Chapter 1 #2
We turn the corner and enter the green gardens, where I see Loki.
He’s sitting cross-legged on the grass, peering into the heavens with his eyes closed tight.
Birds circle high above him. He uses his finger to trace something in the air.
I do not know what he does, but I’m certain he speaks to the universe, for the universe talks back.
I remember the Vikings telling me that those who can see the future and interpret the wishes of the gods are called seers.
Is this what my son is?
The only person I can ask, however, has his own people and kingdom to protect. But what of his family? What about us?
I cannot be angry with him, for am I not doing the same thing?
“Mother, your heart is heavy,” says Loki, eyes still closed. “You mustn’t be burdened. The gods—”
“Loki!” I softly warn, rushing over to him. “You cannot speak of the gods.”
Dropping onto the grass, I gently cup his cheek. “My love, please, do not say things you do not understand.”
I trust my ladies-in-waiting with my life, but the palace walls have ears. If anyone were to uncover that my son is more Northman than Saxon, there would be war.
“I understand them, Mother.” Loki finally opens his eyes, blue eyes that are of his father…of the man whose name lingers on my lips with every single breath I take.
And that name is…Skarth the Godless.
My boys know that their father is a great warrior, but I’ve not told them much more.
Skarth saw his sons when they were younger, but it’s been years since he last visited. I know it hurts us more having him reappear when he can, so he has decided just to vanish, only for me to live with his memory, haunting my dreams.
But both remember him, and both know who they are. However, I do wonder which path they’ll take.
Saxon.
Or Viking.
“What is that you understand then, son?”
Loki mirrors me and places his small hand on my cheek. “He will return. But it will not be a happy reunion. He leaves us over and over again, until one day, he will never return. His heart is heavy, but he does this to save you.”
Tears instantly spring to life, but I need to be strong for my kin. “I have everything I want right here.”
Sune nestles into my side as I embrace him warmly. Loki, however, doesn’t wish for cuddles. Although younger, he is far older than Sune. His soul is older.
I worry for my, for our son.
“Did Prince Ludwig send sausages again?” Loki knows I received a gift from the prince because he “saw” it.
In the universe, mayhap?
If anyone knew of this, we would all be found guilty of heresy. No good Christian would ever believe there is more than one God. To even think it…I do not wish to even dwell on the outcome.
“Could you smell it?” I ask, tickling under his chin because the last time the prince sent sausages, the palace smelled of rotten meat for a week.
He swats my hand away but cannot contain his laughter.
Beneath his special abilities, he’s still just a little boy.
“His desperation stinks rotten. What a dārae.”
My mouth gapes open because my son just spoke to me in Norse. “How do you know that word?”
Loki arches his head to peer into the skies once more. I follow his actions and see three black ravens circling above us. “They told me.”
There is nothing but happiness in his tone.
Sune appears confused, but he doesn’t ridicule his brother for being different.
“Come, Sune, let us pick some herbs for dinner,” says Lady Bianca, one of my ladies-in-waiting.
She senses my panic, as I always knew this day would come. I just thought I’d have more time.
Sune rises quickly as he adores being doted on by my ladies, but not before kissing my cheek. “I love you, Mother.”
“And I you, my son.”
I watch as Lady Bianca scoops him up into her arms and leads him toward the herb garden.
When we’re alone, I brush the long hair from Loki’s face, the hair that he refuses to wear short. I know why that is when I think of Skarth’s hair, which he wore long and plaited—the hair of a true Viking warrior.
Before I have a chance to speak, Loki smiles. “Forgive yourself, Mother. Sune will understand why you did what you did. If he does not, then I will protect you.”
“Loki, what do you see?” I ask, unable to keep the terror from my tone.
“I see him in another woman’s belly, but you gave him life. You were covered in his blood because it was your face he first saw.”
I place a trembling hand to my mouth because I quickly realize my son’s life is at risk if anyone were to find out about his gift.
“Why do you punish me, Lord?” I whisper under my breath, shaking my head. “Have I not sacrificed enough?”
Loki frowns, and I instantly regret my words. “Loki, I did not mean it.”
But it’s too late.
He stands angrily, not wishing to hear my apologies.
“You are not a punishment. You are my life. I love you with all my heart.”
He doesn’t allow me to explain and runs from the gardens, wounded by my choice of words.
Groaning, I massage my temples because I feel a headache looming.
“My Queen, forgive me for interrupting.”
“You never interrupt me, Lord Louis.”
Louis is more than a guard; he is my friend. He is one of the only people in this kingdom whom I can trust.
“We have visitors,” he informs me with a frown. “Spotted by our watches. Three miles from the palace. They carry the flag of East Frankia.”
And just like that, my headache turns into a migraine.
“Is it Prince Ludwig?”
“I do not think so. Has he sent his council to try to persuade you to accept his hand in marriage, perchance?”
“I think you may be right.”
“On your call, I can prepare the archers.”
I bite back a smile. “That will not be necessary…for now.”
Coming to a stand, I take one last look at the three circling ravens overhead and hope this is not an omen of things to come.
* * *
“Prince Ludwig once killed a bear with his bare hands,” says Lord Gunter, clearly not acquainted with dinner etiquette as he chews his meal with an open mouth.
I barely avoid the projectiles of meat hurtling my way and hope my suitor has better table manners than his adviser.
The fact that Prince Ludwig sent his adviser to Northumbria worries me because this demonstrates his persistence on the matter of becoming my husband. I wonder what extremes he will go to, to ensure I agree.
“That is tremendously impressive, considering the prince is small in stature.”
Lord Gunter inhales his food and dislodges it by thumping on his chest twice. Shame that, as this night could have come to an end with his death.
“I can assure you, Queen Emeline, that the prince is anything but small.” His slanted grin, which is dripping in innuendo, has me curling my lip in disgust. “This alliance benefits both kingdoms.”
I am unable to keep my discord at bay. “Northumbria is prosperous. There is no longer interference between the other kingdoms. King Raedwulf rules Wessex as it should be governed. His marriage to Princess Eloise of Frankia strengthens ties for England.”
“King Beornwulf rules Mercia as he was destined to. Do you forget, Lord, that I am still the queen of Mercia, but King Beornwulf is not the king of Northumbria, as I do not need a king to rule?”
“No one has forgotten your…unorthodox decision, Queen Emeline.”
My spine straightens because, beneath his smile, I can smell his offense that I have changed England. Most can see the future is bright, but men like Lord Gunter and Ealdorman Rufus despise me for changing the outdated laws.
We must move forward, something which I learned from the Northmen who adapted to this foreign land to better their lives.
They are a nation to learn from because they continue to grow strong.
There is peace between us because of Daneland—the area I set aside for the Northmen who wished to stay in England. We coexist happily for the most part.
I know this is because the Northmen respect me and also know the father of my sons.
Skarth is respected amongst his people, and tales of his bravery have no doubt spread far beyond England. We both have sacrificed so much for our people—just as every virtuous leader should. I have faced many battles and much retaliation for changing England, but I have won and overcome each war.
“Prince Ludwig only wishes to rule beside you, not change your ways.”
“Do you think I am a fool, Lord Gunter?”
His mouth parts in horror as does Ealdorman Rufus’s, who is listening to every word.
“My ways may not be conventional, but they’ve not failed me. I have sacrificed everything for Northumbria, and I will not allow a man to control me. Now or ever.
“I know I have tested men just like you with my progressive thinking. But England is better for it. We are the strongest we have ever been as we are now united. We work together, not against, and that is why we are undefeated.
“So this alliance with East Frankia will not materialize. I am sorry that you came all this way for nothing. But I must decline Prince Ludwig’s offer. You may lodge here for the evening, but come morning, I expect you and your men to be gone.
“Hale be thou, Lord Gunter. Go thy way.”
I stand, leaving the men with their gaping mouths as they clearly were not expecting this response. But Lord Gunter should be thankful he is leaving Northumbria with his head.
My ladies-in-waiting follow as the court bows for their queen. But I cannot appreciate their servitude as I am livid.
“Huglausi bacraut,” I curse in Norse under my breath. It’s out before I can stop myself.
“My Queen!” gasps Lady Bella. “Please do not anger yourself this way.”
I know she means don’t lash out and allow my court to hear me speak in a language which would have me hanged for heresy—queen or not. It’s one thing to accept Daneland, but another to bring Daneland within these palace walls.
“I will ask for God’s forgiveness in prayer. Leave me.”
My three ladies look amongst themselves, unsure what to do. I shouldn’t be left alone in this state because trouble looms. But I need the silence to regroup.