Chapter 5 Queen Emeline
Five
Queen Emeline
After much arguing, Lord Louis finally agreed to ride back to Northumbria and do as asked.
He was to imprison my ealdormen and torture Lord Rufus until he confessed to where my sons are.
If he didn’t, then Lord Louis was under my order to persecute Lord Rufus’s family and make him watch until he broke.
My nephews, if still in the care of monks, were to be brought back to my palace and imprisoned in the dungeons—the place where my father once kept me. I know how this place can break even the strongest, but I cannot be virtuous any longer.
My entire counsel cannot be trusted, and although Northumbria needs me, my children need me more. I cannot find them behind my palace walls, which is why I’m not going back until they are safe in my arms.
I understand the choices I make leave Northumbria susceptible to attack. But I am a mother first and foremost, and for the first time in my life, I’m putting myself first.
This decision has been easier to make because Ulf rides with me.
Aedan has gone back to Ireland to gather the men who will fight for me. I need all the troops I can get because this war will be brutal and bloody.
My mind and body are both plagued by what comes. So many lives are to be lost in a war I never wanted. I ruled to put an end to war, but men cannot rest unless there is bloodshed.
Ulf and I ride to visit the Northmen settlements to warn them of what’s ahead and to find Skarth. Ulf has vowed he does not know. But no one does. It’s as if Skarth has just disappeared.
My thoughts wander to Sigrith, Skarth’s sister. She was one of the best warriors I ever had the honor of fighting alongside as well as against, and I wonder where she is. She and Ulf had deep feelings for one another, but both are too wild to be tied down.
We approach a small Viking settlement. I know this because of the runes carved into the wooden arch. Christians would cross themselves and beg for salvation for such blasphemy, but I am forever curious to learn more.
Ulf notices me looking at the foreign writings. “They are to offer protection to the people,” he explains, his Norse accent strong.
I nod, always the student when it comes to the ways of the Northmen.
“Do your children know who they are?” he asks as we ride into the village.
“Yes. I wish for them to know of their heritage and hope they embrace both sides.” I remain strong when speaking of them because my sons are strong. I know they are all right.
Ulf nods but doesn’t say a word.
I have lain with both him and Skarth, so I wonder if he questions who Loki’s father is. Truth be told, it could be either man. It’s hardly proper, but proper is something I shall never be.
My cheeks heat when I recall engaging in the intimate act with both men. I never felt more loved than I did when both my Vikings consumed me whole. Those thoughts are to be put on hold, however, when the Northmen emerge from their homes to examine the strangers who ride through their land.
Thankfully, Ulf knows them.
He is welcome.
I, however, am not.
Some Danes have accepted that we need to coexist to survive. Others are not so happy about it and only do so because they must. They would incite a coup if they had the numbers. We cohabit because we must.
“Ulf the Bloody,” says a beautiful woman with long blond hair. It is braided into two plaits, which is how most warrior women wear their hair. “You being here means trouble looms.”
There is no malice to her words, and the way she openly looks at him has me barely containing an eye roll.
When her eyes land on me, her admiration turns to indignation. “And that trouble is in the way of the Queen. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
Her words stink of irony, but I dismount my horse as I wish to be on ground level when we speak. “I will be frank as I will not insult you good people with pretenses. I need to find Skarth the Godless.”
Silence.
Ulf chuckles as he ties our horses to a post. “Skarth always had a way with people.”
I don’t understand it.
Is he feared?
Or is he hated?
I no longer know.
The woman spits once in disgust. “You waste your time here.”
“Please, Bodil,” Ulf says. “It will help rid us sooner if you comply.”
Bodil strolls toward Ulf with nothing but confidence in her gait. “You know that I do not obey.”
Ulf smirks when she runs her fingers down his chest. “That is not always true.”
This time, I do roll my eyes.
“You will stay here tonight,” she orders, “and in the morning, I will tell you what I know.”
We don’t have a choice in the matter. Even if the information is minimal, I will stay in the bowels of hell if it means finding Skarth.
The children peer at me with curiosity, not fear, so like the Dane culture. They will happily fight for what they believe in. They are not cowards, something I wish I could say about Saxon men.
Bodil escorts us to a small hut. “Ulf, you can stay with me. Queen, my lodgings are only big enough for two. You do not mind sleeping in the stables then?”
Ulf’s jaw clenches, and just as he opens his mouth, I nod. “I have slept in far worse. Thank you, Bodil. I appreciate your generosity.”
She appears saddened that I didn’t retaliate, but compared to what faces me, she is nothing but a woman who wants to assert her dominance. I respect her for that.
She yanks Ulf into her lodgings while a man gestures that I’m to follow him. Ulf is about to follow me, but I shake my head. We need to pick our battles, and if Bodil knows where Skarth is, then we need her on our side.
The stables are small, but I always feel most at home outdoors and amongst the animals. The man points at a small hay patch near four goats before leaving me alone. When he is gone, I exhale and bend at the waist, taking three deep breaths as I place my hands onto my knees.
“Where are you?” I whisper under my breath.
Skarth told me to peer into the heavens and follow the North Star if I were ever lost and needed to find him. But the star has been in hiding. I wonder if Skarth does not want to be found. The thought weighs heavily on me because I need him, and he is nowhere to be seen.
“Queen Emeline,” says a young woman, no older than twenty, as she enters the stables. Her hair is a fiery red. Her eyes are the most intense green I have ever seen.
I rise and meet her inquisitive stare. I too am curious because it is unusual for a Dane to address me this way. “What is your name?”
“I am Alruna. I heard you speak of Skarth.”
I nod.
She steps closer toward me, and it’s evident she doesn’t want anyone to hear. “I know where he is. Bodil will not help you. She despises all Christians and will only lead you astray.”
“Why would you help me, then?”
“Because Skarth saved me from slavery. I owe him my life. I suspect you are here because of dire circumstances?”
“Yes, you are right.”
She nods, understanding that for me to continue, I need to know I can trust her.
She turns around and lifts her mane of red hair, exposing the back of her neck. What I see has me covering my mouth in horror.
“Who did that to you?” I ask, looking at the crucifix seared into her flesh.
“The Christians,” she replies, quickly covering her brand, not wanting sympathy.
“They were the ones who held you as their slave?”
She nods, turning back around to face me.
I don’t want to insult her by saying sorry because she is brave, and those words do her no good. “They were men of Northumbria?”
“No, Wessex. Soldiers.”
No doubt this was under the command of Aethelbald because it’s something his father would do. I should know because I experienced his cruelty firsthand.
“Those wretched swine will pay dearly for what they’ve done. How many Danes are imprisoned?”
“Hundreds. Men, women, and children,” she reveals, sickening me. “They’re sold to the highest bidder to do what they please. Some are bought as houseslaves, while others are left in the hands of twisted men and women who wish to see if Danes bleed the same as Saxons.”
I want to be sick.
The crucifix brand is to dishonor the Danes and their gods because the Saxons do not believe in anything other than Christianity. The brand is just another way for the Saxons to assert their dominance over the Vikings.
This must stop.
“You confided in me, so I will do the same. I seek out Skarth because my sons, Sune and Loki, have been taken from their beds, and I do not know where they are. I need Skarth to help me find our sons.”
Alruna’s eyes widen. “It would be an honor to help you on your quest. I promised Skarth I would pay my dues even though he never wanted it, but I must do this for myself.”
I understand what she means. She doesn’t want to be indebted to anyone, regardless of whether Skarth sees it this way or not.
“He is in Wessex, then?” I ask because I know Skarth would never leave his people to suffer this way. He would be doing everything in his power to put an end to such atrocities.
“Yes.”
“Then we must leave this instant.”
I attempt to leave, but she grips my wrist. “We cannot leave here until nightfall. Bodil does not want to help as she does not agree with Skarth helping my people.”
“Why not? They are her kinfolks too.”
“She believes they are weak for being captured. Some have submitted to Christian ways and turned their back on the gods, accepting your God as theirs. She sees them as nothing but traitors. But she does not understand…the men, they are cruel.
“We do not have a choice but to submit if we wish to survive. We dishonor the gods, however. There is no victory in surrender.”
“And neither is there in death,” I counter, as Bodil is a fool. “I was once a prisoner too. I understand you do what you must to survive. Why did Bodil provide us sanctuary then if she does not intend to help me?”
“I suspect it has something to do with Ulf,” she reveals while I shake my head.
“That man needs to be neutered.”
She stifles a laugh behind her hand.