Úlvhild slowly returned to her human senses and smiled at the cat curling around her booted feet. “Kól, I can always count on your deafening roar to reach me when I float between the nine realms.Takk, elska. Thank you, love.” Adoration laced her velvety voice as she swooped the cat into her arms, cradling the purring creature like a beloved babe.
After depositing Kól back onto the sumptuous pile of furs on the bed, Úlvhild searched among the countless charms which cluttered her wooden shelves. When she found what she waslooking for, thevölvareturned to her seat across from Njörd and placed an iron amulet on the table in front of him.
Suspended from a black leather cord, the slender piece of hammered metal had been shaped into a curved loop, with each of the two overlapping ends curling upward and inward to form a protective spiral swirl. Nestled among an alternating pattern of three Nordic runes, a trio of droplet shaped lapis lazuli stones with interwoven threads of shimmering gold adorned the iron amulet. When Njörd picked it up, the necklace thrummed in the palm of his sweaty, calloused hand.
“This is atrollkors,” Úlvhild explained, as Njörd examined the unique artistry and superb craftsmanship of the enchanted talisman. “It is made of iron—to defend against malevolent forces. Since three is a sacred number to the Norse gods, this trio of Nordic runes will shield against the dark magic of theDökkálfarand the nefarious troll that I have foreseen with myseiðrvision.” She traced the etched runes with a long, bony finger. “Sowilo,rune of the sun, to protect against darkness.Algiz,the defensive strength of the elk. AndIsa, rune of ice, to form a frozen barrier against the infernal forces ofSvartálfheim.” The völva indicated the three deep blue stones embedded amongst the pattern of runes. “Lapis lazuli will shield your mate against negative energy and strengthen her spiritual connection to the realm of the gods. If a Dark Elf or troll tries to touch her, they will be burned by the defensive wards I have imbued into this amulet.” She grasped Njörd’s forearm, compelling him to look at her.
Intelligence and wisdom shone in Úlvhild’s intense, otherworldly gaze. “Odin has blessed you with preternatural powers. I shall therefore infuse three drops of your blood into thistrollkorstalisman. That your gifts may enhance mygaldrmagic…to defend and protect your mate.”
Úlvhild removed a small, sharp knife from a jeweled scabbard belted at her waist. Taking hold of Njörd’s hand, she pricked his fingertip and guided three droplets of blood into each of theIsa, Algiz,andSowilorunes etched into the surface of the amulet. Chanting an incantation in rhythmic, musical cadence, thevölvawaved the moonstone embellished tip of her wand over the trollkorstalisman, imbuing it withgaldrprotective magic and Njörd’s hallowed blood.
When the enchantment was complete, she pressed the amulet into Njörd’s palm and closed his fingers around it. “Give this to your betrothed. It will protect her from the wicked man who hunts her, his diabolical Dark Elves, and the treacherous troll.”
Njörd carefully rewrapped the white wolf bones in soft deerskin leather, tucking the amulet safely inside. “I’m grateful you have foreseen the dangerous alliance between the Count of Soissons, theDökkálfar, and the troll. Thistrollkorswill defend Elfi against their dark magic.” He secured the parcel containing the wolf bones and protective necklace in the scabbard at his waist. “I am also grateful your vision revealed that aLjósálfarwill craft Elven weapons with the bones of the sacred white wolf.”
He searched the woad-painted blue face of the Viking seeress.I must ask her about the prophecy. “In Norway,” he began cautiously, “avölvarevealed that my fate-—and my mate—would lead me to distant shores across the Nordic Seas.” He stared into Úlvhild’s shrewd feline eyes. “Those predictions have come true, for I have indeed found my mate here in the Land of the White Chalk Cliffs. And I am destined to defend Normandy as the future Count of Étretat. But thevölvaalso foretold that I am prophesied to wield a Dwarven sword. Yet how can I find the blade when I don’t even know where to search?”
Kól jumped up onto Úlvhild’s lap, loudly purring and kneading her red dress with sharpened claws before settling into a contented curl on the sorceress’ bent knees.
As she stroked the cat’s silky black fur, Úlvhild eyed Njörd with a penetrating gaze. “Find the stonecutter with the maimed foot, for he holds the knowledge you seek.”
Njörd thanked thevölvaandpaid her with coin. He exited her enchanted, eerie realm and emerged into the blinding midday sun. Clutching the precious cargo at his hip, he continuedweaving through the crowded path of the busy village, headed toward the castle armory.
In search of the elusive stonecutter with the maimed foot.
Bodo le Boîteux
Chapter 11
Bodo le Boîteux
A thick plume of smoke arose from the massive stone furnace where an apprentice manned the bellows, pumping air onto the raging fire. A metalworker smelted iron ore, gathering the molten liquid and pouring it into molds. Over a nearby open hearth, a blacksmith removed a white hot metal ingot with enormous tongs, holding it in place while a mammoth brute with a sledgehammer shaped it with precisely controlled blows. When the armorer plunged the blazing sword into cooling water, billows of sizzling steam spluttered loudly in the sweltering heat. Workers crafted daggers, chain mail armor, arrowheads, lances, and shields. And assistants created tools, nails, hinges, locks, and keys. Amidst the deafening din of loud hammering and gusty grunts, Njörd entered the clamorous castle armory.
And recognized Bodo immediately.
Just as he’d felt the instant bond with the white wolf in the forest, Njörd knew at once that the stocky, shaggy stone cutter with the piercing gaze was the man he sought.
And thatBodo le Boîteuxhad the spirit of a wolf.
As he stared at the mason who was sculpting an intricate design into a smooth block of white limestone, a violent shiver rippled up Njörd’s spine. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled— not in warning, as if sensing an enemy—but in recognition of a lupine brother.
A wolf warrior, like himself.
The castle armorer, Tóki, stopped hammering, wiped his blackened handson the dingy apron covering his clothing, and approached Njörd with a cordial grin. “Good day, my lord. How may I help you?”
Njörd shook the proffered hand and indicated the craftsman seated at a wooden table in a back corner of the immense workshop. “I’m looking for a stone cutter named Bodo. Is that him?”
Tóki followed the direction of Njörd’s gaze and nodded. “Já,that’s Bodo. A newcomer in town. Got a bad limp, but he’s the best stone cutter I’ve ever met. Glad to have him working for me. Come, I’ll introduce you.”
Weaving through the tables where workers riveted handles on shields, shaped scrap metal into tools and nails, and carved embellishments onto the hilts of daggers and swords, the master blacksmith led Njörd to the heavily bearded stonecutter with wily, lupine eyes.
“Jarl Njörd, this is Bodo Svendsen, a stone cutter from the Lofoten Islands in Norway. He just recently arrived in Étretat, and I’m grateful to have him.” Tóki grinned as Bodo rose stiffly from his seat and shook Njörd’s extended hand. “Bodo—this is Njörd Ívarrsson, the Danish Jarl of Ribe. He’ll be the new Count of Étretat, once he marries Lady Elfi during the Nordic Yule.”
A fiery current sizzled up Njörd’s arm when he shook Bodo’s calloused hand. Recognition and acknowledgement glinted in the stone cutter’s astute, perceptive gaze. “Góðan dag, Jarl Njörd. It is an honor to meet the highly reveredWolf of the Nordic Seas.” Bodo turned toward Tóki, who seemed enormously pleased to have presented the future Lord of Étretat to one of his workers. “I need to speak at length with Jarl Njörd. Would it be all right if I left now? I’ll catch up on my work tomorrow—and stay longer, to compensate for the lost time today.”
The castle armorer appeared amenable to the idea. “Of course. It is my privilege to serve our new jarl.” Tóki inclined his head respectfully to Njörd. “If you’ll excuse me, I must return to my work.Farðu vel, my lord.” He grinned at Bodo and headed back toward the forge. “See you tomorrow.”
A feral fervor gleamed in Bodo’s dark eyes. “I’m glad you found me. I intended to come to you—and introduce myself at the mass wedding celebration this Frigg’s Day. But this is even better. It gives us more time to plan.” He cleaned and stored his tools, wiping off his worktable as he spoke to Njörd. “I have a great deal to tell you about your past. And I must prepare you for the future. There is something I want to show you. My cabin is not far from here. Come, it’s this way.”
