Chapter 40 #2
When everyone at the high table was seated, Lord Thorfinn rose, elkhorn raised high, a hearty grin stretching across his bearded face.
“To King Sweyn and Queen íssla, whose gifts honor us all…” He turned, beaming at the three couples seated beside him.
“…and to the winter solstice brides and grooms, now bound by wedding vows.” He lifted his goblet higher. “Skál!”
The jubilant hall echoed the joyous cry with goblets raised, the golden firelight dancing on silver, silk, and swords.
Lord Thorfinn turned toward the hearth where poets and harpists waited in shadow. “And now, let songs fill the castle walls and entertain us all. Bring forth the trio of skalds!”
Skjold recognized his faeir’s skald, who had entertained the entire castle of Chateaufort when he was a lad.
Now clad in Sk?rde’s heraldic colors, Bragi’s chestnut curls and neatly trimmed beard were threaded with silver, like the hem of his emerald green tunic.
Singing in Old Norse and Norman French, the troubadour alternated both language and instrument, accompanying his skaldic verses with lyre and lute as he performed The Brown Wolf and the Loyal Heart, his wedding song for Bodo and Sif.
Egil was the next skald to perform, his long grey hair and beard braided with blue beads, a rowan wreath atop his humble head.
Like Bragi, Egil accompanied his verses with a duo of instruments, alternating between lyre and flute in his rendition of The White Wolf and the Siren’s Song, his winter solstice wedding tribute to Elfi and Njord.
Elation illuminated Skadi’s lovely face as she watched the third skald stride into the center of the Great Hall. “That must be your uncle’s skald óeleifr,” she whispered into his ear. “Look at his magnificent harp.”
Etched with blackened runes and images of dragons, the intricately carved harp was inlaid with Skjold’s spirit stone of lapis lazuli, and glowing moonstones, in honor of Skadi’s Ljósálfar blood. The nine iridescent strings shimmered like an icy fjord under starlight.
óeleifr’s pale blond hair was braided down his broad back, his deep blue woolen cloak embroidered with dragons and flames. At the sight of the finely wrought silver brooch fastened at the skald’s shoulder, Skjold’s breath hitched.
It was shaped like a dragon entwined with a shield, in honor of Skadi and Skjold.
óeleifr strummed the mellow notes, his deep voice smooth as golden mead, as he retold the tale of how Skadi met Skjold in his winter solstice wedding song, Dragonfire and Dwarven Shield: the Saga of Soulbound Mates.
Skjold’s spirit soared like Skadi’s wings at the jubilant sound of riotous cheers. The wedding guests had enjoyed the skaldic song as much as he.
Lord Thorfinn rose once more, his deep voice ringing like a bronze bell over the raucous din. “Tonight, we have heard a trinity of skalds sing a trio of winter solstice wedding tributes. To Bragi, Egil, and óeleifr. To skaldic songs and wedding vows. Let us drink in their honor. Skál!"
He lifted his mead horn high. “Now let us dance in the snow around the bonfire, beneath the starlit sky and the winter solstice moon. Let the music begin!”
“I cannot wait to hold you in my arms.” Skjold rose from the high table, grasped Skadi’s slender hand, and helped her stand. “Come, my soulbound wife. Let’s celebrate our wedding night…and dance in the moonlight.”
* * * *
The salty breeze was cold off the windswept cliffs as Skjold led Skadi out of the castle and into the clearing where the bonfire sent sparks soaring into the dark sky strewn with stars.
Young warriors clad in glinting chain mail sparred with real blades, their mock battles meant to impress the awestruck maidens gathered nearby, who squealed as sparks flew from clashing, ringing steel.
While musicians played lyres, lutes, drums, and flutes, the úlfhéenar howled and hooted with laughter, dancing in wild abandon around the roaring flames.
Njáll danced with Luna, his sinewy arms wrapped protectively around the lovely Ljósálfar, whose moonstone necklace glimmered like the glowing orb overhead.
Skjold led Skadi to a more secluded section of the clearing, along the edge of the forest where Njord and Elfi danced close by.
“We can still hear the music, but we can talk here as well.” He swept her into his arms and leaned down to claim her irresistible lips.
“You are a breathtaking bride. I am so glad you are mine.”
Skadi hummed and rested her head on his white bearskin clad shoulder. “Me too.”
“I cannot believe my uncle granted us the Hrímborg castle near the V?gakallen mountain. That’s where Haldor and úlvhild are right now—in the Dragon’s Leap cave.” Skjold swirled Skadi to the thumping, rhythmic beat.
“And Queen íssla gave us a moonstone cottage—on the eastern shore of Lyrian Lake! We can eat frosted starfruit during this season of Jól. We might even be able to visit Elfi and Njord’s castle on the Elandrian Sea.
” Skadi’s pale blue eyes sparkled like stars.
“Miralir,” she whispered, her limpid voice laced with awe. “The name even sounds like music.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Skjold spotted Bodo approaching Njord. Something was definitely wrong, for his head hung low, as if ashamed, and he loped with a noticeable limp.
When Njord turned toward him, Elfi slipped from his arms and joined Sif, who lingered nearby.
“I have something to tell you, Njord.” Bodo’s voice caught, grief and remorse etched into his scarred, bearded face. Atop his lowered head, the piercing eyes of the brown wolfskin glinted in the incandescent light.
He hobbled closer and stopped before Njord, raising his head and drawing a deep breath, as if summoning the courage to speak.
“It was my fault that the Count of Soissons infiltrated the castle and entered Elfi’s room.
” Squaring his shoulders before his taller wolf brother, Bodo laid bare his gnawing guilt.
“The ring which cured my limp had been cursed by the Dokkálfar witch. Wearing it placed me under the control of a shapeshifting troll. The one Elfi slew in ísland.” He forced a swallow and spat out the ugly truth.
“Because of me…” he choked, “Elfi…and your babe that she carries… could both have fallen that night.”
Bodo’s voice dropped to a barely audible growl. “I was the one who gave the key to the castle keep to the troll Narglok. The treacherous spy known as óttar Skov…” He held Njord’s bitter gaze. “…who served the Count of Soissons.”
Njord said nothing. His white wolfskin cloak glowed in the hallowed moonlight, its purity a stark contrast to the dark wolf whose head hung low in shame.
The silence hung heavy in the cold, salty night air.
Finally, Njord inhaled sharply and let out a deep, low sigh. “Elfi told me how you confessed that night.” His feral gaze was ragged and raw. “She said you spoke the truth not only to her, but to Lord Thorfinn, Jarl Rikard, Sif…and the whole úlfhéenar pack.”
He took a few steps away. pacing like an angry wolf. When he turned back to face Bodo, his upper lip curled in a fierce snarl. “The beast in me wants to rip out your throat.”
His guttural growl sent a shiver up Skjold’s spine.
Clenching his fists, as if to strangle the fury in his lupine blood, Njord slowly regained control.
When he looked at Elfi, his livid expression eased.
“But my She-Wolf mate—la Louve Blanche—also reminded me how the Norns twisted the threads of fate that night, turning what might have been tragedy into triumph. For not only did you provide the means for Elfi to avenge her broeir’s death…
she also realized her childhood dream to become the Shieldmaiden of étretat. By saving Chateau Blanc.”
Njord slowly approached Bodo, his deep voice raspy and hoarse.
“You were my faeir’s closest friend.” Sorrow and suffering shone in his solemn gaze.
“You told me how Brokk died in your arms, and how you promised him you would find me. And train me, as he trained you.” He looked down at the snow beneath his fur-wrapped boots, then raised his eyes back to Bodo.
“You introduced me to the pack…taught me to shift and hunt like a wolf…took me to ísland to meet my moeir and reclaim my faeir’s Dwarven sword.
” He rested a gloved hand on Bodo’s wolfskin-clad shoulder.
“You trained me every night in la Forêt du Loup, prepared me to battle the Dokkálfar so that I could fulfill the prophecy… and slay the Dokkálfar Blacksmith of Dorestad.” Njord gripped both of Bodo’s broad shoulders and shook them with rough affection.
“You are my mentor. My friend. My broeir. Of course I forgive you.” He pulled Bodo into a fierce bear hug.
“You and I share the blood of the wolf.”
Elfi and Sif rushed forward, throwing their arms around their husbands’ necks, kissing bristled faces and wolfskin cloaks, tears of joy streaming down their smiling cheeks.
Laughter rippled across the snow-dusted clearing as Skjold and Skadi joined the embrace, sealing the tender moment of redemption, forgiveness, and healing.
“You’ll have to come to our castle, once we’ve had the chance to see it ourselves,” Elfi quipped to Skadi and Skjold, nearly breathless with laughter. “We can spend some of the Jól season in álfheim. And some of it here with you two, of course,” she added, kissing Bodo and Sif on the cheek.
“We can share frosted starfruit in our moonstone cottage on Lyrian Lake.” Skadi’s radiant smile lit up her beautiful face. “And since we also promised to visit Lugh and Luna, we’ll have a glorious Jól in álfheim!”
Njáll led Luna across the snowy glen toward the joyous group, white teeth flashing in his dark, wolfish grin.
He threw a brawny arm around Njord’s thick neck, pulling him into a fierce hug.
“Glad to see you’ve forgiven him, too.” Loyalty and brotherhood burned in Njáll’s dark, feral eyes as he held Bodo’s relieved gaze.
“After Bodo confessed the night Soissons and the Dokkálfar attacked Chateau Blanc, the pack welcomed him back.” With his other arm, he pulled Bodo into their savage embrace, a trio of wolves reunited.
“Blood brothers of the úlfhéenar. Eternally bound by Odin.”
When the elated wolves rejoined their grateful mates, Luna spoke to Elfi. “It is wonderful that Queen íssla gifted you the Ljósálfar magic of mir glir. Not only will it enable you to come to álfheim, it will enhance your healing power of sjósóngr, through the Light Elven Song of the Sea.”
Luna’s silvery blonde locks shimmered like the glowing moonstones at the base of her slender throat.
She graced Skjold with a radiant smile. “The queen’s magical gift to Elfi reminds me of the one I offered your mother at her summer solstice wedding at Chateaufort.
” Luna’s deep green eyes sparkled like rare emeralds in the starlight.
“When I gifted her the healing magic of nen glir. The Light Elven Song of Water.”
Skjold smiled at his beguiling bride. “The same Ljósálfar magic Skadi used to heal Haldor, when he was wounded by a Dokkálfar blade.” He leaned over and kissed Skadi’s soft lips. “She saved his life, as he had saved hers.”
At Luna and Njáll’s inquisitive looks, Skjold explained.
“Haldor hurled his Dwarven spear, ísfalkr, into the heart of the Dokkálfar who held her captive—just as the Dark Elf was about to kill her. They meant to prevent us from freeing her …and acquiring a formidable ally.” He wrapped a bearskin-clad arm around Skadi and pulled her close.
“They knew of her power as a frostdragon, and wanted to thwart my fulfilling the prophecy.”
“The Son of the Dragon will shield the cape and defend the future crown.” Elfi whispered the prophetic words. “úlvhild foresaw that you would shield Hugh Capet, to ensure that he would be crowned the new king.”
Her sea goddess eyes flicked from Skjold, to Bodo, then Njord.
“The crimson-eyed witch who struck úlvhild down in ísland must have foreseen the same vision. She sent the Dokkálfar to the dwarf’s cave, so that Skjold would not receive the Dwarven shield.
” Elfi smiled at Skadi. “Or meet the frostdragon who would become his soulbound mate.”
Njord’s deep omen hovered like a foreboding storm.
“We will need Skadi for the upcoming battle against King Lothaire and his Dokkálfar allies. úlvhild foresaw this as well.” The commanding gaze of the Wolf of the Nordic Seas fixed on his wolf brothers and Skjold.
“Thorfinn has called for a war council to meet in his solar tomorrow morn after dagmál, But for now…” he said brightly, casting aside the doom and gloom, “let us celebrate our winter solstice weddings. And dance with our beautiful brides.”