Moonlight glimmering on the rune-etched silver of her new armband, she stepped into the grassy clearing, facing the wolf who had come to confess.
White wolf cloak draped around her shoulders, Rán’s necklace glimmering at her throat, she met Bodo’s repentant gaze as the bonfire crackled and the briny wind swept up from the Narrow Sea. When she finally answered, her voice was calm and clear as moonlight on a still fjord. “I know your will was twisted by shadow, Bodo. And I know the troll who cursed you is ash. But it was your hand, cursed or not, that obtained the key. If not for that ring, the Count would not have breachedle Château Blanc.”
Anguish blazed in his dark, desperate gaze as she stepped forward and stopped before him. “Yet the Norns weave strange patterns in the threads of fate,” Elfi said, her voice ephemeral and ethereal. “And through your curse, they laid the path for me to fulfill my sacred vow.”
She paused, resting her hand proudly on the silver torc of tribute with which Jarl Rikard had named herLa Louve Blanche. “Because of you, Bodo, I stood before the Count of Soissons — the bloody bastard who slew my belovedbroðir.The coward whoabducted my noblefaðir.The loathsome enemy who thrice attacked this clifftop castle withDökkálfardarkness and malevolent steel. Thanks to you, I kept the vow I made over Dag’s grave — and avenged him withShadowbane, the very sword he once used to train me. For that…” Elfi choked on a sob, “… I not only forgive you. Ithankyou. Because of you, mybroðirhas been avenged.”
Elfi wrapped her arms around Bodo’s shaggy shoulders and held him tight. She kissed his scarred, bearded cheek. In her embrace, he trembled, overcome. “You are forgiven,” she whispered into his beloved ear. “Truly.”
Bodo buried his face in the white fur on her shoulder, shuddering with silent sobs. He lifted his head, relief and grief warring in his loving eyes. “Thank you, Elfi. Though you have pardoned me, I have yet to face Njörd. I risked you—the woman he loves more than life—and his precious unborn child. I doubt he can ever forgive me for that.” He hung his head in shame.
Elfi gently lifted his chin so that he would look at her. She smiled and kissed his wrinkled brow. “I know he will. From the depths of my mermaid heart.”
After a moment, Bodo withdrew from Elfi’s embrace and turned slowly to face Sif. When he spoke, his gravelly voice was raspy and raw.
“You saved me long before the curse was broken.” He hobbled across the glen and stood before her, imploring her with dark, desperate eyes. “You loved me when I was too ashamed to love myself. Limp and all.”
He approached her like a wounded wolf, each step hesitant, until he sank to his knees in surrender. Lowering his humble head to her lap, he pressed his brow to her hand.
A broken wolf begging for forgiveness, acceptance, and love.
Bodo raised his crumpled, bristled face to hers. Devotion, dejection, and disgrace blazed in his repentant gaze. “That’s whyI wore the ring. To make me whole…and worthy ofyou.”
He took her pale hand within his own calloused, scarred paws and raised it to his rugged lips. “Yet by wearing the cursed ring to win your heart, I lost you—the only woman I have ever loved.”
Bodo rose to his feet and backed away, his head bowed as he stood before Sif. “Though against my will, I betrayed you. I understand if you no longer want me.” He lifted his humble head and held Sif’s gaze as tears streamed down her trembling cheeks. “But if even a trace of your heart still remembers mine…” his quavering voice broke on a ragged sob. “Grant me the chance for redemption. To become the man worthy of your love.”
Sif choked out a cry, lurching to her feet before he could finish. She threw her arms around his wolfskin-clad neck and lunged into his brawny arms with such force she nearly toppled him over.
“My heart will always remember yours,” she sobbed, showering his shaggy cheeks with frantic kisses. “You brave, broken brute. And of course we are getting married on the winter solstice.” She hugged him tight and flashed a radiant smile at Elfi. “Alongsidela Louve Blancheand Njörd. Here atChâteau Blanc.”
Bodo lifted Sif off her feet and swirled her in a circle of joy. “You have made me the happiest man alive. I could not love you more.” He set her gently down on the leaf-strewn ground, then solemnly turned to face Thorfinn.
He bowed his head before Elfi’sfaðir, his rough voice thick with remorse and regret. “My lord, I failed you. It was my cursed hand that let darkness into your castle. I beseech your forgiveness.”
Thorfinn rose slowly from the table of honor, his black cloak trimmed with ermine majestic in the moonlight. The bonfire flickered, casting deep lines across his weary face. He had lost weight and strength in the Frankish prison. Elfi’s heart clenched at the misery he had endured because of the despicable Count of Soissons. Triumphant pride surged at the memory of severing the villain’s vile head withShadowbane.Not only had sheavenged Dag’s death, but she had killed the fiend who had made herfaðirsuffer.
Silver streaks in his dark hair and beard shining in the firelight, Thorfinn’s deep voice resonated with command tempered by clemency. “We all carry shame, Bodo. You faced yours, and you laid bare the truth. That takes courage and honor. You have my pardon… but more than that, my respect.”
Bodo lowered his head in reverence. “Your mercy honors me, Lord Thorfinn. I am deeply grateful.” He turned to the Duke of Normandy, the brown wolfskin falling low over his brow as he bowed his head once again and dropped to one knee. “Jarl Rikard, tonight you honorLa Louve Blanche—and I nearly cost her life. I implore forgiveness for the shadow I brought upon your dukedom.”
The silver circlet on Jarl Rikard’s regal head glinted in his white blond hair as he solemnly stood at the table of honor. “Rise, Bodo.” The duke gestured with an opened hand. “Stand with restored honor before all who witness this ducal pardon.”
Bodo regained his feet, adjusting the brown wolfskin cloak over his broad shoulders as he stood before the Viking duke, gratitude and humility ablaze on his bearded face. “A man cannot live without honor, my jarl. You have restored mine… and with it, my life. I thank you, from the depths of myÚlfhéðnarsoul.”
The bonfire crackled, sending sparks into the starry night sky. Waves crashed against the chalky cliffs, salt spray and crisp wind rustling the golden leaves in the canopy of trees. Seated at trestle tables in the silent clearing, the gathered guests waited, expectant and watching.
Jarl Rikard inclined his head, acknowledging Bodo’s gratitude. He lifted his drinking horn high, the amber beads and etched runes along the metal mouthpiece glowing in the golden firelight. His resonant voice echoed across the silent glen.
“Tonight, we honor Elfi Thorfinnsdóttir—La Louve Blanche,She-Wolf of the Sea.” The duke’s commanding gaze lingered on Elfi,sending a shiver of pride up her shieldmaiden spine.
“Her blade struck true, avenging her brother’s death and her father’s honor by slaying the Frankish foe who thrice attacked this castle, withDökkálfardarkness trailing in his wake.” Rikard glanced at the dense forest of the sacred grove whereLjósálfarwards of protection had turned the Dark Elven enemies to stone. The petrified statues they had offered to her grandmother Rán.
Returning his attention to the rapt faces of the throng, he grinned at Elfi. “But asLa Louve Blancheso wisely said, the Norns weave the threads of fate in most unexpected ways. Through sorrow and shadow, they brought justice for theShieldmaiden of Château Blancto honor her sacred vow. And in so doing, they exposed the perfidy of the Frankish crown.”
Jarl Rikard’s gaze turned sharp as steel.
“The Count of Soissons—vassal of the Frankish King Lothaire—spilled Norse blood, imprisoned Lord Thorfinn, and allied withDökkálfarsorcery to violate the peace treaty between Viking and Frank. His severed head will sail with me tol’ Île de la Citéin Paris. Hugh Capet and his council of clergy and nobles will behold this irrefutable proof that King Lothaire must be dethroned. The time has come to elect a monarch deserving of the West Frankish crown..”
