When Sigurd rose to his feet, Budli took the smaller silver coronet and turned toward Brynhildr.
Her falcon heart fluttered like Gyllin’s golden wings.
“This is the crown of Lindesnes, worn by Sigurd’smðdirHjördis and before her, hisammaSvanhildr, the first of the Völsung queens. Kneel, beloveddóttir, that I may place it upon your royal head.”
Brynhildr carefully removed her silverkransen, woven with ivy and wild roses, and reverently handed the bridal headpiece to Yrsa. Thevölva’sbeaming, woad-painted face was blue as the sparkling fjord. Brynhildr knelt before her royalfaðir,his coppery hair and russet beard aflame in the summer solstice sun.
He solemnly placed the slender wolf and raven circlet upon her bowed head, his deep bellow booming over the gathered throng. “I hereby crown you, Brynhildr Budladóttir, the Völsung Queen of Lindesnes.”
Sigurd helped her rise, lifting her hand to his blond bristled lips. His deep blue eyes danced like waves on the dappled sea.
Álfr unsheathed his sword and placed it over his heart, blade upright. With his left hand, he touched theÚlfblóðrwolf head hilt of Sigurd’s reforged sword,Gramr.His majestic voice was triumphant, clear, and proud. “By the wolf blood in this blade and the honor of my royal house…before gods and gathered kings, I swear the alliance of Sjóborg to the Kingdom of Lindesnes, and my loyalty to King Sigurd Sea Wolf and the Sun Falcon Queen Brynhildr.”
After King Álfr returned his sword to its scabbard, Budli withdrew his blade,Hrafntönn. Placing the Raventooth sword over his fierce Viking redbeard heart, he swore the alliance of Hrafnfjall to Lindesnes and its newly crowned Völsung king and queen.
Brown bearskin gleaming in the sunlight like the bronze crown atop his thick dark hair, Agnar was the next king to swear the alliance of Bjarkhölm to Lindesnes, and his sovereign loyalty to its king and queen.
King Eirikr stepped away from hisdóttirDagny’s side to vow the alliance of the kingdom of Ryfylke to Lindesnes and its Völsung king and queen.
Brynhildr’s breath caught at the sight of the ochre-faced, crimson-hairedvölvastanding near King Rögnvaldr of Rauðvik, who had gifted Sigurd the magnificent wolf spear which he had hurled at the Sólhjarta Tournament to win that competitive event. Like the kings before him, Rögnvaldr withdrew his royal blade, touched theÚlfblóðrwolf head hilt of Sigurd’s sword, and declared his kingdom a staunch ally to the King and Queen of Lindesnes.
King Yngvi of Romsdal and King Jormundr of Vestmorkr were the last of the royals to bind their realms in alliance with Lindesnes, followed by Jarl Hróald of Bjørndal, Jarl Siggtryg of Ørnesund, and the remaining noble lords—the same chieftains who had come bearing gifts when Sigurd first became a Sea Wolf.
Black cloak draped across broad shoulders like the outstretched wings of his kingdom’s heraldic bird, the Raven King of Hrafnfjall bellowed across the shimmering fjord. “Nine kings and jarls have sworn alliance with King Sigurd and Queen Bynhildr of Lindesnes. All hail the Völsung king and queen!”
Amid the blast of horns, the howls of theSjórúlfar,and thunderous cheers from the jubilant throng, Budli boomed above the raucous din. “Follow me to the Great Hall of Hrafnfjall! And let the feast begin!”
Chapter 30
King and Queen of Lindesnes
As wedding guests filed into the Great Hall amidst lively melodies from lyres and lutes, Sigurd sat at the high table beside Budli and Brynhildr, reflecting how the Norns had tightly interwoven the intricate threads of fate.
In the hidden Dwarven forge,Gramrhad been reborn withÚlfblóðr’swolf head hilt. Wielding the reforged blade, Sigurd had slain Fáfnir and seized the dragon’s hoard of treasure. He’d avenged hisfaðir,reclaimed the Völsung crown, and had saved Brynhildr from theRing of Fireand Odin’s frozen curse. And now, at long last, she was here beside him, his beloved bride and crowned queen. As their eyes met and he lifted her pale hand to his lips, theouroborosabove his Sea Wolf heart blazed withdragonfire.
Seated with them on the elevated royal dais were Agnar, Yrsa, and Kveld. At Budli’s left, Princess Dagny took her place, with Álfr and Hjördis completing the nine honored guests. On the pinewood floor below, the visiting jarls, kings, and thevölvaEldsjá gathered at a royal table, ready to present gifts to the bride and groom. Across the central hearth where flames flickered like molten gold, threeskáldsprepared to sing songs they had composed for the royal wedding. At a nearby elegant table, the Christian priest and his two acolytes exchanged uneasy glances, clearly unaccustomed to a Norse feast of roaring warriors and jubilant kings. Wolfskins glinting in the firelight,theSjórúlfarwere assembled at a table of honor with thegoðiand his two acolytes, while Tryggvi, Hálfdan, Ulric Ironshield, and the high-rankinghúskarlartook their seats among warriors and wives, eager for the feast to begin.
Budli rose from his raven-carvedöndvegi, the beads in his braided russet beard gleaming like the gems in his crown. At the rustle of his black cloak, unfurling like raven wings, a hush swept across the rapt crowd. His deep, rich voice rolled over the throng like rumbled thunder.
“Raise your horns high, wedding guests of Hrafnfjall! Today we honor not only the bride and groom, but the bonds of blood, honor, and valor. To Sigurd Sea Wolf, Dragonslayer King, and my Sun FalcondóttirBrynhildr, Dragonslayer’s Valkyrie and Völsung Queen. All hail the newly crowned rulers of Lindesnes! May their reign be long, their courage fierce, and their love endure beyond fate and flame!”
As riotous cheers rose to the rafters, Budli lifted his horn of golden mead, and the hall drank to the royal couple. When the crowd quieted, the Raven King continued. “And now, before we feast in joy and celebration, let the visiting kings and jarls present their gifts to King Sigurd and Queen Brynhildr, to honor their new bonds of fealty to Lindesnes!”
One by one, the nine kings and jarls approached the royal dais in turn, offering gifts of jeweled swords and shields, fine tapestries, intricately carved ivory, exotic spices, silks, and furs, each symbolizing their loyalty and respect for Sigurd and Brynhildr as the newly crowned rulers of Lindesnes.
Budli offered a pair of ornate silver and gold drinking horns, each engraved with the snarling wolf with sapphire eyes and pair of ravens with amber orbs, the Völsung sigils of Lindesnes. King Álfr and Queen Hjördis offered a trunk of finely crafted garments for Sigurd, and a wooden chest of elegant silk and embroidered woolen gowns for Brynhildr.
“Fitting attire for king and queen.” Álfr flashed Sigurd a wolfish grin.
Agnar offered them each a gold arm ring to match his own, engraved with the images of a bear, wolf, and falcon. “To symbolize the three of us… bound by blood, breath, and blade.” His deep, rough voice rumbled with raw emotion.
Kveld offered an emerald talisman pendant suspended from a black leather cord. The silver casing which enclosed the faceted gem was inscribed with the same trio of runes—Geibo,Raido, andKaun—as the triplebindrunehe’d carved onÚlfalkr’sdeck, upon the shore beneath Brynhildr’s tower, and inside Sigurd’s wedding band. “For yourdóttirÁslaug,” he murmured with reverence and respect. “To protect her with the sameseiðrthat binds your two souls.” The Nightwolf’s deep voice was rich and mellow as a lute when he spoke to Brynhildr. “Wear it now, to guard the babe in your womb. When Áslaug becomes a maiden, and herseiðrspirit awakens to the wisdom of her wolf, falcon, and dragon blood, the emerald talisman shall pass to her.”
Yrsa, the last to present a royal gift, rose from her seat beside Brynhildr and lifted the emerald talisman Kveld had placed upon the high table. Thevölva’sdeep blue face, painted with black runes, glistened in the golden light of the midnight sun streaming through the narrow windows. She cradled the pendant between her inked hands, whispering words of enchantment that Sigurd could not comprehend. Firelight shimmered in the deep green stone as the hall fell strangely still.
At last she placed the charm in Brynhildr’s hand. “For Áslaug,” thevölvamurmured softly. “May Freyja guard her granddaughter’s fated path.”
As tears of gratitude welled in Brynhildr’s blue-green eyes, Sigurd secured the black leather cord behind her neck. The large oval faceted stone glittered like the emerald eyes of the dragon in the wedding ring upon her hand.
