I took a step back down. The sword flashed and then glowed a steady blue. The light looked like it ran through the steel like rivulets. In the light, I saw a faint line. It formed a rectangle on the stone. I stepped back as far as the stairway would allow.
“It’s a door,” I said.
I began to feel for a handle and was joined by more hands that felt along the stone. They traced the outline but could find nothing. I looked to the sword again, and prayed what I was about to do was not stupid.
I wedged the glowing blue sword into the gap of the wall. I expected to have to pry, but it cut through the stone like butter. I cut up the length of the line, then across, and back down on the other side and then along the stone floor. The frame of the door glowed through with the same blue light, and then it faded.
The stone faded, too. It became a mere wooden door, with a turn-handle. It opened at the brush of my fingers. The room on the other side took my breath away.
The stone of the floor rushed toward the end of the room and gave way to open sky. There were three walls, a stone ceiling so high it would have been impossible for any man to have carved it away. Lining the room were cages, and they were full of starving, haggard wolves. When they saw me, they let out a great howl. It seemed to shake the stone.
A figure in the center of the room turned to me. He was tall, maybe three heads taller than any man should have been, and thin as a skeleton. His eyes were black all through and sunk deep in a face that was white and lipless. He was crowned with a skull; the top cut off and turned upside down. Its teeth were sharp, and from the interior, iron spikes rose up. The lifeless eyes of his crown mimicked his.
He turned to face me, pulling his long black robe around him. That was when I saw him. Ulfvaldr was chained to the ground by his neck. His hands were outstretched. Iron spikes pinned them to the ground in pools of blood.
My head clouded with rage.
“How dare you,” I screamed out, advancing on the tall figure, “Release him.”
He let out a low laugh. His voice was like a wail heard from far away.
“Do not interrupt my play.”
“I will end your play,” I said from between clenched teeth.
I lifted my sword and his black eyes widened. His yellow teeth showed in a grin.
“The last wolf for my collection. I have plenty of wolf-men, and I just fetched myself a wolf king, and now, I have the last piece, the Silver Wolf King. Go on, show me your prowess,” he said that last word with such lechery it made me think I would be sick.
I looked again to Ulfvaldr. It was a mistake. The man, if you could call him that, raised his hand.
I flew backward into my men.
“Kill him!” shouted Thannen.
They tried to run forward and were thrown back. I heard the crack of skulls on stone and moans.
“Fight me like a warrior, sorcerer,” I got to my feet.
“Mmm…” He hummed and drew a long white sword from his robes. It looked like sharpened bone.
He was fast. Too fast. His sword slashed me across the chest. I hurled myself backward to avoid the next blow. I rolled and dodged and could not get a swing in. I felt my sword grow hot in my hand. I leapt away from the sorcerer. His sword rang out a note like a bell when it hit the stone. The stone cracked.
“Help me, sword,” I whispered.
Its handle burned me.
“Aaaugh!” I screamed and tried to throw it away.
It stuck to my hand. The sorcerer was walking toward me, taking his time. He raised his sword. I jumped toward Ulfvaldr and fell.
“What?”
My legs twisted and my back arched. I could see Ulfvaldr’s golden eyes, shining. I was so close. I reached toward the spikes. I pulled one from his hand. He screamed. His cries mingled with mine. My body twisted. I watched him pull the other iron spike from his hand.
And then he was a wolf, chained still. He stood above me and bared his teeth. The sorcerer approached.
Ulfvaldr leapt at his throat. The sorcerer knocked him aside. Ulfvaldr hit the ground. An animal whine escaped him and he was still.
“Ulfvaldr!” I cried. It became a howl.
I looked down at my hands and screamed. The sword melded with my skin, twisting and turning into me. My arms sprouted silver fur. My nails lengthened into claws. They were the color of the sword’s steel, layered like it, and glistening with blue. My back arched. My spine felt like it broke in a thousand places. I was on all fours and before I knew it, my teeth were bared and a fierce growl brewed in my belly.
The sorcerer raised his sword of bone, but now I was the faster. I leapt at him. It was a lethal dance. He slashed at me. The sword brought red blood to my coat. I lashed out at him with my claws and they tore at his flesh. His skin tore away like rotten meat and black oozed from the wounds.
His attacks became frayed. He hacked at me. I dodged, and my eyes flitted faster than I thought possible from opening to opening until I saw it. In a split second his throat would be exposed. I leapt.
His meat was fouler than anything that had ever met my tongue. I tore out his windpipe. His black blood was thick and tasted of death. I backed away. His eyes still looked at me, life somehow still in them.
How perfect. I jumped in surprise. His voice rang through my head. How perfect to die at the hands of the most beautiful creature. If only for a moment, my collection was complete.
The voice left. His eyes glazed over, and all tension dropped from his limbs. I ran to Ulfvaldr and put my muzzle to his face. He breathed still. I exhaled, and my body twisted. I felt the cold, then, on my naked flesh. I still held the sword. I looked to it and it no longer glowed blue. My people were helping each other to get up. The wolves turned back to men and ran to the cages. In the cages, there were men now, no longer wolves. I touched my sword to Ulfvaldr’s bonds and they fell away. He became a man again and rolled onto his back to look at me.
“Your brethren,” I said.
He nodded. The room started to shake.
“We have to go. Unlock them!” He shouted to his wolves.
They tore into the cages, battering at them. One wolf opened the sorcerer’s robes. He pulled out a string of keys and screamed and dropped them. They turned red then white, and melted onto the stone.
I looked at my sword. I went up to a cage where a man, so starved his ribs stuck out several inches from his body, stood. I touched the lock with the blade of my sword and it fell away. A block of stone crashed from the ceiling. A fisherwoman screamed as Finli pulled her out of the way.
“Go!” I ordered.
“My king…” Thannen said.
“Go. That’s an order.”
They bowed and ran from the room. I moved from cage to cage, opening them as fast as I could. Ulfvaldr followed me.
“Take the freed wolves and go,” I shouted over the clamor of crashing rock.
He shook his head.
“I’m not leaving you again.”
I had to crawl to the last cage. The man had transformed into a wolf, the better to run. Ulfvaldr was behind me, still human. Rock fell and pelted us with a hail of small stones.
I unlocked his cage and we ran. Ulfvaldr stayed right next to me.
“Turn into a wolf. Run ahead,” I panted.
We took the steps two at a time, flying down. It would be better if I fell, I thought. I would get to the bottom faster. Part of the steps fell away and we leapt over it. The wolf, who was well ahead of us by now turned back to look. Ulfvaldr waved him on.
The tower was falling away behind us. Light streamed in through cracks and holes in the stone. We ran, our throats clogged with dust and our hearts racing.
I took Ulfvaldr’s hand.
He squeezed mine.
The last of the stone steps toward the land fell away in front of us. The rock we were standing on shook and peeled away. I looked into Ulfvaldr’s eyes, then straight ahead. We jumped.
The air swirled through my hair. My legs kicked through op
en space. I still had my sword in hand. I raised it.
There was the blue light. And we were on sand, rolling. I reached the water and lay on the ground. Its cold waves lapped at my skin. Ulfvaldr’s hand reached back for mine and clasped it. I smiled and let time pass, if only for a moment.
Chapter 8
Varghoss
I awoke to the sun streaming in. I sat up with a start. The child, now named Hafporir, in honor of Thor, had woken me crying for milk every night for the half-moon we’d been back from the island. Much time had been spent in slow, wintry recovery.
I crawled to the end of the bed, where the cradle was, to find it empty.
“He’s with the nurse.”
I rubbed my eyes with surprise. Ulfvaldr was not in bed, but off to the side, kneeling on the floor.
“What is it, Ulfvaldr?”
He looked away. His cheeks were pink. I had never seen him blush like that.
“Do you remember when I said you were my love?”
He was still kneeling.
“Ulfvaldr, what are you doing?”
Panic rose in my throat. I looked about the room. He pulled a golden ring out from behind his back. He had his sword balanced on his lap. He placed the ring on the blade and held it up toward me. He bowed his head.
“I once said I needed you to kneel,” he said, “but when you had our son, I found that, I wished I could kneel for you. Will you have me, for life and in the hereafter? Will you wed our kingdoms together, and knit our peoples as one?”
I could feel I was a mess. My hair was disheveled, my eyes filled with sleep, and here was this man, or wolf, pledging his life to me.
“Ulfvaldr, I love you.”
It was the only thing that I could muster. He cracked a smile, but kept his head down.
“So...you accept?”
“Yes! I will wed you.”
He looked up, then. His golden eyes were sparkling. He took the ring from the tip of his sword and slid it onto my finger. The sword found its way safely to the ground, and Ulfvaldr was on top of me.
“The nurse is keeping little Hafporir until we come for him,” he said, nibbling on my ear.
His hand slid under my back. His lips caressed their way down to my neck. The fire crackled in the hearth, the babe was safe, we lay in a bed in my father’s chambers, now mine, and I had my lover’s ring on my finger. I sighed into his embrace and let my body rise to every touch.
His teeth, then his lips met my nipple. He sucked. I gasped. He had not done that since I’d been nursing. I could feel him smile as my milk leaked into his mouth. When he drank it down, it aroused me in ways I had never felt before.
I threw back my head and moaned. He sucked all the harder. I grabbed the back of his head and cried his name. His hands clasped around my wrists. He pulled them away from his head and slid onto me. He kissed me, and groaned into my mouth.
Ulfvaldr pushed his hips against mine.
He was hard, and judging by the way his breath hitched, drinking my milk had urged him on as much as it had me. I tried to reach up but he kept me pinned back. I let myself relax under him. His weight pushed me down into furs. My lust throbbed in my veins, as pent up and uncontrollable as the first night he took me, as it was when I was bedded by my first man.
He was panting and grinding into me, and so when he pulled away from me, I was surprised.
“We must be wed, first, I think,” he smiled and released my wrists.
I shook my head to clear away the fog of desire.
“Ulfvaldr, you cannot be serious.”
He only shrugged, “and I forbid you to take care of yourself,” he says trailing a hand down my chest, “I will be the only one to make you moan on our wedding day.”
“Our wedding day…”
“Is today not as good as any other day? I have arranged it all. That old witch you like so much is presiding. Your people are looking forward to a feast, and so are my wolves. I think they will want to see the little prince, as well.”
I dropped back onto the bed and looked at the firelight mingling with sunlight on the ceiling. It was a moment before the pulsing desire in my groin subsided into a dull ache.
“Our wedding is tonight?” I asked again.
Ulfvaldr sat next to me and stroked my hair.
“Yes.”
I sat bolt upright, “Then get you from this place! I need a gift for you, and to have my hair cut, and the infant will need a ceremonial robe.”
“The infant?”
“Something bright, yes, and a little crown.”
Ulfvaldr laughed, “I may have seen you change into a wolf, but on the inside you might be the silliest of humans. No one will be able to make him a little crown in time for our feast tonight.”
I looked away, “No, we just need to find my old one.”
His eyes bugged out, “It’s a good thing you weren’t too spoiled as a prince cub,” he laughed, “you only had one tiny golden crown, I’m sure.”
“Shush, Ulfvaldr,” I finally felt like I’d regained enough control to sit up.
The milk inside me, pressing at my chest muscles told me that I needed to nurse the babe.
“There is much to do. What time is the ceremony?” I asked him.
“Sundown,” he grinned, and then added, still leaning back on his forearms on the bed, a roguish grin plastered on his handsome face, “That ring looks good on you.”
I felt my face go red. I threw on my clothes and left.
“Need to get him a ring, too,” I muttered and rushed down the hall to find the nurse.
~
No fewer than six women were combing and braiding my hair and beard, washing me, and rubbing me down in herbal oils. I’d had the sides of my head shaved in a knotted pattern, and kept the center hair long. The women shaved the beard from my neck and trimmed it into a most pleasant shape. They cleaned my ears and nails and filed them into neat order. Another servant woman brushed the last bits of lint from my father’s old ceremonial cape. A boy from the armory polished my father’s old armor.
I let my eyes fall on a small table where a simple gold band lay. It was no ordinary band. It had been one of my mother’s, one that she wore on her thumb. After testing it on my hand for fit, I had it inscribed.
The runes flickered in the firelight from here. I closed my eyes and hoped that Ulfvaldr would understand what it meant to me.
A gurgle caught my attention. Her chair scraped along the floor as the nurse got up and walked Hafporir over to me.
“He looks like he wants to nurse,” she said.
I took my child and held his tiny, warm body to my breast. The nurse had washed the soft down on his head. His tiny polished crown, tied under his chin with a ribbon, was tilted. I pulled it off and let him suckle while my hair was finished.
The babe’s head rolled to the side. I marveled that he did not need burping. I fumbled with the tiny crown in my fingers until the nurse came back over, her skirts sweeping, and tied it back on with prim, precise movements.
“Here,” I handed the child back to her and got up.
The woman who had been brushing my clothes brought them over. She pulled up my arms and, as if in a dance, brought the clothes around my body. The long, white fur cloak hung over my right shoulder. It was brilliant and shone like crystal. I buckled my sword on over my gleaming armor and turned to face the servants.
“Well, how do I look?”
Most blushed. One, the girl who had been brushing my clothes and who had arms that rippled with the muscle of hard work threw back her head and said, “Good enough to eat!”
The roomful of women tittered. I put my hand to my mouth. I had never felt this way before, never felt so giddy. I almost twirled in my cloak, and stopped myself with a cough.
“I am going to take the little prince to his cradle in the throne room,” said the nurse, “someone will get you when it’s time.”
The servants bowed and left me alone. The room almost spun. It was too much. I l
onged to see Ulfvaldr, but he had sent word that I was not to see him until the ceremony.
I went to the window and unlatched it. The shutters flew outward. The wind howled strong down from the mountains. It swept snow up and over the white fields in swirls. “We must not be far off,” I said to myself upon seeing the line of villagers entering the castle gates. They pitched tents and stoked fires in the castle yard. The castle was not large enough to hold all, so most of the villagers had to set up tents outside.
I looked back at the room Ulfvaldr and I now shared with our son. It was larger than my old chambers, and while Fundinn had held it for a time, like my kingdom, it had once belonged to my father...and mother. I knelt on the stone that was cooling in the winter air.
“Father, mother, bless this wedding day. I did not know you well, but I can still feel you all around me, in these walls, in my sword, in the crown I bear and the kingdom beneath my feet. I know you never wanted our kingdoms to split, and today I rejoin them and make my son, your grandson, heir to both. I beseech you for your blessing.”
I bowed my head. I felt like I heard the softest of answers.
There was a knock at the door.
“Enter.”
Thannen opened the door. Finli was at his side. They were dressed in fine formal armor, their hair braided and beards combed, “It’s time, your majesty,” Finli said.
In the corridor that lead to the throne room, the sound of drumming echoed off the walls. Scents of musk and wood smoke swam through the air. The hum of conversation rose up over the drumbeats, until Finli and Thannen opened the doors.
Then, all was silent. I took a step forward and the drummers ignited in a frenzy of beats. Men of the wolf tribe stood in front of them, tilted back their heads and let out an eerie and beautiful song from their throats. Its words were ancient, and I did not know them. It filled me with wonder that grew from deep in my chest. I lifted my eyes, up to the dais at the end of the hall. Upon it sat two thrones of warm wood, so different from Fundinn’s.
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