Gannets and guillemots soared in the cerulean sky, the midday summer sun making the weather very warm as she cautiouslydescended the steep, grassy slope.
At the bottom of the cliff, low tide revealed mudflats and small puddles where sandpipers, oystercatchers, and dunlins poked their long bills into the sand for shellfish. In the distance, she spotted the striped sails of thedrakkarwarships docked at the mouth of the river.That’s where Skårde and his men are working today. Finishing the barricade to fortify the port.A wave of desire washed over her at the thought of his magnificent body and the unknown delights he had shown her in bed.Like my lusty husband, I can’t wait for tonight.Smiling inwardly, she crossed the rocky beach toward the familiar rushing and splashing of the nearby waterfall. The thunderous roar echoed in the curved, sheltered inlet of the towering white chalk cliffs.
“Please wait here at the entrance,” she said to the armed royal guards. “I won’t be long.”
Inside the opalescent grotto bathed in late morning light, the gleaming wooden sculpture of Divona stood on the rocky shelf that Skårde had chiseled into the wall of the limestone cave. At the base of the polished statue, nine turquoise gems and three silver coins glittered, flanking the pair of scallop shells that she and Skårde had centered on the limestone ledge of the shrine. Ylva had added the two scallop shells she’d saved from the wedding feast. And today, as an offering to the goddess, she’d picked a sprig of sea lavender in the meadow on her way down the slope. As she tucked the sweet smelling spray of fragrant purple flowers at Divona’s feet, she whispered a prayer of gratitude to the Celtic Goddess of Sacred Springs.
“Thank you for bringing me here to Normandy. For entwining my fate with Skårde’s. I am happy with my new husband. For the first time in my life, I feel loved.”
Ylva’s heart soared like the seabirds in the summer sky as she stood inside the waterfall cave. She peered into the bubbling waters of the deep pool where the cascade tumbled from the top of the cliff and splashed into a basin of smoothly polished rock. Sunlight glittered on Divona’s sacred spring, radiant light reflecting through the waterfall like dazzling, brilliant gems.
As she gazed into the ebullient pool, darkness suddenly descended and a hushed silence fell. On the surface of the water,unbidden images appeared as Ylva stood mesmerized in the throes of a trance.
She glimpsed a fleet of sleek Viking ships bearing unfamiliar sails with the emblem of a huge black raven on a background of solid white. As Ylva stared at the reflections unfolding in the otherworldly vision, hundreds of axe-wielding warriors poured from the raven ships onto a bloody, beleaguered beach. Heart pounding, mouth dry, she felt as if she were there on the battlefield, ready to fight. But who were the raven warriors? Friend or foe?
Slowly, Ylva’s senses returned.
The roar of the waterfall thundered in her ears.
The crisp, saline scent of the sea filled her nostrils.
A soft summer breeze caressed her cheek.
Still reeling from the horrific images she’d foreseen, Ylva felt her legs shake violently under the long gown.
Breathless, she whispered a prayer to the Celtic Goddess of Sacred Springs and the Nordic Goddess of the Sea. “Divona and Rán, please help me understand this vision. Guide me to discover the truth.”
Ylva inhaled deeply to calm her frazzled nerves, smoothing her gown to steady herself.I must speak to Úlvhild. Perhaps she can interpret my vision. It must be a warning of an impending attack. But where? When? And who are the raven warriors? Allies or enemies?
Ylva stumbled out of the sea cave, stopping to drink from the sacred spring, splashing the icy water from the pool upon her flustered face. She summoned her awaiting guards. “We must hurry back to the castle and inform Lady Gyda that I’m going to Úlvhild’s cottage. I need to speak to thevölvaright away.”
“At once, my lady. Please, allow me.” Kallez, the highest ranking of her personal guards, escorted Ylva across the pebbled beach to the path which led up to the oceanfront fortress. With a reverent bow of his mail-coiffed head, he offered a gallant arm and helped her climb back up to the top of the cliff.
She dashed across the meadow toward the oaken double doors where the castle guards—immediately alert in response to her perceived distress—were reassured by Kallez and Ylva’s personal knights.
Darting through the foyer, she caught the worried eye of Petroc, but dismissed him with a gesture of her hand. She raced down the hall, past the servants’ quarters, up the stairs to her father’s private solar where Gyda and Dagny were weaving linen and chatting in a sunny corner of the comfortable room.
At the sight of a breathless, harried Ylva, both women set down their looms, worry etched upon their startled faces.
“Ylva, what’s wrong?” Gyda rushed to her side.
Dagny pulled up a chair, seated Ylva, and poured her a goblet of ale.
Ylva took a few gulps to catch her breath, then told them of her disturbing sighting in the waterfall cave. “I didn’t recognize the port. And it was nighttime in the vision, so I could barely see the beach where the battle occurred. I must speak to Úlvhild. Perhaps she can cast her runes or seekseiðrwisdom to interpret my vision.”
****
While Kallez and her knights stood guard outside, Ylva knocked on the door of the wooden cottage. The sweet smell of smoke and incense wafted from an opening in the peaked, thatched roof.
Úlvhild’s eyebrows raised in surprise as she greeted Ylva at the entrance. “I didn’t expect you so soon. But please come in.”
Inside the dim hut, a golden-eyed black cat observed them from a sumptuous pile of brightly colored silks and exotic furs on a bed in the back of the room. Drying herbs were suspended from metal hooks in the ceiling, and the pungent scent of rosemary and sage again reminded Ylva of the herbal remedies she’d always prepared with her mother Lova in their stone cottage in Saint-Suliac. An iron cauldron simmered on the hearth, and the spicy scent of myrrh burned in a gem-encrusted ceramic incense bowl on the nearby wooden shelf.
Úlvhild seated her at the round table where each afternoon, Ylva was learning to wieldgaldrmagic and the healing properties of crystals and gems. Pouring two goblets of mead, thevölvahanded oneto Ylva with a welcoming smile. “Shall we begin our lesson a bit early today?”
Ylva gulped several swallows of mead and detailed her disturbing vision in the waterfall cave. “I went back to the castle and told Gyda and Dagny what I’d seen. I explained that I needed to speak to you right away.” She downed another gulp, her mouth dry and her limbs still shaking. “Can you interpret my sighting? What does it mean?”
Úlvhild fingered the black leather pouch attached to her belt. “I’ll cast the runes. Perhaps the three Norns will reveal our fate.”
