Chapter 14

The Great Battle and Rescue

Laura sat on the bed for a few minutes, wondering what to do next. The door was locked. She went over and peeked out the window, but there was no way out. Even though it was only one story, the Great House was so large that it was still too high up to jump out, and the stone walls made it impossible to get a footing and climb down. She had a moment of excitement when the idea came to her of using the ropes she had been bound with, but when she picked them up, they were far too short, even if she tied the severed ends back together. Disappointed, she hopped back up on the edge of the bed, massaging her wrist where her skin had been rubbed raw. After a minute or two, she thought of trying to reach Aríel. She knew that her horse was weakened and might not be able to hear her, but it was worth a try.

“Aríel! Aríel!” she called to her.

A very weak and worried voice came back. “Laura, are you all right?”

The only reason Aríel could still communicate with Laura was that they were very near to each other. Aríel did not have to push her thoughts far.

“Yes, Aríel. Prinsessa found me and she was able to help me. She distracted the guards so they overlooked my weapons and she numbed the pain from my bindings so I was able to reach my knife and cut the ropes away. The best thing is she gave me the power of swordsmanship. I can handle my sword now as if I have been using one all my life! It’s really cool!” Laura grinned.

“Oh, this news is such a relief to me,” Aríel whispered. Laura could barely hear her. “I must rest now and get my strength back.”

“Are you safe?” Laura asked, anxious about her friend.

“Yes. I have found a small herd that was stolen by Siklingur’s spies from Hólar. They knew my mother so they welcomed me. I told them of our plans and they were very excited about the potential for returning home. I am going to hide in the herd for a couple of hours to restore my energy and get my powers back. Let me know if anything is happening. I will sleep now.”

“Get some rest, my friend,” Laura told Aríel. While she was disappointed that Aríel wasn’t strong enough to do anything to help her, she did notice that there seemed to be a little bit of strength already returning to her horse. She just needed time to recharge.

Laura was worried about what to do and what might happen with Siklingur, but she also felt very tired. She did not know how long it would be before her captor came looking for her. After thinking a little longer, she came up with an idea. She gathered the rope she had cut away and then lay back down on the bed. She placed her knife in its scabbard and placed her sword just under her right side so it was hidden but not uncomfortable.

“Yeah, that’s all I need is to lie on my sword wrong and cut myself in half by accident,” she muttered, adjusting the angle of the blade away from her a little more.

She then arranged the ropes across her legs, neck and stomach so it looked as if she were still bound. She tucked her hand under her side, wrapping her fingers lightly around the haft of the sword. The feel of it comforted her, and the calm feeling Prinsessa had passed to her still lingered. She closed her eyes and in a few minutes, fell asleep.

***

It was hours before the army neared the end of the valley. They had only taken brief rests and switched among a canter, a tölt and a walk so they would not wear out the horses. They made good progress and by 1:30 in the afternoon, they could see the mountains spreading out, as they followed the twisted valley and river that led to the fjord. As they neared the fishing village, the ground they were traveling on changed from hard, dry grasses to coastal terrain, sedge grasses, bogs and marshes that they had to bypass. Seabirds such as eider duck, arctic terns, guillemots, cormorants, gulls, puffins and plover roosted nearby, some flapping frantically when startled by the riders, and the air smelled of fish and brine. Out in the water, large flat rocks poked up out of the water. Thousands of seals lounged about on the rocks, covering their surfaces. About a kilometer from the cliff, Arnþor brought the army to a halt.

As soon as they stopped, Prinsessa called to Aríel, “Daughter, can you hear me?”

“Yes, Mother,” came the strong reply, “I have been able to rest by hiding in a herd who were stolen by Siklingur from Hólar. I have been watching over Laura. She has made herself to look as if she is still tied up. She has been asleep for hours and Siklingur has not been near her yet.”

“This is very good, daughter,” replied Prinsessa, relieved. The rest of the girls could hear the conversation and felt better.

“I have also been trying to listen to those advisors of Siklingur whose minds I can enter. I know they are in the Great Hall with him and they are planning something, but I am not sure what,” Aríel told Prinsessa, frustrated.

“You have done well, daughter. Stay where you are and keep an eye on Laura. I will see if I can determine what is going on around Siklingur. I will tell you when we are ready to attack.”

***

Siklingur had been very busy with his own plans. The capture of the young female spy both pleased and confused him. Why would Arnþor be sending women as spies? Were they being sent as decoys to distract him? Should he be extra vigilant? He had a strong feeling something was afoot, and as soon as Laura had been dragged away, he turned his attention to his advisors to devise his own plans. He had decided it was time to conquer Hólar once and for all. After he had taken some pleasure from this new girl, he would move north with his army, along with Laura and Gígja. When they arrived at Hólar, he would give Arnþor one last chance to give up his village. Arnþor was sure to refuse, at which point Siklingur would kill the girls in front of everyone and proceed to attack with all his forces.

Since Laura’s capture this morning, Siklingur had been toying with the idea of having Gígja taken to the room where Laura was being held. Then he could have the pleasure of two young captives. It was a delightful scheme, but he was hesitant. Truth be known, he had avoided Gígja since her arrival. There was something about her that made him uneasy and he didn’t know what it was. He knew her father had some unusual powers of magic, especially with the horses. Did she have some of these same powers herself? Perhaps it was the way she looked at him when he went to see her – she drew herself up and gave him a haughty piercing stare which made him feel as if he was a piece of horse dung on the bottom of her delicate slipper. Most people recognized Siklingur’s dominant power and authority, but Gígja – that one made him feel insignificant. There was just this look in her eye when she glared at him, as though she could see right through his soul. He did not like that. He was Siklingur – chieftain of a large and well-organized village – he wielded his power over many and all rushed to do his bidding and respected his leadership abilities.

Siklingur did not understand it but admitted to himself that he was afraid of Gígja. Pah! He would just as soon kill her and be done with it.

Throughout the morning, Siklingur had met with his advisors and leaders working out a plan. A little after they had stopped for a large midday feast, he had decided that the plan was nearing completion and he informed everyone that it would be set to take place in the morning. At this news, heads nodded and tankards of ale were raised in approval. His chest swelled with pride.

Now he felt the urge to go to the girl spy. Basking in the glow of his people’s respect, Siklingur hopped off his large chair, flinging out his fur robes behind him and strode majestically out the door. He left his advisors and leaders finishing up the plan and headed towards the northeast quadrant – to Laura.

Servants bowed or curtseyed as he made his way down the long hallways and passageways. He nodded back, acknowledging his workers’ respect. Finally, he arrived at the room where his captive awaited him. Perhaps this girl would recognize his great power and give him the attention and admiration he was due. At the memory of her long blond hair, startling blue eyes, and graceful figure, Siklingur rubbed his hands together in anticipation, smirking. He reached up to a hook next to the door, hoping no one saw that he had to stretch up on his tiptoes in order to reach the key.

***

As soon as Laura heard the jingling of keys at the door, her eyes popped open, wide-awake. She felt very strong and rested. She moved her right hand a little bit, which was tucked under her, tightened her hold on the sword and closed her eyes, forcing herself to take light, even, breaths.

Siklingur opened the door and saw a figure lying on the bed. His mind opened wide. Prinsessa and Aríel, who had been focusing on Laura, saw their opportunity. In that instant, Prinsessa jumped into his mind. Aríel joined her.

As Siklingur stood looking at Laura, he realized he was not looking at a virginal young girl. Instead, he was looking at a powerful warrior sent from heaven. A golden aura surrounded her, lighting the bed and the air above her body. Her beauty was unsurpassed: her blond silky hair glowed as though a light shown from within her; there was not a single flaw in her perfectly molded facial features. Her arms were a light golden color and the hairs on her arms didn’t just look blond, but as though they had been sprinkled with gold dust. The glow surrounding her was mesmerizing. Was she some kind of goddess?

Siklingur walked up as close to the bedside as he dared, awestruck. Laura kept her eyes closed. She could feel the enormous power that Prinsessa and Aríel were radiating through her – she was a quivering mass of energy, waiting to burst forth.

Just as Siklingur reached out a hand to touch her, his whole arm trembling, Laura’s eyes flew open. With one lightening quick move, she sat up and with a swish that cut the air cleanly, the sword flew up at Siklingur’s throat. Unfortunately for her, Siklingur reacted by instinct and ducked back, so Laura only nicked him, just a surface wound across his throat. Blood beaded up. Siklingur, gasping, was unable to look away from the intense blue eyes trained fiercely upon his. He staggered back in shock, grasping his throat with one hand, not sure what had just happened and afraid his whole head would fall off. Laura stood up, an unearthly look in her gaze, the golden light still surrounding her. Wielding the sword with one hand, she took one step toward Siklingur. That was it for him. He screamed, stumbling backwards, then found his footing and ran out the door. Laura heard him fumble with the key, but he managed to get the door locked before she could get to it.

***

Meanwhile, Arnþor made arrangements with his men, and Aríel and Prinsessa relayed what was happening to the girls. Darcy and Kim clung to each other, gasping in excitement and horror as they listened. They oohed and aahed, wishing they could have seen Laura’s golden aura for themselves.

As soon as Siklingur made his hasty exit from Laura’s room, his mind snapped shut. Prinsessa and Aríel had no more access to his thoughts.

Prinsessa then turned her attention to the current plan, which had already been set in motion. Arnþor had deployed the warriors to their hiding places surrounding the village. He then sent Andrea, Emily, Reynir and the warriors to their position. They were going to enter the Great House on the tails of the stampede of horses.

“Go as quickly as possible, and be safe!” he told them.

Emily nodded. “You as well, Arnþor.”

“Thank you, child.”

Emily reached out for Kim and drew her sister into a hug.

“You going to be okay?” she asked.

“Sure, Darcy and I will be fine. We’re going to help Arnþor,” Kim hugged her older sister back.

“Yeah, we have a plan!” Darcy put in.

“What? What kind of plan?” Emily frowned.

“We just told you,” Kim said calmly, glaring at Darcy. “We’re going to help Arnþor!”

“Hmm, okay,” Emily looked from one to the other at their innocent expressions, wondering. “You guys be careful. Do exactly what Arnþor tells you. Don’t get into trouble. Look what happened to Laura,” she cautioned.

“We’ll be with Arnþor – what could happen?” Kim shrugged her shoulders.

Emily hugged Darcy too and then mounted Skessa. With a wave, she rode off. When she glanced back, Arnþor was standing looking after her, a fatherly hand on each of the girls’ shoulders. Emily felt comforted; he’d look after them.

“All right, girls, let’s get going so we can do our part,” Arnþor patted both girls shoulders, then added, “We’re going to ride up to the top of the cliff.” He mounted Kafteinn and signaled his warriors to follow.

“You almost blew it,” Kim muttered to Darcy.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just got excited and blurted it out,” Darcy apologized.

“C’mon, stay back a little bit.”

Kim and Darcy let Arnþor go ahead and dropped back. Arnþor was concentrating on carrying out his strategy and didn’t notice.

“Prinsessa,” Kim thought, and both Darcy and Hela could hear, “we need to go with Emily and Andrea.”

“No!” Prinsessa commanded. “As I told you before, I do not want you near any danger.”

“But, Prinsessa,” Kim reasoned, “we know how to get into the lower levels of the Great House without having to go through the gates. You know that! We can go down the wood chute and get Gigja when they start the attack and everyone else is going to get Laura. Why risk Emily and Andrea even more by trying to rescue Gígja when we can do it?”

“Well, it is true,” Prinsessa sounded thoughtful. “Aríel told me Laura saw the wood pile near the dungeons. And we do know exactly where Gígja and the keys are.”

“Yes,” Darcy put in, “and if you get us to the chute at the back of the Great House, you can focus on Emily and Andrea and give them the power to get to Laura.”

“They can do it, Prinsessa!” Hela added.

“All right, little daughters,” Prinsessa acquiesced. “Your powers of persuasion are good and I can see the reasoning here. Come on, Hela, let’s get down to where the others are hiding. We will position ourselves slightly above them so Emily can’t see Kim. I do not wish to worry her, or have her take steps that would destroy the entire plan. We must go quickly. The herds are getting ready for their stampede.”

Kim and Darcy looked at each other, smiling. This was so exciting!

Hela and Prinsessa moved away from Arnþor’s team stealthily, and then cantered to the road down to Akureyri. The others had already hidden themselves and sent their horses back to the main herd. Prinsessa communicated with Skessa and Kedja, telling them of their plan. She did not tell Kafteinn for fear he might not approve and cause Arnþor to bring everything to a halt.

Just as Prinsessa and Hela found a large opening in the rocks to hide themselves, they could hear Arnþor’s great horn from the top of the cliff. The plan had begun.

***

Siklingur staggered back down to his main hall. Everyone could see the slash across his throat and wondered what had happened. The chieftain was savagely angry; his whole body was shaking with rage as he climbed into his chair. A servant rushed to get bandages and salve for his wound. Siklingur would have liked to arm himself and go right back and kill Laura on the spot, but he was terrified at the golden specter that surrounded her, and frankly, he was afraid to go back in there. With those kinds of supernatural powers and the fact that she towered over him to begin with, he admitted to himself that the odds were stacked against him. Instead, he looked at his line of personal warriors and ordered: “KILL HER!”

There was a little confusion as to which “her” he meant, (Laura? Gigja? Someone else?), since many did not know where their leader had just been. There was a momentary awkward silence. It was broken at the sound of a great horn blowing from the cliff above. Laura was completely forgotten by Siklingur. He leaped out of his chair, knocking aside the servant who had returned with rags and was dabbing gingerly at his bloodied throat. He ran, followed by his warriors, advisors and many others to the gates of the Great House. He and the many villagers looked to the cliff to see what was going on. There were Arnþor and his warriors standing tall and proud above them. One of Arnþor’s men held forth a large flag. Siklingur, upon seeing people who had arrived from the same village as Laura, was more furious than ever. He ignored the flag, which signified the other party wished to negotiate peaceably, and shouted, “KILL THEM ALL!”

His warrior leaders began to yell, “ALERT! ALERT! GATHER! GATHER ALL WARRIORS! PREPARE FOR BATTLE!”

Most of the village’s warriors and townspeople had already begun streaming out of houses and shops when they heard Arnþor’s horn, signaling their arrival. Many went to collect their battleaxes, shields, armor and weapons, then returned, ready to fight for the village and its people, and most importantly, Siklingur. The leaders moved down from the gates to coordinate the attack. They were shouting orders, getting their people in place and armed, when they heard a loud rumble of thunder. Everyone froze and looked up, puzzled. But the rumble was not coming from the sky – it was coming from the road into the village. The sound got louder and louder and the ground began to tremble beneath their feet. While the people were still standing there, trying to figure out what was going on, arrows began to fly into the village from the hillside around it. This caught everyone off guard. Many of Siklingur’s warriors were hit on the first salvo and fell, screaming, arrows sticking out of their torsos. Then the Hornafjörður appeared. The stampede hit the town like an explosion. Three hundred horses came galloping through the streets, mowing down everything in their path. Total mayhem ensued. People scattered, running and screaming, trying to get out of the way. Many could not move fast enough and were crushed. Others dove out of the way in time. Siklingur’s warriors ran in all directions and found cover. They began firing arrows and hurling spears at the horses and toward the hillside when they could see the movement of their attackers. Several horses were hit and injured; they stumbled and faltered, but were able to keep going. A few staggered and fell.

Children screamed, women cried, the elderly moaned in despair, men cursed, sheep dogs barked and whined, and even mice, disrupted by the violent movement, ran along the streets, trying to escape. Vendors’ carts were upended, their fruit and vegetables spilled out and smashed. The imprints of thousands of horses’ hooves marked the streets and bodies were scattered about, trampled.

At this point, Arnþor’s troops had disappeared from the top of the cliff and were charging around to the road. Emily, who had met up with Andrea and the warriors who had been assigned to them, leaped out of their hiding place as soon as the last of their horses thundered by and raced to follow them into the village. Once they were in the streets of the village, they used the pandemonium to act as cover as they scrambled to the gates of the Great House. The girls ducked into the small side streets, following Prinsessa’s directions, gradually working their way closer to the Great House. All around them, chaotic noise echoed wildly– a baby crying, a man shouting, and the anguished yip of a dog in pain. Emily felt her heart beating a million miles a minute and could hear her breath amplified in her ears. Andrea had a stitch in one side and pressed her hand against it, but didn’t slow down.

“Look out!” Emily yanked Andrea into a doorway, barely avoiding a large iron kettle that was flung out a window at one of the opposing warriors. It clanged loudly as it hit, rolling to a stop at the edge of the street.

The stampede of horses continued racing through the streets of the village, preventing the villagers from congregating anywhere. Confusion reigned while the noise thundered and the dust swirled. It was blinding and deafening all at once.

Meanwhile, Prinsessa and Hela cantered into town with Kim and Darcy clinging low to their necks, trying to make themselves invisible. The rampage of horses was a coordinated effort, and as soon as the horses saw Prinsessa and Hela, they opened a way for them. The girls could hardly register anything they passed. They kept their heads so low, they could not see much. Within minutes, they had gotten around to the back of Siklingur’s Great House. This area was isolated from the total confusion in the town. They could still hear noise, but it was muffled.

Darcy and Kim jumped off their horses and took a few steps, catching their breaths and getting their equilibrium back. “Whew, that was something!” Kim exclaimed and Darcy nodded with enthusiasm.

Siklingur had run back into the Great House to take refuge with his personal warriors and direct the attack. They gathered in one of the interior rooms of the Great House, away from windows, everyone talking at once.

Finally, Emily and Andrea made it to the gates of the Great House. They were attacked immediately. Prinsessa was just starting to help Kim and Darcy as they put their plan in action, but she was pulled away to the more immediate threat Andrea and Emily faced. As soon as they hit the first step of the Great House, Prinsessa conferred upon them the same powers she had given Laura. Siklingur’s warriors raised their spears, bows and swords, but hesitated. Before them appeared two youthful looking females awkwardly draped with ill-fitting clothing and armor – how could this be? What kind of warriors look like children in costumes? It was a dreadful violation of the warriors’ honor to kill women. Doubt flooded their minds. As the warriors wavered, the two girls began to glow with a golden radiance. Lit up from within, they transformed from regular looking teenaged girls to able-bodied, powerful warriors. Their faces glowed with confidence and determination, their hair shone in golden clouds and the muscles in their forearms turned ropy and strong. With a flourish, Emily and Andrea unsheathed their swords and began to parry with powerful strokes against the seasoned warriors. More of Arnþor’s warriors appeared to join them and Siklingur’s army came to their senses. The battle was on. The clang of the swords, the yelling of the men, encouragement shouted among the girls, and the thunk! of a body falling filled the air. Back to back, Emily, Andrea and Arnþor’s warriors fought their way through the gates and into the Great House. Once inside, Arnþor’s men held Siklingur’s fighters back, while the girls and three warriors followed Prinsessa’s directions through the house and down the wide hallways to where Laura was being held. Holding their swords in an offensive position, they never faltered, although Andrea panted, “Oh, darn it! Look, they ripped my sleeve!”

“You! I got blood all over me!”

“Yeah, you spattered some on me too – I’m better at jumping back than you!”

Servants and slaves in the house gasped and shrank back as the two came running through the hallways, swords flashing, their bodies still glowing from within. The workers did not know what to think of the golden figures moving down the hallways. Several crossed themselves, others wondered if they were seeing ghosts, one fell to her knees and bowed her head to the floor.

Prinsessa guided them right to Laura’s door. Three of the warriors proceeded to bash the door in. Laura, hearing all the commotion, had gotten up and held both her sword and knife at the ready.

“Laura, oh, thank God, you’re all right!” Emily ran to Laura and threw her arms around her friend.

“I am so glad to see you!” Laura barely got out before Andrea flung her body at the two and joined in the embrace.

“Prinsessa got us here!” Andrea told her.

“You wouldn’t believe what’s going on out there!”

“We fought like real warriors!” Andrea said with pride.

“What the heck were you thinking…going off by yourself like that? Oh!” Emily remembered. “Reynir’s out there – boy, is he upset! He’ll be so glad to see you!”

“I’ll be glad to see him too!” Laura grinned and all three giggled.

Finally, the three girls got over their initial giddiness at finding each other and turned together to face the warriors who had come with them. They were shocked to see all the warriors on their knees. A mirror on the opposite wall showed them the reason. The three girls stood side by side with the image of powerful female warriors and a heavenly aura surrounding them.

“Look at you – you look like you got nuked!” Emily giggled, admiring Laura’s golden glow.

“Yeah, you look like a human light bulb!” Andrea added.

“Well, so do you – wow, that is some powerful mojo!” Laura laughed, then sobered. “Okay, back to business. We’ve got to go get Gígja now.”

They pushed through the crowd of more than twenty of Arnþor’s warriors who had gathered. Some had come down from the mountain and fought their way in, and others were from Arnþor’s personal troop. The girls headed down the cavernous hallway. Arnþor led the battle out in the square in front of the Great House, fighting alongside his warriors. As they rushed through the passages, Emily called out to Prinsessa.

“Prinsessa, we have Laura. Can you guide us to Gígja?”

“Yes, I am proud of you for reaching Laura,” Prinsessa responded, since she already knew of Laura’s rescue. “But do not worry about Gígja,” she told them, “there are bigger problems ahead of you. I will deal with Gígja.”

Prinsessa was right. As the girls reached the end of the hallway, they stopped short. Standing at the opposite end of the hall on the other side of a large common area was Siklingur and at least forty of his warriors. Laura did not hesitate – with a loud shout she pulled her sword and charged at the opposing line. Siklingur’s heart stopped. He could not retreat with his warriors standing there – he would look like a coward! Emily, Andrea and all of Arnþor’s warriors followed up with their own yells and followed Laura into the fight.

***

Meanwhile, Kim and Darcy had located the wood chute with Hela’s help. Looking around to make sure the coast was clear, Kim dropped her body armor and helmet on the ground.

“What are you doing? You won’t have any protection!” Darcy looked at the pile.

“Well, first of all, we won’t fit through this opening. And even if we take it with us, we can’t move very well, or very quietly, in all this stuff. We’ve got to leave it behind,” Kim told her.

“Okay.” Darcy turned around and stood blocking her, trying to look nonchalant in case anyone wondered what they were doing. Kim pushed open the small door and carefully stuck her head in, her ponytail falling forward over one shoulder. Her neck was bent at an awkward angle as she tried to peer around. She lay there for a moment, listening to see if she could hear anyone nearby.

“What are you doing?” Darcy asked in a loud whisper, looking at her friend lying prone on the ground.

“Sh-h!” Kim’s head came partway back out. “I’m making sure there’s nobody waiting to grab me in there!”

“Oh, good thinking. Sorry, Kim,” Darcy fell silent.

“It’s okay, just give me a sec.”

Hearing nothing, Kim squeezed her way into the chute, wiggling a little and when most of her body weight was through the door, gravity took over and she fell onto the woodpile with a muffled oomph! She got to her feet, covered with wood chips, her ribs and one arm bruised from the hard edges of the wood, picking a couple of splinters out of her arms. She stayed close to the stone wall, not wanting to be out in the open. A large spider, disturbed by the shifting wood, scuttled away and Kim shuddered. She wouldn’t mention it to Darcy. She leaned out and peered down the passageway in both directions. Lit by candle wall sconces, to the left was a door and large storeroom, filled with barrels and shelves and crates. A stairway led up from the passage where Kim was standing. To the right extended another long passageway with many doors, and Kim knew Gígja was behind the last door on the right. Her heart quickened with excitement. It was quiet down in the dungeons and the air was cool, dank and still.

“Is it okay?” Darcy said through a crack in the chute.

“Yeah, I think so, come on down – wait, come backwards and I’ll guide your feet down,” Kim told her.

Darcy, having also shed her equipment, lay on her stomach, pushing the door open with her feet and skooched backward. Once she was halfway in, Kim grabbed her legs and helped her down the rest of the way, so her friend didn’t land as awkwardly as she had.

Darcy got her footing and straightened her clothes, brushing off the dirt and smoothing her hair, looking around with curiosity.

“We’ve got to be really quiet, because we don’t want any of the other prisoners to raise the alarm on us,” Kim whispered.

“Let’s use hand signals when we can,” Darcy whispered back and Kim nodded back. “Good idea. Now, c’mon, there are the keys hanging right there!” The two were careful to cautiously look in all directions. Then Kim motioned for Darcy to go ahead and get the keys off the hook. She pantomimed holding them so they didn’t jingle and make noise.

Darcy could feel her heartbeat pounding in her throat as she snuck along the side of the wall and reached for the keys. However, no one was there, because everyone was caught up in the many battles going on somewhere above their heads. Grinning at each other, Kim and Darcy ducked down low and headed for Gígja’s cell. They unlocked the door and threw it open. Sitting on a bench against the wall was the beautiful daughter of Arnþor. She rose to her feet.

Kim and Darcy stood for a moment, staring at her. Throughout Gigja’s captivity, Siklingur had orders that Gígja was to have water to wash with and fresh clothing provided, luxuries not afforded any of the other prisoners. She was a beautiful girl, dressed in a sky blue flowing silk gown with an empire waistline and soft beaded slippers. She was slim and graceful, her hands white and thin, pale skin with spots of rose on her cheeks, a thin nose and high cheekbones. Her eyes looked like a female version of Arnþor’s, a distinctive hazel color with flecks of greenish brown in the irises. Her cornsilk colored hair had been crudely styled; it was caught up and back in several places.

Gígja broke the younger girls’ admiring looks by stepping forward, her hand reaching out to them.

“What is happening?” she asked, seeming unfazed by two 12-year old girls dressed in trousers, tunics and knee high moccasin boots flinging open the door to her cell. She had been expecting something to happen after her encounter with Laura.

Kim said breathlessly, “Come on! We have to get out of the Great House! There are many battles going on above!”

“Believe me,” Gígja told them, her eyes twinkling with humor, “I want to get out of here – the sooner the better!”

Without hesitating, she grabbed the keys Darcy was clutching and said, “Follow me!”

Gígja ran to the first occupied cell and unlocked the door, then the next and the next, and the next. Kim and Darcy both stepped forward, mouths open to protest, “What are you doing?” then realized Gígja knew exactly what she was doing. She was gathering recruits. Most of the men locked up in the cells were from Hólar. As soon as they saw Gígja, they thanked her profusely.

“Oh, daughter of Arnþor – thank you! I owe you my life!”

“Oh, blessed daughter, thank you! Thank you!”

“Yes, yes,” Gígja replied. “Come along, now, quickly! Quickly!”

A line formed behind her. The men were thin and beaten, tired and hungry, dressed in ragged clothing and barefoot. All smelled terrible.

Since any key on the ring of keys would open any door, Kim got a key for herself and one for Darcy and in a few minutes all the doors in the dungeon had been opened. They shut all the cell doors behind them so it would not be obvious at first glance that they were all empty.

“Follow me!” shouted Gígja. She ran to the room where Kim had seen boxes, crates and barrels stored and began pushing them over. Once again Kim and Darcy were confused, but understood after a minute or so when a box Gígja pushed over broke open and swords and knives spilled out of it. Mice scurried out of the way. The men grabbed the weapons in a wild free-for-all and then headed for the stairs.

An unfortunate guard, who had been tasked to check on and guard Gígja’s cell, came down the stairs and around the corner at that moment. He didn’t get the chance to say a single word before he was speared through the heart with a sword. He fell heavily to the stone floor with a grunt.

“Aye, this one works!” the prisoner held up the sword and looked at it admiringly. Everyone laughed. Two men picked up the guard by the arms and hauled him, legs dragging, into the nearest cell.

“We enter the battle for Arnþor!” Gígja cried, holding her knife aloft.

“For Arnþor!” the other prisoners picked up the cry and charged up the stairs, with Kim and Darcy picking up the rear. All of the prisoners came, even those not from Hólar; Siklingur and his men had treated them horribly during their captivity and they were hungry for revenge and had even formed friendships with the others from Hólar.

As soon as Gígja and her recruits reached the main hall, they ran directly into the battle between Siklingur’s and Arnþor’s troops. In the midst of a sea of bodies thrusting, parrying, stabbing, falling, swords flying, Gígja could see Laura, Emily and Andrea glowing with the intensity of the sun and fighting with such skill that warriors were dropping one after another.

Kim and Darcy burst up at the end of the line and stood in shock, their mouths dropping open as they stared at the spectacle.

“Pssst! Get over here!” one of Arnþor’s younger warriors, hardly older than they were, recognized them and pulled them aside.

“You don’t even have any armor or weapons! Hide behind these and stay out of the way!” The boy shoved them over to two large solid iron urns, and then he turned back to the swordfight.

Kim and Darcy took in the whole scene - blood was flying, bodies lay about, swords tinged in a cacophony of offensive moves and defensive rejoinders. Kim watched in wonder at her sister deftly swiping her sword back and forth, up and down. Her feet moved in an ancient rhythm, positioning themselves this way and that.

She, Andrea and Laura were not untouchable – Emily’s sleeve was torn and she had blood on her arm; Laura had the same on one of her legs and Andrea’s hair, dangling out of her helmet, had been hacked off so that it was several inches shorter than the other side. All were totally focused and concentrating on their opponents. Kim and Darcy looked in awe at the odd glow they gave off – what was that? Some powers the horses had given them? Kim suspected it to be so.

Reynir was near the entrance of the Great House, off to one side, fighting like crazy. Being a farmer’s son, he knew how to wield a blade, but was not as skilled with the finer points of sword fighting, the intricacies of the footwork, and the moves, as the others. However, his fury in knowing that Laura was in there, held captive, gave him the will and the brute force and strength to power his way through the fighting. Rather than utilizing the artistry of fencing, Reynir plowed through the warriors, stabbing with one hand and delivering a crushing blow with the other. He was out of sight of the main pack of fighters, more on the sidelines trying to creep nearer and nearer to the entrance, ever closer to reaching Laura.

Meanwhile, Prinsessa bestowed her powers upon Gígja, who also began to shine with an eerie pale light that warmed to gold and lit her from within. She had taken only a knife from downstairs, but quickly grabbed a sword from a fallen man. She and her fighters attacked from the rear. Siklingur’s warriors were caught by surprise at the unexpected wave of people who poured out of the dungeons. They were now outnumbered by Arnþor’s men. Fueled by adrenaline and anger, the weakened prisoners fought with determination.

Gígja joined with Laura and they inched toward the center where Siklingur stood, surrounded by his best warriors. Laura reached the ring first and maneuvered her way into the middle to face Siklingur. When he saw Laura break through the ring, Siklingur’s eyes widened and Laura saw his Adam’s apple move up and down as he swallowed hard. She grinned. Siklingur’s warriors turned to protect him, but Gígja and Emily who had followed Laura, attacked with a vengeance.

“Get him, Laura!” Andrea called over.

“Yeah, get that little pipsqueak!”

Laura laughed out loud and turned to face her foe.

Siklingur, though shaken by the girls’ presence and unbelievable skill with their swords, was not unskilled with his own. As Laura came toward him, he brought up his weapon and in a single parry sliced across Laura’s left arm. Undaunted by the blood that welled up and spilled off her forearm, Laura returned his blow with a strike of her own to his side. Siklingur bent for a moment in agony, then straightened up and looked at Laura with hatred in his eyes.

The two battled hard. Emily, Gígja, Andrea and the warriors fought around them. Siklingur struck often and with all of his body weight. He was beginning to overpower Laura with his blows. He hit her sword with such force that the blow broke her wrist.

A burst of pain shot through Laura’s body and she screamed. The sword began to slide from her hand. When they heard Laura’s scream, Emily, Gígja, Andrea and the warriors they were fighting, stopped and turned toward the two. At the sight of Laura, bleeding, her face twisted in agony, Emily cried out, “Laura!” Andrea gasped and Gígja brought one hand up to cover her mouth.

Kim and Darcy hardly realized that they had stepped out from behind the planters into the open so they could see the drama unfolding in front of them.

As if in slow motion, every detail crystal clear, Siklingur brought his sword up for a final blow. The air was split by the loudest, most earth shattering yell coming from the depths of Arnþor’s body. He had battled his way into the Great House. Shocked by the sight of the girls fighting, including his daughter, Arnþor let out the roar of a predatory lion. Siklingur turned his head, distracted for a moment. It was a fatal mistake. Laura, seeing Siklingur’s hesitation, switched the sword to her left hand and lunged forward, driving the blade right up to the hilt into his chest.

“Your little bee has used its stinger well,” she leaned forward and whispered into his face, his eyes opened wide and staring at her in horror.

She let go and Siklingur fell forward onto the ground, the sword jamming all the way through his body, the shaft buried inside him.