Page 21 of Wolf of the Nordic Seas (Valiant Vikings #2)
Preparing to Depart
While Njord considered the implications of Skjold’s prophecy interwoven with his own, Jarl Rikard spoke to him from across the table. “Thorfinn will be most pleased and impressed with the new defensive structures you implemented. Those spiked palisades protruding from the moat will impale any enemies who manage to breach the outer wall. It was brilliant to model them after King Harald’s fortifications of the Danevirk in Denmark. And the mashrabiya along the castle ramparts—the murder holes , as the men call them,” he chuckled, “will thwart any future attacks on Chateau Blanc.”
Sk?rde washed down a mouthful of roast boar with a gulp of mead, nodding in agreement. “Everything is ready for Thorfinn’s return. You ride in the morning for Reims?”
“After Njord escorts Elfi to the waterfall cave.” The Duke of Normandy glanced at Njord. “When do you meet Lugh? ” he asked,
“Right after dagmál,” Njord replied, referring to the morning meal where Viking warriors and castle occupants broke their fast together in the Great Hall. “The Danish army will defend the castle with you and Varg,” he said to Bjarke, seated on his right. “And the úlfhéenar will be here at Chateau Blanc , should the Franks decide to attack in our absence.”
“I’ll take my personal guard of twenty, and two dozen Norman knights. Njord will have his Danish army, a garrison of a hundred men, and the úlfhéenar to defend étretat until I return. With the gods’ favor, Alberic of Soissons will deliver Thorfinn unharmed and return Dag’s Elven sword Galadir without incident. Assuming fair weather and no unforeseen delays, we’ll be back at Chateau Blanc in a fortnight.” Jarl Rikard drained his goblet, and a diligent servant promptly refilled it with mead.
Oda, resplendent in a fine wool gown of deep purple, graced Jarl Rikard with a gracious smile . “I shall have everything prepared for a splendid Haustblót Festival to celebrate your return with my son.” Tears brimmed in her wide, expressive eyes as she beheld Elfi. “And Dag’s burial with Galadir in the sacred grove.” The elderly chatelaine smoothed the sides of her gown, composing herself before addressing Sk?rde. “I shall have the steward Ingolf prepare rooms in the castle for your family when you return.”
As Sk?rde nodded his thanks, the music took a lively turn, with notes from flutes, lutes, and lyres wafting on the salty breeze. While servants cleared away empty platters and pewter plates, couples flocked to the grassy glen and began dancing around the fire.
When Vilde came to escort Oda to bed, Sk?rde stood and stretched his arms above his head, yawning like a burly bear. “Since my ship sails at first light, I’ll retire now as well. See you in the morning for dagmál . I bid you all goodnight.” The Count of the Pays de Caux nodded respectfully to those still seated at the table and, accompanied by his personal attendant Joffroi, headed away from the jubilant throng toward the enormous double oak doors leading into the castle.
úlvhild arose from her seat, clutching her feathered cloak in one hand and her carved wooden staff in the other. Her golden eyes glowed like the moonstone encased in ornate filigree at the top of her wooden staff. “I’ll circulate among the crowd. Cast my runes…foretell futures…earn a bit of coin.” Illuminated by silvery moonlight, the volva’s gleaming white teeth were a sharp contrast with the deep blue woad and the black Nordic runes painted across her exquisite, angular face. “See you in the morning. Fardu vel. ”
Jarl Rikard summoned his nearby awaiting attendants as he, too, arose from the table. “The stable hands will ready the horses in the morning. I’ll depart as soon as you return from the waterfall cave.” The Duke of Normandy bent to gallantly kiss Elfi’s hand. “May the gods grant you safe passage to the ?le de Sein as you learn to wield your mother’s power. Au revoir, chère Elfi . Odin willing, we shall meet again very soon.” In a grand ducal procession, Richard the Fearless withdrew from the festive wedding feast and retired to his private chambers within the castle.
After Jarl Rikard had departed, Njord addressed Bjarke and Varg, the two highest-ranking huscarls among Lord Thorfinn’s hird of elite warriors defending le Chateau Blanc. “My Danish army from Ribe—and the úlfhéenar — will help you defend the castle.” He eyed Bjarke warily. “Although the Count of Soissons has no choice but to surrender Lord Thorfinn in Reims, the Franks might very well take advantage of Jarl Rikard’s absence to launch another attack.”
Bjarke fixed Njord with the resolute stare of a seasoned commander. “We’ll stock the mashrabiya murder holes with pitch, barrels of pine oil, and arrows for flaming projectiles. With boulders for the ballistae and trebuchets along the ramparts.”
A garish grin spread across Varg’s scarred, bearded face. “And quicklime to burn their eyes and lungs.”
Satisfied with the defensive preparations, Njord nodded and drained his goblet. “ Vel gert. Très bien fait,” he said, congratulating them in Old Norse and the Norman French he was learning as the future Count of étretat. “Chateau Blanc —and all of étretat—will be well defended in your capable hands.” He stood, took hold of Elfi’s hand, and raised her to her feet. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I intend to dance with my lovely betrothed.”
Njord led Elfi toward the same spot under the trees where they had danced several times before, pulling her close and swaying to the music under the luminous full moon. As she gazed up at him, he glimpsed a contradictory blend of excitement and reluctance sparkling in her sea green eyes.
“I cannot wait for tomorrow—to see Lugh again. And the white wolf weapons he has crafted.” She tugged on her tempting lower lip. “Although I’m looking forward to the voyage to the ?le de Sein , I’m nervous about meeting the mermaids of the Gallizenae . Yet thrilled about wielding my inherited power.”
“You have the valiant Viking heart of a shieldmaiden, like the Valkyrie Brynhildr.” He kissed her full, irresistible mouth. “When you return to Chateau Blanc , you’ll have an arsenal of lethal weapons. Your sword, your shield… and the sea .” Her beautiful face alight with delight, Elfi melted into his arms.
Laughing and holding hands, Sif and Bodo—no longer hindered by his limp—dashed across the meadow to join them. Sif’s large brown eyes glimmered with anticipation as she whispered breathlessly to Elfi. “The crowd has thinned. We can slip away now. Do I have your permission to leave?”
Elfi kissed Sif’s cheek. “Of course. Remember—knock three times in the morning when you come to the hidden door.” She watched as Bodo obtained a torch from a nearby servant, lit it from the bonfire, and led Sif away from the castle toward his stone cottage in the village.
A lusty gleam in her eye and a sultry smile on her beautiful face, Elfi rose up on tiptoes and murmured in Njord’s sensitive lupine ear. Her warm breath was a subtle caress on his scarred, bristled cheek. “Our last night together before we must part. Let’s make it memorable.”
A surge of desire crashed through Njord like the surf slamming into the white chalk cliff.
****
Moonlight danced on the white capped waves far below the cliff. The tangy brine of the sea wafted in through the open window as Elfi led Njord into her chamber. He lit the beeswax candle on the table, returned the pine torch to the metal sconce on the wall in the corridor, and entered Elfi’s bedroom, bolting the thick oaken door behind him.
Elfi locked the door of the antechamber which connected to Oda’s private quarters. Eyes widened with wondrous delight, she slipped into Njord’s open arms. Her hands slid up under his dark green tunic, eager fingers caressing his back as she suckled the base of his neck. “Take this off.”
He quickly complied with a wolfish grin.
She nuzzled the dark hair on his chest, inhaling his scent deep into her lungs. The intoxicating blend of leather, woodsmoke, and musky male stirred her soul and sent liquid warmth straight to her core. Even her toes tingled with desire. By the gods, I want him!
He unstrapped his sheathed sword and stood it against the wall near the table. Removing his black leather boots, he quickly shed his black woolen breeches and black linen hose. Like a Norse god in all his glory, Njord stood magnificently naked before her, his aroused body at full attention under her appreciative, admiring gaze.
A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. “See what you do to me? Let’s get you out of this gown.” He unlaced the back of her gathered bodice and slipped it down her body. It pooled into a grey puddle on the gleaming pinewood floor.
She stood nude before him, limbs quivering with anticipation. The moonlight caressed her skin, and the cool salty night breeze made her pert nipples long for the warmth of his lips.
With a groan that was more of a growl, he pounced, pulling her against his hardened warrior body. He gripped her hips, grinding against her belly as he bent to claim her lips like a predator devouring his prey.
His tongue penetrated her open mouth, probing and prodding in the same relentless rhythm he would soon use to impale her lower body and rock between her thighs. When Njord lowered his lips to suckle her breasts, Elfi’s knees buckled, and he laid her gently upon the feather bed. He spread her legs wide, his warm mouth and wonderfully wicked tongue lapping and tugging at her tender folds. He plunged first one, then two fingers inside her, thrusting with the same rhythm as the tip of his tongue circling her sensitive bud. Like an impossibly taut bow string, the tension in her body increased until she snapped, a soaring arrow released high into the starry night sky.
“The nectar of the gods.” Njord licked his lips and stared into her eyes, a primal hunger on his bearded face as he positioned himself between her shaking thighs. He slid his hands under her hips, tilting her up to receive him, and plunged in deep, pummeling her with the same fury as the sea against the rocky shore. With a savage thrust, he sunk into the hilt, convulsing and filling her with his seed.
After a few moments, he laid down at her side, cradling her over his thundering heart. “I love you, Elfi.” His deep voice reverberated into her very bones. “I miss you already. May the gods guide you on your voyage to the ?le de Sein .” He stroked her long hair and kissed the top of her head. “And bring you safely back to me.”
Wrapped in his arms, aglow in his love, Elfi watched the wispy clouds float across the full moon. Snug in his sinewy embrace, she slept soundly until dawn.
When she awoke to the squawk of gulls and gannets and the mauve sky of first light, a rod of iron pressed urgently against her bottom, Njord nuzzled the back of her neck, lifted one of her legs, and penetrated her from behind. “I love this position,” he murmured into her ear. “Because I can do this.” Lowering her raised leg to rest over his own, he caressed the little nub between her thighs with a long, skilled finger. As he pumped mercilessly into her, he firmly rubbed the sensitive bud. When waves of unbearable pleasure washed over her, she clenched him tight, the contractions of her climax extracting his seed.
“Mmm…” he hummed, the vibrations of his low voice rippling down her spine. “The best way to start the morning.” He inhaled deeply and hummed again. “With your scent on my mustache and your taste on my lips. I shall think of you all day long, with every breath I take.”
Elfi smiled, sighing in satisfaction. Her quivering legs were still weak from the intensity of their passion. “I love that position, too.” She stretched languidly in the bed. “I hate to get up, but Sif and Bodo will be here soon.” Rising to her feet, she fetched a fresh blue gown and chemise from the wooden trunk at the foot of the bed, which she quickly donned before picking the grey gown up off the floor, folding it, and tucking it into the satchel on her vanity table.
“Do you have everything packed?” Njord pulled on his hose, breeches, and tunic, slipping huge feet into his deerskin leather boots.
“I do,” she said, securing Dag’s flute into a leather pouch which she wrapped within the grey gown inside the satchel. “Lugh said there would be shelter on the island, and plenty of fresh fish, so I’ll need my eldst?l, to make fires for cooking.” She placed the firesteel tool into the leather belt at her waist. “I’m bringing my antler comb, mint leaves and a twig to clean my teeth, and two gowns for a change of clothing.” She patted the leather satchel. “It’s all in here.”
Just as Njord belted his sword, three knocks sounded upon the hidden door. “I’m going back to my longhouse to speak with my men. And I need to find áki.” He pulled her close and kissed her goodbye, his full lips lingering on hers. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll meet you in the Great Hall, and we’ll head to the waterfall cave.”
“That’s perfect.” Elfi lifted the tapestry and unlocked the wooden door.
Joy glinting in her big brown eyes, Sif smiled from the top stair. A grinning Bodo—holding a lit torch—stood at her side.
“I’ll grab a torch for us and be right back.” Sif dashed into the corridor and returned with a pine-tipped flame that she’d fetched from a wall sconce. Together, she and Elfi escorted their úlfhéenar lovers to the bottom of the castle keep.
“See you in the Great Hall soon for dagmál .” Torch held high, Bodo disappeared with Njord into the tunnel leading to the sacred grove.
Elfi bolted the heavy latch on the solid oak door at the base of the stairwell and, as Sif held the torch to light their way, climbed back up the steps to her private chambers.
Once they had both entered the room, Elfi closed and bolted the hidden door, lowered the tapestry, and hugged an exuberant Sif, who had just returned the torch to the wall sconce in the hull. “I’ll unlock the door to the antechamber,” she whispered, swiftly slipping across the room. “Your mother and my amma will be both be up very soon.” Her task complete, she settled onto the chair at the vanity table just as Oda appeared in the doorway.
“Everything ready for your voyage?” Concern crinkled the thin skin around her amma’s worried eyes.
Elfi nodded. “Sif is braiding my hair, and I’m meeting Njord in the Great Hall. After we break our fast, he and I will head to the waterfall cave. When he returns to the castle, Jarl Rikard will ride to Reims to fetch faeir . Oh, Amma , I’m positively thrilled!” She squeezed the gnarled hand which Oda had placed on her shoulder. “I’ll finally receive the white wolf weapons Lugh has crafted. Meet the Gallizenae and learn to wield my mother’s power on the ?le de Sein . And come back here for the Haustblót Festival — to celebrate faeir ’s return and Dag’s burial with Galadir in the sacred grove.”
Oda kissed Elfi’s cheek. “I am thrilled, too, elska .” She smiled as Vilde entered the room to escort her downstairs for dagmál . “We’ll see you soon in the Great Hall.” With a swish of skirts and a clinking of keys, the elderly chatelaine of Chateau Blanc swept out the door.
Sif finished the elaborate braids on Elfi’s waist-length hair. She gestured to the leather satchel on the bedside table. “I’ll place this comb inside your bag. Do you need anything else?”
“Just the necklace Njord gave me,” she replied, reaching for the three tiers of glittering gems which had once belonged to a Persian princess. “Lugh and úlvhild both said it exuded sjóv?ttir magic. I want to wear it to the ?le de Sein . Perhaps they will know the source of its power. Will you please fasten it for me?” Elfi pulled her hair to one side so that Sif could secure the clasp behind her neck. She gazed at her reflection in the polished silver oval upon her vanity table, smoothing the turquoise, emerald, and lapis lazuli gems against the base of her throat. Adjusting the trollkors talisman suspended over the gathered bodice of her deep blue gown, Elfi rose to her feet. “I’m ready now. I have everything packed.” She slung the satchel over her shoulder and smiled at Sif. “Let’s go down to the Great Hall.”
****
Njord and Bodo exited the tunnel through the cave in the sacred grove. As they strode through the forest, the early morning sunlight illuminating the dense trees, Njord reflected how something was odd about his úlfhéenar brother. For more than a week now, as the pack trained and hunted each evening in la Forêt du Loup , Njord had sensed a distinct change in Bodo. Although the innate bond which linked them was still there, it was weaker. And Bodo’s scent was off. Perhaps the enchanted ring which had cured his maimed foot was the reason for the difference. The hairs on the back of Njord’s neck bristled with unease.
“We úlfhéenar must help Bjarke and Varg to defend the castle while Jarl Rikard is gone. Although the Count of Soissons is forced to deliver Lord Thorfinn to him in Reims, the threat remains of another attack from the Frankish king Lothaire.” Njord eyed his lupine brother. His mentor. His father Brokk’s closest friend. Apprehension gnawed at his gut. Instinct told him Bodo was in danger. “Stay away from áki. The last thing we need is fighting amongst our own men. We must stay focused on the Franks.”
“Understood. Just keep áki away from Sif.” Challenge blazed in Bodo’s resolute gaze. “See you in the Great Hall.” Bodo doused his torch and headed toward the double entrance doors leading into the castle.
Njord exited the forest and returned to his longhouse. With luck, he’d find áki inside with the hersirs —the chieftains of Njord’s Danish army from Ribe. áki had been actively avoiding him ever since the wedding feast where he’d spat at Njord and accused him of no longer being a Dane.
As he entered the smoke-filled longhouse, Njord spotted the bearded blond warlord at one end of the table with the ten hersirs, finishing their dagmál of barley bread, baked cod, wild blackberries, and skyr . He sat down at the opposite end of the table to join them. Accepting a platter of food and a mug of ale from his thrall Hjordis, Njord addressed his alert men. “Jarl Rikard rides to Reims this morning. Odin willing, he’ll return in a fortnight with Lord Thorfinn.” He wolfed down half of the herbed fish on his wooden plate, followed by a few hearty gulps of ale. ‘In the meantime, we continue our daily training with the knights of Chateau Blanc .” Njord held áki’s fiery gaze, then made eye contact with each of the ten Danish hersirs seated at the table. “Your orders are to defend the castle and the village of étretat, should the Franks launch another attack.” He tore off a chunk of barley bread, sopped up the buttery rich herbal sauce of the baked cod, and popped it into his mouth. Lifting his mug of ale in tribute to his loyal men, he announced with a grin, “We shall celebrate the Haustblót Fall Harvest and feast upon Thorfinn’s return!”
Amidst hearty cheers of “Skál!”, the hersirs drained their mugs of ale and arose from the table. They exited the longhouse, with some men returning to work on the ongoing repairs in the village, and others headed toward weapons training and drills in the castle courtyard.
áki stood, prepared to leave with the men, but Njord stepped in front of him, blocking his retreat. “Stay away from Elfi’s servant, Sif. And the stonecutter, Bodo le Bo?teux .”
An ugly sneer stretched across áki’s sullen face. “He’s not Bodo le Bo?teux anymore, is he?” His guttural grunt was a taunting jeer. “Now that his limp is gone, I can challenge him to a fair fight. Man to man. Not man to cripple.”
Njord commanded his Danish warlord with the steely voice of the Jarl of Ribe. “I need you to defend the castle. And I need Bodo for the voyage to ísland. Stay away from Bodo and Sif. That is a direct order. Understood?”
Jaw clenched in rage, áki ground his teeth, defiant eyes aflame. “ Veit . Understood.” Fury blazed across his livid face. “But when you return from ísland , I’m going back to Denmark. By the gods of Asgard, I’m a Danish warlord, not a Norman knight! I’ll sail to Heieabyr. And serve Sweyn Forkbeard. The future King of Denmark!” Breath heaving, spittle flying from his bearded lips, áki spun on his heels and stormed out the door.
Njord poured another mug of ale, guzzled it, and slammed the chalice down on the table. Perhaps it was best for áki to return to Denmark. But in the meantime, he needed to stay away from Bodo and Sif. Exhaling forcefully to dispel his anger, Njord adjusted his white wolfskin cloak, nodded goodbye to the thralls clearing the table, and exited his longhouse.
As he headed toward the castle to meet Elfi, he spotted the stable hands loading up the horses for the impending voyage to Reims. . “Feed him extra oats and barley,” he ordered, referring to Rokr , Jarl Rikard’s white Percheron warhorse, named for his strength and bravery. “I’ll be back within the hour.”
****
Elfi had just finished her dagmál of oat porridge, honey, and wild elderberries when Njord entered the Great Hall. She arose from the wooden bench and strode over to join him at the castle entrance where Oda, Varg, Bjarke, úlvhild, and Jarl Rikard were saying goodbye to Sk?rde, who was prepared to depart.
Sk?rde shook hands with the men, kissed the women’s cheeks, and—with a husky smile and a hearty wave— headed down to the docks where his ship, Thor’s Roar , was ready to sail east to Dieppe and his clifftop castle of Chateaufort .
“The tents and supplies are being loaded onto the horses. My men and I shall be ready to ride upon your return,” Jarl Rikard informed Njord. Weathered wrinkles crinkled his expressive eyes as the Duke of Normandy turned toward Elfi. “May the white wolf weapons that Lugh crafts protect you with Ljósálfar magic. May the gods grant you a safe journey to the ?le de Sein . And bring you swiftly home.” Affectionately gripping her shoulders, Jarl Rikard kissed Elfi’s cheek and stepped back so that Oda could wrap her in a warm, grandmotherly embrace.
“May the Gallizenae teach you to wield your mother’s sjóv?ttir power. As you learn to control the sea!” A contradictory blend of exhilaration and apprehension warred in Oda’s worried gaze. She blinked back tears and hugged Elfi tight. “See you in three days.”
“We’ll take good care of the castle while you’re gone, Elfi. And when you return, we’ll prepare for the Haustblót festival , your father’s feast, and Dag’s burial with Galadir. A triple celebration, fit for the gods!” Bjarke kissed her hand, and Varg ducked his bearded chin.
úlvhild’s golden eyes glowed in the early morning light. She smiled at the three tiers of blue and green gems glittering around Elfi’s neck. “You will discover the magic of that necklace. It exudes a powerful aura.” Without the unnerving blue woad paint, the volva’s striking features were much less intimidating and much more human. “I’m anxious to hear all about it when you return.”
“Are you ready?” Njord grabbed a wall torch, his deep blue eyes washing over her like waves in the Mermaid Cove.
Heart pounding, limbs trembling, she nodded, hooking her arm through his. As adrenaline spiked in her veins, Elfi strode with her betrothed out of the castle.
Across the meadow strewn with fragrant chamomile, heather, and meadowsweet.
Through the sacred grove to the waterfall cave.