FEAST BEFORE FURY.

Snow fell over Eldhaven as if the gods themselves sought to quiet the city before the thunder of war. But inside the palace walls, nothing was still.

Couriers ran between towers. Bells rang in coded pulses. The gates were sealed. Food stores reinforced. Civilians evacuated to the southern quarter. The Flame Guard doubled its patrols.

Uthred stood at the western parapet, eyes narrowed toward the horizon. The river shimmered beneath the rising light of dawn. Somewhere beyond it, an army of berserkers drank and danced and sharpened their blades.

The Vikings had begun to move.

And they were not coming for gold.

They were coming for Elion.

Despite the looming siege, Vale insisted on one final feast.

"It's not for celebration," she said to Maera. "It's for courage. Let them taste memory before they spill blood."

The Flame Hall was draped in crimson. Roasted boar, honey-root vegetables, and black mead filled the tables. The surviving lords and captains ate in silence, forks clinking like distant blades.

At the high table, Uthred raised a horn.

"This feast is not to forget fear. It's to face it. Some of us will not see another morning. But if we are to fall, we fall knowing we stood together."

He turned to Vale.

She stood, golden in firelight.

"This kingdom was forged in silence. In cold. In exile," she said. "But tonight, we choose flame. Let it burn through our bones and carry our names past the edge of death. Let them come. Let them bleed trying."

The hall roared. Plates slammed. Knives clattered.

And beyond the walls, war drums echoed in reply.

Theron found him near the cistern tunnels—one of the king's personal scribes, face ghost-pale, hands ink-stained, voice shaking.

"He gave them the gate codes," Theron said. "Through the water channels beneath the river wall."

Uthred stared at the man, jaw clenched.

"Why?"

"They promised me safety," the man whimpered. "Not gold. Just a way out. I never meant—"

Uthred drew his dagger and drove it into the wooden table beside the traitor's neck.

"You meant to survive," Uthred said. "You still might. But not here."

He turned to Maera. "Put him in chains. He can watch the gate burn."

The attack began before midnight.

It started with mist—rolling low and thick over the river, unnatural and bitter-cold.

Then came the horns. Not one or two—but dozens, deep and monstrous, echoing off the stone walls like beast roars.

Flame Guards at the gate held their position. Uthred stood atop the wall, Aedric's sword on his back, a bow in his hand.

Shapes moved in the mist. Longboats. Shields. Firepots.

The first arrow flew. Then ten thousand more.

The siege had begun.

And Eldhaven answered with steel.

The Viking assault came not only from above—but below.

Through the sewers and channels they surged, led by berserkers howling with madness. The traitor's map had worked—part of the underwall was still exposed.

Maera led the defense personally.

"Block the tunnels with fire!" she screamed.

Pitch barrels rolled down into the darkness. Arrows followed. Screams echoed as the tunnels lit up, flames turning stone to furnace.

But it wasn't enough.

A group broke through.

Uthred met them in the narrow gate hall.

Steel clanged. Bodies slammed against stone.

He swung Aedric's sword with deadly precision—one cut, one body. His shoulder burned. Blood ran down his arm.

But he didn't stop.

Just as it seemed the gate would fall, a horn sounded from the southern tower.

Reinforcements. Flame Riders from the coast had arrived—a hundred horsemen clad in ash mail, led by Lord Halric of the Burning Coast.

They charged into the courtyard, lances low, scattering the invaders.

"Hold the gate!" Halric bellowed.

Uthred climbed the stairs, met Maera at the battlement. Both were bleeding. Breathing hard.

"It's not over," she said.

"No," he replied. "But it's not lost either."

In the royal chamber, Vale stood over Elion's cradle as flames danced in the hearth.

Then she saw it.

In the fire—three shadows.

One crown. One cradle. One blade.

And a voice:

> "Only one will survive the dawn."

She stumbled back.

And the fire flared.