“My lady…the fire beacon is lit! We must return to the castle at once!” Panic flaring in his wide warrior eyes, a frantic Kallez stood at the mouth of cave.
Ylva’s heart dropped to the sand at her feet.
“Come, my lady. I must get you to safety. Quickly, this way.” Kallez gipped her arm, physically withdrawing her from the cave.
Six guards surrounding her in a protective circle, Ylva was rushed across the pebbled beach and back up the path to the clifftop castle ofChâteaufort.
Chapter 23
Ravenous Raptors
Utter chaos was unfolding when Ylva arrived at the castle.
Knights were donning armor and strapping on swords, axes, and shields. Servants rushed to load weapons and supplies on ships docked at the port. Frenzied shouts carried across the teeming courtyard as warriors raced to ready thedrakkarwarships and retract the newly completed chain boom at the mouth of the river. Sentinels scrambled to their posts in the watchtowers, and castle guards manned the barracks tower on either side of the port.
Ylva frantically searched for Skårde, but didn’t see him among the hectic crowd. She dashed inside the castle, leaving Kallez and her personal guards to help the castle knights prepare for battle. As she raced across the foyer, she spotted Gyda, who indicated with a hand gesture that Skårde was upstairs. Hoisting her skirts to free her feet, Ylva sprinted up the stairs and down the hall.
When she burst into the room, relief flooded her at the sight of Gunni helping Skårde into his chain mail armor. Once the heavy hauberk tunic was in place, Gunni urged Skårde to hurry with a menacing glare, ducking his chin respectfully to Ylva as he hastened out the door.
She flew into Skårde’s arms. “Thank the gods you’re still here!”
He wrapped her in a tight embrace and swooped down to swallow her lips. When he raised his grim face, his heavy brows were furrowed into a scowl. “My voyage to Denmark is impossible now.Fécamp is under attack. We must sail at once. I’ve sent word to your father in Rouen. But it will take him at least two or three days to arrive by sea. By then, the battle will be over. It’s up to me as Count of thePays de Cauxto defend his ducal fortress.”
Pulse pounding in her constricted throat, Ylva quickly withdrew the talisman from the pouch at her waist and showed it to Skårde. “The emerald is imbued withgaldrmagic. And the three runes are etched in my blood.” She cradled the amulet in her palm and indicated the Nordic markings engraved in the silver. “Tiwaz, to give you Tyr’s fury in battle.Algiz, for the protection of the elk. AndEihwaz,so you may summon the aid of the gods when you need them.” She reached up under his long, braided hair and tied the black leather cord around his oxlike neck. Ylva nuzzled the blond tuft at the base of his throat. “You must wear it at all times. Promise me.”
He tucked it safely under his chain mail shirt. Devotion and duty blazed in his brilliant blue eyes. “I promise. And you must promise me that if I do not return…” he lifted her recalcitrant chin, forcing her to face a future she did not want to confront, “…that you will rule as Lady ofChâteaufortand Countess of thePays de Caux.And when thisvitki…this Falcon that Úlvhild has summoned…finally arrives, you and Richard will work with him to free my brother Sweyn. And find a way to return him to my father in Denmark.” Skårde’s piercing gaze bore into her very soul. “Promise me, Ylva.” He kissed her with urgent, imploring lips. “Promise me, my Viking Wolf.”
She blinked back tears, struggling to remain strong. “I promise.” With a tender fingertip, she traced his bearded cheek, fighting the dread that threatened to drown her in despair. “The Raven Warrior has an enchanted sword.”
“So do I.” With a wolfish grin, he patted theLjósálfarblade strapped at his hip that Lugh had given him at the wedding. “Duradrakk. Infused with the strength of a dragon.”
She desperately wanted to tell him about her sighting in the waterfall pool. How he would behead the Raven Warrior, but be stricken by the malevolent enemy sword. Yet—sometimes the Norns altered the threads of thefate they wove, and Ylva feared that if she voiced her horrific vision, it might indeed come to pass. So instead of revealing all, she decided to simply warn him of the danger she had foreseen. “Beware the Raven Warrior’s blade. It’s imbued with evil. I can sense it. If you are wounded in battle, you must hurry home to me. So that I may heal you with my gift ofnen glir.”
“Agreed.” He kissed her softly. “But now, I must go. It will take at least three or four hours—if the winds are with us—to sail to Fécamp.” He pulled her close one last time, his touch searing her with a sizzling current. “I love you, Ylva. Remember your promise.” Grasping her two hands, he fervently kissed the inside of both palms. Eyes ablaze with bluedragonfire,he held her gaze as he yanked the chain mail coif onto his head. With a silent, intense goodbye, he stormed out the oak bedroom door.
She heard his heavy footsteps barreling down the stairs, his deep voice bellowing orders to his men. Desperate to see him off, she raced to the foyer.
And saw the blue woad painted face and feathered, bejeweled cloak of Úlvhild, with a solemn Maeve standing at her side.
“The fire beacon was lit … we heard about the attack on Fécamp. We’ve come to chant avardlokkurat the port and guide our warriors to victory. Come with us. Three is a sacred number.” Moonstone staff clutched tightly in her right fist, Úlvhild grasped Ylva’s hand with her left and led her through the enormous double exit doors ofChåteaufort.
Below the clifftop castle, at the mouth of the Arques River, a towering stone watchtower stood on each side of the natural harbor where Skårde’s men prepared to launch six of the ten Viking longships sheltered in the port.
Gyda, Dagny, Norhild, and Eydis stood with servants and villagers on the west bank near the castle, watching the knights who would remain to defendChâteaufortoperate the massive winch which slowly retracted the chain boom stretched between the two towers. Amidst the creaks and groans of the lifting crank, the heavy links slowly rose to the surface, dripping with brackish water and glistening in the setting sun. As the crew aboard each vessel unfurled sails and hoisted the heraldic banners bearing the green and silver emblem ofthe Dragon of Normandy, the oarsmen began rowing through the clear passage, setting forth toward the open sea.
Úlvhild thumped her staff on the ground. Ylva and Maeve joined in her harmonious chant, summoning thevarðirprotective spirits to bless the valiant Vikings and the departingdrakkarships. Together, their three voices blended in a lyrical, haunting melody that floated on the western wind across the white-capped waves.
When the last of Skårde’s ships disappeared from view, the trio of priestesses ceased their invocation and went back into the castle to pray with Gyda while servants resumed their duties and villagers returned to their homes.
Atop the crenellated walls of the defensive ramparts surrounding the castle and village of Dieppe, vigilant knights kept watch, defendingChâteaufort.Along the river’s edge, fortified outposts and watchtowers, manned by a garrison of knights, were equipped with catapults and ballistae, ready to launch enormous stones, javelins, bolts, and flaming arrows at incoming enemy vessels.
As the sun set over the Narrow Sea, streaking the sky with brilliant shades of orange, pink, and mauve, Ylva prayed for a swift victory and Skårde’s safe return.
And that her sacrifice had been enough.
****
Moonlight glimmered on the waves which lapped against the sleek hull of thedrakkarwarship. Skårde stood with Gunni in the prow behind the carved wooden figurehead of the fierce dragon. Clashing swords, battle cries, and the shrieks of wounded and dying men carried across the Narrow Sea as they navigated the sheltered inlet and approached the besieged harbor of Fécamp.
