ACT 4
“We are surrendering to the Steel Clan.”
“What?!”
The words sent a rippled murmur through the assembled courtiers.
They’d been suddenly summoned early in the morning, only to be greeted by this outrageous pronouncement from their master. They had every right to be perplexed.
“Wh-What is the reasoning behind this, Your Majesty?” The vizier, clearly in a state of much panic, asked the question on behalf of the assembled courtiers.
Each þjóðann was gifted with runes in each eye, a sign of their divine right to rule Yggdrasil. For the þjóðann to fall under the sway of another clan, putting aside any matters of material power, was something that could never be allowed from the standpoint of tradition and legitimacy.
However, the þjóðann in question seemed undisturbed as she sat upon the throne. She recrossed her legs and spoke once more.
“The Anti-Steel Clan Alliance Army was defeated at Vígríðr.”
“Wha?! I-Is that true?”
“The report came from the high priest. There’s little chance of it being in error.”
Another murmur rippled through the courtiers at the þjóðann’s words.
That the Imperial High Priest—Hárbarth—maintained a formidable grasp on events within and without the empire was well known by all those present.
If it came from him, they reasoned, the information was reliable.
“Currently the Sword Clan’s patriarch, Fagrahvél, who had led the Alliance Army, has been captured, and the Fang Clan’s patriarch, Sígismund, was slain in battle. The rank and file have fled, though many have been captured. Meanwhile, in Álfheimr, the Hoof Clan and the remnants of the Panther Clan have retreated...”
The þjóðann calmly counted off the events on her fingers. At each statement, the faces of the courtiers grew just that much paler. They were beginning to grasp that this was not a mere defeat. This was a catastrophic loss.
The þjóðann cast a brief glance at them, then declared, “The Alliance Army is finished. It is only a matter of time before the Steel Clan advances upon us here at the capital.”
“Nrr-Nrrgh. Wh-What has the high priest said on this matter?!”
“Were you not listening?” the þjóðann responded in a rather curt tone.
“N-No, I had only hoped to confirm it from him directly...”
“You doubt the words of your þjóðann?”
“N-No, of course not...”
Faced with an intimidating glare, the vizier shuddered and fell silent.
“He certainly chirps loudly for being as incompetent as he is,” Hárbarth muttered to himself from within the þjóðann’s body.
Even he can’t control two bodies at once.
He had been the one who had ingrained the preeminence of the High Priest over the þjóðann in the eyes of the courtiers, but he found the whole arrangement to be cumbersome in situations such as this one.
“Regardless, with the situation as it is, the high priest and I have determined that the only way for the empire to survive is to swiftly offer our surrender and beg their forgiveness.”
“...”
Complete silence enveloped the hall. It seemed as though they had finally wrapped their minds around the news.
Regardless of what else had happened, the empire had always maintained a symbolic authority, and all of them had been certain that this status quo would continue to be maintained. This news shattered that illusion, however. They were all clearly at a loss as to how to proceed.
Not that it is of any concern to me.
Hárbarth easily came to the decision to abandon them. His thoughts were more occupied with the important business of what was to come. If the Steel Clan desired hegemony over Yggdrasil, no doubt they would want the legitimacy provided by the þjóðann.
In that case, he still had options. His earlier plans had collapsed, forcing him to thoroughly rework them. It was a bit disappointing that his own blood wouldn’t inherit, but that brat brought enough to make up for that loss and more.
Heh, I’ll be the one who laughs in the end.
The flames of Hárbarth’s ambition had lost none of their strength and continued to burn brightly.
Brought to a great hall, Fagrahvél was forced to sit in a chair at its center. All four of her limbs were restrained, leaving her unable to move.
Arrayed in front of her was a group made up of fierce-looking individuals. They all had an air and aura that suggested they were each a considerable figure in their own right. Such was to be expected.
They were no doubt the ones who occupied the inner circle of the emergent Steel Clan, meaning they had all fought and attained their positions through sheer ability.
“Ah, so you’re Fagrahvél.”
“Ah!”
A shudder ran up her spine. He looked like a young man still in his teens. Rather on the delicate side for a man, he didn’t look particularly strong. But she knew at a glance.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Suoh Yuuto, reginarch of the Steel Clan.”
As she’d guessed. Fagrahvél could only swallow as she felt a lump in her throat.
Fagrahvél’s rune, Gjallarhorn, increased the fighting ability not of herself, but of the group around her. As such, to make the most of her power, she needed competent help, which was perhaps why she had always been good at sizing people up.
She could see that the young man in front of her was quite the monster. The air he gave off was simply incomparable. The generals around him were all high-ranking members of a great clan. Each must have had impressive resumes in their own right.
The wolf-like silver-haired young woman standing next to the reginarch, in particular, gave off an aura of a legendary warrior who had fought on countless battlefields despite her youth.
But all of them paled in comparison to him.
So this is the Black One.
She could very well understand why others believed that he had been sent by the gods or that he was a manifestation of the god of war.
“...Fagrahvél, patriarch of the Sword Clan.”
Fagrahvél lowered her voice, speaking slowly to keep any tremors from her voice.
The general of a defeated army that had lost despite boasting nearly three times the forces. That was what Fagrahvél was now. It was a humiliating thing to be. That was why as patriarch of the Sword Clan, a distinguished clan dating back to the start of the empire, she could ill afford to further humiliate herself. That was all she sought to accomplish.
“Mm. I certainly didn’t expect to find out you were a woman, and such a beautiful one at that.”
At the reginarch’s gaze, Fagrahvél bit down on her lower lip.
While she had portrayed herself as male for the sake of appearances, she was, in fact, a woman.
As a captive, she had been searched in the process of being disarmed. The memory of that humiliation brought the anger bubbling back to the surface.
“Well, I suppose it isn’t that rare. You know, I thought Linnea was going to be one of those super muscular amazons until I met her.”
The reginarch began to chuckle, as though remembering something.
As he noted, while it wasn’t common to lie about one’s appearance or gender, it wasn’t unusual, either. While Yggdrasil, with its chalice system, was more meritocratic than most, given the time period, there was still a belief that women were the weaker sex. To put it bluntly, there were plenty of times when someone would look down upon you for being a woman.
That was why, after consulting with Bára, Fagrahvél had decided to leave behind the fact that she was a woman when she joined the Sword Clan. It was all for þjóðann Sigrdrífa, which meant that, now, it might be appropriate to take back that guise for her sake.
“Reginarch of the Steel Clan, you described me as a beauty, did you not?!”
Steeling herself, Fagrahvél glared at the reginarch and raised her voice. She realized her mistake only after the words had left her mouth. She hadn’t shown any trace of seductiveness. This was the first time she’d even tried to use her looks as a weapon in her twenty-five years of life.
“Mm? Yes. I understand now why they called you the Lord of Beauty. Frankly, I’m surprised you were able to insist you were a man despite that beauty.”
“I see.”
Fagrahvél let out a small sigh of relief and nodded to herself. She had thought she’d failed with her first move, but she was able to confirm that she still appeared attractive to him in spite of that. In which case—
“Reginarch!”
As she called out, Fagrahvél stood up and straightened her posture, as though accentuating her ample bosom outward. She was, in fact, endowed with an extremely feminine body, with curves in all the right places.
While it was ordinarily hidden by armor, she had none of that on at present. If anything, the ropes binding her seemed to accentuate the curves. She wanted to crouch down in embarrassment, but she bore it and desperately raised her voice.
“If you find this body to be your liking, then do as you wish, I shall obey without question.”
“...Oh? Anything, eh?”
For a moment, the reginarch widened his eyes in surprise, but then quickly quirked his lips up in a smile and addressed her. The Steel Clan reginarch’s reputation for womanizing was evidently well-earned.
She didn’t carry herself in a particularly feminine manner, but perhaps he was interested in trying a slightly different dish than usual?
“So, what is it you want in exchange?”
As the reginarch looked down at her with a testing gaze, Fagrahvél glared at him and raised her voice.
“I have two demands. First, guarantees for the lives of the Sword Clan’s subjects.”
“Mm.”
The reginarch sounded impressed and his gaze softened slightly.
There were rumors which described the Steel Clan’s reginarch as an arrogant dictator who forced through various reforms. Looking at his results, however, it was clear to see that he was a good ruler who substantially improved the lives of his subjects.
It seemed the fact that she was willing to put herself on the line for her people caught his fancy.
“Very well. That was already the plan to begin with. I have no objection.”
“Thank you.”
Fagrahvél thanked him sincerely and let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t want to cause problems for her people through her own failure. The real problem was the next request.
“And the other?”
“The responsibility for the subjugation order is mine to bear. The þjóðann is uninvolved. Please, I beg that you will guarantee Her Majesty’s safety...!”
Fagrahvél lowered her head so quickly that it seemed as if she’d slam her forehead against her knees.
She felt her body tremble. Her heartbeat quickened.
Despite the fact that her heart was beating so quickly, the space between each beat seemed to drag on.
When a few seconds—but several eternities for Fagrahvél—had passed...
“Raise your head.”
“Very well.”
At the reginarch’s order, Fagrahvél straightened.
“You’ll obey any order, is that right?”
The reginarch stared intently into Fagrahvél’s eyes and asked as if confirming. Looking into his bottomless black irises, she felt as though everything she thought was laid bare, but still there was no doubt in her mind. She balled both hands into fists and forced herself to speak.
“Yes! If you’ll accept my terms!”
“Very well. Then, to begin with, you’ll accept my chalice as a child.”
“Yes, that I’ll do happily. I will gladly accept your chalice.”
Her words were sincere, not mere flattery.
She didn’t know the reginarch’s personality whatsoever, and it wasn’t as though she was taking his chalice because she was enamored with his character, but a parent surely wouldn’t harm a child’s territories.
It hurt to admit, but the Sword Clan simply no longer had the power to resist the Steel Clan. If they could get away without punishment simply by joining their ranks, it would be impossible to find better terms. This would at least guarantee the Sword Clan’s safety.
“Good. As a child, you’ll fight when I tell you to fight?”
“Yes! Send me to fight whenever you please. I will go wherever the reginarch—wherever my father—wishes me to.”
“And you’ll serve in my bedchambers as well?”
“Yes. While I have little experience in that realm, I will commit myself to you heart and soul. I shall do whatever it is you ask of me.”
“I see. Well then...”
The reginarch smiled coldly, crossing his legs and offering out his foot.
“Then in lieu of the chalice. Lick my feet. Crawl over and do it.”
“...!”
Fagrahvél couldn’t help but find herself hesitating to respond. As the patriarch of the Sword Clan, she was known for her noble personality, and she herself had taken pride in that way of living. To make her crawl over and lick one’s foot was essentially treating her as little better than an animal. It was a humiliating order without equal.
“Very... well...”
With all that said, however, Fagrahvél uttered words of assent, bent down to her knees, and leaned forward.
Her face rapidly approached the shoe. She knew that something inside her would die the moment she licked that shoe, but she was willing to make that sacrifice.
She stuck out her tongue, and just as she was about to lick the shoe—
“That’s enough,” the reginarch said, and pulled his foot away from her mouth.
He then kneeled down and slightly raised Fagrahvél to face him.
“Unfortunately, a man in my position can’t afford to simply believe every former enemy that comes his way, which is why I tested your commitment and your dedication to Her Majesty. My apologies.”
“No, there is no problem. You can test me as much as you wish.”
“Allow me to ask. Why are you so loyal to Her Majesty? You may have been milk siblings, but you aren’t actually related, are you?”
The reginarch caught her gaze from up close.
His words may have still had an edge to them, but the reginarch’s eyes no longer held the intimidating aura that they had earlier. If anything, Fagrahvél felt a certain amount of expectation from it.
“We aren’t related, that is true, nor have we exchanged chalices. Though even in spite of all that, however presumptuous it is on my part, I hold her to be my younger sister.”
“Younger sister, mm?”
“There’s no why or wherefore. How could I abandon a young girl who was alone and crying?!” Fagrahvél glared and shouted at the reginarch.
After exchanging glares for a few moments, the reginarch smiled.
“I had no intention of harming Her Majesty.”
“Ah! You mean those words?!”
“Yes, I know the subjugation order wasn’t of her will. No, I owe her a debt I can never repay. I swear to you by the name of Suoh-Yuuto and my chalice as the Steel Clan.”
“Oh, oh... Oh, thank the gods...”
Overcome with emotion, Fagrahvél let out a sob.
It was not a mere promise. He had sworn on his name and his chalice in front of his clan’s leadership. If he were to go against that, he would lose the trust of his children.
Ordinarily there’d be no reason for him, the victorious general, to swear by such a thing to a defeated general. That he did so anyway meant there was no deception to his words, and that he truly wanted to save the þjóðann.
She felt a heavy weight lift from her shoulders. Tears began to stream down from both her eyes.
“Thank the gods... Thank the gods... Waaaaaaaaah!”
Afterward, Fagrahvél could do nothing but cry like a child.
“To behave in such a manner, and in front of my future parent, no less... you have my sincere apologies.”
Fagrahvél once again lowered herself to her knees and deeply bowed her head.
They had already moved rooms and were now in the castle lord’s chambers.
Fagrahvél then sat up, looked to the bed, and nodded to herself as though coming to some sort of understanding.
“So I should offer myself up here, yes? Um, how am I supposed to do this?” Fagrahvél asked, her expression completely serious.
With it clear that he had no intention of harming the þjóðann Sigrdrífa, Fagrahvél had no remaining hesitation about offering up her body. About the only thing that worried her was the ropes binding her arms and legs. Was it even possible with the restraints? But the answer she got was completely unexpected.
“Oh, no, no. No need for anything like that.”
Having taken a seat on the bed, the reginarch waved his hands dismissively showing he really had no interest in such matters. While she had long since stopped thinking of herself as a woman, the response still bothered her.
“I suppose I’m simply not worth claiming.”
“That’s not it! I’m not so desperate I’ll sleep with someone who doesn’t like me.”
With a dry laugh, the reginarch pulled the blonde beauty next to him into an embrace.
“Eep!”
She was a beauty that would have stood out even in the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr. Her body was also sensual in its proportions.
“B-Big Brother?!”
While there was a note of criticism in her tone, she made no effort to distance herself from him.
Rather, being pulled into the embrace provoked the opposite. Her cheeks were faintly flushed, and while her eyes had a faint look of embarrassment, they also shimmered expectantly.
It wasn’t the expression of a woman drawn to power. Clearly, it was the expression of a woman in love with the man himself.
He had the affection of a woman that was almost divine in her beauty. Further, his main wife was supposedly back in the Steel Clan homeland. The silver-haired wolf also seemed quite taken with him.
“I see. As you say, you seem to have no shortage of women by your side.”
“Yeah, I guess you could put it that way.”
“Then perhaps you have something you wish to ask me concerning Her Majesty?”
“Yep. You’re as sharp as I expected.”
The reginarch’s lips quirked into a boyish grin. The expression made him look his actual age, with a faintly child-like mischief lurking behind his smile. She had to admit she found it a little cute.
For just a moment, Fagrahvél felt her heart skip a beat.
“Mm, something wrong?”
“Huh? No, not at all.”
Fagrahvél hurriedly shook her head from side to side. Her heartbeat was back to normal.
She had no idea what that was, and it was faintly worrying—but issues with her own health were the least of her worries at the moment.
“Then let me be blunt: Who used Her Majesty’s name and issued the subjugation order against the Steel Clan?”
“A-As I said earlier, all responsibility for that order lies with me...”
“And as I said, I have no intention of harming Her Majesty. But, I see. So Her Majesty was the one who issued the order?”
He certainly deserved to be called perceptive. It was to be expected of a man who’d built up such a great clan in a little over two years. His mind worked quickly.
Given what he had already sensed, there was no point in hiding it any further, as it’d just damage his trust in her. Fagrahvél decided it was better to lay it all on the table here. There was nothing to be gained by earning his distrust.
“...It’s true that Her Majesty issued the subjugation order. But... Her Majesty has been behaving oddly as of late.”
“Oh! Oddly, you say?! When did that start?!”
The reginarch pounced on that nugget of information. Though a tad intimidated by his eagerness, Fagrahvél continued.
“I believe it was early in the summer, a little after the wheat seeds had been planted. She had been ill, and after her recovery, it was almost as if she were someone else entirely.”
“As I thought...”
Something seemed to fall into place for the reginarch and he quickly sunk into thought. Based on what she had told him, it seemed as though he had some idea of what was going on. It concerned her precious little sister, so she couldn’t help but ask...
“What... do you believe it to be?”
“Ahh, well, I’m not confident you’ll believe me, but...” the reginarch said as a preface, glancing around for a moment as though unsure how to proceed.
“I’m not from Yggdrasil. I’m from a world about thirty-five hundred years in the future,” was what he wound up saying.
Ordinarily, such a statement would be greeted with laughter, but Fagrahvél knew that this young man was the legendary Black One. It would also explain why he had so many revolutionary tools and weapons.
“I see.”
As Fagrahvél nodded to herself, the reginarch let out a dry laugh.
“It feels a little weird when you’re so quick to believe me, but yes, that’s the long and short of it. It was in early spring. The Panther Clan’s Sigyn used a seiðr to send me back to my original time.”
“Ah, Sigyn, I see.”
Fagrahvél had heard that name before. She was certainly one of the greatest seiðr wielders in Yggdrasil—though her sister was much greater. She could very well imagine that someone as powerful as Sigyn could pull off oddities of that sort.
“Her Majesty was the one who was able to pull me back to Yggdrasil. If I had been stuck there, the Wolf Clan would have been wiped out and I would have lost my entire family, which is why I owe Her Majesty a debt I can never repay.”
“I hadn’t known...”
This was the first time she’d heard of it. Pulling a person from over three millennia in the future sounded like a remarkable seiðr.
“Ah?!”
Fagrahvél suddenly realized something.
She had seen a report from her spies that revealed that early in the spring, the Wolf Clan—the predecessor to the Steel Clan—was badly defeated by an alliance of the Lightning and Panther Clans, and for a month after, the patriarch, Suoh-Yuuto, was nowhere to be found.
That report had come in early in the summer.
Meaning—
“I see, so that’s why Her Majesty had collapsed.”
With all the pieces in place, Fagrahvél finally let out a soft sigh.
The þjóðann was incorrigible.
For the þjóðann herself to be the one to summon back the “Black One” prophesized by the oracle Völva to bring about the end of the empire, and then to end up confined to her bed for some time...
She even had some idea about why the þjóðann had acted as she had.
“Her Majesty was in love with you. A woman will do anything if she really does love a man.”
“Uh, ah, well, uh, I suppose so?”
The reginarch looked a bit troubled, but accepted that explanation.
Sigrdrífa had stayed at Iárnviðr from last winter until early spring. She had also read Erna’s report. Sigrdrífa had kissed the Wolf Clan’s patriarch.
As þjóðann she had been confined to the palace, and due to her physical weakness, she couldn’t spend much time outside of it.
But during that time, even if it had only been temporary, she was able to live and love like an ordinary girl. As her older sister, she found it to be a quite charming bit of news, something she was happy to hear.
She had been happy to hear it, but—
“So that’s why.”
“Mm?”
“Her Majesty began to resent you when you spurned her.”
“Whaaa?! Th-That doesn’t sound right!”
The reginarch’s eyes went wide, as though he was thoroughly caught off guard.
And here she had been thinking he was quite an impressive specimen. Fagrahvél couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed at his reaction. To deny it here wasn’t very manly.
“I’m still a woman, which is why I understand. After your marriage, her jealousy drove her to issue the subjugation order...”
It was the only thing she could think of. It made sense in terms of timing.
“W-Wait wait wait! I don’t think that’s it! My wife and Her Majesty are pretty close friends! I mean, they cooperated when bringing me back here.”
“Mm? Huh. Now that you mention it, that’s odd.”
Though delayed, Fagrahvél finally realized something.
“Her Majesty was at Valaskjálf Palace in the early summer. She was busy catching up on rituals that she had missed during the winter. There wouldn’t have been any time for her to sneak out of the palace.”
And yet somehow she had been working to summon back the Wolf Clan patriarch far away from there.
Even by carriage, it took about twenty days to travel from the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr to the Wolf Clan capital of Iárnviðr. The Wolf Clan patriarch had been missing for about a month; it wasn’t enough time for even a single exchange of letters. Something didn’t make sense here.
“Uhmm, well, my wife and the þjóðann Sigrdrífa look exactly alike. The only difference is in their hair and eye color.”
“Now that you mention it, I recall hearing something along those lines.”
“It seems they share more than just appearance—there’s some sort of strange connection between them, and they evidently used to meet and talk within their dreams.”
“Dreams? That’s a difficult story to believe, but...”
“It’s the truth.”
“I see.”
It was a strange tale, but she had heard similar tales in the past.
“There are a pair of twins among my Maidens of the Waves, and they, too, have an odd connection. For example, if one was injured, the other would feel that pain even if she was uninjured. Perhaps there is a connection of that sort between Her Majesty and your wife, Father.”
“Yeah, I’m quite sure there is. I’d like you to keep this a secret, but there’s one more thing they share. My wife has the twin runes in her eyes.”
“Ah?!”
Fagrahvél couldn’t help but question her ears, and she stared intently at Yuuto’s face to confirm what he’d just said. His expression was thoroughly serious, and he didn’t appear to be lying, but it was still a difficult thing to believe.
A twin-runed Einherjar.
An ordinary Einherjar was said to occur once in every ten thousand people. To have two runes was an extraordinarily rare occurrence.
With the death of Steinþórr Dólgþrasir, the Battle-Hungry Tiger of the Lightning Clan, the þjóðann Sigrdrífa was now supposed to be the only one left. The existence of another with twin runes would have been a remarkable piece of news in and of itself, and yet...
She gulped loudly, then spoke to confirm...
“In her eyes?”
To look exactly like Sigrdrífa and to possess twin runes in her eyes would be something that went beyond mere coincidence.
“Yes, in her eyes.”
The reginarch could evidently tell what she was trying to convey and nodded solemnly.
The people of Yggdrasil knew that the þjóðanns of the Holy Ásgarðr Empire had passed down the twin runes in their eyes from generation to generation.
To put it another way, to have twin runes in one’s eyes was itself proof that one was the þjóðann.
“Let me make sure I’m clear on this: I don’t have any intention of replacing the þjóðann with my wife.”
“...Thank you for clarifying that.”
Fagrahvél lightly bowed her head, thankful to have her concern addressed.
She did have one more thing to add, however...
“You understand that I can’t quite simply take you at your word on this.”
With an identical face—and more importantly—the twin runes of the þjóðann, it would be easy for her to take Sigrdrífa’s place and claim the title of þjóðann. If the reginarch intended to become the conqueror of Yggdrasil, it would be extremely attractive to be able to have the þjóðann as his wife and utilize her authority on his behalf.
Humans were ambitious animals. Those that climb to positions of authority even more so. She couldn’t simply take his word—that he’d abandon that advantage—at face value.
“As I said in the hall, I have a debt to Her Majesty that I can never fully repay, and I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to mistreat a woman who is the soul twin of my wife.”
The reginarch’s gaze was sincere. It seemed that he was truly concerned for Sigrdrífa’s well-being.
“While this is just a hunch, I still can’t imagine it was Her Majesty who issued the subjugation order.”
“You may say that, but I can attest to the fact that it came from her lips,” Fagrahvél responded.
Yes, Fagrahvél had been there and heard the words herself. It was true that it seemed out of character, but it had still happened.
“I don’t doubt your word there. However... What if she’s being controlled? Say, by Hárbarth of the Spear Clan.”
“But, to manipulate Her Majesty...?”
Perhaps that would be possible through the power of a rune or seiðr. Even so, Sigrdrífa was a twin-runed Einherjar and the greatest seiðr wielder in all of Yggdrasil. To put her under one’s spell would be impossible—the possibility hadn’t even occurred to Fagrahvél.
“What if the act of summoning me here to Yggdrasil had drained all her power? Would it be possible, then?”
“Hrrrm...”
Fagrahvél struggled to process the thought.
It was true; the way that the Anti-Steel Clan Encirclement had come to pass was far too neat and seemed out of character for Sigrdrífa.
Adding onto that, the manner in which the clans surrounding the Steel Clan had been pulled in was very similar to the methods used by someone like Hárbarth, as the reginarch had pointed out. Things would certainly make more sense if that were the case.
“At the very least, we’re united in that we want to save Her Majesty. Trust me on that one.”
“Very well... I’ll leave it all to you.”
At this point, she was too far committed to do anything else. Fagrahvél had been left with little in the way of power and had no option but to put her trust in him.
“Bára! And the rest of you! I’m glad to see you’re all right!”
After meeting with the reginarch, Fagrahvél was reunited with the Maidens of the Waves for the first time in several days. They were all restrained with rope and were in a bit of a pitiable state, but she was still overcome with relief as she had feared that at least some of them hadn’t survived.
“Yes, we’re fiiiiine, but in the end even you got caught, it seeeems,” Bára said in a conflicted tone, though she still managed a faint smile.
It was unfortunate that Fagrahvél had been caught, but she was also relieved to see her unharmed.
“You have my apologies. You all fought hard for me, and in spite of that...”
Fagrahvél lowered her head and chewed on her lower lip.
Bára in particular had served as the rear guard at Dauwe Castle and faced certain death to try to help Fagrahvél escape.
To have allowed Bára to go to such lengths and then end up a captive anyway... She couldn’t help but apologize to her.
“Nooo, not at all. If aaaanything, I should be the one to apologize, since I couldn’t hooold them back for even a daaaay.”
“For that to happen despite your direct leadership... Father is quite the warlord, it would seem...”
“Huh? Father...?” Erna looked over and asked upon hearing the word Fagrahvél had just uttered.
It was a difficult subject for Fagrahvél to broach with the Maidens who had fought for her sake and done so much out of respect and loyalty to her, but she also knew that she had a duty to give them that news.
“I refer to the Steel Clan reginarch. I will be accepting his chalice as his sworn child.”
“Oh?!”
The Maidens of the Waves could not hide their shock. They were all proud of the fact that they were members of the great Sword Clan. No doubt all of them felt some measure of hesitation or shame at falling under the sway of another clan. Concerns about the clan’s people, themselves, and other worries about the future no doubt played through their heads as well.
“Weeell, I suppose there’s no other waaaay.”
Evidently, Bára alone had expected this outcome and she murmured in resigned acceptance.
She was by far the most cunning of the Sword Clan. It was clear she’d processed the situation much better than the others.
“Aaaand? Whaaaat’s to happen to Her Maaaajesty?”
Bára wasted no time in getting to the most important subject. While she spoke somewhat slowly, she was quick to get to the point.
“The situation is a bit complicated, but...”
With a nod, Fagrahvél began recounting her conversation with the reginarch.
She told the Maidens about how the reginarch felt a great debt of gratitude to the þjóðann, and that the reginarch’s wife had an unusual connection with the þjóðann, and how, for those reasons, the reginarch had no intention of harming the þjóðann.
The tale was rather difficult to believe and the Maidens struggled to come to grips with it after hearing it from Fagrahvél. She herself knew it wasn’t easy to believe and so forced the conversation to its conclusion.
“I’d like to believe him. Or rather, we have no other choice.”
“Mm, you’re riiight.”
Bára noted her agreement, and the other eight nodded solemnly. They were all aware of the situation they faced.
“However!”
Fagrahvél then let out a breath and swallowed before she slowly put words to her grim determination.
“If Father ever goes against his word and attempts to harm Her Majesty, I fully intend to take upon myself the great sin of patricide.”
“Oh?!”
The Maidens of the Waves reacted with much greater shock than they had earlier.
In Yggdrasil, one could not choose their birth parent, but they were free to choose their chalice parent. This was why one was obliged to obey their sworn parent, even if they demanded that one saw what was white as black.
With regard to the chalice system, the act of killing one’s parent was the greatest sin of all. Indeed, it was a crime that would have one damned as a personification of betrayal to the end of times.
“Given that, I will forgive any of you if you wish to abandon our oaths. Speak freely if that’s what you desire,” Fagrahvél said intently as she faced the Maidens of the Waves.
To have an individual willing to commit patricide as a parent was a great dishonor. So much so that one wouldn’t dare show their face in public. She expected all of them to abandon her, but no matter how long she waited, none of them said a word.
“I understand it’s difficult to say in front of the others. No doubt you’ll be released once I’ve exchanged chalices with Father, then we can...”
“Doooon’t be ridiculous! You’re our swooorn parent until the day we diiie. Noooo, we’ll even follow you to the next liiife. That’s what a chalice is, isn’t iiiiit?”
“That’s just what we’re told to believe...”
Fagrahvél narrowed her eyes and shook her head. She was having a serious discussion. She didn’t want to hear that sort of cliché talk from the Maidens.
“You reaaally don’t get it, do yooou?”
“Mm? Get what?” Fagrahvél was quickly becoming more and more confused.
Bára smiled, a faint tinge of mischief present in her expression, and Fagrahvél could only tilt her head quizzically.
“Don’t you all agreeee?”
Bára then glanced over to the other Maidens of the Waves, who all nodded forcefully.
Just what is it that I’m not getting?
As the question ran through her head...
Erna raised her voice. It almost sounded like there was an edge of anger towards Fagrahvél in her tone.
“We all took your chalice not because we were born as people of the Sword Clan, but because we love and respect your character and personality, my lady!”
“Erna’s right! Why can’t you just ask us to follow you come hell or high water?!” Thír, too, asked with an angry shout.
It seemed the others were also of the same mind and were all nodding in agreement.
“If you believe in this, my laaady, then all we can possibly do is believe in your choice. After all, we belieeeve in you first and foremost.”
Fagrahvél thinned her lips into a line as she felt a rush of heat sting her eyes and pierce her chest. That much was certainly not enough to hold back the wave of emotion that suddenly crashed over her.
“Th-Thank you, all of you...”
She couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer... A sob escaped her throat and tears coursed down her cheeks. She had thought she’d run dry of tears after her talk with the reginarch and was surprised to find she still had this much left in her.
She was truly blessed with wonderful children. She felt that from the bottom of her heart.
At around the same time—
“Phew, I finally seem to have gotten things wrapped up.”
Yuuto let out a large sigh of relief in the lord’s chambers.
Finally, at long last, he was able to take care of the various problems that surrounded the issuing of the Steel Clan subjugation order. Not only that, but he had done so in the best possible way.
The main force of the Anti-Steel Clan Alliance Army was in retreat. The Sword Clan patriarch, Fagrahvél, and her retainers, the Maidens of the Waves, were all in custody. The Fang Clan patriarch, Sígismund, had been slain. They had also captured nearly ten thousand rank and file soldiers.
While the Spear Clan Second-in-Command, Hermóðr, and the Cloud Clan patriarch, Gerhard, were still at large, they were currently under pursuit.
Lastly—and by no means was it any small feat—he had sealed an agreement for Fagrahvél to become his sworn child.
With this, the great clan of the Northern Ásgarðr region, the Sword Clan, was now aligned with the Steel Clan, leaving nothing between him and the Holy Capital, Glaðsheimr.
Frankly, it felt like it had all gone too well.
But this was all due to—
“Congratulations, Father. This was, I believe, all due to your great leadership.”
Sigrún, who had been standing next to Yuuto, knelt in front of him. Tonight she was tasked with protecting him.
Felicia, who was ordinarily his bodyguard and executive officer, was overwhelmed with paperwork due to the influx of captives and was in the midst of sorting through that work.
“No, it was thanks to your hard work.”
“It was because you provided me with an opportunity to redeem myself, Father,” Sigrún said humbly.
She was likely referring to the fact that she had been fooled by the Sword Clan patriarch’s body double.
“You did nothing that needed redeeming. You really did well this time!”
With that, Yuuto placed his hand atop Sigrún’s head and ruffled her hair. He himself wasn’t sure how appropriate that was to do to a young woman, but given that she preferred this to gentle pats, he had no other choice.
More than anything he felt he didn’t have many other ways to show his appreciation for her work.
In this last conflict, Sigrún had been the greatest contributor.
During the battle, she had served as a skirmisher and reinforced sections of his line that had been facing collapse countless times.
Then, once it had become a pursuit battle, she had slain the Fang Clan patriarch, Sígismund, infiltrated Dauwe Castle through the escape route as the forlorn hope, and captured the Sword Clan general, Bára, alive, before she topped it off by capturing the Sword Clan patriarch and Alliance Army commander, Fagrahvél.
Her contribution was such that he could say without reservation that this great victory wouldn’t have been possible without her.
“?”
Sigrún seemed to be rather comfortable and appeared to be completely at ease.
Looking at her present state, it was hard to imagine that she was, in fact, regarded not only as the greatest warrior of the Steel Clan, but of Yggdrasil itself.
It was also true that he felt an immense sense of possession and satisfaction knowing that he was the only one to see her in this state. She was adorable, and that adoration she felt toward him made his irritation at not being able to reward her all the worse.
“Hmm... Are you sure you just wanted to be petted?”
Yuuto once again asked the question that he had asked countless times before. He knew she thoroughly enjoyed it, but he still couldn’t feel obligated to give her more.
“You’ve been helping me since before I even became patriarch, I’d like to reward you with something more. Is there anything else you want?”
Sigrún showed no interest in treasures, wealth, land, or even rank. While he’d heard from Felicia that she kept a glass bell he’d made for her birthday like a treasured heirloom in her room, of late he hadn’t had time to make anything of that sort. Further, her contributions this time were enormous.
“It can be anything you want.”
“...Can it truly be anything?” She seemed to hesitate a moment, but evidently steeling herself, she asked thus.
Feeling as though he’d finally gotten his appreciation through to her, Yuuto responded eagerly.
“Ah ha! Of course! Anything you want. Don’t hold back,” Yuuto said excitedly as he leaned forward.
It was a good opportunity. He wanted to reward her for all of her work up until this point. Even if she said she wanted her own clan, he was willing to grant it.
After all, they had just slain the Fang Clan patriarch. Installing her as its successor wouldn’t be a bad idea.
That was the direction that his thoughts had run to, but her wish was something that caught even “Suoh-Yuuto the War God” completely by surprise.
“Th-Then, I’d like you to care for me like you do Felicia and the Second!”
“...Wha?”
Yuuto couldn’t help but sputter out a sound of pure surprise.
The Second referred to the Horn Clan patriarch, Linnea. He didn’t recall treating the two of them any differently than Sigrún as sworn children. He had thought he’d treated them equally as their parent. That said, there was one thing he could think of that was common to the two of them...
“Uhh, uhhm...”
Even Yuuto struggled to muster a coherent response. At his hesitation, Sigrún deflated, and a sullen expression quickly washed over her face.
“I suppose that’s asking for too much?”
“Oh! Um, well...”
As she gazed up at him with puppy-dog eyes, he felt lightheaded and struggled for words.
Whatever else she was, Sigrún was certainly beautiful. Indeed, she was right up there with Felicia as one of the most beautiful women in the Steel Clan. If Felicia was the friendly, girl-next-door type, then Sigrún was the cool, mysterious beauty.
On top of that, the current contrast between her usual confident demeanor and her present shyness added a further charm that struck at his heart.
“B-But why all of a sudden?”
He had been aware, of course, that Sigrún harbored an intense love for him, though he had thought that was a love directed to a sworn parent, not a romantic one. At the very least, he’d never noticed any sense of that from her. It could just be that he was dense.
Sigrún nodded once, then said, “I wanted to bear your child, Father. Like Mother.”
“I... I see.”
While he nodded, he had to admit it had caught him by surprise. It was perhaps a bit disrespectful, but he didn’t know she had such feminine aspirations. His thought process was also a way of avoiding the truth of what had been thrust in front of him.
“I am a warrior. My role is to wield my spear for you, Father. I thought now—with our campaign against the Alliance Army settled for the moment and winter fast approaching—would be the only time I could spare to bear your child.”
The bluntness of her assessment was very much in character for Sigrún. It was rational and completely understandable.
“Ah... um... Are you sure you want my kid?” Yuuto asked to confirm.
“Yes. Or rather, I don’t want any child but yours, Father,” Sigrún said matter-of-factly as she gazed intently into Yuuto’s eyes.
The purity and directness of her love made him falter. Even Yuuto struggled to immediately come to the right answer.
“My apologies. I have little in the way of expressiveness and am uncultured. I know I’m not your type. I’m sorry for troubling you with this request,” Sigrún said with a frail smile as though in deference to Yuuto’s inner conflict.
She also turned her back to Yuuto. Her shoulders trembled ever so faintly. Something inside of Yuuto snapped at that.
“Wait!”
Yuuto found himself wrapping his arms around Sigrún’s slender body.
“Fath...er?”
Sigrún’s expression turned to one of surprise in Yuuto’s arms. Tears faintly moistened the corners of her eyes.
He didn’t want her to leave him in heartbreak.
“I’m not opposed to having you bear my child.”
“T-Truly?!”
Sigrún’s expression lit up with joy like that of a puppy that was wagging its tail at the prospect of treats. Yuuto was genuinely touched by the affection she showed only to him.
“But... I need you to fight for a while longer. Which is why I can’t have you bear my child yet.”
“Oh! I suppose I’m not...”
“That’s not it!”
Sigrún had believed his remark to be a gentle denial, so Yuuto interjected vigorously. As though to emphasize his point, he squeezed her tightly in his arms.
“I can’t give you a child yet, but I can certainly love you.”
“Huh?”
“The future I’m from has convenient little things for that.”
With that, Yuuto gently pressed Sigrún onto the bed. With her strength, she could easily resist, but she did nothing of the sort. Yuuto draped himself over Sigrún and leaned his face down to hers.
“Past this point, a man can’t hold himself back.”
“...As you desire.”
Sigrún gazed intently back at Yuuto, then gently shut her eyes. Unusually for her, Sigrún’s lips were in a relaxed, gentle smile.
This was Yggdrasil. It was, in a way, an excuse for him as a man, but he may as well follow the local custom. Seeing her smile, he was firmly convinced that he needed to stop complicating his thoughts with things like modern values.
“Ooof. The world looks all hazy.”
With a tired expression, Felicia glanced up at the sky lightening with the first rays of dawn.
A mountain of captives meant a mountain of administrative work. Securing enough food for them, determining where to place them, all the little details that were needed to keep them in place.
Linnea and Jurgen were in command of the overall logistical efforts back in Gimlé, which meant the administrative tasks on the front were, necessarily, left to Felicia.
This amount of work, though, was beyond her capabilities. She was reminded through experience just why Yuuto had designated those two as Second and Third. The fact that they could deal with such tedious and endless work filled her with heartfelt admiration.
She had stayed up all night working, but there were still piles and piles of paperwork to be done. With no end in sight, she was honestly at the end of her rope.
“For now, time for a nap...”
Felicia slumped her way toward Yuuto’s bedchambers.
She wanted to see her beloved Yuuto and cheer herself up before sleep.
“Good morning, Big... Brother...?”
Standing behind the door was Sigrún. That was fine. Since Felicia was otherwise occupied, she had been guarding Yuuto.
It seemed Yuuto was still asleep on the bed. That, too, was fine.
Felicia had come to cheer herself up by gazing upon his sleeping face.
The problem... was Sigrún’s appearance.
She was sat up in bed, sword in hand. She was undressed, and her small but shapely breasts were on display.
“Good morning, Felicia. Thanks for working so late.”
As she said this, Sigrún removed the blanket covering her lower body and stood from the bed. Her lower body, too, was naked.
“Um, well, good morning, Rún...”
Caught completely flatfooted by the circumstances and the fact Sigrún was acting as inscrutable as ever, Felicia offered a greeting in return.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll go get dressed.”
With that, Sigrún picked up her clothing from the floor near the bed and began to dress. She seemed relaxed at the fact that she was with a fellow woman, but Felicia felt a flare of irritation at just how unfazed Sigrún appeared to be. She wanted Sigrún to look happier about being loved by her big brother.
All this at a time when she was drowning in work...
The aforementioned flare quickly grew into full-blown indignation.
“Seems you enjoyed yourself last night.”
“Ah!”
Boom!
Sigrún’s face flushed beet red in an instant.
“Y-Yeah. I... I’ve never felt as fulfilled as I did last night.”
Sigrún glanced downward, mumbling her words shyly as she spoke.
Even Felicia, who had been Sigrún’s friend since their earliest years, had never seen her look this adorable.
“Oh my my my.”
Felicia’s expression curled up into a smile. It went without saying that Sigrún was teased mercilessly by Felicia after.
“Ah, so this is Sigtuna.”
Ten days after conquering Dauwe Castle, the Steel Clan Army, under Yuuto’s command, swarmed the Sword Clan capital of Sigtuna.
The combination of an enormous army numbering twenty thousand and the sight of their captive patriarch Fagrahvél broke the will of the defenders quickly, leading to a peaceful surrender of the city.
“Whoa, it’s huge!”
Yuuto exclaimed with excitement as he paraded down the main road leading to the palace by chariot.
While the houses were made up of the same brick construction as those in Gimlé, the Hliðskjálf was on a completely different scale entirely.
“I-It’s certainly very large...”
Felicia, who accompanied him upon his chariot, stared up in awe at the Hliðskjálf.
The largest Yuuto had seen to this point had been the one in the Horn Clan capital of Fólkvangr, but this city’s far outclassed even theirs in size. It was a feature that attested to the clan’s proud history dating back to the rise of the empire.
“I suppose hoping for a welcome parade was too much,” Yuuto said with a self-deprecating laugh.
He’d made a cursory assessment of the city’s mood with a quick glance. There wasn’t a single person out in the city who wasn’t part of the Steel Clan’s army. It was enough to make him think that their procession was marching through a ghost town.
Of course, the population was still very much there.
Ordinarily, the invasion of another clan’s realms would result in wide-scale looting, which is why it was understandable that the population would shut themselves in their homes out of fear.
“M-My apologies, Father. I will offer whatever contrition you require for my peoples’ disrespect, so please refrain from being too harsh on them,” the chariot’s other occupant, Fagrahvél, said nervously.
While she’d heard through various reports that Yuuto didn’t allow his men to loot the territory they captured, it was somewhat unavoidable that she’d be anxious about the welfare of her people. Yuuto himself understood her concerns and waved his hand to show that the attitude of the citizenry didn’t bother him.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I know that’s just how it is.”
“Indeed, it’s all right, Lady Fagrahvél. Big Brother is a kind and forgiving man.”
“Thank you...”
Felicia’s reassurance appeared to help, and Fagrahvél’s expression softened as she let out a sigh of relief. Soon after, the chariot carrying the three of them cleared the main street and arrived at the Hliðskjálf they had seen earlier.
“It really is enormous up close!”
Yuuto once again felt awe at the sheer size of the building.
Of course, as someone from the modern world, he was familiar with much larger buildings, but those were constructed using the various technologies available. None of that existed in Yggdrasil, and it all had to be done through nothing more than manual labor.
To create something so large under those circumstances was a remarkable achievement. Yuuto, as a ruler, knew just how epic the scale of the effort would have been.
“The Hliðskjálf in the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr is even larger.”
“Seriously?!”
At Fagrahvél’s words, Yuuto couldn’t help but turn to face her.
There’s one even bigger than this one?
“Oh, right, I seem to recall Her Majesty saying something like that.”
“Yes. If you’re surprised by Sigtuna, you might well have a heart attack when you see the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr. The Hliðskjálf is, of course, impressive, but I believe you’d be more in awe at the sheer number of people living there.”
“Huh, really.”
Though he gave off the impression that he agreed with the things she was saying, Yuuto found himself feeling rather skeptical about the second point she had made. Based on the current technology Yggdrasil had available to it, the most he could imagine even the Holy Capital being able to house was a population of about a hundred thousand or so.
Given the time period, housing that many people in such a space was an impressive achievement in and of itself, but as someone from 21st-century Japan, he found himself scoffing at the idea of it surpassing the crowds he witnessed on his trips to Tokyo.
He couldn’t help but feel the differences in mindset between himself and those native to Yggdrasil when such examples came up.
For a while after, Yuuto continued to listen to Fagrahvél describe the Holy Capital and Sigtuna until Felicia called over to him.
“Big Brother, it appears they are ready.”
Two hours had passed before he’d realized it, and while he hadn’t been paying attention, a crowd had gathered around the Hliðskjálf.
The soldiers had gone around shouting the summons through the city, announcing that the Reginarch had ordered all citizens to gather in front of the Hliðskjálf.
At first, it appeared they were afraid of the Steel Clan soldiers, but they soon understood that the troops weren’t going to partake in any form of looting or pillaging. Instead, it was more likely that they were now concerned with drawing their ire by not listening to their commands.
“All right. While I’m sorry to make a spectacle out of it, let’s do this as we arranged.”
“I understand. This will also help reassure the people.”
As she nodded in response, Fagrahvél began climbing the Hliðskjálf. Yuuto followed after her.
There was an opening that led outside some way up the building, so the two of them exited through it. The spot offered a good look at the space below them and provided a platform that carried their voices. It was a spot often used for rituals intended for the people or to fire up the troops.
“We will now conduct the auspicious ceremony of the Oath of the Chalice, sealing a bond of parent and child! The parent shall be the First Reginarch of the Steel Clan, Lord Suoh-Yuuto, and the child shall be the Thirteenth Patriarch of the Sword Clan, Lady Fagrahvél!”
Amplified by a large megaphone, Sigrún’s dignified voice rang through the area. The assembled crowd’s expression turned to one of surprise at the sheer volume. It appeared that this spectacle had captured their attention.
“Then, in hope of blessings upon the First Steel Clan Lord’s family, those present here today, and the new familial bonds they have now forged, we shall ask you to bless this new family with your applause. If you please... Reaaaady!”
“Congratulations!”
Upon Sigrún’s closing statements, the Hliðskjálf was engulfed in a sea of applause. Truth was, there were Steel Clan soldiers planted within the crowd ahead of time, but of course, humans were prone to go with the flow. With those around them clapping, the citizens of the Sword Clan, too, began clapping, and the volume of the applause swelled. This was how they had secured the legitimacy of their conquest in the minds of the Sword Clan’s people.
“Father, once again, I’m pleased to be under your command. My family shall do all in our power to loyally serve you and the Steel Clan,” Fagrahvél said stiffly, bowing her head solemnly.
This act of deference showed just how desperately she wanted to improve the þjóðann’s situation. If she could prove herself to him, then things should work out for the better.
“Yeah, thanks. I’m counting on you. More than anything for Her Majesty’s sake!” Yuuto said as he quirked his lips into a grin.
The words had their desired effect. Fagrahvél’s eyes lit up, as if to say ‘you read my mind.’
“Indeed! For that purpose, I shall go wherever you order, come hell or high water, with the Maidens of the Waves in tow, to whatever deadly battlefield you desire and eliminate your enemies!”
“Heh, I’m counting on you.”
At her bluntly straightforward remark, Yuuto couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.
It was true that she wasn’t exactly a respectful child, but she was easy to understand. At the very least, so long as he treated the þjóðann well, an Einherjar with Gjallarhorn—a rune known as the rune of kings—and her retainers, the nine elite Einherjar of the Maidens of the Waves, would serve him without question.
Right now, what was important were actual benefits, not abstract notions of respect.
“How reassuring to have them on our side.”
Felicia, who had been standing near him, softly spoke into his ear.
“Yep, indeed.”
Yuuto made a show of nodding in agreement.
It was still uncertain when precisely Yggdrasil would fall into the sea. Clans such as the Spear Clan must have suffered losses in the last battle. The truth was that Yuuto wanted to advance upon the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr as quickly as possible. To that end, adding a great clan like the Sword Clan to his side was a great boon.
“I need to get this taken care of before that monster makes his way onto the stage...”
Furrowing his brow, Yuuto thought of the Flame Clan patriarch, Oda Nobunaga, who he’d recently met in Stórk.
Clutched in his hand was an express note from Linnea, the Second-in-Command. There were no carrier pigeons to Sigtuna, and since there was no post-horse network this far out, the information it contained was somewhat old, but it reported that the Lightning Clan’s capital had been conquered by the Flame Clan led by Nobunaga and that the clan itself had been destroyed.
It was proof of just how ridiculous his opponent was.
He honestly hadn’t believed there’d be anyone who could bring down Steinþórr Dólgþrasir, the Battle-Hungry Tiger, at least not in any contest of strength.
The speed with which the Flame Clan patriarch had cleaned up the Lightning Clan’s remaining forces was also something Yuuto found both frightening and impressive.
“With nothing behind him, there’s no stopping his advance to the capital, I guess.”
Yuuto swallowed hard.
At the moment, with the Sword Clan under his rule, he was a step ahead on the path to taking the Holy Capital, but his opponent was a legendary figure who was well-known in Japanese history for being unconstrained by the usual rules suffered by mere mortals. He had no room for error.
“All right, Felicia. Send a carrier pigeon to Linnea. Our supply lines are stretched thin. For now, we should...”
“I-I bear a message!”
As Yuuto began to dictate his directions, a soldier entered the room and interrupted him with a shout. He had evidently run straight up the stairs; his breathing was ragged and his face was flushed red with exertion.
“What is it?!”
Yuuto couldn’t shake a terrible feeling as he asked the question. He’d experienced this sort of situation several times before. It automatically made him assume the worst.
“H-Her Majesty, the þjóðann, is here.”
“Err?”
He didn’t understand at first.
“She stated that she wished to surrender in person...”
“Whaaaat?!” Yuuto blurted out in a questioning tone.
It was true that he wanted to secure the þjóðann Sigrdrífa. He was, frankly, grateful that she had appeared to hand herself over to him. This, however, just seemed far too convenient. His feeling of dread only seemed to deepen.
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