Chapter 17
Shadowbound Spy
Bodo descended the winding stone stairwell with úlf, Njáll, Flóki, and Hrólf Redbeard, back down to the black sandy beach and the bustling trade center of ólafsvik.
As he followed ólaf One-Eye and four of the queen’s Lsósálfar sentinels toward the teeming docks where their drakkar ships were moored, he spotted óttar Skov seated around the firepit in front of úlfskál with several of Njord’s Danish warriors.
At the sight of the úlfhéenar and Ljósálfar royal guards headed toward their ships, Njord’s crewmen sprang to their feet and rushed forward to help unload the trunks and personal items to be carried up to the íslyra fortress.
As the men scrambled and shouted, hurrying past him, Bodo approached óttar Skov, who motioned for him to follow as he disappeared into the dark alley behind the blacksmith shop.
Bodo trailed the spy past the bellowing forge, where the roaring fire belched through a chimney and sparks leapt into the shadows. óttar lurked beside a low stone wall behind the smithy near troughs of filthy water, scattered tools, and scraps of discarded metal.
“Has Njord claimed the Dwarven blade?” The continuous clang of the hammer on anvil and the roar of forge cloaked the Varangian warrior’s husky voice.
“The queen is taking him to álfheim, once the trunks are delivered to the castle. She has hidden it there all these years, awaiting his return.” Bodo cast an uneasy look over his shoulder, concerned that he might have been followed.
“álfheim…” Skov hissed, nodding with dawning comprehension. “No wonder Gúldur was unable to find it.”
“Elfi and Njord will marry this evening,” Bodo announced quietly. “The entire castle of íslyra is preparing for the royal wedding. Hence the hurry to retrieve trunks from the ships.”
Skov exhaled in disgust, then shrugged his broad, armored shoulders.
“It matters not. The Count of Soissons can acquire le Chateau Blanc of étretat by marrying Elfi as a widow as easily as a maiden.” He adjusted his brynja and heavy woolen cloak, “Once Njord has claimed the úlfsongr sword, you must lure Elfi to the warm underground spring beneath the black cliff just south of the village. Tell her the bubbling pool there steams, warmed by Freyja’s breath, blessing the earth with abundant flowers and healing herbs.
A gift of the goddess she simply must behold. ”
Cold black eyes, hard as obsidian, fixed Bodo with a piercing, malevolent stare.
“I will be there—in the form of Njord’s white wolf—feigning an injury to draw her near.
Once I have hold of her, you will fetch Njord.
And he will relinquish úlfsongr to save Elfi’s life.
” A sinister grin slithered across Skov’s serpentine face.
“Gúldur and his ally Skugga have an army of Rus raiders and Dókkálfar beached beneath the Lóndrangar cliffs. When you bring Njord to save Elfi, rally the úlfhéenar and Ljósálfar to accompany you as well. We cannot attack the queen’s fortress at the top of the mountain.
You must lure them into an ambush down here. ”
A sudden surge of foreboding raised the hackles on the back of Bodo’s neck.
Primal instinct told him to bare his fangs and tear the traitorous throat of óttar Skov.
But as úlfhéenar urges flooded Bodo’s lupine blood, the Varangian warrior withdrew a bloodstone amulet suspended from a black leather cord from beneath his padded tunic.
He removed the glove from his hand and rubbed the trio of glowing red runes etched into the silver which encased the talisman’s cursed stone.
The bloodstone ring on Bodo’s left hand pulsed, instantly calming the raging beast within, suppressing his innate response to attack.
A wicked gleam glinted in the soulless eyes of óttar Skov, who commanded Bodo as he calmly tucked the bloodstone amulet beneath the gambeson under his chain mail tunic.
“Ensure that the Son of the Dragon and the Falcon of the Faroe Islands follow you to the meadow beneath the black cliff. Once there, you will obtain the úlfsongr sword from Njord, who will gladly sacrifice it to save his beloved Elfi. Give the blade to Gúldur, for him to avenge the death of his fallen brother by slaying the Ljósálfar Lord of Starlight. Gúldur will then behead the Wolf of the Nordic Seas, while Skugga slays Haldor Falk and the Son of the Dragon. We shall abduct Elfi, and bring her to the Count of Soissons, who will pay us handsomely. You and your woman may return with us to the Frankish port of Frisia. Or book passage back to the Lofoten Islands of Norway. The choice is yours.” The shapeshifting troll flashed Bodo a triumphant, gloating grin.
“Now, head back to the ships and help with the trunks. Tomorrow, lead Elfi to the spring right after dagmál. I shall be waiting—in the form of Njord’s injured white wolf. ”