He led them around the base of the mountain, away from the village. As they rounded the bend and dashed across a field scattered with wildflowers, Úlvhild spotted a bubbling spring whose wispy curls of white steam rose on the salty breeze from the sea. In the midst of a patch of green grass sprinkled with tiny purple blooms of wild thyme, an obviously injured white wolf lay panting in pain on its right side.
“Njörd—no! Freyja, help me!” Elfi raced across the grass and knelt at his side. She stroked the white fur, inconsolable with grief.
When the wolf lifted its head and licked her face, Úlvhild nearly fell to her knees.
Because Elfi, in a single swooping motion, withdrew theÚlfbladdagger from her waist and slashed the wolf’s throat!
When Elfi jumped back, away from the writhing form, a guttural, unnatural howl tore from the beast as it spasmed in agony amongst the flowers. Its thick white fur was slick with red as dark blood pulsed from the fatal wound.
For a breathless moment, it still looked like a wolf, but the convulsing creaturetransformed into the Varangian warrior Óttar Skov.
And then into a repulsive mass of dark reptilian hide that reeked of rot and decay.
The foul, fetid stench of a troll.
Elfi staggered away from the hulking corpse and rinsed the blood from her blade in the steaming spring.
As Sif and Úlvhild rushed to her side, she showed them theLjósálfardagger with intricate swirls and a trio of runes etched into the silvery blade. Embedded in the ivory hilt, a dazzlinggildirstarstone blazed in the October sun. “Úlfblad,”she murmured, sheathing it in thedragonscalescabbard at her waist. “Crafted by Lugh withthe bones of the sacred white wolf that Njörd wears as hisÚlfhéðnarcloak.”
“How did you know it was not Njörd?” Sif’s voice shook as much as her limbs.
“Because I have met Njörd’s wolf before. And those eyes were not his.” She reached inside the bodice of her gown and lifted the iron talisman as her warrior gaze fixed on Úlvhild. “And thetrollkorsburned hot against my skin.”
Bodo hobbled across the grass, urgency threading his husky voice. “We must hurry — this was a trap.” He tore the bloodstone ring from his finger and showed it to Elfi, Úlvhild, Luna, and Sif. “The troll Narglok used this to control me. I was forced to betray you.” He threw the cursed ring onto the putrid corpse and cast a fearful glance southward. His voice dropped to a rasp. “They’re coming.From both sides.”
In the harbor below, the shrill blast of a war horn split the air as four stealthysnekkja—their white sails marked with soaring black ravens and a slash of blood red—and two larger Frankish vessels with blue sails emblazoned with a silver chalice blocked the mouth of the sheltered inlet. Frantic shouts echoed up the hillside from the black beach as Njörd’s warriors scrambled to defend ships and shore.
Some vaulted over rails to man the decks, taking up bows, spears, axes, and swords. Others rushed to the water’s edge, forming ashieldwallwith a thunder of iron and wood.
And from the southern cliffs, shadows spilled over the ridge like a dark wave of doom asDökkálfar,Rus raiders, and Frankish warriors descended upon them with drawn steel.
Elfi spun to Úlvhild. “I must summon the wolves.” Lifting to her lips the carved bone whistle which hung from a black leather cord around her neck, she furiously blewÚlftiri,her cheeks billowing with the effort. Although no audible sound emerged, within moments, theÚlfhéðnar—including Ólaf One Eye—thundered up from the beach, lupine eyes wild with the call to war.
Behind the wolves raced Haldor, falcon armor gleaming, feather vambraces glistening, and Skjöld, theHrímsúlgem in his Dwarven shield ablaze with ice blue fire. They were flanked by a wedge ofLjosálfarwarriors in frosteddragonscale, armor, thegildirstarstones in their Light Elven weapons shimmering in the pale sun.
Elfi surveyed the harbor, her sharp eyes calculating. She gripped Úlvhild’s arm and indicated a nearby ledge that jutted out over the sea. “I’ll hurl waves at the enemy ships. And wieldsjósongrto summon theMélusines.” She raced off and met Njörd, exchanged a few words in haste. and pressed a kiss to his cheek before dashing to the edge of the bluff.
From the glowing gem of his Dwarven shield, Skjöld projected a plume offrostfire, the ice blue flamesroaring up in a protective circle around Sif and Luna, huddled close to the base of the mountain beneath the black cliff.
With Sif now safe, Bodo joined Njörd and their wolf brothers, barreling across the field toward the approachingDökkálfar.
Haldor grasped Úlvhild’s hand and lifted it to his bearded lips, locking her frantic gaze with fierce falcon eyes. He swept up to the top of the hill, raised his arms overhead, and emitted a sharp, piercing cry.. Within moments, the sky darkened with the sudden swoosh of wings from hundreds of swarming, squawking birds. When he lowered his hands, he touched the ouroborosring and shouted, “Orkadrakk!”to summon Skadi.
In the distance, as Elfi hurled giant waves that crashed onto the enemy ships, Úlvhild spotted enormous dark shapes beneath the turbulent sea, each form twice the length and width of Skugga’ssnekkjawhich blocked the harbor.
Powerful spiked tails and massive scaled bodies with barbs like maces churned and whipped the choppy sea, swirling in spirals which spilled screaming warriors into the treacherous depths. Monstrous reptilian heads with huge, pointed horns and elongated snouts filled with fangs slammed into the ships, cracking hulls, splintering decks, and devouring the drowning men.
On the grassy field near the slain troll, while Skjöld maintained the towering wall offrostfireflame around Luna and Sif, fourDökkálfarwith deadly swords circled Ildris, trapping him in place.
As Úlvhild summonedsólrúnand blasted theDökkálfarwith the blinding light of the sun,Gúldurlunged at Njörd with a killing strike.
But the White Wolf blocked the blow and spun wide, fulfilling the fateful prophecy with his father’s Dwarven sword.
By severing the vile head of theDökkálfarBlacksmith of Dorestad.
Solar magic flew from Úlvhild’s fingers, destroying the shadow cloaks of the Dark Elves.
Snarling wolves tore open their vulnerable throats.
