by Fabio
Would they not become even more mesmerized by tales of Futuregard—just as his wife always was? Viktor had always felt leery of telling his men where he had truly come from, fearing that his superstitious; primitive warriors might conclude he was demented or perceive him as a threat. But now that he better understood the Viking society and legends, he was beginning to see things in a different light. Considering how eagerly Reyna had accepted his stories, wouldn't his men, all of whom were even more firmly rooted in the pagan, mythical tradition, embrace his tales all the more readily? Could he not use his knowledge of the future to create parables that would teach his men how to live more peaceably?
Yes, it was possible, and there he must thank his bride for bringing him this valuable insight. In love lay all the answers.
Reyna sat in the stable, in the stall that had been allocated for Viktor's three wolves, Thor, Geri, and Hati. The canines were crouched around her, their heads resting on their fore-paws, their light blue eyes moist with melancholy as she petted them.
"My husband has banned you from his house until you learn some manners," she lectured the three. "I agree that you may not eat Freya, her pups, or her mate."
The wolves listened morosely.
"Still, my heart feels sorrow for you all. 'Twas your place in the household first, before I came, and then Freya. How greatly insulted you must feel, as well as jealous. And verily, I know what 'tis like to be a renegade and warlike. Only Viktor, my husband, is most stubborn. He wants peace for us all, and I fear he will not relent until all of us are tamed."
The wolves lifted their ears and began to sniff as, from the pocket of her garment, Reyna took out several scraps of mutton. She grinned as tails wagged and sharp-toothed mouths opened eagerly. She tossed a scrap to each wolf while chiding gently, 'Try to think more kindly of Freya and her pups."
Watching the animals devour the tidbits, Reyna smiled. Tomorrow she would return with the scent of the pups on her and let the wolves sniff her hands. Doubtless they would become confused and snarl aplenty, but when they calmed, she would feed them more treats and rub the scent on them. Then one day soon she would bring in one of the pups and gradually train the wolves to accept it. For she was determined that the animals be returned to the household ...
Reyna's musings scattered as the stall gate creaked open, and the thrall she recognized as Nevin glowered down at her. "What are you doing here, girl?"
Next to Reyna, the wolves growled menacingly. Insulted, she shot to her feet. "Heed my words well, thrall. I am not 'girl,' but your jarl's queen. I will be treated with respect."
"With respect?" the man scoffed. "As you treated your own clan when you turned traitor?"
"I never swore fealty to Wolfgard's clan/' Reyna retorted. "I was a captive, like you."
"Yea, a captive who has exalted her position through her treachery."
Reyna was on the verge of losing her temper. "How dare you insult me, thrall, and disturb my peace! What is it you want?"
Nevin jerked a gnarled thumb toward the wolves. "I want those mangy creatures out of my stable."
Reyna's reply was laced with steel. " 'Tis not your stable, thrall, 'tis my husband's. And his wolves are welcome to stay here. See that you treat them with kindness."
"Bah!" Waving her away, the man trudged off, slamming the gate to the stall.
Frowning, Reyna sat back down and soothed the wolves, who had grown more tense during the thrall's intrusion. What a bad-tempered fellow he was, she mused. No doubt he resented her exalted position; originally, both of them had come to the North Country as lowly slaves.
She had encountered Nevin here once before, when she had come to the stable to steal a horse before she had run away. As she had dashed inside, the thrall had blistered her with a look of contempt, but had not attempted to stop her. Reyna had been throwing open the gate to a stall, about to grab a pony, when Nevin's assistant had jumped out at her, threatening her with a pitchfork. Reyna could have disarmed and brought down the lad, but it went against her grain to hurt or possibly slay one so young. Instead, she had raced out of the stable and gone on to the fjord on foot. Then Viktor had captured her ...
Mayhap it had all been for the best, though it galled her that her husband had succeeded in turning her so soft. For here she was, trying to tame his wolves and bring peace to his household. His goals were becoming her goals—even to having the child she now found herself longing for as much as he did. Viktor had seduced her to his own purposes with his pretty blue eyes and his mesmerizing stones of Futuregard.
Ah, she was hopeless! More frightening still, she was clearly falling in love.
"Men, I would speak to you of an important journey I recently took."
A week later, Viktor made his planned move and met with his kinsmen in the council chamber. Svein, Ottar, Canute, Rollo, and Orm sat with him, sipping mead, their expressions jovial.
Over the past days, Viktor had considered at length what he would say tonight, and had conjured up the stories he would spin. He had decided he would tell his men of both the good and the evil of the future world, of the weapons that could destroy all of mankind, and of the lessons that had been learned from wars of the future.
"You are speaking of your sojourn in Valhalla jar}?" Svein asked amiably.
"Yes—but I made an important side journey." Viktor drew a deep breath, then confessed, "I lived another life."
For at least ten seconds there was only stunned silence in the room as all five of Viktor's kinsmen stared at him.
A clearly puzzled Canute spoke up first. "But how can a man live more than once, jarl?"
"Don't Vikings believe that brave warriors live at least two lives—one here in Midgard and a second in Valhalla?" Viktor countered.
"Yea, this is so,” answered Orm, while the others nodded.
"So I am saying that after I reached Valhalla, I embarked on a third life before returning to you."
Silence again reigned as the men scowled at one another.
"But there was no time, jarl," argued Rollo. "How could you have lived thrice? We launched you to Valhalla after sunset, and you returned to us ere midnight."
"Yea, you had not time," agreed Canute.
"Time as we know it does not exist where I have been," Viktor replied solemnly.
Several mouths dropped open. "But how can this be?" asked Orm.
"I don't claim to understand it all—I only know I lived again before I returned to you,'
There was another perplexed pause; then Ottar urged, "Tell us of your other life, jarl."
Viktor drew a deep breath. "I went to a place called Futuregard. It is a tenth world."
Utterings of astonishment flitted down the table. "You mean there are ten worlds instead of nine?" asked a mystified Orm.
"Yes."
"Where is this Futuregard?" asked Svein.
Viktor braced himself, then continued. "Right here on earth—but a thousand years beyond us in time."
A collective gasp was followed by comments of amazement.
"You are saying you traveled across the centuries, jarl?" asked Ottar in an awed whisper.
"Yes—and almost to the year 2000."
"The year 2000!" exclaimed Ottar.
"Yes."
"'Twas there you found this Futuregard?" asked Canute.
"Yes."
The warriors again consulted among one another in hushed, excited voices. Then, as heads nodded, Rollo commanded, "Tell us of this tenth world."
"It is a true world of the future, a place so advanced it almost defies our imagination," Viktor explained. "There are incredible machines in Futuregard, devices that do everything from digging ditches to flying to the moon."
"How is that possible?" cried Canute. "A machine cannot do the work of a man!"
"But that is not entirely true," Viktor countered. "Even here on Vanaheim, have you not plows and carts to do your sowing and carrying?"
Several heads bobbed in agreement.
"I
'm telling you, then, that the process of creating and perfecting such devices continued into the future. Beginning with a time known as the Industrial Revolution, machines became much more advanced and complex. Giant power looms produced huge bolts of cloth in a fraction of the time it takes your women to weave a simple swatch, and giant iron horses, called locomotives, began to carry people and provisions across vast continents."
Viktor's speech was met by utterings of excitement and astonishment. "Tell us more of these marvels!" demanded Orm
Viktor elaborated on the fantastical machines of Futuregard, at first offering simpler examples such as steam engines and farm machinery, then moving on to more advanced devices such as ships, planes, and cars, and even touching on the amazing twentieth-century phones and computers that could send information shooting through the air. He told the men of "living" stories composed of pictures that moved across- a vast screen, and of magical potions and pills that could rescue a life on the brink of death-All the while the men listened, clearly astounded and entranced, their expressions rapt. Occasionally, they interrupted to ask a question or two. Viktor felt immensely grateful that his instincts about telling the stories had been correct: like Reyna, his warriors readily accepted his strange tales; in many ways the men seemed as guileless and teachable as children. Viktor also realized that it was not critical that they embrace literally his every word, as long as they adopted the overall lessons he intended to teach.
The warriors were sitting on the edges of their seats when Viktor abruptly changed the tack of his lecture. Ominously, he stated, "There are also machines to make war in Futuregard—guns, rockets, and bombs."
"Can we produce these machines here and use them to destroy Wolfgard?" Canute asked eagerly.
"No," came Viktor's firm reply. Ignoring his men's crestfallen expressions, he explained. "For you see, in the future, mankind almost destroyed itself with these weapons. And that is the reason I lived my other life, to bring back an important lesson to you: that in war lies destruction, and in peace, the future of all mankind."
At first, the men seemed skeptical of Viktor's message, so he elaborated on his theme with lengthy parables of Futuregard: he told of two warring gangs in a city that laid down their arms and became guardians of their neighborhood; he told of two battling nations that, on the verge of destroying each other, made peace and created a greater prosperity for all; he told of two brothers divided against each other in a terrible war, of how they laid down their arms on the battlefield and brought their countries back together.
"It is only man's misguided instinct for war that can rob our race of this wonderful future to come," Viktor said in summation.
"You are saying we can no longer wage war?" asked Svein.
"What will you have us do when Wolfgard attacks?" demanded a horrified Canute. "Shall we lay down our arms like lambs and let him slay us all?"
"Nay," Viktor answered. "We will defend ourselves and our families, if need be. What I am saying is that we must change our thinking—to begin to fight with our minds instead of with our guts. I'm saying we can outwit Wolfgard, outmaneuver him."
These words were met by brooding silence.
"Well, men? Will you at least consider what I've said?" Viktor asked.
"Yea, jarl, we will ponder the matter," answered Rollo for the group. Abruptly he grinned. "But first, tell us more stories."
At his men's insistence, Viktor talked well into the night.
In the bedchamber, Reyna sat by the fire petting the male fox, whom she had christened Freki. Through Reyna's continued patience—and her capturing lemmings and rats for both adult foxes to eat—she had gradually won the trust of the nervous fellow. Next to Freki, Freya dozed as the little brown pups nursed hungrily.
The sight of the mother and pups filled Reyna with poignant emotion and made her acknowledge consciously what she had been sensing for days—that she already carried Viktor's child. Her woman's time was late, and during the past several days she had felt her body subtly changing, her breasts enlarging and becoming tender, her appetite increasing, her need for sleep intensifying. Come next spring, she would bear her husband a child, and if his vision proved true, 'twould be a son.
Wonder filled Reyna at the possibility of having a child who might well enjoy the happy childhood she had been denied. Yet her sense of awe was mingled with fear—fear that Viktor was still determined to make use of her and the child to achieve his own purposes. For this reason, she had not yet shared with him the joyous news.
She frowned, wondering where he was now. He had told her he would be late coming to their chamber, since he needed to meet with his kinsmen tonight. But the six of them had been at council for so long. What matter were they discussing that would keep her husband away this late?
She questioned Sibeal regarding this when the thrall brought her supper. "Know you what my husband and his kinsmen are doing in the council chamber so late?"
Sibeal shrugged. "I know not, milady. No females have been allowed to intrude for the hours they have been in the dining hall."
"You are saying Rollo and Canute have not even fondled the serving wenches?" Reyna asked in amazement.
Sibeal chuckled. "Nay, they have not." She gestured toward Reyna's tray. "Will you eat now, milady?"
Reyna nodded, but her thoughts were distracted, focused on the husband who had been absent too long.
THIRTY-TWO
DURING THE NEXT WEEK, VlKTOR CONTINUED TO WEAVE HIS FABLES of Futuregard to his warriors as the ranks in the council chamber swelled. Word had gotten around to the other men of the fascinating tales the jarl spun every night, and more and more warriors appeared for the assembly, until there was only standing room left in the chamber.
Viktor was hard pressed to keep inventing parables—and to make certain each tale held its moral lesson of peace. He began weaving bits of fantasy in with reality. He told of the mariner who sailed under the sea in his great whale-shaped ship, and how he taught the giant sea monsters to live together in harmony. He told of the spaceman who flew to the moon in his bird machine, and how he found little green people at war with one another and taught them all to coexist in peace.
In preparation for the day when slavery would be abolished on Vanaheim, Viktor told more realistic tales of slavery in Futuregard, outlining how the cruel institution that had abused millions and broken up families was eventually obliterated from the earth.
Viktor knew he was making true progress the night the guards hauled in two strange warriors. The men cowered as they were dragged over to stand before Viktor.
"Who are these two?" Viktor demanded.
'They are spies from Wolfgard's village," announced a guard. "We caught them listening at the portal."
Viktor stared sternly at the trembling men. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"
"We come to hear the stories!" cried one.
"Yea, we will swear fealty to your tribe if we can only hear the stories!" added the other.
Abruptly the room erupted in laughter as every man, save for the bemused captives, rocked with mirth. "Jarl, you have tamed even the enemy with your stories!" Rollo called out.
Viktor grinned, feeling elated by this small victory, this proof that even Wolfgard's company could be won over by words instead of weapons. He allowed the prisoners to remain, and turned their appearance into a new parable of intellect triumphing over man's base desire for warfare. Before the night was over, the two newcomers swore fealty to Viktor's tribe and swilled mead with his own warriors.
The next night, Viktor followed up on this success by ordering the three other captives brought down from the shieling cottage to hear the stories. Only Dirk listened unmoved; the other two swore fealty to Viktor's tribe by evening's end.
Usually by the time Viktor went to bed each night, Reyna was asleep, and he would rouse her early the next morning to make love to her. She would curl her arms and legs around him, still drowsy but moaning with pleasure. When she questioned his ni
ghtly absences, he would say no more than that he was teaching his men to be more peaceable.
On the eighth night of Viktor's sessions in the dining hall, Reyna's patience snapped. Viktor was inventing a parable of two Futuregard knights who solved their differences in a chess tournament rather than in a dueling match, when suddenly one of the sentries pulled Reyna into the room. Viktor paused in mid-sentence as he spotted his wife, her features tight with pride and anger, her eyes shooting murderous sparks at him.
"Jarl! I caught your wife listening at the portal!" the guard announced.
Before Viktor could comment, Canute surged to his feet. "Women are never allowed to attend council!"
"Yea!" growled several other angry warriors.
"Get the female out of here!" roared Orm.
"Reyna, what are you doing here?" Viktor asked.
She raised a fist at him. "You are telling them of Futuregard!"
Viktor stared from his fuming wife to his shocked warriors, then back to his wife. "We will discuss this later," he told her firmly.
"Craven!" she retorted.
Viktor spoke low, through gritted teeth. "Reyna, please, we will not settle this in front of my men."
Even as the guard tried to drag Reyna out of the room, she wrenched herself free of his grip, hurled Viktor a defiant glance, tossed her head, and left.
Viktor concluded the storytelling session as quickly as possible, knowing there would be the devil to pay when he went to his chamber. He was right. Half an hour later, when he stepped inside, Reyna charged up angrily.
"Whoreson!"
Viktor was stunned. "Reyna, what is wrong? Why are you greeting me with such hostility? What have I done?
She punched his chest with two fingers. "You told your warriors of Futuregard, did you not?"
"Yes," he admitted, still perplexed.
"Traitor!" she ranted.
Staring at her, Viktor was mystified to spot tears in her eyes. "Why am I a traitor?"
