At sunset, Ivar held another council. “The Tronds have failed us,” he said bluntly, and held up his hand to silence Sigurd. “Whatever the reason, they are not here, and we cannot count on them to arrive in time.” He eyed each man gravely. “The way I see it, we have but two paths open to us now. Fight, or fall back. It is a grim choice, for despite our defenses,” he motioned to the log wall that now stood four logs high and stretched the circumference of the hilltop, “there are not enough men among us to defeat Erik"s army if we choose to fight—unless the gods grant us victory. The second choice leaves a sour taste in my mouth. It shames me to think that I will be hiding from danger, that I cannot stand before Erik"s army and protect my lands. Yet, common sense tells me it is the wisest app
