“It is fortunate that you did, for Skårde was injured by aDökkálfarblade. An enchanted sword imbued with Dark Elven magic. He would have died within three days if you had not healed him. OnlyLjósálfarmagic can cure such a fatal wound.” Luna pointed to a sheathed sword standing against the wall in a corner of the Great Hall. Ylva recognized the sapphires in the scabbard from her vision in the waterfall pool. She had seen them strapped to the Raven Warriors’ hip when he unsheathed the sword and struck Skårde in her sighting. “Lugh nullified theDókkálfarmagic. Skårde can hang it as a trophy here in the Great Hall. A symbol of his victory over the Raven Warrior.”
Ylva smiled at the thought. “I must find my father in the solar. Will you join us tonight for the evening meal?” She hoped Luna would remain at the castle.
“Lugh and I will be delighted. I’m sure Ildris and Olvir—two of our friends who have come to aid thePays de Caux—will want to as well. Thank you for the invitation. Go to your father now, I’ll seeyou soon.” Luna flashed another dazzling smile and returned to the injured warriors.
Ylva saw Úlvhild and Maeve across the hall applying salve and bandages to the bloody, broken leg of a wounded knight. She motioned that she was going upstairs. Both priestesses nodded in comprehension, Maeve with a reassuring smile.
On the upper level of the castle, at the end of the hall, Ylva entered the sunny solar. She immediately recognized the silvery blond hair of Lugh. He was flanked by two males who were obviouslyLjósálfarLight Elves.When they rose to greet her, Ylva noted that both were enormously tall like Lugh. One had hair the color of spun copper with eyes of gold. The other had locks of opalescent blond that gleamed almost white. His eyes, like Lugh’s, glowed with green starlight.
Richard’s booming voice bellowed through the bright, airy room. “Greetings,dóttir!Please, join us.” He motioned to the empty seat beside him. Ylva’s mouth dropped open at the sight of Skårde, seated on Richard’s other side. He was grinning from ear to ear.
He must have read her mind, for he leapt from his chair, as if to prove he was healthy and hale. Skårde came toward her, placed his hand on the small of her back as he bent down to kiss her cheek, and escorted her to sit beside him.
“I’d like you to meet Ildris,” Richard continued, introducing the copper-haired Light Elf as a stunned Ylva took her seat. “And Olvir.Ljósálfarfriends of Lugh who have come to help us defend thePays de Caux.”
Ildris extended a long, elegant hand across the table. When Ylva accepted it, he lowered his lips and gallantly kissed her fingers. “Enchanté, Madame la Comtesse.”
Not to be outdone, Olvir executed an impressive obeisance to her as chatelaine ofChâteaufort.His deep voice was mellow and rich like the low notes of a vielle. “A pleasure to meet you, my lady.”
As the charmingLjósálfarduo retook their seats, Richard brought Ylva into the ongoing conversation. “We have been discussing whether to attack Fécamp at once, before King Lothaire of West Francia reinforces thefortress with his Frankish army. Or wait until we’ve gathered sufficient reinforcements to ensure a swift victory.”
“I must sail immediately forHeiðabýras originally planned.I need to inform my father of Anvarr’s betrayal and the loss of Fécamp. I’ll tell him of our plan to save Sweyn and warn him of the betrayal by the Frankish king.” Skårde motioned for a servant to refill his mug of mead and promptly drained his goblet.
His voice is fierce. He radiates strength. And he exudes the fire of a dragon.
“King Lothaire attackedHeiðabýrand captured your brother.I suspect he is the one who gave Anvarr the Dark Elven sword. If you sail to Denmark—even disguised as a Frisian shipping merchant—you might be recognized. And fall prey to theDókkálfarwho forged the Raven Warrior’s blade.” Lugh eyed his two otherworldly companions. “One of us should go with you.”
“I will.” Ildris’ golden eyes glowed in the afternoon sun.
“We just lost three hundred valiant Vikings on the bloody beach of Fécamp. And your knights—who surely feast with our slain warriors in Odin’s glory of Valhalla—died defending the ducal palace. We don’t have the manpower to launch a counterattack against the Franks.” Viggo voiced the ugly truth.
“Then I’ll ask my father to join us.” Skårde glanced around the table, eyeing Gunni, Björn, Viggo, and Richard. “When I tell him of the Raven Warrior’s betrayal and announce our plan to save Sweyn, I’ll ask him to recruit warriors from Norway and the Danish island ofSjælland.”
“Even if he agrees, it will take several weeks to amass an army.Which gives Lothaire enough time to do the same. We need to attacknow.”Gunni slammed his fists on the table.
The thud made Ylva jump in her chair.
“Not yet.” Richard countered Gunni’s frustration and fury with the resolute calm of a seasoned commander. He leaned back in his chair and eyed the war council gathered around the polished oak table. “Lothaire knew of my Viking alliance with Harald through the marriage of Ylva and Skårde. He also knew that Harald had given a sizeable army and fleet of warships as a bride price for my daughter.He attacked a weakenedHeiðabýrand abducted Harald’s heir. And now, by imprisoning the boy, he controls the king of Denmark and Norway.” Richard took a long pull of mead and set his elaborate goblet down on the table. “Lothaire will force Harald to attack thePays de Caux.Which is why you must sail immediately for Denmark and turn a potentially disastrous invasion to our advantage.” He fixed Skårde with a penetrating gaze. “Tell your father to go along with Lothaire. To amass the army and the ships, as if he plans to comply with Lothaire’s demands and attack us. But have him send his warships to Fécamp. To join us in taking it back.”
Brows furrowed in intense contemplation, Skårde nodded in firm agreement. “In the meantime, we’ll fortify our defenses along the coast. If Lothaire sends ships from Paris to reinforce Fécamp from the west, he’ll have to sail up the Seine River to the Narrow Sea. We can intercept him at Le Havre or Étretat. And if he sends a fleet from the Frankish port of Dorestad in Frisia, we’ll seize his ships in the east at Le Tréport.”
Björn, the First Knight of Châteaufort, embellished the defensive strategy. “We can position scouts in the dense woods to the south of the fortress. If Lothaire sends reinforcements by land, we’ll prevent them from reaching the castle.”
Lugh’s deep, melodious voice floated on the saline breeze from the open window. “TheLjósálfarwill help you defend thePays de Caux.Although we do not engage in outright battle—our Light Elven magic is intended only to heal and protect—we will cast powerful wards of enchantment to defend against attack and thwart any evil.”
Olvir’s white hair and wise eyes conveyed the acuity of age. “However, if we should encounter anyDökkálfar, we will take up arms immediately to defend you. Only aLjósálfaror Dwarven weapon can kill a Dark Elf.”
Ylva remembered that Luna had used the termDökkálfarto describe the Raven Warrior’s sword. A shiver of dread crept up her spine at the thought of Skårde’s hideous wound. “What areDökkálfar?”she asked Olvir.“Luna told me that the Raven Warrior’s sword had been crafted byone. And that Lugh had nullified its dark enchantment. She said that onlyLjósálfarmagic can heal a wound inflicted by aDökkálfarsword.” Ylva flashed Skårde a desperate glance. “And that Skårde would have died within three days if I had not healed him with the magic ofnen glir.”
“That is true.Dökkálfarmagic is the opposite of ours. It’s designed to inflict death, disease, and destruction. Dark Elves—also known asMyrkkálfar—are otherworldly creatures who live in the fiery underground realm ofSvartálheim. Their weapons are extremely dangerous, for they always inflict death. If not immediately fatal, any wound will cause death within three days. Unless healed byLjósálfarmagic.” Olvir smoothed the light green silk of his robe. A dazzling stone—clear and pure, like the one in Lugh’s brooch—sparkled like a brilliant star. Ylva, distracted by the radiant gem, noted that Ildris’ golden cloak also had a similar stone in its clasp.What otherworldly gem is that? Perhaps Úlvhild knows.
Ildris’ resonant voice interrupted Ylva’s reverie. “Dökkálfarcan only be killed by a Dwarven orLjósálfarcrafted weapon.Or sunlight.”He gestured to theradiant stone in his brooch. “I noticed you were intrigued by these gems,” he said, motioning to the glittering stones in the threeLjósálfarbrooches. “They’regildirstarstones. Imbued with powerfulLjósálfarmagic.” His intriguing smile was a dazzling as thegildirin his intricate brooch. “And they can reflect sunlight to kill a Dark Elf.”
While Ylva mused over the idea of wielding imbued gemstones as weapons in addition to thegaldrmagic of healing, Skårde redirected the conversation back to the topic of battle. “Gunni, Viggo, and I will sail to Denmark aboard theSea Siren—one of the two Frisian ships we have here in port.” He shot the two men a quick glance. “We’ll load supplies this afternoon and depart tomorrow.”
Gunni and Viggo nodded their consent.
Richard addressed Skårde. “It will take you three weeks to reachHeiðabýr.During your absence, I’ll reinforce thePays de Caux. Establish scouts in the woods near Fécamp.” He took a big gulp of mead and wiped his blond moustache with the back of his hand. “The Falcon—the shapeshifting sorcerer that Úlvhild summoned from the Faroe Islands—should be arriving next week. Once he does, I’ll bringhim with me to Paris and pay a visit to my former brother-in-law, Hugh Capet, onl’ Île de la Cité. From there, the falcon can fly into the royal palace, discover where Lothaire is keeping the boy, and report back to us.” Richard rose from his chair and walked to the window overlooking the inlet. Arms clasped behind his back, he stared pensively at the Narrow Sea. When he turned abruptly, bearded face stretching into a broad grin, the light of a brilliant idea shone in his astute gaze. “TheFoire de Saint-Denistakes place in Paris every autumn onl’Île de la Cité.With your Frisian ship, you can sail up the Seine, disguised as a wool merchant. You and the Falcon can slip into the royal palace and—aided by Hugh Capet—free Sweyn and bring him back here. Odin willing, if Harald’s army arrives and we retake Fécamp, you can reunite father and son. As the Dragon of Denmark, you will have saved your father, your brother, and your kingdom. And, as the Dragon of Normandy… the entirePays de Caux.”
