Empire hurt these people, not when we can do something about it.”

Utgar frowned. “I too sympathize with these people,” he said, “and I would help them if I could. But we have to consider the future. If we are to have peace, we have to stay out of this conflict. I don’t like that – I doubt any of us do – but we can’t risk a war.”

“Why?” Kran said bluntly. He watched Utgar for a moment. “You are a Valkyrie,” he said. “You would win any war.”

Utgar had expected that argument. “I don’t fear winning or losing,” he said. “I fear the war itself. We need a future, Kran, not endless conflict.”

“A future?” Kran repeated. “Valkyrie, what kind of future do you think we can have? Do you know what the Volcarrens want? What they expect to happen? I want peace as well, but I don’t think we’ll have it. Not this way.”

Utgar frowned. “What do you mean?” he said. “What is it that the Volcarrens want?”

Kran shrugged. “It differs,” he said. “Some want war. They hate the Empire and are ready for a fight. They’ll take any excuse – including the oppression of the Empire – to start one.

“Some few want peace. They’re tired of conflict, and are ready to make lives for themselves, here or in Haukeland. But they fear the Empire. They think that as long as the Empire remains, it will be a threat to them. Many of them also sympathize with the people here, and don’t wish to leave them to the Empire. They see war as necessary.”

“And you?” Utgar said. “You don’t strike me as a warmonger or one interested only in peace.”

“No,” Kran agreed. “I feel that most Volcarrens are like me – in the middle. We have no particular desire for war, but we also feel that we owe these people. They’ve given us food and shelter, and now it’s our turn to help them.” He leaned forwards. “This oppression of the Empire is wrong,” he said. “It has to end. I don’t want war, but neither am I afraid of it.”

Utgar was silent for a time. Hearing it from Kran, he realized: he should have paid more attention to those who followed him. He should have taken the time to understand what they wanted, and how they might react to the Empire. By bringing them here, he had put them in direct contact with those many of them considered mortal enemies.

Had he been a fool? Perhaps. But he still needed to be near the Wellspring. That hadn’t changed. What was done was done – he doubted the Volcarrens would leave now even if he asked them to. From what he had seen, many of them – like Kran – were too invested in the fates of the farmers here.

No, the only thing he could do now was wait. Wait and hope.

“I appreciate your words,” he said to Kran. “But we can’t have war. Our best hope is Haukeland. We must continue to wait for the scouts to return, and then leave.” Haukeland might have been a ploy of the Empire’s, but it was still their best chance for a deal.

“And if their report is unfavorable?” Kran asked.

“I don’t know,” Utgar admitted. “For right now, we must avoid getting involved. The Empire has every right to demand that we stay out of things; more involvement will only make this unrest worse.”

He glanced at Kran. “You seem to know the Volcarrens better than I do,” he said after a moment. “How would you ensure peace?”

Kran looked at him for a moment, his expression hard to read. “I’m not sure that we can,” he finally said. “Truthfully, I’m not even sure that we should.” He paused. “Many will want to stay and help these people,” he said. “Even if the scouts do return from Haukeland with favorable reports. I count myself among them. It’s the right thing to do, Valkyrie,” he added.

For a moment, they watched each other. Utgar considered Kran’s words. For a brief, terrible minute, he considered them. He was a Valkyrie. He could demand anything he wanted of the Empire. He could help all these people. And what then? He wasn’t invincible. The Empire could slip a knife between his ribs while he slept, or harm Runa. He couldn’t take that risk.

“No,” he said standing. “I can’t risk war.”

Kran stood as well, watching him.

“I’m sorry,” Utgar said. “I really am. I want to help these people, but we need peace. All of us. Go back to the Volcarrens, and tell them that no action is to be taken against the Empire which might lead to war.”

Kran was silent for a moment. “What of Leran?” he said. “If the Empire executes him, there may be nothing even you can do to prevent a war. You could demand that he be released. Prevent a war, if you aren’t willing to start one.”

Utgar shook his head. “If I did that, I would be siding against the Empire. I can’t interfere, Kran. I’m sorry.”

Kran nodded slowly. “I will take your words back to the other Volcarrens,” he said. “But I feel that this war is coming whether we interfere or not. When it does… You may need to interfere, Utgar. You may not have a choice.”

Then he turned, and left.

Utgar sat back down. What Kran had said was true. The execution of Leran could easily cause a riot, and a riot could start a full-scale rebellion. And yet if Utgar interfered as he knew he could – the Empire would have no choice but to follow the demands of a Valkyrie – might he not start the same thing? The Volcarrens would be emboldened, the Empire would fear what he might do next… No, he had to stay uninvolved. It was the only way. But still… was it the right choice?