The next morning, Taelord convinced G’shar to go to Utgar. Healing was one of the abilities granted by Wellspring water, and though G’shar’s injury wasn’t deep, he had lost a lot of blood. G’shar was hesitant; he didn’t want to put Utgar in the position of healing someone the Empire had attacked – sanctioned or not. However, Syafa fixed him with a flat stare, and he relented.

Rehs, Veth, and Scar-shoulder came as well. None were seriously injured, but Taelord was fairly certain Rehs had broken a rib, and Scar-shoulder’s skin resembled a black and red patchwork quilt.

It had not been a pleasant night when they returned, beaten and bloodied, Utgar’s guards having escorted them back before leaving. Syafa and Aiiva had begun tending to their injuries, and Taelord had replaced his sword in the storeroom where he slept. He had returned to the main room to find G’shar frowning at Veth and Scar-shoulder.

“If you want to join Einar in his rebellion,” he had said, “then fine. It is not my place to interfere. However, while you remain beneath this roof, I will ask that you keep my son out of your war.”

Veth had nodded silently.

Fera had been there, sitting at the table, saying nothing. She was there in the morning as well, and she neither looked at Taelord nor spoke to him. Taelord frowned. He hadn’t forgotten the things she had said, about joining the Empire, or seeking safety from Utgar. He would need to talk to her. But not now. Perhaps later, once G’shar and the others were healed.

Taelord volunteered to accompany them to Utgar’s pavilion. He didn’t need to – they all knew where the tent was, and he was completely uninjured. But what he had seen last night – Volcarren against soldier – it had made the war real to him. It was happening. The rebels were here. The unrest wasn’t just angry glares and harsh words anymore. It was real, present, dangerous. Taelord had known that of course, but somehow being suddenly confronted with it in the darkness like that… it had changed things.

It scared him. He didn’t like to admit it, but it was true. Why should a thing like that scare him? He had seen plenty of fights. He had been in plenty of fights. But somehow… this was different, and he was worried.

And that was why he decided to go to Utgar’s pavilion. Not to see the Valkyrie, but to see Runa. She might be naïve and even blind, but… after last night, Taelord could use some of her endless optimism.

The Maze seemed tense to Taelord – many doors were open to the morning air, allowing him to see dark looks and whispered conversations over hurried morning meals. The streets were mostly empty, the few people they passed hurrying by without speaking.

It didn’t take them long to reach Utgar’s pavilion, and they weren’t the only ones seeking his services. A small knot of people had formed outside the tent entrance, Volcarren guards blocking their way. As Taelord watched, one of the assembled kyrie – a burly fisher with his arm in a makeshift sling – was allowed to enter the tent.

“He only started yesterday,” Veth said, nodding to the knot of people. “Healing. I think he kept from doing it because he didn’t want to look like he was taking sides, but… well, he seems to have changed his mind.”

Taelord wondered at that. Utgar had been so careful not to provoke the Empire, and now… Looking around, he saw a handful of guards, spread out at the edges of the intersection, all watching the pavilion and the people waiting to be healed, many with frowns. They didn’t interfere, but they gripped their weapons tightly.

One of Utgar’s guards approached them. “Veth,” he said, nodding to him. He glanced at Taelord. “No further injuries, I trust? Everyone still in one piece?”

Veth scowled at the ground.

“Thank you for your help last night,” Taelord said. Dered had been one of the guards who had flown with him to retrieve Rehs and the others.

Dered shrugged, frowning. “Given my way, I would have chased the soldiers down and taught them a lesson. But… I know Utgar wants us to maintain peace.” He shook his head. “Some day he’ll have to realize that’s impossible.”

“Is Runa here?” Taelord asked. “I would speak with her, if I can.”

“She’s here,” Dered said, appraising him hesitantly. “But I wouldn’t be seen talking to her, Taelord. If she so much as leaves the pavilion, Utgar starts thinking the worst. He’ll probably suspect you of being an Imperial assassin here to kill her.”

Taelord shrugged. “His opinion of me can’t get much worse. Just tell her?”

Dered frowned, but turned and made his way to the pavilion.

Taelord watched him go. There had been a time, not that long ago, when no Volcarren would have spoke that way about Utgar, least of all Dered. The Volcarrens wanted war, and Utgar wanted peace. Had that rift finally grown too wide? Was the Valkyrie losing his army? Was that even possible?

G’shar, Rehs, and the others joined the knot of people outside the pavilion, and a moment later, Runa appeared in the tent entrance. She saw Taelord, and walked over to him. Taelord was so used to her flying everywhere – as if she couldn’t get places fast enough – that sight of her walking surprised him. She stopped in front of him, looking him up and down.

“I thought it was dangerous to be wandering around Helsng,” she remarked.

Taelord raised an eyebrow. “I had company.”

She smiled. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “It gets so dreary in that tent, people worrying about everything, speaking in whispers. At least Father’s healing people now. That adds some variety.”

Taelord glanced at the knot of waiting kyrie. “I’m surprised he is,” he said.

Runa glanced at them too, frowning. “Yes… I had to convince him to do it,” she said. “He didn’t want to, but… this was the least we could do. We needed to repay these people somehow for everything they gave us.”

Taelord found himself agreeing. These people needed healing, and Utgar could provide it. Still, a shred of worry nagged at him. “What about the Empire, though?” he said. “What will they think?”

“Hopefully that we’re here to help people, and not start a war.”

Veth exited the tent, his various bruises vanished, a grin splitting his face. Taelord saw his eyes flick to the nearest guard – who looked like he could use Utgar’s services himself – and his grin widened.

“I don’t know that the Empire will see the difference,” he said, looking around at the Imperial guards. Every one of them wore looks appropriate to being punched in the face and told they couldn’t retaliate. For many, this wasn’t far from the truth.

Things weren’t helped by Scar-shoulder, who emerged from the tent with Kran, both healed completely. Veth joined them, and they left the tent together, laughing and pointing at the nearby guards.

They passed close to Taelord, and he could hear some of what they said:

“He was in the alley,” Scar-shoulder was saying, watching a nearby guard. “I saw him.” He flexed his healed arm experimentally. “Next time…”

Kran frowned, and Veth glanced at him.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it, Kran,” Veth said. “I saw you. You were better than any of us. Had that guard on the ground before he knew what had hit him.”

Kran shook his head, but Taelord saw that he was smiling.

They left, disappearing in the maze of houses, heading in the direction of G’shar’s home. Runa watched them go, and even after they were hidden from sight, she continued to look at where they had vanished, silent, all hint of a smile gone.

“You… You alright?” Taelord finally asked after she had gone nearly a full minute without speaking.

“Yes,” she said, turning to him. “I just…” She shook her head. “I didn’t expect that of Kran. I know some Volcarrens want war, but Kran… he came to Father, before. He seemed to understand. To want peace. He said he wanted peace.”

She looked away. Taelord watched her for a moment. Maybe Kran did want peace, but he was also ready to stand up for the farmers. He didn’t fear war as Utgar seemed to. If it came, he would join it. Welcome it, even.

“I’m sorry, Runa,” he said.

She glanced at him. “For what?”

“For… I know how much you wanted this to work. For us to live our lives away from the Volcarren, without war and conflict… I know, I did too. And now…”

Another Volcarren emerged from the tent, casting aside the sling his arm had been in, glaring triumphantly at the soldiers as he passed.

Runa watched him go. “No,” she whispered. “No… you’re right. They are ready for war.” She was silent for a moment, watching the knot of people. “They want war.”

She shook her head, and then began walking away slowly, her eyes on the ground.

Taelord watched her uncertainly for a moment, and then followed. “Where are you going?” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

She shrugged. “Not far. I just… want to get away. From the soldiers, the other Volcarrens even… just for a moment.”

But… Utgar wouldn’t want her out of sight of the tent. Taelord glanced back, but no one was paying attention. Utgar’s guards were either dealing with the knot of kyrie asking for healing, or watching the Imperials with tense postures.

Runa glanced at him, perhaps guessing what he was thinking. “You can stay with me, if you want,” she said. “Then I won’t be ‘wandering Helsng alone.’”

She gave the ghost of a smile, but Taelord frowned. He could guess Utgar’s reaction if he found out Runa had left the tent without a guard. And if he learned Taelord had been there… well, his anger was likely to be worse, not better.

Runa turned and continued walking away, slowly approaching a side street between two homes. Taelord watched her for a moment, doubts swirling in his mind. Then he silenced them and went after her.

They were silent for a time, walking side by side, the houses they passed equally quiet. No one saw them. No one passed them. The streets were empty.

Taelord glanced covertly at Runa. He had rarely seen her so… deflated. The only time close had been once in Vraen’s camp, after an attack by Ahnvad. She had said she wanted to get away then too, from the fighting, from the Wellspring. She had been Valkyrie then, and Taelord had been surprised. How could anyone not want to be a Valkyrie?

“I was wrong,” she said, so quietly that she might have been speaking to herself.

“Wrong?” Taelord echoed.

She glanced at him, before turning her eyes back to the dirt road. “Wrong about the people here,” she said. “And about the other Volcarrens. I knew some of them wanted to fight the Empire, but I thought most of them… I convinced myself they wanted peace. I really thought they did.”

“Some do,” Taelord said quietly. “… I do.”

She stopped and looked at him, and Taelord was surprised to see that there were tears on her face. Only two, rolling slowly down her cheeks.

She gave him a faint smile. “You tried to tell me,” she said. “You said war was inevitable. You said it would happen.”

“It hasn’t happened yet,” Taelord said. “Maybe… Maybe it won’t.”

A small laugh escaped her. “You are telling me that war might not happen?” She smiled, but shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “It’s coming. I’ve known it for a while I think, but I just… didn’t want to admit it.”

“We can still have peace,” Taelord said, putting a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Maybe the rebellion happens, but we don’t have to be involved.” He paused for a fraction of a second. “You, me, Utgar, my mother… we can escape. Leave. Go to Haukeland… anywhere. What’s going to happen here will happen, but we don’t have to be a part of it.”

Runa looked at him, silent.

Taelord was uncomfortably aware of her eyes looking into his. They were light brown. They seemed too light for the Volcarren.

“Maybe,” she said, finally looking away. “Yes… maybe Father will leave. He only came here because of the Wellspring, but if the rebels arrive… he won’t stay in the middle of a war.” She glanced back at him. “Maybe we can leave. Go to Haukeland, wherever we want.”

She gave him a quick hug. “Thank you,” she whispered, before letting him go, and resuming her slow pace down the street.

Taelord watched her for a moment, and then caught up, watching her. She was smiling now, her step light, her head up. The old Runa was back. Just like that. Taelord shook his head, smiling to himself. What he wouldn’t give to cast aside his worries that easily.

Still, he had meant what he said. The war was going to happen. He believed that now. But those who wanted peace – him and Runa, their parents – they could escape it. True, the scouts hadn’t returned from Haukeland yet, but they could go elsewhere. Valhalla had to be full of unexplored or deserted lands they could settle in.

They rounded a corner, and Taelord’s thoughts were driven from his mind. They pulled up short, Taelord instinctively putting a hand before Runa.

Two of Einar’s rebels, easily distinguished by their leather half-masks and worn clothing, were standing in the street, half a stones-throw away. Between them, slumped against the wall of a house, was a southern kyrie Taelord didn’t immediately recognize.

“On your feet, Geren,” one of the rebels said, pulling the kyrie up against the house. “Vermin like you deserve no rest. At least the Imperials are doing their duty. But you… you’re a traitor to your own people.”

Geren. The bounty hunter who had captured Leran. He had been in the alley with Rehs as well. Now Taelord remembered – when he and Utgar’s guards had arrived in the alley, Geren had been beating one of Einar’s rebels. He had been using his sword.

“This is a little repayment,” one of the rebels said, “for the gifts you gave our friends last night.” He slammed his fist into Geren’s stomach, and the kyrie doubled over, falling back to the ground.

It was clear the rebels had been at it for a while. Geren’s face was bruised, and Taelord saw him coughing blood onto the dirt of the road.

“Get up,” the other rebel said, kicking Geren lazily. “Or would you prefer us to finish it?” He unhooked his axe from his belt.

“Not yet,” the other rebel said. He raised his foot, and stamped on Geren’s back, causing him to fall flat. Then he knelt, and raised a fist.

“Stop!” Runa shouted. Taelord glanced at her – except she wasn’t there. She had moved so fast that he had never seen her, leaping through the air like an arrow, wings flared just enough to keep her aloft. She landed right behind the rebel, and – Taelord rushed to stop her but was nowhere near close enough – grabbed his arm to prevent him from striking Geren.

The rebel didn’t even turn around. He backhanded Runa across the face without even looking at her.

Runa staggered backwards and actually fell – though she seemed more surprised than hurt – landing on her back in the dirt.

The rebel spun – Taelord could tell some sort of training had taken over – and whipped his fist towards Runa.

Taelord tackled him before it got there.

He scrambled free quickly, the rebel leaping to his feet, reaching for his axe.

“You don’t want to do that,” Taelord said as the rebel advanced. He kept his knees bent, ready to spring, just in case.

The rebel paused, glaring at Taelord. Then, for the first time, he recognized Runa lying in the dirt behind him.

There was a long silence, in which both rebels slowly adopted looks of horror, and Geren whimpered against the wall. Runa got cautiously to her feet. Taelord looked from one rebel to the other.

“You’ll leave him” — he nodded to Geren — “alone. You’ve done plenty. In turn, I won’t tell Utgar that you struck his daughter.”

The rebels watched him for a moment, and then, without a word, sheathed their axes and fled, practically flying from the scene.

Taelord focused on Geren. “Go,” he said.

Geren scrambled to his feet – despite his injuries – and limped away quickly, leaving the two of them alone.

Taelord turned calmly to Runa. “Hold still,” he said, and for once Runa did exactly that, remaining motionless as Taelord took her face in his hands and tilted it, examining where the rebel had struck her. It would leave a mark for a few days, but she might be able to hide it with her hair.

Taelord let her go, and without a word, put a hand on her shoulder and gently turned her back in the direction of Utgar’s tent. She began walking without complaint, and Taelord fell in beside her.

“You fell,” he said after a moment.

Runa glanced at him.

“You fell, and hit your face. That’s what happened, if Utgar asks.”

“He won’t believe that,” Runa said. She sounded surprisingly calm.

“He’ll have to,” Taelord said, not looking at her. “Otherwise he’ll track down the rebels and probably kill them. And if he does that… I don’t know what will happen. But it won’t be good.”

Runa nodded silently. “Maybe they deserve it,” she said quietly after a moment. “The rebels. Not to die,” she added hurriedly when Taelord looked at her in surprise. “Just… It’s people like them who will start the war, not the Empire. They want war.”

Honestly Taelord couldn’t disagree with her. He looked away. Without the rebels, the unrest was just farmers plotting in the night. Ever since Einar had arrived, things had changed. The rebels had experience, and they were ready to use it.

“Utgar has the Wellspring,” he said. He looked at Runa. “The rebels might want a war – this whole city might want a war – but it won’t happen. Not with Utgar in their way.”

Runa nodded slowly. “Maybe,” she said. “If we can find some sort of solution with the Empire… maybe we can avoid war. I only hope we can.”

So do I, Taelord thought as Utgar’s pavilion came into view. But what kind of deal could Utgar make? The Empire wanted the Wellspring sealed, and Utgar would never do that. Maybe war would never happen with Utgar opposing it… but peace? Taelord wasn’t sure if he could believe that. No, Einar was probably right. War would start at some point, and Utgar would have to pick a side. Taelord and his mother would have to escape from Helsng before that happened, and if Utgar and Runa went with them…

“Runa!” Dered rounded the corner and came to a halt before them, his breath coming in gasps. “Skies above, where were you? I look away for one moment, and—”

“I was walking,” Runa said, turning her head so that her hair fell over the bruise forming on the side of her face. “Why? What’s happened?”

Dered shook his head. “Your father,” he gasped. “Utgar… The Wellspring water… it’s… it’s gone.”