“That’s a promise.” Skjöld kissed her again and swung his legs over the side of the wooden bed piled with smooth blankets and soft furs. He stood, washed in the basin, then dumped the wastewater out the window into the sea below the cliff. While Skadi slipped into thegarderobe—the narrow closet with a bench and a hole through which waste dropped into the waves far below—Skjöld refilled the basin with fresh water from the pitcher for her to wash before donning her gown.
When they were both dressed, they strode down the dim hall where beeswax candles cast a soft glow and sweet scent from metal sconces mounted on the wooden walls. Descending the steps from the upper floor of the castle, they crossed the wide vestibule at the base of the stairwell and entered the bustling Great Hall.
Skårde greeted them with a hearty grin, ushering Skjöld and Skadi to sit with him, Ylva, and Vivi.
“Jarl Rikard and Lord Thorfinn have rescheduled our war council meeting for tomorrow morning,” Skårde informed them as Skjöld settled Skadi onto the bench next to Ylva. “They took Elfi and Njörd tola Tour d’ Écume—the Sea Foam Tower which is their wedding gift to the Sea Wolves.” Skårde chuckled at the name as he took his seat beside Vivi. “Though Njörd and Elfi will one day inheritChâteau Blanc, Jarl Rikard is appointing Njördle Come d’ Aval—the Count of Aval, charged with defending the westernmost gate of Étretat.”
When hisMamannoted the glittering amethyst and aquamarine gems in the rings which had been her wedding gift to them, Ylva smiled at Skjöld, contentment glowing in her bright blue gaze.
“Which means that we have time for yourMamanand me to present our wedding gift to Skadi and you.” Skårde grinned again. “Finish your barley porridge and lingonberries. We’ll sail the new ship your uncle Sweyn gifted you. And letHrímdrekitaste the salty winds as we sail east toSaint-Valéry-en-Caux.”
An hour later, Skjöld stood at the helm behind thefrostdragonprow of his newdrakkarwarship. Skadi stood proudly at his side, the westerly wind whipping her long blonde hair like a glorious Valkyrie in flight. The crew of twenty oarsmen glided them across the Narrow Sea, and soon, the sheltered inlet of a seaport came into view.
High above the longships beached along the rocky shore, Skjöld glimpsed a silvery castle perched atop the sea-swept cliff.
Le Château d’Argent—the Silver Castle gifted to them by Ylva andSkårde—gleamed like a legend from skaldic song.
Built of pale granite, the castle’s towering walls shimmered in the midday sun, their silvery sheen reflecting both sea and sky. Slate rooftops crowned its towers and turrets, the lustrous grey stone glittering likefrostdragonscales. Wooden shutters and carved beams had been painted a soft silver, and atop the ramparts, deep purple banners emblazoned with a silver dragon snapped in the wind like Skadi’s frosted wings in flight.
“Asle Comte de Saint-Valéry-en-Caux,you will defend this strategic harbor and the alabaster coast of Normandy—betweenle Château Blancof Étretat and my castle ofChâteaufortin Dieppe.” Skårde grinned as realization dawned in Skjöld’s stunned expression. “Já,” Skårde rumbled with laughter, “Jarl Rikard is naming you Count of this entire coast. And I am giving youle Château d’ Argent--the Silver Castle ofSaint-Valéry-en-Caux.”
They beachedHrímdrekion the rocky shoreline, climbing the grassy path which led to the snow-covered meadow at the top of the cliff. At the sight of Skårde—theDragon of Normandyand Count of thePays de Caux—the armored guards lowered their weapons, nodded respectfully, and stepped aside so that they could enter the enormous double wooden doors which had been painted a frosted silver.
“The castle faces north, to the Narrow Sea,” Skårde explained, as he led them through the entrance and gave them a tour of the fortress which would be their new home in Normandy. “LikeChâteaufortandChâteau Blanc, the Great Hall, kitchens, storage, and servant quarters are here on the ground floor, with bedchambers on the second and third levels.” He gestured to the large windows overlooking the sea. “Four defense towers, connected by stone curtain walls and an enclosed central courtyard.” He smiled at Skadi. “AsComtesse de Saint-Valéry-en-Caux,you may host feasts fit for a king.”
“We now have three homes,” Skadi whispered into his ear as she hugged Skjöld’s arm in elated delight. “We can live here, inle Château d’ Argent, on the alabaster coast of Normandy.” She swirled in a circle, her deep blue gown flowing like waves of theNarrow Sea as she spun in sheer delight in the large chamber that would serve as their bedroom. “We have a moonstone cottage on Lyrian Lake inÁlfheim…” She approached him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her soft lips to his, sending a jolt of desire straight to his loins, despite the wondrous morning they had spent together. “And we can live on the island ofAustvågoyin northern Norway, close to the portal ofJótunheimand theDragon’s Leapcave.”
Tears streamed down her luminous cheeks, her pale blue eyes sparkling like stars. “I am so happy, my heart might burst. After so much pain…losing myfaðir…it is wonderful to feel joy once again.”
“I love you, Skadi. And I want to spend the rest of my life bringing you joy.” Skjöld cradled his beloved bride over his fiercely loyal heart. He kissed her soft blonde hair and whispered, “Come, we must sail back toChâteau Blanc.There’s another wedding feast tonight.”
Dashing the tears from her smiling cheeks, Skadi nodded and hooked her arm in his. “And tomorrow night—we feast inÁlfheim.I can’t wait for you to taste the frosted starfruit. From our very own trees.”
* * * *
Lively notes from lyres and lutes floated in the festive air of the Great Hall, its tall pine walls adorned with freshhelléboreblossoms and white mistletoe berries, the floral fragrance mingling with the crisp scent of juniper from the crackling flames in the enormous stone hearth. Though King Sweyn, Queen Íssla, Jarl Rikard, and Lord Thorfinn sat in the same seats of honor at the high table, tonight Skadi and Skjöld sat near Elfi and Njörd, and Luna and Njáll, feasting on grilled haddock, steamed scallops, and fire-roasted lobster served with melted butter. An elated Elfi was describing the joint wedding gift she and Njörd had received from herfaðirand the Norman duke.
“La Tour d’ Écume—the Sea Foam Tower—stands atop the white chalk cliff at the westernmost point of Étretat. Nearla Porte d’ Aval,which the Norse callAegir’s Gate.The sea portal to the underwater realm between worlds.” Elfi’ssea goddess eyesglittered like green-blue gems. “The perfect dwelling for the Sea Wolves of Étretat!”She laughed and leaned against Njörd’s broad chest. The white wolfskin draped over his dark, braided hair glowed in the firelight.
Luna’s pale hair glimmered like ivory silk, cascading over her shoulder to her waist as she leaned forward to speak to Elfi. “Will you give birth in yourfaðir’scastle?”
“Nei,”Elfi shook her head and smiled at Njörd. “Now that we have a fortress of our own, I would like our child—thethrice-blessed daughter of the Wolf of the Nordic SeasandLa Louve Blanche—to be born inla Tour d’ Écume,the clifftop towernear the Sea Gods’ gate. The perfect place for the daughter of two white sea wolves to enter the world.”
Njörd lifted Elfi’s hand to his bearded lips and pressed a soft kiss on her pale skin. Fierce love blazed in his lupine gaze.
“When will your babe be born?” Skadi sipped mead from her silver goblet and set it back upon the table.
Elfi’s joyful expression suddenly turned solemn, her voice a barely audible whisper. “On the vernal equinox.” Dread dimmed her bright gaze as her eyes darted from Skadi to Skjöld, then to Luna and Njáll, before finally resting on her husband. “When Njörd is off to war…”
Skadi hid her discomfort and glanced at Luna. “Will you be Elfi’s midwife?”
Elfi answered before Luna could speak. “Úlvhild will be here by then.” She smiled nervously at Skjöld. “You and Skadi are returning to theDragon’s Leapcave after the wedding feasts are over. Please tell her I need her to deliver my daughter. I don’t trust anyone but her.”
“Haldor said that she would ready to sail south to Normandy in the spring.” Skjöld squeezed Elfi’s hand reassuringly. “We’re all sailing home together. I’ll make sure we arrive in time.”
Elfi blinked back tears and nodded bravely, her lower lip trembling. “Thank you, Skjöld. I cannot wait until she is here.”
“I plan to go with Njáll to Noyon.”
