Page 30 of Wolf of the Nordic Seas (Valiant Vikings #2)

A Trinity of Ljósálfar Healers

Near the roaring flames of the massive stone hearth, úlf was lying on a straw pallet upon the floor of the Great Hall where úlvhild and Ylva knelt at his side, examining the injured arm. The úlfhéenar, several knights, and castle servants hovered nearby, watching with Oda, Elfi, and Sk?rde as the two healers tended the atrocious wound. Even from this distance as Njord entered the vast chamber, he could see that the ugly gash had poisoned.

Hideous black streaks coiled like serpents around the inflamed flesh, curling up and down úlf’s entire arm. A noxious yellow liquid oozed from the gaping wound, the revolting stench of decay fouling the oppressive air. Grey tinged his pallid skin, and a sheen of sweat covered his brow, causing the thick blond hair to cling to his scalp. úlf wheezed and spluttered, his labored breathing raspy, ragged, and rough.

When Elfi spotted him approach with áki, she rushed to Njord’s side. “He won’t awaken. And his breathing is becoming worse. Ylva says these are the same symptoms Sk?rde had when he was sliced by the Raven Warrior’s sword. A Dokkálfar blade.” Dread seeped into Elfi’s quavering voice.

úlvhild arose and scurried over to Elfi and Njord. “You must go to the waterfall cave and summon Lugh. Have him come to the castle with his sister Luna.” She glanced at the elaborate weapon sheathed at áki’ s hip. “And tell him to bring his Elven Mirror.”

“I’ll run upstairs and grab Dag’s flute. I’ll be right back.” Elfi dashed out the door. When she returned a few moments later, Ylva and Sk?rde strode over to join them.

“I’ve tried using nen glir —the Ljósálfar magic that Luna gifted me when I married Sk?rde,” Ylva said as her husband slid a supportive arm behind her back. “It enables me to cure a Dokkálfar wound. Although it healed Sk?rde of a nearly fatal injury years ago, nen glir did nothing to improve úlf’s wound, despite the similar symptoms. And úlvhild used galdr magic, which was ineffective as well.” Alarm furrowed Ylva’s brow.

“We must go quickly to the waterfall cave and summon Lugh.” Elfi hooked her arm through Njord’s, attempting to lead him away.

“My ships are ready, and the tide is right. I’m leaving now as well.” áki inclined his head to Sk?rde. “I return to Heieabyr. To serve your brother, the new Danish king.” He glared at Njord. “My men are anxious to resume Viking raids. We’ve had enough of Norman farmlands.”

“Leave your Byzantine dagger with me. I will need it to cure úlf.” A venerated volva with divine seidr magic of the Nordic gods, úlvhild’s command could not be ignored.

áki unstrapped the snakeskin sheath from his hip and handed it to her in sullen silence. Jaw clenched, he spun on his heels and stormed out of the Great Hall.

“It’s for the best that he is returning to Denmark. If áki remained at étretat, either he or Bodo would end up dead. One of them would kill the other.” Sk?rde watched áki disappear through the enormous double oak doors. “My brother Sweyn will appreciate him on Viking raids as he pillages and plunders England.” Sk?rde scoffed. “He might even appoint áki as warlord of his entire Danish army.”

“You must hurry.” úlvhild redirected their attention back to the wounded úlf. “Go at once to the waterfall cave. And make sure that Lugh brings not only his sister Luna, but his Elven Mirror as well. ”

“We’ll be back as soon as possible. Gods willing, with Luna and Lugh.” Njord grasped Elfi’s hand and led her away as úlvhild and Ylva returned to úlf’s side.

****

Amidst the roar of the cascade, droplets of mist, and salty spray of the sea, Elfi played Dag’s flute, and Lugh soon appeared from the dark recesses of the waterfall cave. His radiant smile disappeared when he noted the concern etched on Elfi’s face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“úlf is gravely wounded. úlvhild sent us here to summon you.” Elfi’s voice cracked as she glanced up at Lugh. “We need Luna to help us heal him. And your Elven Mirror, to reveal the dark magic which is poisoning him as we speak.” Urgency laced her nearly breathless whisper. “Please hurry. Njord and I shall wait here until you return. We’ll go back to the castle together.”

Lugh inclined his pale blond head. “I’ll fetch Luna—and my Elven Mirror—and return at once.” Conviction blazing in his Elven eyes, he rushed back through the portal to álfheim .

Elfi stared at the turquoise waters of the Mermaid Cove. She spun toward Njord, a sudden idea illuminating her hopeful face. “We must bring úlf here! Perhaps I can heal him with sjósongr .” Nearly breathless with exhilaration, she stammered, “When I went to the ?le de Sein, the Gallizenae told me that the sjóv?ttir magic I inherited from my mother can also be used for healing. By cleansing away illness—with the curative song of the sea .” Elfi grasped Njord’s hands, her eyes widened with excitement. “Lugh and you can carry him here. For me to wield my magic and heal him!” Her brows furrowed, as if she’d remembered something. “But úlvhild’s vision foresaw a trio of healers.” She chewed on her lower lip. “We’ll bring Ylva here, too. Perhaps together, we can heal him.”

Njord sensed the presence of the Ljósálfar duo coming through the portal. “Lugh and Luna are here.” When their silvery heads and shining eyes emerged from the darkness, Elfi led them from the waterfall cave, through the forested tunnel, back to the sacred grove.

Inside the Great Hall, úlvhild rushed forward to greet the Ljósálfar. She spoke to Luna. “Ylva tried healing úlf with nen glir . I’ve used my new magic of sólrún, hoping that the gift from the Goddess Sól would dispel the darkness that afflicts him. But neither enchantment worked. He worsens by the hour.”

Elfi’s eager voice was laced with hope. “We must bring him to the waterfall cave. Perhaps I can cure him with sjósongr.” Seeking support for her suggestion, she frantically searched the faces of the volva , Ylva, and Luna, before resting her desperate gaze on Njord.

“It’s worth a try. Nothing else has worked. Let’s go quickly.” Njord scanned the Great Hall, looking for Bodo, but didn’t see him anywhere. He gestured to Njáll, Sk?rde, and Lugh. “Let’s transport him on the straw pallet. We’ll each take a corner—and carry him to the waterfall cave through the sacred grove.” When Njord grasped an edge near úlf’s head, the three other men quickly complied.

“Ylva, Luna, and úlvhild—come with us. Perhaps a combination of our magic will succeed.” Grabbing a pewter chalice from a nearby table, Elfi motioned for the healers to join her and followed the men carrying úlf out the exit doors.

****

When they emerged from the forested tunnel onto the grassy meadow near the waterfall cave, Njord guided the men behind the cascade and into the grotto, where they laid the pallet on the limestone floor.

Elfi showed them the goblet she had brought from the Great Hall. “I’ll be right back. I need to fill this with sea water.” She turned to Ylva and indicated the satchel slung over the healer’s shoulder. “Do you have more strips of linen?”

Ylva nodded and patted the leather bag. “Yes, and a jar of garlic and honey ointment.”

Elfi exhaled in relief. “Good. Please remove the bandages so I can pour the ocean water directly onto the wound.” She darted behind the waterfall and descended the grassy embankment down to the sandy shore of the Mermaid Cove .

While the women removed úlf’s bandages, Njord watched Elfi dip the goblet below the surface of the water. She rose to her feet and wiped the chalice with the hem of her gown. Holding the goblet high so it wouldn’t spill, she climbed back up the path, strode across the meadow, and slipped behind the waterfall to enter the cave.

“I have never used sjósongr for healing,” she admitted, kneeling on the floor beside úlf. “I hope this will cleanse the poison from his wound.” She carefully poured sea water from the chalice into the gruesome gash, murmuring a melodic incantation that reminded Njord of úlvhild’s vardlokkur chants. Elfi dipped her fingers into the goblet, spreading sea water onto úlf’s stricken face, but even after she’d concluded her spell, it was clear that there had been no change. On the contrary, úlf’s pallor turned a more deathly grey.

úlvhild handed Lugh the snakeskin sheath containing áki’s Byzantine blade “This is the dagger which sliced his arm. Can your Elven Mirror reveal the source of the malevolent magic?”

“The Ljósálfar light illuminates that which is enshrouded in darkness. It will display the origin of the enchantment.” Lugh carefully withdrew the blade and laid the snakeskin scabbard on the floor before his enormous, booted feet. From the dark green dragonscale sheath strapped at his waist, Lugh removed a silver mirror whose curved frame was etched with Elven scrolls and adorned with intricate swirls and gems which glittered like captured stars. The clear surface of the sparkling glass radiated an otherworldly glow, as if the essence of the moon—or a gildir starstone—glimmered from within.

áki’s blade gripped in one hand, Lugh held the Elven Mirror over the weapon with the other, peering into the luminous lens. Dread deepened his dark revelation. “A Dokkálfar blacksmith crafted this dagger...”

The Dokkálfar Blacksmith of Dorestad. Whom I must kill with my father’s Dwarven sword.

Njord squeezed Elfi’s hand at the thought of the impending voyage to ísland, which would now have to wait until—gods willing—úlf recovered. He glanced at the concerned companions gathered around the wounded wolf warrior, all of them mesmerized by Lugh.

Sk?rde placed a reassuring arm behind Ylva’s back.

úlvhild, enthralled by images in the Elven Mirror, strained to see what Lugh perceived.

And Njáll, standing across from Njord, couldn’t take his eyes off Luna.

Nor could the lovely Ljósálfar healer remove her otherworldly gaze from him.

Lugh’s resonant voice interrupted Njord’s intriguing observation.

“I see a volva, with flaming hair and crimson eyes … imbuing evil into the black obsidian stone of the Dokkálfar blade… and the trio of gems in the snakeskin sheath. The skull of a raven on a twisted staff…the skeletal side of the Goddess Hel.” Lugh looked up from the mirror, his expression grim as he met úlvhild’s rapt gaze. “She has imbued the blade with powerful seidr magic, concealed in a cloak of darkness…”

Golden eyes aglow with otherworldly sight, úlvhild’s ethereal voice was evanescent, as if emanating from between realms. “A trinity of female Ljósálfar must heal the wounded wolf in álfheim.” Her vision cleared, and she snapped to attention, grasping Ylva’s hands. “You must heal him with the curative magic of Divona, Celtic Goddess of the Sacred Springs.” úlvhild spun to Luna, her tone both a plea and command. “You must wield the magic of nen glir , the Light Elven song of water.” The volva smiled softly at Elfi, pushing a strand of light brown hair away from her bewildered face. “And you, daughter of Dúva, must cleanse him with sjósongr. In the Ljósálfar sea of álfheim.” Tossing her long, black hair over slender shoulders, úlvhild raised her arms to encompass the three women with outstretched hands. “A trinity of Ljósálfar healers. Wielding three different forms of curative magic through cleansing water. In the sacred realm of álfheim . Where the purity of Ljósálfar light will expel Dokkálfar darkness. And the wounded wolf will be cured. ”

Njord furrowed his brows, trying to make sense of the volva’s words. “I don’t understand.” He gazed down at the straw pallet where úlf clung desperately to life. “Luna and Lugh, as Ljósálfar, can transport a critically wounded patient to álfheim .” He searched úlvhild’s face, his mind reeling. “But only those with Ljósálfar blood or magic may cross the crystal bridge.” Njord glanced at Sk?rde’s priestess wife. “Ylva has the Light Elven magic of nen glir. But Elfi has neither Ljósálfar blood nor magic. How can she travel to álfheim ?”

As Njord gazed at Elfi, he noticed how úlvhild, Lugh, and Luna watched her expectantly, as if waiting for her to make a revelation. Elfi was agitated and restless, her eyes fixed on the stone floor of the cave. Why is she reluctant to speak? What is she hiding?

“Tell me, Elfi. What is it? I can sense you have something to say.” Njord took hold of her hand and led her to one side of the cave, affording them a bit more privacy. Why was guilt etched across her beautiful face? His heart hammered in his chest.

She gazed up at him, a contradictory blend of excitement and hesitation in her apprehensive eyes. Inhaling deeply—as if summoning the strength to tell him what she seemed so reluctant to share—she whispered, “I do have Ljósálfar blood in my body.” Grasping his hands, she squeezed them tight. “I carry your child. The thrice-blessed daughter of the Wolf of the Nordic Seas. Blessed with the blood of the úlfhéenar, the sjóv?ttir, and the Ljósálfar . Conceived in this waterfall cave.”

A deluge of thoughts flooded Njord’s mind. She carries my child! But the voyage to ísland will be dangerous…we shall battle the Dokkálfar. She must wield her sjósongr magic. And kill the troll. She has the skills of a shieldmaiden, the white wolf weapons, a trollkors talisman...

Elfi’s voice flowed, as if on a wave, bringing him back to the present. “Njord, you also have the blood of the Ljósálfar . Come with me to álfheim . Help Lugh carry the straw pallet. We must hurry. Two days have already passed, and a Dokkálfar wound is always fatal on the third day. Ylva, Luna, and I must heal úlf before it’s too late.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him back to where the others waited in the center of the cave. “Njord is coming with us. úlf is very heavy. He will help Lugh carry the bulk of the weight.”

Lugh nodded in agreement and strapped the black snakeskin sheath on his hip, below his dragonscale scabbard. He cautiously sheathed the Dokkálfar dagger as Ylva kissed Sk?rde goodbye.

“Take good care of Vivi. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Ylva smiled at Sk?rde, then turned to úlvhild and Luna. “When I received the gift of nen glir, years ago at my wedding, I remember thinking that one day, my Ljósálfar magic would lead me to álfheim . And so it shall.”

úlvhild kissed Elfi and Ylva on each cheek. “I shall make a sacrifice to Eir, the Goddess of Healing, and pray for úlf’s swift recovery. May the gods grant you safe passage to álfheim . And may the trinity of Ljósálfar healers save the wounded wolf.”

Njáll bent his dark head to kiss Luna’s pale hand, his lupine eyes aflame. “I know you will heal him. I sense it in my soul.”

Luna caressed his bearded cheek with delicate fingers. “Your belief in me will guide my magic. And my Ljósálfar light will burn bright.” A luminous smile lit up her whole face, basking Njáll in radiant light. “ Fardu vel . Until we meet again.”

Sk?rde, Njáll, and úlvhild waited and watched by the mouth of the waterfall cave, prepared to return to the castle.

Lugh grasped the front of the straw pallet, and Njord took hold of the end, coordinating their movements to lift úlf together.

With a wave goodbye and a fond farewell, the trinity of Ljósálfar healers followed Njord and Lugh through the portal of the waterfall cave.

To the Light Elven realm of álfheim.