“Send a messenger when you are prepared to infiltrate the castle. Until then, I bid you good day. Farewell Alberic, Count of Soissons.” Gúldur’s frozen grip sent more shards of ice slivering up Alberic’s tense, taut arm.
“Indeed, I will. Thank you, Gúldur.Farðu vel.” Alberic bowed his head and, with a jut of his chin, led Gozo and Engilram back into the Sapphire Chalice Tavern where he and his men would celebrate with a sumptuous seafood feast.
Tomorrow, they would return triumphant to his Frankish fortress in Soissons.
He would deliver Lord Thorfinn to Richard the Fearless as promised on the first of October—along with the magically altered swordGaladir.
He would present theDökkálfardaggerWolfsbane, the cursedShadowbindring, and the bloodstone amulet to the shapeshifting troll Narglok.
Alberic’s valuable spy, safely ensconced in the Land of the White Chalk Cliffs.
Undetected by the Vikings of Normandy and theÚlfhéðnarwolves of Norway.
The Varangian warrior Óttarr Skov.
Chapter 17
Wolves and Waves
Moonlight filtered through the dense foliage of gnarled beech and ancient oaks, illuminating the foggy, salty mist from the nearby sea in a haze of silvery shadows. An owl hooted from the darkness amidst a rustling of leaves, the croaking of frogs in a nearby pond, and the high-pitched yip of a creeping fox. His lupine senses heightened and alert, a tense Njörd stood in the clearing oflaForêt du Loup,encircled bythe warriors of hisÚlfhéðnarpack.
“This enchanted forest is encased in Lugh’s protective shield. If you are ever wounded, come here and shift. You will heal much more quickly as a wolf.” Brawny arms stretched wide, Úlf gestured to the expansiveForêt du Loup. “But remember— if you are injured by aDökkálfarweapon, coming here is not enough. You must be cured by aLjósálfarhealer within three days. Even a mere scratch will prove fatal.”
The mammoth blond warrior, cloaked in the fur of a great grey wolf, strode across the woodland glade where they trained every evening, toward the giant beech tree at the edge of the clearing. He turned to face Njörd, blue eyes ablaze with challenge. “You must learn to become a wolf at will, not when triggered by an innate, unrestrained urge.” Úlf withdrew a wrapped parcel from the leather belt where his weapons were sheathed. “We must retain human form to disarm aDökkálfar. Then shift into a wolf for the kill.” He meticulously unfolded the leather enveloping the package with enormous, scarred hands. “In some situations,being a wolf is preferable. For enhanced senses, speed, endurance… even disguise. But sometimes, when and where you shift is a matter of life or death. Youmustcontrol your inner power.”
The alpha wolf of theÚlfhéðnarlaid a broken dagger on the leaf-strewn ground. Sinister swirls on the deadly blade shimmered like smoke, and malevolent marks pulsed and glowed in the starlight. “This is aDökkálfarweapon. Resist the primal pull. Channel your focus. And remain human.”
Searing flames roared through Njörd’s veins like plumes of fire as the rank, repulsive odor assailed his flaring nostrils. Adrenaline flooded like molten liquid, his limbs shaking as he furiously fought for control. Unable to resist the irrefutable force, his overwhelmed body succumbed to instinct.
Thick white fur now covered his skin, four pointed claws jutted from his paws, and sharp, curved teeth lined his elongated maw. In frustration, fury, and failure, he howled at the opalescent moon.
“Shift back and try again.” Úlf bellowed over Njörd’s raging roar.
Human once more, Njörd’s muscles began to spasm uncontrollably at the noxious odor of theDökkálfardagger. White fur sprouted in sparse patches from his tautly stretched skin. His traitorous body writhed and twisted as sharp claws appeared, then retracted, into his long lupine paws. Gripping his head in agony as his jaw extended and teeth curved, he resisted the transformation, willing himself to remain human. Like a drowning man struggling against a tumultuous sea, Njörd wrestled with his savage inner wolf.
This time, although he managed to remain mostly human, tufts of wiry wolf fur covered his partially clad body.
Howls of laughter rippled through the moonlit forest from his mockingÚlfhéðnarpack.
“Again.” Úlf barked the brusque command.
As Njörd shook like a shaggy dog to resume human form, Bodo hobbled toward him, bearded face feral and fierce. “You’retheWolf of the Nordic Seas. Let ocean waves ice the wolf’s inner fire. Focus on calm as you float on the sea.”
Njörd stared into the shrewd, lupine eyes of the warrior who had been his father’s closest friend. TheÚlfhéðnarthat Brökk had asked to train him. The mentor he had grown to trust.
Wrapped in the white wolfskin of the otherworldly guardian his father had sent to protect him, Njörd deeply inhaled the soothing brine of the cool nocturnal breeze. The saline scent of the sea.
He gazed at theDökkálfardagger. The fetid odor of death invaded his preternatural sense of smell. His limbs twitched, his skin stretched, and molten fire flowed in his veins. As the engulfing flames of transformation sizzled up his spine, he imagined being a boy again inBjørgvin, plunging into the icy fjords of Norway to squelch the blistering heat.
Sweat beaded on his furrowed brow. Rage roared through his shaking limbs. But he remained human.
He had tamed his inner wolf.
“You did it! You controlled the shift.Vel gert.Well done.”Úlf rewrapped theDökkálfarblade and sheathed it in the wooden scabbard at his waist. “Now, show the pack you can shift at will. Become the white wolf of theÚlfhéðnar.”
Like bellows over a blazing forge, Njörd stoked the flames of his internal furnace. He remembered the revolting, infernal stench of theDökkálfardagger and unleashed the fiery fury.
Wiry white fur blanketed his skin. Leaves and twigs snapped under the thick pads of his massive paws. As Njáll the tracker howled to indicate the wild boar he had selected for their prey, Njörd loped throughla Forêt du Loup.
