by Jody Hedlund
The crowds around me parted, and all eyes came to rest upon me, including Vilmar’s. Gone was the tenderness and affection from moments ago. Instead, his expression was as regal and haughty as the queen’s. “Yes, she is the one.”
“Step forward, Lady Haleigh.” The queen beckoned me with one of her bejeweled hands. “We shall have the betrothal ceremony this very instant before the hour grows too late.”
My objection rose but lodged in my throat. I didn’t want to agree to Vilmar’s plans, but if this was what I must do to destroy Grendel and the queen’s yearly sacrifice, then I must endeavor to stay strong.
As one of the queen’s priests made his way down the staircase, I approached Vilmar, my steps hesitant. I thought I’d known this handsome man, but he’d withheld so much of who he really was from me. What else hadn’t he told me?
But even as I battled mistrust, my own deception unveiled before me. I was hypocritical. I’d been less than honest with him about my intention to fight Grendel. How could I condemn him for not saying anything to me about being a prince when I’d withheld so much? If he was participating in some kind of testing to determine his worthiness in becoming the next king, perhaps he’d been bound to secrecy regarding his identity.
As I took my place next to Vilmar, he held himself rigidly and stared straight ahead. I did likewise, already missing the closeness and sweetness we’d shared when we danced. The queen remained at the balcony, while the priest took his place in front of us. He uttered a short prayer, read a Scripture verse, and then joined our right hands.
With Vilmar’s fingers holding mine, I wanted to believe this was somehow real, that he loved me enough to promise me forever. But the reality was, he’d brought up marriage as a means of rescuing me from a dire predicament. Nothing more. After all, hadn’t he told me back at the mine that he was in no position to make promises to any woman, no matter how much he’d grown to care about her?
Vilmar repeated his vow after the priest. “In the name of our Lord, I, Prince Vilmar, promise that I will one day take thee as my wife, according to the ordinances of God and the holy church.”
I repeated my vow, and then the priest placed the cross from his necklace on top of our hands and bound them together with the leather string. “We here bear witness to thy solemn proposal, and I declare thee betrothed. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
The priest unwrapped the strap, stood back, and made the sign of the cross. “You may seal your vow with a kiss.”
Vilmar shifted slightly, hesitantly. I guessed he was having second thoughts about this betrothal. It was legally binding and could not be broken except for an annulment. If he survived the terrible fight ahead, I would grant him the annulment. I wanted him to know that, but I could not say that now.
Instead, I lifted my face, giving him access to the required kiss.
His gaze landed full upon my lips, and his pupils darkened with wanting. As he bent his head, I tingled with anticipation, though I knew I shouldn’t. Nevertheless, as he pressed into me, I gave way to the pleasure of his warmth and the fervency of his mouth against mine. The fusing lasted but a few seconds before he tore himself away.
I longed to gather him back and kiss him again. But with so many people watching us and with the strike of the midnight hour drawing ever nearer, I would have to be satisfied with the brief touch.
His fingers lingered against mine, and for an eternal, blissful second his beautiful eyes filled with something I could only describe as love. As quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a rigid wall. He released my hand and gave a curt nod, which I sensed was his farewell.
Chapter
17
Vilmar
I was ready to battle the berserker. Now that I’d secured Gabriella’s future, I could rest in the knowledge that if anything happened to me this night, she was my betrothed. The queen couldn’t touch her, and she’d find security in going to Scania. My family would take her in and provide for her out of loyalty to me. At least, I hoped they would.
My father and the Lagting would be disappointed in my rash decision to bind myself to Gabriella. Especially after they’d already begun negotiations with other countries in securing brides for each of us princes. But since I hadn’t been able to find a way to sneak her out of the grand hall, my pledge was the only way I could protect her.
The memory of her lips—the soft pressure of her response, eager and with an edge of passion—beckoned me to return and explore. But I pulled myself up and took another step away, not daring to look at her again, lest I find myself unable to stop from kissing her again.
Yearning for her would only make the fight against Grendel all the more distracting and difficult. I would fare better entering the battle focused on what I must do and not on what I might lose.
“Since the hour draws nigh to Midsummer’s Eve,” the queen’s brittle voice commanded attention, “we have our champion who will fight against Grendel, and we are grateful for his willingness to try to make up for the sins of his father before him.”
The silence was broken by excited chattering and clapping.
I bowed my head to the queen, unwilling to meet her gaze lest she see my contempt. If my father had once been able to capture and subdue all the other berserkers, surely the queen could have contained this one. But I would not say so, not at this moment. I couldn’t jeopardize my precarious status. If she realized I was aware of her secret, she would make certain I died one way or another.
“Prince Vilmar shall be fitted with the best armor and best weapons Warwick has to offer,” the queen declared.
This time her announcement was met with cheering.
“My knights will escort you to the weapons room, where you will have access to the arms of your choosing.” She nodded toward one of the guards standing in the main doorway.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I started toward the door.
“In the meantime,” her voice trailed me, “we shall proceed with our Choosing Ceremony.”
My steps faltered, and I halted. The crowd grew silent, tension returning to the room and my body. Stiffly, I faced the queen once more. “There is no need for the choosing tonight, as I will slay the beast.”
Her lips curved into a slight smile, one that seemed to mock me. “I was abundantly clear that no one has ever fought Grendel and lived to tell about it.”
“Tonight I shall do just that.”
“You are quite confident, Your Highness.” Her smile crept higher. “But I am sure all my subjects will agree that we cannot take any chances. If you fail and we have not provided Grendel with a maiden, he will continue his rage throughout the land and kill countless innocent people this night.”
A foreboding chill slithered through my body like a serpent waiting to strike.
Likely seeing the chill upon my features, the queen waved a hand as though to dismiss me. “You need not worry, my dear cousin. I shall honor your betrothal to Lady Haleigh, and she will be exempt from the choosing—”
“No,” Gabriella said from where she still stood underneath the balcony. “If a maiden must still be sacrificed to Grendel, then I offer myself.”
“Gabriella, no,” I said harshly. “You will not do this.”
“This is why I came—”
“No, I cannot allow it.”
Her gaze reached across the distance between us and pierced me. The plea in her eyes and the sorrow there told me this was what she’d been preparing for all along. “If a maiden must go tonight to face Grendel, then I would it be me.”
I could feel the queen watching our interaction. Had she anticipated this? Was that why she protested so little to our betrothal? Perhaps she’d learned of our connection in the mine pits. If she hadn’t yet, she’d soon figure out why we were familiar with one another. And once learning of my part in the slave revolt, she’d make sure I never left her country. Now that she’d garnered my promise in front of witnesses that Scania couldn’t
hold Warwick responsible for my death, she’d discover some way to kill me and make it appear like an accident.
All the more reason I had to ensure that Gabriella left Warwick immediately. If she remained here alive, I had no doubt Queen Margery would use her to control me, for there was nothing I would not do for Gabriella, and the queen had certainly gleaned that by now.
“You must go,” I said more adamantly.
“Then you would have one of these other maidens face Grendel?” Gabriella glanced over the other young women standing amongst the crowd, their beauty and emerald gowns setting them apart from everyone else, along with the fear that had now returned to each of their faces.
One of the fair maidens sidled closer to her dance partner, a gray-haired man that must be her father. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head, his eyes bright with unshed tears.
How could I stand by and allow any of these women to face Grendel? I couldn’t. And yet, what alternative did I have? If not Gabriella, the queen would select another. After the weeks of training, at least Gabriella would have some knowledge of how to defend herself.
Was this, then, our only choice? That we sacrifice our lives to Grendel together?
Gabriella nodded. She must have seen my capitulation in the droop of my shoulders.
“Your Highness.” She lowered herself to one knee, bowing before the queen. “According to the custom of the Midsummer’s Eve ball, I offer myself as a willing sacrifice this night.”
I’d learned enough about the ceremony to know that if a maiden offered herself voluntarily, the queen and her priests must still decide. Of course, they could only use the heart of the fairest maiden in their alchemy. Was it wrong of me to pray that they would determine one of the other women was more beautiful than Gabriella?
But even as I fought for some glimmer of hope, the queen extended her scepter. “I accept your offer.” Her voice rang over the assembly. “And on behalf of the people of Warwick, I thank you for your willingness to sacrifice one life for many.”
Gabriella bent her head so her copper tresses fell and covered her face. Even in her state of subservience, she was exquisitely beautiful, so much so that a mingling of helplessness and rage gripped my heart. I could do nothing but spin and stalk out of the grand hall.
An hour later, attired in full armor, I stood on the cliff overlooking Wraith Lake and the grassy pit below that was to be my battleground. It was not lost on me that, in leaving the mine, I’d exchanged one pit for another.
Though I’d donned armor from the queen’s weapon room and equipped myself from amongst the offerings there, I kept my seax at the front of my belt, along with the sword my father had given me on the day of commissioning for the Testing. I’d left the special weapon with Lord Kennard upon our arrival in Warwick, and somehow Ty had managed to get him word of my predicament. He’d only just arrived in the capital city, breathless and worried, pleading with me to reconsider my course of action.
“I’ve been present at the sacrifice before.” He spoke gravely beside me, staring out over the walled area below. “And to this day, I have nightmares of the monster and his bloodthirsty massacre.”
“I thank you for your concern, my lord. But I’ve already made up my mind to face Grendel, and nothing can convince me otherwise.” Especially now that Gabriella would be there. I was left with no choice but to kill him before he reached her.
“This sacrifice exceeds the bounds of your Testing.” He was familiar with our Testing, since he’d lived in Scania during the years he’d been Warwick’s ambassador.
“I have given up the Testing.”
At the finality of my statement, Lord Kennard fell silent, his heavy breathing filling the night air along with the calls from the guards now stationing themselves around the upper perimeter of the pit. I searched for Gabriella but could not find her yet amongst those who’d gathered.
The crowd was small, encompassing only those who’d attended the ball. I’d learned the queen required them to also watch the sacrifice, heaping upon them only more trauma.
The rest of the citizens of Warwick were hiding behind closed doors, no doubt praying Grendel would be satisfied with this sacrifice, so he didn’t break free of the pit and seek more death and destruction.
The guards began to light the torches in the cliff walls, illuminating the arena. Already I could make out the forms of the livestock, resting peacefully in the grass, heedless of the brutality to be unleashed upon them erelong.
I could only pray the torchlight wouldn’t reveal the boat where Ty, Curly, and the others waited, ready to lend me aid when I signaled for them.
“You may have given up the Testing,” Lord Kennard finally said, “but the Testing has not given up you.”
“I have no time for riddles, my lord. I give you leave to speak freely.”
The stately man clasped my shoulder the way my father might have had he been here. The pressure was kindly, even against my armor. “The engraving on your sword.” He nodded toward my belt.
Be slave of all. I skimmed my fingers over the words before I sheathed the weapon.
“During my ride to Kensington,” Lord Kennard said, “I have been pondering the message behind the engraving.”
“Then you are not alone in your musings, for I have sought to know the true meaning of my challenge since the first day.”
“I cannot lay claim to knowing the true meaning as you call it. But I could not keep from thinking of the Scripture verses connected to the words of your engraving. They are found in the Gospel of Mark and say something like: The Lord did not come to be served, but to serve, and to lay down his life as a ransom for many.”
Since leaving Scania, I’d had no access to the rare holy verses and hadn’t been able to put my challenge into the context of Scripture. I shouldn’t have been surprised to find so strong an admonition, but I was nonetheless.
“While I cannot condone what you are doing here tonight,” Lord Kennard continued, “I believe you are following in Christ’s footsteps in being willing to serve, even unto death itself. In doing so, you are fulfilling your Testing.”
“I’m battling Grendel for myself, not for the Testing.” I glanced around, making sure none of the queen’s men were nearby to hear my confession. “As I said, I have given the Testing up. Even if I should live past tonight, I cannot go back to being a slave in the mines.”
He observed my face, then lowered his voice. “Then the rumors regarding the slave revolt are true?”
I nodded.
“You were noble to attempt to end the slavery. But as long as gems lie in the depths of the mountains, the queen will enslave the people.”
All the more reason why I needed to kill Grendel tonight and put an end to the queen’s alchemy. If I didn’t save Gabriella’s life, her heart would be the next used in making the jewels grow in the mine pits. I couldn’t fathom having even a piece of her return to the dark passageways. The very idea made me sick to my stomach.
More torches glowed around the tall stone walls, shining down onto the pastureland below. I wasn’t sure if I should be glad for the full lighting that would allow me to see my enemy’s every move or appalled that the gruesome battle must be displayed so spectacularly.
As I studied the grassy area and attempted to gain a familiarity with the setting, my gaze snagged on a stone table at the center. Upon it stood a beautiful woman, her long hair rippling in the breeze along with her emerald gown.
Even from a distance, I had no trouble recognizing Gabriella or the chains linked around each of her feet, binding her to the altar with no way to escape.
Panic surged into my veins. Though I wasn’t surprised by her presence in the pit, I was surprised by the intensity of my reaction. I loathed the prospect of her being anywhere near the berserker. Loathed the queen for her greed and cruelty. And loathed myself for not rescuing her the way I’d intended.
Once Grendel arrived, I could not fail her again.
C
hapter
18
Gabriella
I stared out over the gently rolling waves of Wraith Lake, waiting for my first glimpse of Grendel rowing toward the shore.
I tried to still my shaking, especially in my hands. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to plunge my knife into the primary artery in Grendel’s neck. I needed to remain calm and steady, since I’d likely only get one chance to stab him before he sliced into me.
At a distant howl, my skin crawled. Was that Grendel leaving his cave dwelling?
I glanced to the sky overhead to gauge the passing of time, but the cloud cover remained thick, showing neither moon nor stars. However, the torches above had been lit, the flames throwing off flickering shadows that danced in merriment around me, as if the wraiths had come out of the depths of the mountain to celebrate my sacrifice.
My thoughts returned to Vilmar’s stricken face when I’d offered myself as the fairest maiden. He’d wanted so badly to save me from facing Grendel that he’d pledged me his troth even though doing so would bring censure from his family, especially if he was next in line to be king of Scania.
By volunteering to be the chosen one, I’d ruined his well-intentioned plans. But I prayed he understood I couldn’t run away from Grendel and Warwick. If I left and tried to ignore the problems, they’d haunt me the rest of my life. I’d never have peace because I would always regret not confronting the evil when I’d had the opportunity.
Another howl filled the air, this time closer. Grendel. He was on his way.
The people on the cliffs above grew silent. In their elevated positions, they could see farther than I could. But even with their view, they’d take no joy in watching Grendel come ashore and destroy everything and everyone in his path. They would be horribly saddened and sickened by all they witnessed, just as I’d been during the one year the queen had ordered all of her advisors and their families to attend.
I shifted, the manacles around my ankles tight and digging into my skin. The short length of chain holding me in place clinked. I wouldn’t be able to run away from Grendel when he charged toward me. I would hardly be able to move to protect myself.
