"I want you to teach me how to fight!" Erik said suddenly, as we devoured a meal of mutton and oats. I finished swallowing my mouthful before turning to him.

"I'm not a teacher," I told him simply, continuing to eat as if nothing had happened.

As expected, it wasn't enough to deter him.

"But you teach Siegfried," He complained. "I see you two training all the time. What's one more student?"

"Siegfried and I already know how to fight," I said. "Training helps us improve. You, on the other hand, know nothing about swordplay. I'd have to teach you everything from the beginning." And gods know I don't have the patience for it.

"Please," Erik said emphatically. "If I don't know how to fight, how am I supposed to free Ingrid from the trolls?"

I choked on my ale and scowled at him.

"Who said you were coming on the search party for Ingrid?" I asked.

"I did. I can make my own decisions."

"Not if your commander says you can't. And I say you're not going."

He opened his mouth once more to protest but I gave him my ugliest, most terrifying glare and he bit back his words. Clenching his fists, he stormed out of the hall.

I'd been a bit harsh on him, but I was only being realistic. If I couldn't handle a single troll, how could I expect a greenhorn boy without any training to fare? I was saving that boy's life.

I arrived in the training yard later that day prepared to work on my sword technique. It was difficult to learn, much more difficult than I would have expected. Anyone could grow to be strong through training, exercises, and dedication. But to be a truly talented swordsman was like an art, something that had to be painstakingly honed and improved until it was something beautiful. It didn't come quite as naturally to me, but I felt like Siegfried's lessons were helping me progress somewhat.

Siegfried hadn't arrived yet, so I began my standard routine of warmups, practicing different moves I had recently learned. My sword moved swiftly, cutting through the air with every strike. Soon you will be tested by a real battle, I told myself. You must be ready.

I stopped and turned at the sound of footsteps approaching.

"What do you think you're doing here?" I asked. Erik followed in behind Siegfried, looking infuriatingly smug.

"Siegfried said I could train with you," He said, puffing up his chest.

I turned my gaze to Siegfried, who shrugged.

"I said he could watch and try to follow along," He said. "I don't see the harm in it."

I sighed heavily.

"Fine," I said. I tossed a sword and shield at Erik's feet. Grinning, he immediately bent to pick them up. "Let's see if you can keep up."

I didn't make the training regiment any harder than usual- I didn't need to. As it was Erik strained to keep up, and within ten minutes he was sweating hard. His relief was palpable when my section of the training ended and Siegfried's began.

We continued work on a move that Siegfried had begun to teach me the other day, a clever trick to disarm your opponent. It was difficult, but I was getting the hang of it. I'd yet to pull it off against Siegfried, though.

Erik copied Siegfried's motions with a shaky stance, weak grip, and overall abysmal form. I sighed in exasperation. If we were going to teach the lad, we might as well do it right.

"Keep your arms straight," I chided him, grabbing his unsteady sword arm to hold it still. "Your arms shouldn't be shaking."

"But it's heavy," He complained, his face going red with the effort of holding up the iron sword.

"That's what the physical training is for," I told him. He held his position in place for a few more seconds before he sagged forward in defeat, his arms on his knees and his breath ragged.

"Give it a couple more weeks of training and you'll be swinging that sword like it weighs nothing," Siegfried said. He handed Erik a mug of water, which the boy drank gratefully.

"Alright," I said. "That's all for today. Run along now." I made a shooing motion with my hands. Erik scowled at me while Siegfried repressed a grin. Despite his disgruntled attitude, Erik listened to my dismissal.

"Thanks!" He called back to us as he scurried from the training yard, probably off to pester Olaf about the old soldier's tired war stories. Erik, like all boys his age, had fantastical ideas in his head about war. Soon he would experience it for himself and realize that glory was so remarkable for a reason; it came at a great cost.

I wiped the sweat from my brow and began to undo the straps of my armor. Siegfried did the same, using a ragged cloth to wipe his face.

"What did you discuss with the queen?" He asked as I sat down to began sharpening Spoon's edge with a whetstone. I scowled. The memories of that particular conversation weren't pleasant ones.

"I assume the same thing she discusses with everyone of high enough status to be of use to her," I replied. Siegfried was clearly already clued into the lofty politics of Heorot. He didn't need an ignorant newcomer like me explaining it all to him.

He seemed to be on the same page.

"And what did you tell her?"

I paused sharpening my sword and glanced up at him. His face, as usual, gave nothing away. How someone could ever keep their emotions under such tight lock and key baffled me, but I couldn't help but envy the ability.

"Why do you want to know?" I said after a moment, returning my focus to the sword and whetstone. "Do you have some sort of stake in the Danish succession? Because I for one find the whole business ridiculous."

"Not really," He replied, a shrug in his voice. "I wouldn't call myself a fan of either Haldor or Rorik, though it remains to be seen what sort of king Freydis' son will grow into." I brought the blade close to inspect the edge, and finding a chip in the metal brought it back against the stone.

"Are you saying you don't care at all about the Old Laws?" I asked, agitation creeping into my voice. "You'll just throw your support to whichever claimant meets your fancy?"

He shrugged. "And since when have kings ever adhered to the Old Laws?" He asked. "Not Hrothgar- he took the thrown at the first sign of his uncle's weakness." Satisfied with Spoon's edge, I stood and sheathed it. Siegfried raised a brow. "Not even the great King Volsung of Geatland, so I hear," He continued, making me whip my head around to scowl at him. "The eldest child is supposedly meant to be heir, yet I don't see anyone pointing out that your younger sister will inherit the Geatish throne."

Gritting my teeth, I brushed past him, purposefully checking his shoulder, and continued into the halls.

"That's different," I said through my teeth.

"It's exactly the same," He persisted. The stone walls twisted in a seemingly directionless pattern, but I finally knew the passages well enough to find my way back to the Great Hall. "Subverting the law is what kings do. You can't disagree."

At last the passage opened up into the Great Hall's vast space. I sat down heavily on a bench in the large room, waving an arm for a serving girl to bring over meat and bread. Siegfried sat across from me, stubbornly refusing to give up this troublesome line of conversation.

"Don't tell me you're one of those righteous royalists who believes the king can do no wrong."

"I'm not an idiot," I replied, starting in on the meal. "I know kings do what they want. But the laws are there for a reason. Neither kings nor the people benefit from the disorder and destruction that results from these senseless squabbles over the crown."

There was little food to be had, and it was gone all too soon. I sighed as my stomach grumbled in complaint. If the trolls didn't get to us first, then starvation wouldn't be far behind. Other men huddled together around the hall, talking in hushed tones and somber voices. Heorot couldn't hold out much longer.

"We're due for another attack soon," Siegfried said, also taking in the grim atmosphere. "Something strange is going on. The trolls have never gone this long without mounting an attack."

My foot jumped up and down anxiously beneath the table. All I could think about was Ingrid, and the coincidence of her disappearance with that of the trolls. What was she doing now, if she was really among them? My mind couldn't even conjure up a guess, and I grit my teeth in frustration.

"At this point, I'm looking forward to it," I grumbled. Anything but this monotonous day-to-day routine.

Siegfried went silent, turning to look at me with disapproval.

"You say that now," He said. "But you won't be once you see it for yourself- that is, if we survive the next attack at all."

I almost replied with a remark about his inability to be killed, but stopped myself. There seemed to be an unofficial agreement between us not to pry into each other's pasts. He didn't question me about my parentage, for which I was extremely grateful, and I, in turn, muffled any urges to press him about his strange power, regardless of how much I wanted to know everything about it.

I pushed my plate forward and took the last sip from my mug. "I intend to survive," I said. "I'll survive for as long as it takes to find my sister."