Shines upon the rightful brow.
Raise your horns, o sons of cliff and fjord,
For the Sea Wolf Völsung King!”
As thunderous applause and roaring howls mingled with the clang of swords on shields, Sigurd rose from his wolf and raven throne and raised his horn in tribute. “What is your name,skáld?”
“Hrólfr, my king.” The blond poet inclined his braided, inked head.
Sigurd glanced at Agnar, who grinned from ear to bearded ear. Gunnar and Högni raised their horns in praise. And from the riotous howls and roars from the cheering throng, the warriors in Bránnstaðrshöll heartily approved. “A fine song, Hrólfr. MySjórúlfarhowl your triumph.” He rumbled with laughter and reached into a velvet pouch at his belt, withdrawing a heavy, glittering arm ring.
The thick silver was etched with blackened runes and adorned with lapis lazuli gems threaded with gold that shimmered in the firelight. Sigurd descended the steps of the dais and approached the standingskáld, who humbly bowed his blond head. “This came from Fáfnir’s hoard,” Sigurd proclaimed, fitting the silver torc on Hrólfr’s brawny arm. “Accept it as a token of my gratitude—and acknowledgement of you as my royalskáld.” He faced the jubilant crowd, raised his elkhorn high, and roared, “All hail Hrólfr,Skáldof Sigurd Sea Wolf!”
Once again, the Great Hall of Bránnstaðrshöll erupted in thunderous applause.
Clutching his harp over his broad chest, Hrólfr bowed at the waist. When he spoke, his deep voice was thick with emotion. “By Odin, theSjórúlfar,and the Völsung blood of my king, I am honored beyond words.”
Sigurd gestured to an empty chair at the high table. “This seat is now yours. As my royalskáld,you shall henceforth dine beside your king.”
Hrólfr’s bearded blond face broke into an incredulous grin.
Motioning for the mead to flow and the music to resume, Sigurd led the warrior poet to his honored seat upon the dais. As the lively notes of lyres, lutes,tallharpas, and flutes floatedthrough the hall, Sigurd savored the sweet taste of triumph—and the thrill of destiny fulfilled.
* * * *
For the next half-moon, Sigurd remained in Lindesnes, asserting his rule and tending to the kingdom hisfaðirhad once commanded. Each dawn, he walked the cliffside battlements, inspecting the guards and ordering the fortifications strengthened. The newly trained Sea Wolves were granted plots of land along the fjord, where their longhouses would rise beside the stony shore, smoke curling from peaked roofs above blazing hearths.
Agnar returned to Bjarkhölm with his warriors and threedrakkar,promising to come if ever the Sea Wolf summoned the Bear.
Sigurd commissioned six new wolf sails for thedrakkarof Jarl Vísburr’s seized fleet. The women of Lindesnes would weave, wax, and paint the wool to match the deep blue sails and snarling wolf head sigil of Sigurd’s other ships. When he departed for Sjóborg, he would leave behind the six vessels gifted by Agnar and his owndrakkar, Úlfhrafn,as guardians of Lindesnes.
He would sailÚlfalkrto Hrafnfjall when he formally asked the Raven King for Brynhildr’s royal hand. Not only was it the ship Budli had gifted him as champion of the Sólhjarta Tournament, it also bore the triplebindrunethat Kveld Nightwolf had inscribed beneath the mast, binding Brynhildr and Sigurd to each other, the ship, and the sea. No other vessel would carry him to Hlymdalir to claim his beloved bride
Sigurd appointed Strykar the Beast as Jarl of Lindesnes in his absence, charged with overseeing the lands, maintaining order, and holding audiences for those who sought judgment or counsel. Strykar would supervise the building of new huts, longhouses, and workshops, and ensure the villages were wellsupplied until Sigurd and Brynhildr returned to rule as king and queen.
Each evening, as Sigurd feasted with Gunnar, Högni, and theSjórúlfar,,his court musicians played and Hrólfr filled Bránnstaðrshöll with skaldic song. Bonds were forged between Sea Wolves and the local warriors of Lindesnes, and by the fortnight’s end, the fortress hummed with life, the Völsung banners restored to their ancestral wind.
Now that his vengeance was complete and his birthright reclaimed, Sigurd was ready to return to Sjóborg.
He would deliver the fivedrakkargranted him by King Álfr and present Gunnar and Högni, hisbloodswornbrothers who would form a political alliance between Burgundy, Lindesnes, and Sjóborg.
But Sigurd was not only eager to see his royal parents and reunite with the wolf brothers of his Sjórúlfr pack.
His thoughts drifted northward.
To Regin’s mist-enshrouded waterfall cave.
To Fáfnir’s hidden treasure—and themundrbride price he would lay before the Raven King.
And to Brynhildr—his moonlit wife by sacred vow, the royal bride he would soon claim with gold and glory before kings, queens, and jarls.
Seated upon the wolf and raven carvedöndvegiin the Great Hall of Bránnstaðrshöll, the Völsung crown upon his Sea Wolf brow, Sigurd lifted his horn ofBilbermjödRoyal Mead and gazed into the firelight.
The fated path before him gleamed like Fáfnir’s gold.
* * * *
Sigurd stood at the deep blue dragon prow ofÚlfdreki,thedrakkarwarship his fosterfaðirKing Álfr had gifted him when he’d first become a Sea Wolf. The salty wind whipping over thefjord ruffled his blond braided beard and the blue-grey fur ofBlárúlfras the familiar shores ofSjóborgcame into view.
