For all of Heimdall’s faults, his male presence had kept the ravens and snakes away. She’d chosen a grown man and a seasoned warrior to be her husband, not a child prince who had lost everything.
It had been the wisest choice.
Now, it was her turn to face Agnar, but, unlike Heimdall, she had nothing to apologise for.
He had norightto her throne!
Chapter Two
After Nattmal, Skadi took Astra on a procession along the battlements, the full moon and torches lighting their way in the dark. The late autumn sun had only just slipped beneath the horizon and, as Skadi listened to the crashing of waves, she wondered what would await them at daybreak.
King Sven would arrive, or Agnar would attack. Both possibilities worried her, although for different reasons.
Greeting the fighting men and shieldmaidens along the battlements served to reassure her daughter that they were well defended. But their presence also encouraged morale among the warriors—proving to them that the royal family was strong and faithful. Skadi had planned many offerings to the gods to win their favour, placing each offering at several points along the battlements. She had always appreciated tradition and ceremony, it gave her people pride in their home and in her.
Astra walked and greeted the warriors with more confidence than Skadi would have had at her age. No mother could have been prouder than she was of Astra that night.
Her daughter was the perfect Princess, wearing a snow-white-and-silver-embroidered apron dress, as well as a blue cloak trimmed with snowy owl feathers. It was pinned to her shoulders with large silver turtle brooches and she even had a ceremonial curved dagger strapped to her belt. Skadi had dressed her in the outfit of a queen, while she wore her armour ready for battle, their silver crowns glinting in the firelight. Her father’s old crown was attached to her helm, the other a pretty circlet she had worn herself as a child.
Astra walked with her back straight and smiled innocently at the people as she passed, carrying the holy flame reverently from the shrine, through the town and up along the battlements. Carefully lighting each offering after her mother’s prayers were said.
Each offering had been placed along the battlements, representing a God or Goddess.Astra will make a strong and benevolent queen one day.It was Skadi’s job to ensure that she did.
As they came to the final offering, the wind picked up, whipping back Astra’s hair and cloak. But the Princess quickly shielded the flickering flame with her spare hand to stop it from being blown out. Despite her young age, she realised that it would be a bad omen if the flame were to be extinguished before lighting the last of the effigies. She wore leather mittens to protect her hands, so at least there was no danger of her burning herself on the oil lamp.
Skadi stepped forward and raised up the carved effigy, made of pine and dressed in a woollen gown with a necklace of seashells and branded runes. The doll depicted Rán, the Goddess of the sea. It was clear who she was by her hair, which was woven into a long net—Rán used it to pull souls down into her kingdom.
Drowning was one of the few deaths Norse men feared, because it lacked glory and meant a watery afterlife surrounded by monsters. But Rán was also very important, because they depended on her calm seas for trade and raiding.
Her effigy had been placed at the last turret between the mountain, the hall and the rocky shoreline. It was where the natural landscape protected them the most from attack. No ship could land here, the whirlpools and rocks were too dangerous. The mountain cliffs too sheer and treacherous to climb.
Skadi lifted the effigy up to face east. ‘Goddess Rán, with this offering, we call upon you and your nine daughters to protect us in our time of need. Raise your waters, ready your net and drown our enemy! Ensure that our island is safe from usurpers.’
As Skadi lowered the effigy into the logs of the brazier the wind howled up and over the battlements. For the first time, Astra looked frightened and she cupped her mitten even closer around the flame as it spluttered and flickered for a second time.
‘Come, Astra,’ Skadi said firmly and her daughter obeyed, covering the flame right up until it caught on the net of Rán’s straw hair. Relief washed over Astra’s face as she stepped back. But then another gust of wind rushed over them, causing the young flames around the Goddess’s head to be snuffed out.
Before the crowd had time to realise what had happened. Skadi snatched the oil lamp from her daughter, not caring when the hot oil splashed on to her bare hands. In one quick motion, she threw the entirety of it including the pottery dish on to the brazier. The effigy was immediately consumed in oil and flame.
The crowd below roared with approval. ‘No one saw,’ reassured Skadi quietly and the men around them wisely looked away.
Wrapping an arm around Astra’s trembling shoulders, she turned them back towards the crowd. ‘My people, rest and hold your loved ones close. Warriors, you know your duty—watch the seas carefully and be prepared. Our enemy is coming and we will be ready for them!’
The crowd answered with another cheer, their loyalty unwavering.
‘My family has ruled this island for as long as there has been a Thrudheim. We will not lose it now!’
Shouts of agreement rose to greet her and she smiled. Turning to Oddmund, she announced, ‘I will take the Princess to bed and then I will join you for the second watch.’
Oddmund nodded and she took Astra’s hand and helped guide her down the stairs. Brenna awaited them at the bottom and they made slow progress through the crowd back to the hall, as many of her people stopped to offer words of loyalty and comfort. Some even touched her cloak or Astra’s hair for luck.
Skadi thanked them all by name—she knew her people well and was glad to have their support.
Back at the hall, they swept through the main chamber with its many lamps and braziers, the protective runes carved into the walls and pillars flickering in the candlelight, alive with magic. A few of the servants were still clearing up the evening meal and preparing the main hall for the guards and servants who slept there. They walked towards the back of the cavernous room, past the trough of flames from the central fire, followed by the raised dais that held the two carved thrones of Thrudheim.
The huge carved stone chairs were cold and uncomfortable to sit on without plenty of furs and embroidered cushions. She smiled as she remembered her sweet and long-dead father once saying,No crown is comfortable to bear…especially on the bottom.
In the chambers beyond, she passed her daughter’s room, as well as Brenna’s, then her own.
