The Branded Rose Prophecy

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Renmar staggered backwards two steps. Lucas’ sword was pulled out by the movement, and Renmar grasped at the wound and dropped to the ground.

  Immediately, Asher’s people swarmed forward to surround the Alfar on the other side of the room. Swords and guns hemmed them in, holding them at bay.

  The room became still once more.

  Asher looked at the Myrakar. “Put down your weapons,” he told them in Alfar. “You do not need to die today.”

  The Lajos among them were weaponless, but one of them, whose sense of self-preservation was stronger than his leadership instincts, lowered himself to his knees and bent forward, placing his face on the ground. The remainder of the Alfar followed, silently and meekly.

  Darwin looked at Asher with a sideways grin. “Victory is yours, king of kings.”

  Charlee hurled herself into his arms, making Asher stagger a little. He didn’t mind at all. He dropped his sword and picked her up, and with a deep breath of anticipation, he kissed her.

  She was warm and pliant and soft in his arms, and Asher touched his forehead to hers, profoundly simple happiness blooming in his chest.

  It was then he realized that everyone was cheering and clapping around them. He looked around, feeling oddly bemused.

  Ylva raised her brow at him, her arms propped up by the long knives resting pointed down in her hands. But there was a silly smile on her face.

  Darwin was grinning hugely, and so was Lucas.

  Asher held out his arm toward Lucas, who took it with the warriors’ grip.

  Charlee looked into Asher’s eyes. “I have something to show you,” she whispered. “Once the world lets you be for a moment.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  It took weeks before the world was ready to leave Asher and Charlee alone for a few hours of private time. Ylva, Darwin, Koslov, and many others who had helped with the overthrow of the Alfar found themselves equally in demand, for media interviews, debriefings, conferences, summits, and endless numbers of formal inquiries.

  The Alfar had fled Midgard, but the bivrost was still open, the nine worlds free to mix and mingle as they dared. Humans needed to learn and come to terms with their new reality now the war was over and they had time to heal and grow. The Kine would be the facilitators of the education humans faced, and all of them faced intense scrutiny, at every moment of their days.

  But eventually, the intensity of the interest faded and Asher was finally free to deal with Kine business, away from the harsh glare of lights and microphones.

  At the first opportunity, Charlee delivered her promise. She opened a portal and invited Asher, Ylva, Darwin, and Lucas to step through. Verlan Seeker had invited himself along once he heard where they were going. After consulting with Asher, Charlee had agreed to him tagging along.

  They stepped through the portal Charlee made, into the front hall and looked around at the soaring walls and glistening floor. “This isn’t the same as I remember,” Ylva said. “It feels the same, but it isn’t the same place.”

  “Yet it is the same place, anyway,” Asher said, looking upward.

  “It only looks different,” Verlan said, his hands on his hips. “And it is in a different place now, but it is Valhalla.”

  Charlee gave them no more time but led them through the dazzling doorway, to the main hall.

  The table was still sitting in the middle of the hall, but this time, there were six cups sitting next to the pitcher. Charlee filled four of the cups, then handed the pitcher to Ylva, who poured the remaining two.

  Charlee handed Lucas and Verlan a cup each and Ylva gave Darwin another. Then Charlee held a cup out toward Asher, both hands around the stem. “Welcome to Valhalla, my Annarr.”

  Asher drew in a deep breath. Slowly, with a bow, he took the cup. “My thanks, Regin.”

  Charlee had been reaching for her own cup, but her hand stilled. “No,” she said quickly.

  “Yes,” Ylva said firmly. “You are going to argue with the prophecy? With the Vanir? With Verlan?”

  Verlan bowed his head. “You are supposed to lead. With Asher.”

  “Who opened the portal?” Lucas asked. “Who found the way back to Valhalla? It wasn’t a simple Amica, Charlee.”

  Darwin took a deep swallow of his mead. “The Vanir were right all along. You are the ones to lead, you and Asher. You already are. Everyone looks to you for answers, for direction. You have been guiding the Einherjar and the Valkyrie—purely by example, if not actively giving directions. The world is watching you, taking its cues from what you do. You have to lead.”

  “Only by acclaim,” Asher insisted. “Only if the Kine agree.”

  “No.” Verlan shook his head. “Your place is preordained, Asher. The Kine must adapt to this new reality, just as humans must.”

  Ylva put down her cup. “Odin is not here,” and she glanced at the big chair above the platform, “but this is Valhalla. You stand in his hall, Charlee. Would you gainsay the gift Valhalla has bestowed upon you?”

  Charlee swallowed. “But...I’m just...Charlee.” She reached for Asher’s hand and he took it, a rare public demonstration. When they were in public he was usually stiff and formal—a most proper Einherjar.

  “Yes, but you are Valkyrie now,” Ylva insisted. “Asher, demonstrate, please. Draw your sword.”

  He frowned and reached for his pocket.

  “Not like that,” Darwin said. “The way Lucas does it—thrusting with his hand.”

  Asher’s brows lifted and he glanced at Lucas.

  “I can’t explain it,” Lucas said. “I just do it and it’s there.”

  Asher put down his cup, then turned so that the space in front of him was clear. He stepped forward and thrust...and the sword was there. He looked down at it, at the runes running the length of the blade, and the iron and silver of the hilt. It was a huge sword, made for a man of his height and strength.

  “I have never seen this sword before,” Asher said, “but I know without question that it is mine.” He stood up and raised the sword, studying it carefully. Then it disappeared. “Just as I intended,” Asher added. He looked at Charlee. “You try.”

  “The Valkyrie are not warriors,” Charlee pointed out.

  “In their own way, yes they are,” Darwin replied.

  “You died in battle,” Lucas pointed out. “Try it.”

  Feeling self-conscious, Charlee copied Asher’s movements. She thrust forward with her foot and curled her hand around a hilt that was not there, pushing it forward like she intended to skewer an enemy.

  The hilt filled her curled fingers, and the sword glittered under the light from the roof overhead. It was an odd color, not at all like Asher’s silvered steel and iron blade. Charlee lifted it up in both hands, just like Asher had, examining the very fine writing on the spine of the blade. It was a language she didn’t know. Not yet.

  “The metal...it’s strange,” Asher murmured, stepping closer to examine it.

  “It’s red,” Darwin declared, tilting his head to study it. “Red for the red-headed rose. Very appropriate.”

  Charlee moved the sword about. The metal really was red and very beautiful. It wasn’t too heavy, and it was perfectly balanced.

  “Do you doubt anymore, Charlee?” Verlan asked quietly. “Do you think Valhalla would bestow such a symbol upon a mere Amica, or a mere human, or even just-Charlee?”

  Charlee shook her head. “No,” she said, her voice trembling. “I suppose the prophecies know what they’re talking about. I’ll just have to catch up with them.” She let the sword vanish.

  Asher pulled her against him, his arm around her. He kissed her temple. “We both will,” he said gently.

  “The whole world is going to have to catch up,” Darwin said, and his voice had taken on its professor tone.

  “Uh-oh, lecture on the way,” Lucas said with a grin.

  Darwin rolled his eyes. “Prophecies just deal with the end of things. The results. After that, everyone has to clean up the m
ess and figure out how to go on now life has changed directions on them. That’s where you and Asher come in.”

  “I must be missing something,” Charlee said. “For the first time in a long time, Darwin, I don’t know what you mean.”

  Ylva smiled. “He’s been talking about this for weeks. I think he forgot to explain the steps in between.”

  Darwin put down his cup and pressed his hands together. The professor was in full spout. “Charlee has spent her life choosing her own path, or thought she did. Because of Asher, she learned about the Kine at an early age. So did Lucas, indirectly, and a bit later. Charlee immersed herself in the Kine world, even though it was a secret world then. She lived and breathed the Herleifr life. And because the Kine maintained laun so strictly, Charlee’s education was unique. No one learned as much as she did, not even the Amica who are trained to the life.”

  “The Amica learn from infancy that they are human and will always be so, despite the Kine world they were born into. Charlee doesn’t have that bias,” Verlan said. His voice had taken on the same flat, lecturing quality as Darwin’s. “Both Charlee and Lucas have believed without a shred of doubt that Valhalla is real, that the Kine are real. Humans who know about the Kine, who believe in self-determination, who believe absolutely in Valhalla...that hasn’t happened since the Kine descended to Midgard.”

  “The prophecy accounted for that,” Darwin added. “It needed Asher to reveal himself to a human and break laun. The Vanir knew Asher’s rebellious ways would make Sindri feel even more isolated and unloved and coax him to open the bivrost, opening Midgard up to the nine worlds once more.”

  “It also took in account,” Verlan said, “that Charlee’s influence on Eira would make Eira pause long enough to let Sindri live, once he had revealed his betrayal to her. And through Eira’s mercy, the prophecy tightened its hold.”

  “Who is telling this story, anyway?” Darwin complained.

  Verlan frowned. “You seek to dispute one of the Valdar?” he asked, his voice cold.

  Darwin considered him. “You’re my first wizard,” he said. “Is the big ol’ stick up your butt common to all of you?”

  Lucas snorted and raised his cup to drink and hide his expression.

  Ylva squeezed Darwin’s wrist in warning.

  “Let it go, Seeker,” Asher said, his voice soft. “Remember, we are all learning, here.”

  Verlan bowed his head in Asher’s direction. “Annarr,” he acknowledged.

  Darwin lifted his cup toward Charlee. “You are the only one who could find the way back to Valhalla. You might think you weren’t born to it, but your entire life has been leading to it.”

  Charlee sighed. “All I wanted was a picket fence.”

  Asher’s fingers tightened around hers.

  * * * * *

  After the Alfar occupation of the Second Hall, none of the Herleifr were comfortable with the idea of it becoming the seat of Kine power once more. So Charlee worked with Verlan Seeker to build permanent portals to key locations around the world, and the new Valhalla, which was also increasingly called the First Hall, became once more the home and headquarters for the Kine.

  She also worked with engineers and builders to adapt the hall for human and Kine occupation, as the mystical designers had overlooked some practical necessities. After the war, she and Asher had moved into a suite in a hotel on Long Island, but after three months, they moved the extensive operations and personnel that had coalesced around them to Valhalla.

  Charlee showed Asher the quarters she designed and had built. They were large and airy, and there were many rooms—with the public rooms at the front end of the suite and their private rooms deeper within.

  “All these formal meeting rooms...” Asher began, sounding doubtful.

  “There will be lots of meetings,” Charlee told him. “We can’t use the big halls for small occasions, or they will lose their majesty.”

  He kissed her. “I will trust you in this.” He looked around. “There is something missing though.”

  “What?” she asked, wondering what she had overlooked.

  “I’ll have to think about it,” Asher decided. He glanced at the digital clock on the desk. “I have a meeting. In one of those public rooms, I suppose.” He kissed her and left.

  Asher’s days swiftly filled with many meetings and commitments. The public rooms at the front of their quarters were well used.

  One of those meetings was with Ylva, who went through formal channels to set up an official appointment. She and Darwin arrived together, Ylva wearing a business-like and very elegant skirt suit, and Darwin in a new and modern suit of his own. He smoothed down his tie uneasily as Asher asked them to sit.

  “Are you nervous, Darwin?” Charlee asked as she and Asher sat on the sofa opposite the pair.

  “Like a cat in a room full of rockers,” Darwin said. “Although you can probably guess why we’re here.” He reached out and picked up Ylva’s hand.

  Ylva wore a small, warm smile.

  Charlee looked from one to the other, delight filling her. “I had no idea,” she breathed. “But this is wonderful!”

  Ylva looked at Asher. “You’re my earl and my Annarr,” she said. “I didn’t ask for permission last time, but to not ask this time would set the wrong precedent. So I seek your approval to marry Darwin Baxter, a human with no allegiance to any hall.”

  Asher studied Darwin. “Would you be willing to swear your allegiance to the Kine and to me, Darwin?”

  Ylva caught her breath, but Charlee just smiled.

  “He can’t,” Ylva protested. “Darwin isn’t Kine.”

  “Ways change,” Asher said evenly. “The Kine must change with them. There’s no reason why a human cannot serve a hall, just as the Kine do.”

  “I’m no warrior,” Darwin pointed out. “And I’m too old to start being one.”

  Asher nodded. “But you can serve in many other ways. You studied the Herleifr for years. Your knowledge will be useful. And you can teach others, too.” He looked at him sharply. “Do you believe you are too old for that?”

  “Hell, no,” Darwin said.

  “Then welcome to my hall, Darwin Baxter. I heartily approve your coming nuptials and if I don’t get an invitation to the wedding, I’ll crash it, along with every media camera following me.”

  Ylva paled. “You’ll get an invitation,” she assured him.

  Another meeting was one that Charlee had arranged with Verlan Seeker some weeks before, sending him out on a mission that only he could complete. He stood waiting in the room when she and Asher entered, a slender woman standing next to him. She looked like she was in her late fifties. She had long hair pinned neatly at the back of her head in an old-fashioned bun and plain clothes. From beneath her well-tailored pants a steel brace peeped.

  There was a terrible scar upon her right cheek that radiated out across her face in angry red weals that drew the gaze and did much to hide the fact that the woman had the loveliest eyes—wide, grey and almost limpid, with thick lashes.

  “My work is completed to order, as you can see,” Verlan said dryly. “I found her in a place called Lakelands—a hot, fetid swampland I have no wish to return to.”

  “Thank the spirits for that,” the woman told him and looked at Asher. “Your forgiveness, Annarr, but I was under the mistaken impression that wizards would be interesting company.”

  Asher managed to hold himself to a mere smile although Charlee could feel the tremors from silent laughter rippling through him from where her thigh touched his.

  She studied the woman. It’s you, she thought/whispered.

  The woman gazed at Charlee. “I have known you nearly all my life,” she said. “I never thought I would meet you, though.”

  “We have much to thank you for,” Charlee said. “Most especially for what you did to help bring down the shield around the New York tower.”

  The woman blushed and the scar reddened even more. “I wanted to,” she said. “It was l
ittle enough.”

  “Then there is more you can do?” Charlee asked.

  The woman looked startled. “I...er....”

  “She has appreciable abilities, for a human,” Verlan said dryly.

  “I’m not...people don’t think of me as...well, talented,” the woman said. “I got used to being alone at an early age, you see.”

  “Clearly,” Verlan said.

  She looked at him. “I’m an introvert because lightning hit me when I was twelve. What’s your excuse?”

  Charlee struggled to hide her smile, then settled for not laughing aloud. Verlan Seeker’s expression was so comically surprised. “Perhaps, if you don’t mind,” she told the woman, “we can start with your name.”

  The woman’s eyes widened. “Well, yes. My name is Unnur. Yours, of course, is Charlotte Rose. Everyone knows who you are.”

  Charlee hid her sigh. The long form of her name and both names hitched together had become the most common form of reference to her in the media, especially once the Nine Worlds Prophecy had been explained to the world at large. “We have something in common, Unnur,” she said.

  Unnur touched her scarred cheek.

  “That, too,” Charlee agreed. “But you will find that here, scars are honorable markings. I would like you to stay in the hall. You have skills I can use and that you can teach to others.”

  “Really?” Verlan asked, and rolled his eyes.

  “Verlan,” Asher said warningly.

  “He’s quite harmless,” Unnur told Asher seriously.

  Charlee dug her fingers into Asher’s knee, battling the need to bray her laughter out loud. When she thought she could speak once more, she cleared her throat and glanced at him, then back to Unnur. “Would you be willing to swear allegiance to this hall and its earl, the Annarr? To serve the Kine and in turn, help them to serve humans?”

  “Me?” Unnur whispered. Her eyes filled with tears, and she nodded.

  Verlan considered her, his expression thoughtful.

  As long as he stays far away from me! The thought slipped into Charlee’s mind, shaped and shaded exactly like Unnur. She would recognize the thought as hers even if Unnur were not standing in front of her.