Insults flew. Freca drew a dagger. Helm, unarmed, stepped forward. One punch—a single, terrible blow from the Hammerhand—caved in Freca’s skull. He died on the council floor.

She devised a desperate plan. The Hornburg had a secret drain—a narrow culvert that led from the keep to the base of the ravine. While Wulf prepared a final assault, Héra led thirty riders through the icy water, emerging behind the enemy camp.

Wulf besieged the Hornburg. He had no siege towers, only time and ice. Winter came with a fury—blizzards that turned the ravine into a white tomb. Inside, they boiled leather for food. Outside, Wulf’s men froze in their tents.

She crowned Fréaláf, Helm’s nephew, as the first king of the new line. Then she took a simple horse, her father’s old shield, and rode south. Some say she went to find Léof’s body. Others say she went to slay the Corsairs who had armed Wulf.