Freyja’s voice interrupted her thoughts as they stopped at the stone cottage in the center of the three. “This is now yours.” Freyja opened the gold painted door. “Let’s carry your trunk inside, so you can get settled.”
Within the cozy stone cottage, a small bed covered with furs stood near a stone hearth. Beneath a nearby window, a wooden table and chair offered a magnificent view of the Mirrored Sea. On the wall near the entrance door, wooden shelves displayed an array of glittering gems, glistening crystals, brightly colored vials, and fragrant herbs, amidst silver charms and polished oval bones etched with blackened runes.
They set her trunk down on the wooden floor at the foot of her bed. “You’ll be able to practice yourseiðrlessons here,” Freyja said, running a slender hand across the smooth oak table. “And interpret runes.” She traced a fingertip over the engraved ivory bones on the shelf. “While you unpack, I’ll fetch Kára and Skögul. They live in the cottages on either side.”
From her wooden trunk, Brynhildr removed herFalkhjartagolden corslet and theFalkskjöldrshield studded with amber, unstrapping from her waist theSólfalkrsword with which she had disarmed Sigurd. As she held the golden blade embellished with amber gems and etched with glowing runes, theouroborosburned above her heavy heart.
You could have defeated me, my Sea Wolf. But you refused to strike me. Instead, you knelt at my feet. And put my glory before your own.
Tempered by sorrow which stole her breath and clenched her gut, the taste of triumph was bitter as bile. As she stood her sheathed sword in the corner by her bed, footsteps sounded at the entrance door.
“Brynhildr, I’d like you to meet Skögul and Kára, your Valkyrie sisters of theLaguzTriad.” Freyja entered the cottage with two women, each pulsing with latent power. One was young, lithe, and blonde, empathy shining in her smiling eyes The other was older and taller, her silvery hair braided with blue beads, her scarred face fierce, her warrior body sculpted with hard, lean muscle.
“Kára was avölvabefore rising as a Valkyrie,” Freyja informed Brynhildr, introducing the younger blonde. “She will teach you to read runes, develop inner sight… and wieldseiðrvision through the Mirrored Sea.”
“Welcome to theLaguzTriad, Brynhildr.” Kára kissed her cheek with a warm smile. “You’ll have lessons each day with yourmóðir,”she said, nodding respectfully to Freyja. “And practice them with me. When you are able to foresee the threads of fate and the hearts of men in the Mirrored Sea, then you shall be ready to ride to Midgard…and select the slain with Skögul and me.”
“Skögul was a ship commander,” Freyja told Brynhildr as she presented the silver-haired Valkyrie. “She will teach you to interpret battle strategies, warfare tactics, and predict outcomes of mortal combat by observing warriors, kings, and gods. You will learn how to judge worthy hearts and heroic deeds. And select the slain with your spear.”
Respect and recognition gleamed in Skögul’s fierce gaze. “You are the Sun Falcon Shieldmaiden,” she grunted, a crooked smile curving her scarred lips. “I shall enjoy training with you.” She gripped Brynhildr’s forearms in a gruff warrior’s welcome.
The tattoos of the wolf and falcon that Kveld Nightwolf inked into Brynhildr’s skin burned beneath Skögul’s firm grasp.
“I’ll leave you three to get acquainted,” Freyja announced cheerfully, heading toward the open door. She smiled over her shoulder at Brynhildr, the falcon feathers of her majestic cloakglowing golden and violet in the radiant light. “See you tonight atnáttmál.” With a whoosh of wings and a whisper of wind, her goddessmóðirwas gone.
“Let’s go to the mews, so you can meet our falcons.” Kára’s lyrical voice was fluid as a crystalline spring. “Each Valkyrie has a falcon—a spirit bird, bonded solely to her.” Pride shone in her pale blue eyes. “Vindr is mine—she’s a white gyrfalcon.” Her grin flicked toward the pale blonde Valkyrie. “Skögul’s peregrine is named Daga, because her feathers are tinged with violet light, like the dawn.” Kára smiled at Brynhildr, enthusiasm etched across her eager face. “One of the falcons will choose you.” she whispered, nearly breathless with wonder. “I cannot wait to see which one!”
* * * *
The mews which sheltered the falcons was open to the wind, its amber arches gilded beneath the sunlit sky. Inside, atop branches of smooth ashwood and yew, falcons perched at different levels, their intelligent eyes watchful as Kára and Skögul brought Brynhildr into their abode.
“The falcons return here to sleep,” Kára explained, as an enormous white falcon flew from its perch and settled on her outstretched hand. “But they are free to hunt in the forests or fish in the fjords.” She stroked the soft feathers of her falcon’s head. “Just as our horses are free to roam and graze where they wish.” Kára introduced her falcon to Brynhildr. “Meet Vindr—named for the wind. She and I are bonded, as all Valkyries are with their falcons.”
Skögul whistled a single note—like wind whispered over the sea. A majestic peregrine falcon with violet-tipped wings swooped down from a lofty perch onto the Valkyrie’s forearm. “This is Daga,” she said proudly, offering the raptor a morsel of meat which she withdrew from a pouch belted at her waist. “Named after the dawn.”
“They are both beautiful,” Brynhildr murmured with an admiring smile. As her gaze darted around the mews, she spotted a falcon whose tawny feathers glistened gold in the sunlight streaming though the open walls, with hints of deep blue like the sea. To her delight and astonishment, the bird emitted a sharp, piercing“Kee!”and swept from her perch to land on Brynhildr’s shoulder.
“That’s Gyllin, named for her golden feathers,” Kára told Brynhildr. “Hold out your finger for her to land on. If she chooses you, she will peck your skin and taste your blood.” Her hushed voice dropped to a whisper. “That’s how the bond is formed. Much like a blood oath in the human realm.”
When Brynhildr complied, Gyllin flapped her golden wings in excitement, settling onto Brynhildr’s extended finger with black talons edged in gold. Her eyes, dark as ancient amber, fixed on Brynhildr, as if searching her soul. With a swift strike of her hooked beak, she punctured the skin between finger and thumb.
A bright red droplet beaded above the wound.
Gyllin drank Brynhildr’s blood.
And seiðrspread through her Valkyrie veins.
“She is now bonded to your blood—and throughseiðr,to all who are blood-bound to you.” Skögul’s haunting voice echoed through the open walls. “Including yoursoulboundSea Wolf.”
At the mention of Sigurd’s name, Gyllin surged from the mews and soared into the sky, heading straight toward the Mirrored Sea.
“It seems she understands,” Skögul smirked, her scarred grin sharp as a jagged blade. “Come—let us glimpse him in Midgard.”
Heart pounding,seiðrthrumming, Brynhildr followed her Valkyrie sisters out into the golden summer sun.
“Valkyries select the slain by interpreting fate throughseiðr,”Kára explained as she and Skögul led Brynhildr down the grassy path from the clifftop to the pebbled shore of the Mirrored Sea. Sunlight danced on its still surface, smooth as polished silver, clear as glass. “The Laguz Triad readswyrdthrough water. And here, in the Mirrored Sea, we view the mortal realm.” Kára swept a pale hand toward the sheltered inlet surrounded on three sides by curved cliffs, with the fjord leading out to the open sea. “Kneel at the water’s edge,” she said softly. “Send yourseiðrinto the deep… and seek yoursoulboundSea Wolf.”
Brynhildr knelt on the shoreline. The hem of her blue gown darkened as gentle waves lapped against it, wetness and cold seeping through the silk and into her skin. Through theouroborosblazing above her left breast, she sent a surge ofseiðrinto the Mirrored Sea.
