Of necessity, he lied. “To prove her identity to the others before you win her. With her as your mate, you can become High King.”
“What if she fails the test tonight?”
“She will not. The wizard with her is powerful.”
“More powerful than you, Einar?”
“He is the right hand of Odin. None can defeat him.”
“Then she will be safe tonight. How do I win her?”
“By passing the test she will reveal tonight. She is a brave and smart woman. She will accept only the best man among us.”
“We must make certain that is me,” Rolf commanded.
“I will do all in my power to aid you, Lord Rolf. Be cunning with her. She is not a woman to respond to an easy conquest.”
“It is hard to resist her, Einar. Already my loins burn for her.”
“Douse your flames with your slave so they will not burn out of control,” the man suggested.
Rolf watched Einar depart, then called his Logris captive inside. “Lie with me. I have need of you,” he told the lovely woman.
Obediently she removed her garments and reclined on the bed. She knew it was futile to refuse her captor anything, and she was enthralled by him.
Rolf undressed and joined her. He closed his eyes and pretended she was Alysa and he was making tender and passionate love to her.
Just before midnight in Rolf’s dwelling, Trosdan and Alysa prepared for the ritual. He explained what would happen to her and gave her instructions. He rubbed her back with a special powder, then gave her the leather pouch to conceal in her lower garment.
“Are you sure this will work?” she inquired anxiously.
“Have no fear, my queen, it will fool them—even Einar.”
Trosdan put the fur cloak around her shoulders to hide their ruse and guided her to the door. He kissed her cheek and smiled into her worried face. Grasping her quivering hand, the Druid led her outside where they were joined by Rolf, Ulf, Einar, and the Vikings.
They walked to Stonehenge where Alysa reclined upon the Altar Stone. With Einar’s assistance, Trosdan placed a forked oak limb at her head and feet with the “Y” shape downward. He tossed a covering over her which was supported by the two points. Oak branches were piled around the altar and set ablaze.
As Trosdan chanted, Alysa worked swiftly beneath the tent to rub the wizard’s special powder over the remainder of her body. She felt the heat rising and she began to perspire, causing the powder to work its spell.
Time passed and the heat increased. Alysa wondered why the covering did not catch fire, but Trosdan had told her it would not, and she praised his alchemy skills. She felt moisture gather on her face and dampen her body. She could hardly breathe in the nearly suffocating tent, but she told herself she must endure this test.
When the flames died down, Alysa heard the clue in Trosdan’s words. She tossed the covering aside and stood upon the altar. With the aid of the “magical” powder, her body glowed as if she were ablaze from within. Alysa was thrilled to see the ruse working perfectly. Despite her faith in Trosdan, she had feared something terrible would go wrong. Her confidence was restored as she took in the crowd’s expressions of awe and intimidation. The full moon and firelight caused her wet flesh to glisten like sun upon snow. She felt a heady sense of power and pride rush through her body, as if she could accomplish anything. She felt magical, stimulated, enchanted. She turned slowly, allowing everyone in the ever-expanding circle to view her from all sides. She heard their reactions of amazement and pleasure, and was delighted by her victory. She watched them kneel before her.
The night breeze cooled her flesh and dried her perspiration, and gradually the powder lost its strength and brilliant glow. Trosdan retrieved the covering, concealing a pouch of combustible liquid within it, and tossed it into a nearby fire. A burst of flame ignited it and it burned slowly, proving there was nothing protective in the cloth.
Alysa stated in an authoritative tone, “I have proven myself to you, my people. You must accept me and our laws. It is time for your oaths of fealty upon the ring altar. After our ritual toasts, I will tell you of the great quest which has been revealed to me by Odin.”
The ceremonial stand was brought forward and placed before the altar. Upon it was an arm ring and a sacrificial bowl for a blood offering. In the bowl was the blood of a sheep which Trosdan had ordered slain. With an oak twig—as oak was the sacred tree to Druid and Viking alike—Alysa sprinkled each man’s chest as he stepped forward to swear his fealty to her and to Odin upon the arm-ring altar. When the lengthy hlaut was completed, the toasts were given.
The ceremonial horns were passed back and forth over a flame by Trosdan, who was in charge of this ritual, then passed around to each man several times. The toasts were given in order of importance: first to Odin for victory, to Njord and Frey for good harvest and peace, to Alysa as their queen, and to the dead who had entered Valhalla before this special moment.
At last, the two rituals were completed. “This is the ninth year,” Alysa began meaningfully. “It is time for our great feast. But first, we must pass Odin’s test, as I have passed yours tonight.”
A Viking warrior who had been observing these curious events from a distance joined the ecstatic group and asked, “What is this quest, my queen?”
Alysa turned toward the familiar voice and stared at the man coming forward. It was, but it was not, her lost love.
Eight
Alysa’s gaze slowly swept over the warrior who stood below her at the altar. He was so much like Gavin, yet he was different, noticeably different. His shoulder-length hair was trimmed shorter and a deeper blond. It displayed no flaxen streaks. His green eyes seemed darker and their gaze unfamiliar. A short beard and mustache covered his rugged jawline and above his upper lip, whereas, Prince Gavin Crisdean was always clean-shaven. No blue royal crest of Cumbria was tattooed over his heart. Only a bronzed chest was exposed beneath the snug leather jerkin. There was an old scar on his cheekbone; Gavin had none. His manner and aura were unknown to her, as were his changing expressions.
Yet his size and physique were the same as those of her missing husband. His voice nearly matched Gavin’s but for a slight intonation difference. There was no way she could explain these physical and mental variances. If this man was her husband, he did not know it. The look on his face revealed that she was a stranger to him. But if by chance this was her love, something—or someone—had altered him. There was nothing she could do except observe him, test him, and keep her head clear.
Alysa’s study of the Viking had been done swiftly. Having been prepared for this moment and having heard the voice, she seized control of her emotions and reactions before turning to face him. “Who are you? And why do you interrupt my words? You did not join the oath and toast. Do you challenge me as queen?” she inquired in a stern tone with a nearly scornful gaze.
He answered smoothly, “I am Eirik. I have only just returned from raiding. I saw everyone here and came to see what was afoot. My friends told me of your arrival and deeds. I will swear fealty to you and drink the sacred toast, my queen.”
“Trosdan,” she called to her friend, “see that … Eirik does as he vows. I want no trouble, for we have much to do.”
She waited patiently while Eirik and his band were sprinkled with the sheep’s blood, swore allegiance on the arm ring, and drank their ceremonial toasts. She watched the virile warrior closely as she pretended to merely be observing the new men as if to test their loyalty.
Trosdan and her dream had told her she would find a friend and helper in this camp, a Viking warrior who would reflect her lost love’s visage. But Trosdan had warned her this man was not Gavin, that he would be a dangerous temptation, perhaps a pitfall if she were not careful and alert. The powerful wizard had also warned her that Eirik would inflame her passions and she would desire him to become champion of the false quest; already those words were true. Yet she must “not forget who and what he is.” She
tried to ignore Eirik and her tumultuous feelings to carry out her ruse.
Alysa remained on the altar where she could be seen and heard better in the large gathering. “Every nine years my people hold a special nine-day feast. Soon it will be the day for it to begin. Before our human sacrifices are chosen and slain for the hlaut, we have a task before us. I have come to you, my people, to claim my destined mate so we can lead you to conquest over this isle. Odin has spoken to me in dreams, and to Trosdan through the sacred Runes and in the sacred chalice.”
It was alleged by the Vikings that Odin had created the Runes, so the men held great faith in them and in a reader of the magical stones. “We must cease all raids on villages and castles, in this and in other lands, until our quest is complete.” She noticed the reaction that command received and hurried on to explain her meaning. “There is no need for any of my warriors to die in simple raids or retaliatory battles when victory can be grasped under the leadership of an all-powerful and invincible champion, your High King, my husband.”
Ulf injected, “How will we live if we do not raid?”
Alysa looked at the man and replied calmly, “We will take only the goods we need for nourishment, and waste no precious time plundering any area. Next, we must release all slaves. They will slow us down and only give us more mouths to feed. We can take plenty of captives after our quest and feast, or before we sail for our homeland after we have conquered this isle. If we decide to remain here forever, it is foolish to slay our future subjects and to destroy property which will belong to us soon. We must spend our time and energy on our sacred quest. With slaves in the camp, men must be left here to guard them. Odin commands that all men participate in his quest. It is known that some brave men and women allow themselves to be captured to act as spies. If any slave escaped, he could warn his people of our plans and delay us with battles.”
Rolf asked, “What is this quest you have mentioned many times?”
Placing her hands on her hips, Alysa glanced over the alert faces. Fearing a loss of her self-control and concentration, she was careful not to look at Eirik. Trosdan had told her to relate the quest, as her beauty and newly established rank and manner of dress would inspire trust and admiration and would weaken any opposition. The wise man knew the warriors would be less likely to disagree with their queen.
As she spoke, she turned this way and that to address everyone, causing the dangling leather strips to sway and to reveal glimpses of her slim waist and shapely legs. The leather cups over her breasts exposed their generous size and firmness, her lower garment did the same for her hips. She was a stunning vision, and the men had trouble keeping their minds on her words. “We must have a contest in the battle ring to select three champions. Those warriors will choose three bands to aid them with their quest for five objects which Odin’s helpers concealed on this isle long ago when our great Seer knew such a moment would come. Odin has given clues of their locations to Trosdan. One at a time, he will pass the clues to the three leaders who must solve the riddles and find the objects. The man who holds the five prizes when the quest is complete will become my husband and your High King.”
Alysa held up her left hand. “This ancient ring from Odin will be used to empower the objects upon this altar. You have witnessed its power this very day. This quest is a test of strength, cunning, and bravery. Not only must the objects be found, they must be guarded during any following searches. A man must prove he is the best champion—the one warrior worthy to become my husband and your High King—by holding on to what he has obtained, as it is fair for the other two questors to try to take them from him by any means but death. It is his band’s duty to help him and to protect his prizes. I will travel with a champion during each of the quests, to be chosen from the winning stone in a basket. That way, each of you will know I offer no help to your rivals. Odin controls our destinies and will aid the man he desires to rule us and to wed me.”
Alysa motioned for silence and attention a moment longer before questions were asked or remarks were made. “When this task is done, we will gather here for the empowering ritual, my wedding ceremony, and the great feast. Afterward, under our invincible champion, we will leave here to conquer this entire isle. What say you?”
Rolf asked, “What are these five prizes, my queen?”
“An amulet of Odin to protect the warrior and to receive our god’s magical aid in battles. A sword from Thor to give the champion power and victory in battle, and justice amongst his people. A helmet from Frey to protect his head, ruler of his body and actions, and symbol of future peace. From Njord, a figurehead for our champion’s ship to bring him wealth and to guard him at sea; upon it is an eye for divine guidance. From Freyja, a shield to protect his heart. The prizes are ancient and valuable. One man must possess them all to make him indestructible. Once Odin sends his power from the heavens, through this ring, these weapons and possessions will make him and our people unconquerable. If no man possesses all objects after the quest, the man who holds the greater number must battle the other two in the ring for theirs.” Her voice lowered to a grave tone and the crowd strained to hear her. “I warn you now of Loki’s mischief. This quest must be done before more raids. Do not let him blind you to Odin’s commands. This ring holds no power to enchant the prizes unless it remains upon the hand of the Last Viking Queen. Odin has given me this honor to remove the stain upon my bloodline which Astrid and Rurik placed there. What of Hengist and Horsa? Are they with us?”
Ulf scoffed, “They refuse to join us. They have become lazy and content in their new lands. If they do not aid Vortigern against us, we will let them be.”
Eirik spoke up. “I came to join Hengist’s forces, but Ulf is right. They are sated for a time and seek no adventure and prizes. I left his castle and joined this band. I seek plunder, conquest, and excitement. A warrior cannot test his prowess sitting down at home. Nor does a worthy leader hire out to fight another’s battles.”
Einar questioned Alysa, “What did Odin say of Hengist’s help?”
“He was not in my dreams and visions. Let the people vote if they are to be approached about joining us. What say you? Will this quest and victory be ours alone, or do we invite the Jute brothers to join us?” Alysa was relieved when the vote was no.
Eirik did not know how Trosdan and Alysa had passed the test put to her, but he suspected it was a clever ruse. He knew that wizards could perform inexplicable magic and cunning delusions. He was impressed and intrigued, but he was also wary and doubtful of the Celtic princess’s sudden appearance. Yet he was consumed by desire for her and for the prizes she offered. The people believed her and accepted her as their queen. If he could win her and the quest, he would have all a man could desire. To seize her attention and interest, he ventured boldly, “You are the ruler of a land nearby. How do we know this quest is not a cunning trick to distract us from raids while your warriors prepare to attack us?”
Anger filled her blue eyes and they sparkled ominously. “My warriors would not invade King Vortigern’s land. Damnonians are a peaceful people who only practice defense, not conquest. They would not even attempt such a task if I am not there to lead them.”
“What if they come to rescue you from us?” Eirik added.
“They believe I am in Cambria visiting my grandfather, King Bardwyn. When the time comes, they will allow a peaceful takeover by us. They would never battle me or disobey me. Besides, my land is small and my knights are not skilled or experienced enough to challenge this force. Your questions speak of suspicion and reek of insult. Even if I deceived you, they could never risk an attack with me in your camp. Any warrior who wishes to continuing raiding can do so. As your queen, I will not command against it. But while he and his band are raiding, the others will be carrying out the quest. Unless he plans to win all prizes in the battle ring, he would be wise to join the quest.”
Alysa waved her right hand over the crowd. “I am a stranger to you. If you need time to trust me, then have me
guarded each day and night to allay your doubts. Though I have proven myself tonight, I would not be insulted by your caution. I have nothing to fear; Odin guides me and protects me. Is that not so, Thorkel?”
The man she had wounded in her trap nodded. “She speaks the truth.” He withdrew her dagger and held it out to her.
“When I opened your body with that blade, Odin opened your heart to the truth, for it bears his sign of the hanged man. It is a gift to you, Thorkel. One day soon it will save your life.”
Einar spoke up again, “What of your test as a Seer?”
“I told you at midday I would prove that claim tonight. While I slept this afternoon, Odin revealed a message to me. I will tell you what I envisioned, but you will not know I speak the truth until the contest is over. I shall tell you the names of the three champions.”
Everyone became still and silent as she looked around the crowd of over seven hundred fierce warriors. She closed her eyes and announced, “Ulf… Rolf… Eirik.” When she opened them, she glanced briefly at each man. “Prepare the rings tomorrow. We must begin our task at dusk. When only three champions remain, your bands will be selected and the clues given. If there is no more, I am weary. Dawn is nearly upon us, and this day has been long and hard.”
“My house is yours to use, my queen. I can stay with my friends. There is plenty of room for you and your companion. I have no servants or slaves. Do you wish me to find some for you?”
Alysa stared at Eirik. This action was unexpected. “I am not sure I can accept the kindness of a man who doubts me as you do.”
Eirik chuckled. In a devilish tone, he countered, “I do not doubt you, my queen. I only asked the questions which others feared to ask but wished answered. My fealty and life are yours. You and your companion have more need of a dwelling than I do. It is yours.”
Rolf was annoyed by the other warrior’s intrusion on his plans. “Our queen can use my dwelling. Then she will not have to move when I win her hand in marriage,” he stated confidently.
The Last Viking Queen Page 12
