“I was born to it.” Elakdon rose, and Father fell to his knees and bowed his head. So did Bo.
The following silence was deafening, and when the Earl dropped his bloody sword, it sounded like Thor had struck an anvil with the mighty Mjolnir as the metal struck the wooden boards and danced around.
Elakdon came to stand in front of Earl Trygve. “I have never had the honor of attending Ting. Such are not our ways. But that I am introduced to you now is because my eyes are changing, and you yourself know that I was sent off mere months ago. Our eyes do not usually take the proof of our godly heritage until several human lifetimes after. Only a King’s or a Queen’s does. We rise fast to be strong. We rise fast to be recognized. We rise fast so that we may take action when needed.”
The Earl sat slowly, his gaze glued to Elakdon’s eyes. “What actions are needed?”
That was fear lacing his voice.
“The gods are being threatened by the men of the cloth, demanding that the people of this land stop blóting to their honor. Whether we carry their magic in our eyes or not, the men of the cloth demand the same of us. To denounce our gods, to denounce our ways, and to let ourselves…shower in their God’s son’s name. That shower is to wash us clean from our ways. To wash the respect that we have earned from our gods off our skin so that we can be viewed pure enough to bow down to their God in humble servitude. It is to wash away all we are no matter if magic is in our eyes or not.”
“Then why does the new King stand in my Hall?”
“Because I grew up here, Trygve. This is my home. What fool would not seek help from his neighbor when he learns of injustice that can harm his neighbor, too? Should I leave you ignorant of what threatens you just because I have come to power? Should I not care for all of this village?”
Earl Trygve glanced at Malte’s corpse.
“The first time he came to me with poisonous thoughts about you was when Windin proudly paraded her protruding belly through this village. A woman he had praised to be a goddess like none other. And he even spoke ill of you as you sat on your father’s shoulders before you could walk.” The Earl looked saddened by the memory. “I thought him too great a fool to listen to, yet his hatred seeped in under my skin because I didn’t think to refuse his ramblings. I never knew until now.” The Earl stood. “But kneeling to a King that is not born solely from Midgard…it has never been our custom to kneel to even our gods.”
“Do not kneel, Earl. My people do not kneel to me to show themselves inferior to me. They kneel to make sure I see them.” Elakdon turned to Father. “Thank you, Father.”
Harrodon rose, looking proud. Bo sat back on the bench, grinning.
“Do not kneel, Earl, but look out upon the people you can see from your throne as it serves the same purpose. To rise you up so that you may see all those who depend upon you. All those you are responsible for. It is that power we have, and it is that reason I come to stand before you today. We are both responsible for a people whose ways are threatened. We are responsible for a people occupying the same land. What do we do about that?”
Earl Trygve thought for a moment, looking out at the crowd, maybe seeing something he never had before. Maybe recognizing his own power in a new way. It certainly looked like he looked upon a new view. One of splendor, yet he looked a bit overwhelmed. But Father had said the man loved power, so showing him his power could maybe earn Elakdon some goodwill.
“We have been divided for many years,” he said, sounding aggrieved by the fact.
“Then you and I change that, together,” Elakdon said.
“Why?”
“We were never meant to be divided. Had Malte not poisoned this, then my rise would have been revealed quite differently to you. It would have been a celebration to not just my people but to yours as we live together…divided…” Elakdon shook his head. “I hear tales of times long ago. I grew up with stories of great feasts and times when we lived side by side, not on different sides of fields. I grew up yearning for times when all Cubs, children…we would have played together.”
“I remember times like that,” the Earl said, sending a hateful glare toward Malte.
“Earl Trygve, your name alone calls for me to want to trust you. A man named Reliable is a man whose word equals his honor. In Cubi, Elakdon means Son of Honor. Although a language apart, then we are men of the same branch. We are the ones our people look up to now. We are the ones with the power to reunite us now that you have slain Strife.
“Whatever differences that have split us in the past, let us be the ones with the courage and foresight to reunite us now. Let us take our people to new days of glory and unity. Let us show our powers to be more than what has tried to hold us back.” Elakdon stepped closer and held out his hand. “Let our names be remembered for unity, strength, and prosperity, and let the gods look upon us now and admire us for laughing in the face of pettiness as it clings to the edge by its fingernails. Let us rebuild together, let us raise the glory days I, a mere second ago, saw as a good memory flash in your eyes. Let us be that.”
Earl Trygve stared into Elakdon’s eyes, and everything in Elakdon bubbled as he felt hope not only grow but burn inside of him.
Trygve grabbed Elakdon’s and pulled him onto the platform, determination burning in his eyes. “You will never be my King, but you will, Vor be my witness, be my ally!”
“Then come feast with me, new friend, let us dream tonight as we honor the gods, and tomorrow we set about making those dreams on behalf of our people a reality.”
Trygve squeezed harder around Elakdon’s lower arm. He then turned to look at the humans assembled. “Well. We feast!” He raised his arms over his head, and the crowd roared. A few did not, and Elakdon glanced at his Royal Guards. It didn’t surprise him that their gazes were already set upon those who did not see the end of Ting as a matter to be celebrated.
“Please, sit.” Trygve motioned for Elakdon to take the high seat next to his own.
They both sat, and Elakdon waited while he watched a man battle both feelings, reason, and expectations. He waited patiently for the Earl to find his words and glanced at Father.
He looked…flabbergasted. He finally dashed onto the platform. “Nol. I shall ride ahead and prepare for our guests. I shall see to it that your party to honor your new ally will be one worthy of remembrance.”
“Thank you, Father.”
Father dipped his head. He then looked at the Earl, a hint of animosity covered behind a smile. “Earl Trygve, I will see you soon and share a skål.” He then hurried from the Hall.
“I once heard a tale about the old King,” Trygve said. “That he died defending his people.”
Elakdon had heard that, too. Finally cornered, he’d thrown boulders at the attacking forces.
“He laid down over a hundred men before they got to him,” Trygve continued.
“All tales I heard said one hundred and thirty-two warriors, so our sources agree.”
Trygve nodded, impressed. “Are you that strong a King?”
“I’m young, but I will be. No matter my physical strength, I will fight.”
Trygve looked pleased by that. “And the many…they are merely guests to honor your…coronation?”
“My rise, yes. There are more than Malte said, yet we hid because of the distrust between our Houses.”
“How many.”
“Thousands protect our village now. Yours and mine.”
Trygve nodded slowly, apparently having to take in the numbers. Yet, Elakdon couldn’t believe that his conception had been what brought a man like Malte to spread lies to harm the Cubi people because his ego had been hurt by a once-off feeding with Elakdon’s mom. He had to ask her for the details.
Trygve pulled a gold ring off his finger and held it out to Elakdon. “My promise to you.”
Elakdon pulled a gold ring off his own finger and handed it to the Earl. “My promise to you, friend.”
They took the offered rings and found a finger it fit
, thus marking themselves allies, the swapping of promise rings being seen by the gods. They would hold them to their promise. Bo had called Trygve gullible, not a turncoat. Gullible was better than a traitor.
“Do you think we can keep them out?” Trygve asked. “The men of the cloth?”
“Here, yes, but I need to secure my entire Kingdom.”
“How big is that, exactly?”
“Jutland, south of Jutland, Norway, Sweden, Finland, part of the Suomi. Just to mention the areas I know of. It’s huge.”
“It’s more than three countries?”
“Yes. And with my rise, it will slowly grow.”
Trygve looked shocked.
“I do mean it when I say I want humans and the sons and daughters of Loke and Lofn to live in equal prosperity, you know,” Elakdon said. “We must unite somehow. Feel unity again.”
“Have you given thoughts as to how?”
“I have. We will build a great hall between our dwellings now, and it will be our hall. We will blót together, celebrate together, have our children grow up together, work together. Our strength is often needed, I know that from High Mother’s place. They worked differently with humans there than we have here, yet I’m sorry to say that strife also had come to them. I fear that is the case in more and more places as the memory of what my predecessor managed has faded. He was known for bringing about peace and coexistence.”
“He was, yes.” Trygve looked at Elakdon. “And your name will be, too.”
“Our names will be. I will not feel robbed sharing that feat with a human. It is our area, and Ladby will be where a new friendship will be founded.”
“You give so generously. I can only wonder when the demands come.”
“A gift, as Odin says, is worthy of a gift in return. What you will generously give is what I will be happy to receive from my new friend.”
Trygve snorted, shaking his head. “You are quite different from your High Father.”
“I was born to be.”
“I just hope you don’t carry too many traits of the god that gave your kind to Midgard.”
Elakdon chuckled. “No, in that aspect they made us too much like humans so that we can live with you and strive for the respect of the same gods. We, too, blót for the same reasons as you.”
“Nol-Elakdon?”
Elakdon looked up to find Dendon at the foot of the platform. “Yes?”
“How would you like the return to the Hall to proceed?”
“It is an hour walk, so I suggest…” Elakdon looked at Trygve. “Do you have mead?”
“I do.”
“Then let us give all a cup to enjoy as we begin our journey to a new and brighter future together. I will have ready whatever a heart may desire for the rest of the party, however long we shall see it fit to continue.”
Trygve smiled. He then waved a thrall over, a pretty boy with freckles. Hunger stirred, yet it confused Elakdon since he never got hungry around humans.
“Dendon, why does a human cause hunger in me?” Elakdon asked in Cubi.
“Which one?” Dendon asked, looking around.
Elakdon pointed out the thrall going about his business finding the mead as ordered by Trygve.
“Do you like him?” Trygve asked. “You may have him for the night.”
“He is not human,” Dendon said. “A King can sense his own kind, yet he is too young.”
“He holds the magic of Loke and Lofn?” Trygve exclaimed.
“You may choose any thrall in my House as his replacement,” Elakdon said, his gaze never leaving the boy at the age of no more than fifteen.
“I have many thralls,” Trygve said. “But he will not be a thrall in your House, will he?”
“Until magic shines in his eyes, he must be what he is, but he will serve only me,” Elakdon said, his cock rising. He licked his lips, imagining what the boy would one day taste like.
“My Prince, may I offer to feed you?”
“Hmm?” Elakdon looked up, finding Dendon smiling at him.
Trygve chuckled. “Take the boy. He is my gift to the…rise, as you call it.”
“Thank you, friend.” Elakdon reached to shake Trygve’s hand, and the Earl spat in his before offering it. Elakdon did the same. He then stood and pulled the Earl to his feet. “Let us depart with all we can find to celebrate.”
“Do tell me more about the hall you have in mind as we go.” Trygve turned to face the humans who had increased in numbers during the Ting. “We shall feast in the Halls of—” He looked at Elakdon. “Not High Father Harrodon, I take it.”
“In the Hall of Nol-Elakdon!” Elakdon said.
Trygve smiled. “And let it be one to be envied by the gods themselves for we are with friends!”
On the ride back, Elakdon had his dad, Bo, on the back of his horse while his wife Randi sat on the back of Dendon’s horse.
“Are you pleased with the outcome of Ting, my son?” Bo asked.
“I am. I had feared the Earl would be hostile.”
“Oh, let me educate you on the Earl. He is, unfortunately, sometimes easily swayed, and many here will hold it against him that he so easily calls you friend when he has cursed High Father and the sons and daughters for many years.”
“You make him sound like a turncoat.”
“Oh, that is by far a too harsh word to use. But keep him close and keep him feeling important. Men with power are usually afraid of losing it.”
“Thank you for your insight, Dad, I appreciate it.”
“Oh, I do have an agenda. My son is a Prince, after all.”
Elakdon turned his head to look at his dad’s proud face.
“Imagine that. A mere Karl like myself, the father of a King, given to us by the gods.”
Elakdon’s chest swelled from the love and pride he sensed in his dad.
Chapter Seventeen
The Hall was lively when they returned. Even outside in the cold, late November air, people were dancing and singing.
Windin ran to meet them, laughing and holding out a horn of mead. “Gorm-in, Randi! Oh, I’m so happy you arrive early. Please, share with me!” She handed Randi the horn and hugged Bo as soon as her hands were free. He laughed and hugged her back.
Elakdon felt fortunate, petting his horse absentmindedly as he watched friends have fun. Then someone took his horse, and he looked around.
“Sorry,” the thrall said. “May I tend to the horse?”
“Yes.” Elakdon let the young man drag off the horse.
“Here, my son.” Windin held out the horn.
Elakdon received it, feeling calm after a day where his emotions had been a jumble of fear, anxiety, hope, dread…
But it didn’t matter at that moment. He had his mom, his dad, and Randi, three people he knew loved him. He closed his eyes and thanked the Vætter for providing everything to make the night come full circle. He then poured a bit of the mead onto the ground for them before he drank himself.
Trygve came their way with the freckled boy.
“My friend,” Elakdon said, offering him the horn.
Trygve accepted and drank from it, then passed it back to Elakdon. “Thank you, King Nol-Elakdon. And he is for you as well.” Trygve looked at the boy. “You now belong to a King.”
“Yes, Earl.” The young man looked at Elakdon a bit nervously. Bo had said the Earl had grumbled about the Cubi people. What Elakdon had paid attention to, when Trygve and Father had argued at the beginning of Ting, then the young thrall just gifted to Elakdon had definitely heard about the Cubi people being sexual creatures. It was probably not a first the thrall had seen sex with a thrall girl, yet Elakdon needed to know if the boy had been given to guests of the Earl’s house for amusement. But he didn’t want to ask in front of the others.
“Stay close to me for now.” The hunger raced over his skin again, and he twitched, making the fabric of his clothes scratch his skin.
“Ela, go feed,” Windin said. “I will stay here with your young t
hrall.”
“He is Untouchable. He is mine.”
She snapped to, then looked at the boy. “Yes, Nol.” She dipped her head and pulled the boy closer. “While my son feeds, you will stay close to me.”
“Always obey me, High Father, and the Queen Mother,” Elakdon said.
“Yes, Master.”
“I shall go feed. Please, come, enjoy yourself in these halls.” Elakdon showed Trygve inside and to the head of the table where Father was directing a battle it seemed to get their party ready. As always, he made it look easy.
A more welcoming smile spread on Father’s face at the sight of the Earl. “Welcome. Sit with me, please. I have a special mead for us.” Father held out a big horn. He held it up. “May strife have inserted his last wedge and may each skål we shout in unison remove those he managed.” Father held the horn high, then drank from it and offered it to Trygve.
“I shall kick them where I find them with you at my side,” Trygve said, took the horn and held it high. “May the gods strengthen our bonds of friendship.” He then drank deeply from the horn, and Father’s smile grew as his toast was received well.
Elakdon felt it safe to leave them then and looked around for Styrk as he was in the mood for a body he knew well, but he was with Nil-Savadin and under a powerful dose.
Who was he supposed to hump then?
Elakdon looked around, finding a room full of new faces. His gaze then ended on Madin, the blue-eye who’d received sour energy from a man devoted to the new God.
“Father?” Elakdon grabbed him, his hunger not registering that he was interrupting.
“Yes, Nol?”
“Is my dose strong enough to empower a blue-eye?”
Father smiled. “Whom are your hungry eyes set on?”
“Madin.” Elakdon pointed.
“Give her a few if one isn’t enough, but I’m sure she will very much appreciate your attention on her first official night as your people.”
Elakdon smiled. “Thank you, Father.” He quickly made his way to where she was being chatted up by a human from town. If he could dose her, then he’d be strong enough for Foldon soon. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” Elakdon then changed to the Cubi language. “May I take you to my bed and Empower you to my Kingdom?”
History of Beauty Page 17
