"Who?" Magnus said, confused.

"Erasmus."

Magnus frowned, "How does this scrap of paper lead you back to Erasmus?"

Ulric rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "Because the damn fool would recite this every time he recounted Berserker legends when we were younger." His chest rose and fell with angry breaths. "I must have heard it over a hundred times in my first year of berserkering."

Magnus's eyes widened, "You're saying you think Erasmus is the one behind this?"

Ulric stared at the snow-covered horizon. Did the words on this slip of paper mean Erasmus was the leader? He recoiled from the thought.

There was a good chance the poem was popular among other Berserkers and shaman, especially those with the same ideals as 'The Angry Wolf.' The fact they found this on Anthony did not necessarily mean Erasmus was the mastermind he was looking for.

The only thing this proved was that Erasmus had penned the message. Anthony could have picked it up anywhere he might have crossed paths with the old man and kept it on his person for the simple reason he liked it. Perhaps it meant nothing at all.

"I'm not sure," Ulric muttered. "It's possible; it's written in his hand, that much I know for certain."

Magnus looked down at Anthony, "He said he wasn't going to use it; he was only meant to retrieve it..."

Ingrid's brow puckered in a delicate frown. "Your dagger?"

"Yes. He wouldn't even know it existed or of its power unless there are shamans in league with the radicals...so, it is possible Erasmus could be, if not the leader, then at the very least a member." He turned to Ulric, "It's even more plausible when you consider it was Erasmus who gave you the amulet."

"Unless," Ulric muttered, "he picked it off of one of the men when they attacked our town a couple of weeks ago."

"I doubt that to be the case...," Magnus said, rubbing his beard. His eyes took on a faraway look for a moment before he turned to Ulric, "Has he asked for it back since giving it to you?"

"Yes. He said I no longer needed it after claiming Ingrid."

"But you kept it," Magnus murmured. "Why did you keep it?"

"The more important question is why did he want it back? What purpose could it serve him?"

Magnus smiled, "Well, that's easy to answer."

"It is?" Ingrid said.

"Yes. According to a book on talismans I have, there's no stipulation that the amulet can only amplify the powers of a Berserker. It simply states it amplifies powers. Therefore, it's safe to assume it could also enhance a shaman's powers."

They stood lost in their thoughts until Ulric quietly asked, "Why do you think Anthony was after your dagger? If Erasmus is one of them, why would they need your dagger when he has one just like it?"

Several minutes passed in silence as the question hung unanswered. Suddenly, Magnus groaned and shook his head. "Of course," he turned his face to the sky and sighed, "Why did I not think of it before?"

"Think of what?" Ingrid glanced between Ulric and Magnus, "Did I miss something?"

"Hell if I know," Ulric shrugged. "What are you not telling us, Magnus?"

Magnus gave a mirthless laugh and began pacing between where Ulric stood and Anthony's corpse in the blood-drenched snow. "Sven Arisson, Erasmus, and I each have one of the three blades. If Erasmus is indeed a member of this group, and they sent Anthony to retrieve my dagger, then they only need to retrieve Sven's."

Ulric folded his arms across his chest. "Unless they already have his, and yours was the last one."

"True, but either way, it's all the same. Without the third dagger, they'll never be able to combine them into Nightkiss."

Ulric frowned. "What the hell is Nightkiss?"

"The name of the sword the three daggers create when combined. I thought that was obvious."

"Who comes up with these names?" Ulric muttered while rubbing his eyes.

"The gods, of course," Magnus said, "You should know better than to ask such a question by now."

"The only thing I know regarding this particular matter is that the gods are terrible at naming things." Blowing out a breath, he stared at the snow at his feet and then at Magnus. "Why haven't I heard of it before?"

"Well..." Magnus pursed his lips and scratched his head, "Because the only ones who are supposed to know of it are the owners of the three daggers and the shaman we inherited them from, who have since died." He lowered his voice and leaned in close, saying, "We're entrusted with them at our awakening ceremony and make a solemn vow to never speak of them to any outsider."

"You mean you shaman are part of a damn secret society?"

"I can see why you might think that, but in truth, we're part of a sacred order. There's a big difference."

Ulric frowned, grunting as he rested his fists on his hips, "What is so special about Nightkiss?"

Magnus glanced at Ingrid, "Perhaps, for your wife's sake, we should carry on this conversation in my cabin where it's warmer?"

Ingrid shook her head and took Ulric's hand, "You needn't worry about me."

Magnus shrugged, pursing his lips as he glanced between them. "If 'The Angry Wolf' really is hell-bent on razing the world, then a powerful shaman wielding Nightkiss in a group of Berserkers is the only way to ensure it happens quickly."

He paused, giving them time to absorb what he had just told them. "Should Anthony prove correct, and if they were to succeed in laying hold of all three daggers when the chaos is over, the only ones standing at the end would be of Berserker lineage."

Ingrid gasped and held a trembling hand over her mouth, "It would be the end of the world."

"More or less," Magnus nodded.

Ulric squeezed her hand and tried to ignore the frantic beat of his heart. There wasn't enough time! How was he supposed to find and save Esmund and simultaneously ensure 'The Angry Wolf's' mission failed?

"However," Magnus murmured, his mouth bending into a lopsided grin, "they have to succeed in obtaining all three blades first, which I will not allow to happen."

"Once they learn of Anthony's death, they will send another to retrieve it," Ingrid whispered, "this won't end until they have what they want."

"She's right," Ulric said. "There's only one way to stop them."

Magnus smiled at Ulric. "Well, then." He jogged toward his cabin, "Let me grab a few things, and we can be on our way."

"Excuse me?" Ulric frowned, "Where do you think you're going?"

"With you, of course," Magnus laughed over his shoulder. "I'm always up for a good fight."

Ingrid and Ulric shared a look before Ulric pointed to Anthony's corpse and called out, "What about him?"

Magnus didn't spare Ulric a glance, "It's freezing out here. He'll keep." Without another word, he stepped into his cottage.

Ulric pursed his lips. It was frigid, so maybe it was nothing to worry about. But, if it were him lying there dead, he wouldn't want someone to leave his corpse to the elements or whatever wild animals roamed on by in the meantime.

Maybe it was the knowledge of his own life ending soon, or perhaps he'd just grown soft and sentimental with marriage; regardless, he knew what he needed to do before they left.

Kissing Ingrid, he whispered, "I'll just be a second."

She nodded and watched him with concerned eyes.

Ulric quickly wrapped Anthony in a tarp and laid him atop the woodpile with a quickly penned note—just in case Rupert the goat had evaded becoming dinner and had made it to Westmoreland. He was tacking the note to the tarp when Magnus emerged with several satchels bursting at the seams.

After helping Ingrid mount, Ulric swung up behind her and waited for Magnus. Taking a moment to determine where his twin instinct was telling him to go, Ulric nudged Toots in the ribs and directed him to head east. The first mile passed in companionable silence, primarily due to Ulric's mind being full of worry and self-doubt.

They traveled another mile and a half without speaking before Magnus maneuvered his mount beside Ulric and Ingrid and said, "So, where are we headed?"

Good question. Ulric pursed his lips and decided a vague answer would have to do for now. "To save my brother."

"Which one?"

Ulric glanced at Magnus, slightly irritated by his curiosity and need for particulars. "Esmund."

"Aw, the young blood; I enjoyed working with him a few years back. He's quite witty if I remember correctly." Magnus grinned, "It's a pity you're not more like him."

Ulric gave a noncommittal grunt and stared ahead, unfocused. How many times in his life had he heard similar comments? All too often, he was compared, not to Gunnar as he would have expected, but to Esmund, and in each case, everyone always found him lacking.

Perhaps it was due to their personalities being so drastically different. Regardless, there was little Ulric could do to rectify the dissimilarities. Not that he wanted to in the first place.

In many respects, they were noticeably brothers with an extremely close bond. However, while in the same predicament, Esmund had a way of thinking and handling specific issues that were foreign to Ulric's initial response. Esmund could react calmly and almost analytically, while Ulric tended to allow his baser, Berserker instincts to reign.

That much had become evident when they met Elsie and Piper two weeks ago. As much as it pained Ulric to admit it, his younger brother was a much better person than Ulric could ever hope to be. If only he had realized his good fortune sooner in having worked so closely with Esmund over the past twelve years, he would have tried harder to be a better older brother.

After two more miles passed and they merged onto the road leading to Bull Mountain, he took it as a sign that Gunnar had gone with Esmund after all.

Ingrid caressed the back of his hand where it rested around her middle. "You've grown awful quiet."

"He's brooding," Magnus said with a playful wink.

Ulric scowled, "I was thinking."

"Pardon me," Magnus chuckled, "those two activities look so similar on you..."

Ingrid's hand stilled. "What about?"

"Nothing..."

She tapped a finger against his hand, not appeased by his simple answer.

He pulled her against his chest and lowered his voice, "Honestly, it was nothing. My mind was wandering." He scanned the frostbitten and snow-covered landscape as if seeing it with new eyes.

Would this be the last he would behold it? Had it always been so blindingly bright? Heavy frost clung to every bush and tree, lending an enchanting quality to surroundings that he usually found dull.

Would he be able to let all of this go when his time came? No, he didn't think he could. He didn't want to walk meekly to his death like a lamb to the slaughter because he didn't want to die. Now that they were married, there was so much he wanted to experience.

He could not give Ingrid up. How could the gods be so cruel as to demand such a thing of him? There had to be a way to stop it from happening.

Ulric kissed Ingrid's cheek and asked with trepidation, "Have your visions of the future ever altered?"

Ingrid turned slightly and met his gaze over her shoulder. She stared at him in silence with eyes full of sorrow. "Rarely."

Maybe he could have let the matter drop if she had told him her visions never changed. But she hadn't. Rarely. It was a dangerous word that filled him with hope. "Then, it is possible?"

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head, "You cannot—"

"I can," he whispered fiercely, "and I will." He nodded, reaffirming the declaration, unable to keep a pleased grin from bending his lips. His mind came into sharp focus, and he began planning how he would endeavor to stay alive.

Ingrid's face hardened, and her mouth drew into a firm line, but unspeakable torment filled her eyes. "You would dare challenge the gods?"

"Yes. To be with you, I absolutely would."

Her chin wobbled, and tears flooded her eyes, "Anything you attempt will only make your death... when it comes...that much worse." She turned to the front and whispered brokenly, "Trust me, I know."

Ulric reined Toots in and wrapped his arms tight around Ingrid. He rested his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes, breathing deeply of her scent. "I love you."

"I know you do." She clung to his arms wrapped around her middle and twisted at the waist to face him. "But I was left with a daily reminder of the folly in trying to change-"

He silenced her with a gentle kiss that quickly became more passionate. She clutched him to her with desperate urgency. Ulric rested his forehead against hers when they broke the kiss and murmured, "I will not lose you without a fight."

Ingrid closed her eyes and kissed the corner of his mouth as she caressed his jaw. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

He raised his hand, pinching his thumb and forefinger together. "An inkling..."

Ingrid kissed him again and then pulled away. A few moments passed in silence before she whispered, "It is perfectly normal to be afraid."

Ulric scoffed. He clicked his tongue and kicked Toots into motion. "I'm not acting out of fear."

"Then, why?"

He glanced down at her before turning his attention back to the road, "Because I'm not willing to sit back and allow death to take me just yet...not if I can do something to prevent it."

She settled against his chest, and they covered the next mile in silence. Magnus rode ahead, surveying the area around them and humming softly. Heavy clouds lumbered across the sky, scattering large fluffy flakes of snow that quickly covered their tracks.

Ulric watched the sky, attempting to judge how long they might have before it became too dangerous to continue their journey.

Ingrid twisted to look at him and asked, "What are you afraid of?"

He stared down at her. His heart gave a funny little kick in his chest, and butterflies filled his stomach. Had she not figured that out yet? Wasn't it obvious? He thought it was.

For a brief moment, he considered giving his ready reply of being afraid of dark confined spaces. But instead, he leaned down close and told Ingrid a far greater truth. "You."

He kissed her cheek and clarified his reply, "I love my family and have risked my life many times to keep them safe. But you—you hold far greater power over me than even my deepest affection for them. I would do anything for you...even if it means I must challenge the gods so that we may have the opportunity to grow old together."

She swallowed and blinked back tears before facing once more. "What if you fail and my vision remains unchanged?"

Ulric rubbed his hand up and down her right arm. "Then, at least, I will die knowing I tried."

"You're an oracle?" Magnus murmured, giving Ingrid a strange look. "I'd sensed something different about you but couldn't pinpoint what it was."

He maneuvered his mount around a large, snow-capped rock in the road and glanced at Ulric, "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but it's a bit difficult not to do when I'm right next to you in the middle of nowhere. Why didn't you tell me sooner that we were riding to your death?"

Ulric shrugged, "Didn't want to give you an excuse to make good on your threat." He adjusted the reins in his grip and nudged Toots into a faster pace. "And in any event, I don't plan on dying."

Magnus fell in beside him, laughing, "Perhaps you're more like your brothers than I first thought."