Chapter 21 #2
Haldor grasped úlvhild’s hand and lifted it to his bearded lips, locking her frantic gaze with fierce falcon eyes.
He swept up to the top of the hill, raised his arms overhead, and emitted a sharp, piercing cry.
. Within moments, the sky darkened with the sudden swoosh of wings from hundreds of swarming, squawking birds.
When he lowered his hands, he touched the ouroboros ring and shouted, “Orkadrakk!” to summon Skadi.
In the distance, as Elfi hurled giant waves that crashed onto the enemy ships, úlvhild spotted enormous dark shapes beneath the turbulent sea, each form twice the length and width of Skugga’s snekkja which blocked the harbor.
Powerful spiked tails and massive scaled bodies with barbs like maces churned and whipped the choppy sea, swirling in spirals which spilled screaming warriors into the treacherous depths.
Monstrous reptilian heads with huge, pointed horns and elongated snouts filled with fangs slammed into the ships, cracking hulls, splintering decks, and devouring the drowning men.
On the grassy field near the slain troll, while Skjold maintained the towering wall of frostfire flame around Luna and Sif, four Dokkálfar with deadly swords circled Ildris, trapping him in place.
As úlvhild summoned sólrún and blasted the Dokkálfar with the blinding light of the sun, Gúldur lunged at Njord with a killing strike.
But the White Wolf blocked the blow and spun wide, fulfilling the fateful prophecy with his father’s Dwarven sword.
By severing the vile head of the Dokkálfar Blacksmith of Dorestad.
Solar magic flew from úlvhild’s fingers, destroying the shadow cloaks of the Dark Elves.
Snarling wolves tore open their vulnerable throats.
Cracking and creaking as their reptilian skin turned to stone, the Dokkálfar exposed to sunlight or the radiant gildir gems of Ljósálfar weapons petrified before her very eyes.
Amidst the screams of dying men, roaring flames, and the deafening clash of steel, a bone-deep shriek split the sky, as an enormous dragon dove from the clouds, frostfire unfurling from its massive maw.
As flames erupted all around, a wave of horror swept over úlvhild.
For the scarred Snake Warrior from her seier vision slithered stealthily toward Haldor.
And at his side, a flame-haired, crimson-eyed witch.
Enshrouded in swirls of smoke.
As the Snake Warrior raised his Dokkálfar blade to strike down her beloved Falcon, úlvhild channeled the divine light of the Sun Goddess Sól into Skugga’s sinister eyes. He screamed in agony, vainly swatting at the spewing flames which burned into his skull.
Searing pain shot through her belly, knocking úlvhild to her knees.
Black tendrils poured from the witch’s outstretched arms, writhing like snakes which wrapped around úlvhild’s throat.
As foul fumes smothered her, and the coils constricted, cutting off her breath, úlvhild poured the last of her essence into Haldor through the seierfjáer rune.
* * * *
The soulbound mark on his chest seared with sudden, blaring heat.
Haldor spun, just as Skugga’s eyes burst into flames and the Snake Warrior fell backward, writhing on the ground and shrieking.
A surge of seier magic wrenched Haldor’s gaze to úlvhild.
She clutched at her throat, gasping for breath, while a witch with long scarlet hair and pale skin etched with black runes cast swirling shadows which crushed and consumed her.
Haldor grabbed the Dwarven spear strapped across his back.
And hurled the unerring ísfalkr into the black heart of the crimson-eyed witch.
An inhuman shriek rang out across the vale—a raw, ragged wail from the Underworld.
The dark shadows smothering úlvhild recoiled, as if in pain, slithering back into the witch like snakes.
Myrkkha’s body arched, her spine twisted, and the runes on her skin flared with crimson fire.
As they dimmed and died out, she crumpled in a heap of ash when the last of Hel’s breath left her lungs.
Haldor rushed to úlvhild and dropped to his knees, cradling her head with unsteady hands.
Her breath was faint and ragged. She was alive, but broken.
He poured his soul, his love, and his magic through the seierfjáer to sustain her.
As he had done near Dvalinn’s cave when Dáinn was injured, Skjold removed a small section of the frostfire shield which encircled Luna and Sif so that they could join Haldor. Once they were all gathered around úlvhild, he rekindled the blue flame to protect them.
Raptors dove like spears from the sky. Their sharp talons and curved beaks tore the flesh and pecked out the eyes of screaming Rus raiders and Frankish warriors who retreated north, desperate to escape.
While Luna cleansed úlvhild with the healing magic of nen glir, Skadi rent the sky with a harrowing screech, swooping down to unleash a flood of ice blue flame over the fleeing, doomed men.
Silence stretched across the meadow.
When the dense smoke finally cleared, the bloody battlefield was littered with stone statues of petrified Dokkálfar and the smoldering bodies of slain warriors, Skugga, Myrrkha, and the vile troll.
Skjold retracted the shield of fire and dashed over to Haldor. His haggard, haunted gaze raked over úlvhild. “Is she alive?”
Haldor’s voice broke. “Barely.” He frantically searched Luna’s luminous face. “Did you heal her? Will she live?”
As Elfi, Njord, Njáll, and the others gathered near, Luna replied in a clear, calm voice. “úlvhild lives. I have cleansed her of Dokkálfar darkness, but I cannot revive her. For she has been stricken with the malevolent magic of a goddess.”
“Then she must be cured by a goddess!” Haldor spun to Skjold.
“I need to take her to the Dragon’s Leap cave in the Lofoten Islands—where I once summoned Freyja.
The goddess of seier must cure her volva.
” He shot to his feet and scanned the shore, now free of enemy ships.
Eyes wild, he cast his desperate gaze at the wolf warriors around him.
“Help me get her to my ship. We have to sail with the outgoing tide.”
Gr?skegg, Haldor’s loyal captain, had raced up from the beach. Breath heaving, he hollered to the Blóesmier crew down on the shore. “Ready the ship! We sail with the tide!”
Njord removed his white wolfskin cloak, thick with the scent of blood, battle, and smoke. He handed it to Haldor and dropped to a crouch on úlvhild’s opposite side. “We’ll carry her in this.”
Together they bore her and her moonstone staff down the slope to Freyja’s Falcon, the wind whipping their wild hair and tugging at their beards, the silent sky dull with smoke and ash.
After Gr?skegg quickly gathered blankets and created a mock bed for her in the stern, Haldor laid úlvhild gently onto the deck, He returned the wolfskin cloak to Njord.
The Wolf of the Nordic Seas draped the white fur over his shoulders and secured the clasp as Elfi knelt and kissed úlvhild’s brow. “We’ll return to the Pays de Caux to greet Thorfinn and bury Dag with his Elven blade.” Njord turned to Skjold. “Do you sail with us?”
“Nei. I sail with Haldor.” Skjold inclined his head, fierce loyalty blazing in his warrior eyes.
He stood with Skadi, who had shifted back into her Ljósálfar form, strands of her long blonde hair whipping in the salty wind.
Their left palms were tightly joined, fusing their souls through the droplet of frostfire flame.
Skjold eyed his new captain and continued speaking to Njord.
“Hjálmarr and I will sail Dragonfire back to Norway alongside Freyja’s Falcon.
We’ll seek lodging in V?gan, where I can obtain supplies for Haldor and úlvhild.
” The blue dragon inked around Skjold’s thick neck glowed as he grinned at Haldor.
“And deliver them by sled during the winter.” He turned to Skadi, his gaze fierce.
“Do you know the cave atop the V?gakallen Mountain?”
She flashed him an impish grin. “Of course I do. Why do you think it’s called the Dragon’s Leap?
” Skadi traced the glowing stone on Skjold’s Dwarven shield.
“It’s near the portal to Jótunheim— where Dvalinn found this Hrímsúl gem.
” She kissed Skjold’s blond, bearded lips.
“I’ll come find you soon in the village longhouse in V?gan.
After nine or ten days have passed, to give you time to arrive in Norway. And settle úlvhild inside the cave.”
Skjold nodded and hugged her tight, whispering a private message into her ear. When he released Skadi and glanced down at úlvhild’s still form, concern clouded his compassionate gaze. He spoke quietly to Njord and Elfi. “Gods willing, we’ll all sail home in the spring.”
A grim thought gripped Haldor.
To face the Frankish army of King Lothaire.
Haldor rose from úlvhild’s side and clasped Njord’s forearms in farewell. He kissed Elfi’s cheek and watched as Njord escorted her from the ship onto the shore.
Hjálmarr hopped down from the deck of Freyja’s Falcon, strode across the black sand, and climbed aboard Dragonfire while Skjold lingered with Skadi.
Skjold pressed bearded lips to her pale hands, then headed toward the ship. On impulse, he ran back, swept her into his arms, and kissed her deeply while the úlfhéenar whistled and howled. Reluctantly, he let her go, dashed across the beach, and jumped onto the deck of his ship.
Haldor waved to the úlfhéenar, Ljósálfar, and warriors gathered along the shore.
As the skilled crews maneuvered the snekkja and drakkar out of the harbor and unfurled the sails, he wrapped her volva staff in blankets, furs, and sealskin, securing it alongside the deck of Freyja’s Falcon as he sat down beside úlvhild.
He stroked her long black hair, pouring seier magic into her through the soulbound rune.
Haldor leaned down to kiss her pale cheek. “I love you, úlvhild. Stay with me.”
From the hull of his ship, Haldor watched the village of ólafsvik disappear, as he clung tight to úlvhild’s cold hand.
I pray that Freyja heeds my call.
And heals this wounded volva that I love with all my soul.