by Elena May
“A high birch rose inside the tent, and tied to it with heavy iron chains was a young man. Stripped of his clothes, his abdomen covered in deep scars, he looked barely able to stand. The man looked familiar, and as I took a closer look, I remembered where I had seen him. He was a priest we had imprisoned on one of the raids. My companions and I had planned to feed on him and others like him.
“He looked up at me, his blue eyes wide, wild, and feverish.
“‘Save me,’ he cried in West Saxon. ‘Save my soul. He turned me into a demon, an abomination.’
“I dropped my sword to the ground. ‘Who is he?’ I asked in the same language.
“‘The devil with a face of an angel,’ he said. ‘He will take me to hell with him, and we will burn together forever.’
“I knew only one devil, and indeed he had an angel’s face. I walked to the man, grabbed his brown hair and yanked his head backwards. He screamed, his open mouth revealing sharp fangs. The tent wasn’t there to hide him from prying eyes. It was there to protect him from the sun.
“‘Lucien made you a vampire,’ I said. ‘Why?’ I pressed against his scars, and he pulled away. ‘Did he do this to you?’
“The man shivered. ‘He bit me. He made me drink his unholy blood. I died and woke again, as a demon of the night.’ Tears surfaced in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. ‘He cut me. He pulled out my kidneys. My liver. He said he wanted to find out if I would recover completely.’ He started to shake violently. ‘How could I recover? He destroyed me. He killed my soul.’
“‘Then let me save you,’ I said and sank my teeth deep into his exposed neck. I drank him to the last drop, until he was completely limp and supported only by the chains. I broke off a branch from the birch and ran it through his heart.
“I left the tent and walked to the shelter where my companions awaited me. When I told Lucien what I had done, he rolled his eyes.
“‘Vladimir, you are a barbarian with no appreciation for knowledge,’ he said. ‘You have wasted a week’s worth of experiments.’
“‘The moment you turned this man into a vampire, he became one of our own,’ I said. ‘You cannot torment our people.’
“‘And why not?’ Lucien asked. ‘How else would we learn? So many questions are burning inside my mind, and I need to know the answers. What are our strengths and weaknesses? What is the source of our abilities? What are the limits of our immortality? And, most important, why?’
“I grabbed the front of his tunic and pulled him close. ‘And you think you will learn these answers by cutting vampires open?’
“He gave me a lazy grin and made no move to free himself from my grip. ‘Of course. Aristotle says we can use induction to discover universal truths through individual observations. I stake a vampire’s heart, and he dies. Therefore, vampires die when staked. I remove a vampire’s liver, and he lives. Therefore, vampires can live without a liver. And while most of the time, Aristotle simply observed the world around him without changing it, he was not above cutting things open. Such as the time when he found a fertilized hen’s egg and opened it to see the heart.’
“‘A hen’s egg?’ I released his tunic and took a step back. ‘You can’t compare a vampire to an egg.’
“‘The principle is exactly the same.’ Lucien dusted his tunic, his green eyes never leaving mine. ‘But while the inductive method helps us find these universal truths, it is not enough to fully understand their meaning. Why is a vampire’s life locked in the heart? Can we strip out all else and still live forever? Why does blood feed our strength? Aristotle proposes deductive reasoning to deepen our knowledge, and this is where the philosophers come in.’
“‘So, you are a philosopher now?’ I said.
“‘I am everything.’ Lucien raised his hands towards the sky and started rotating in a circle as he spoke. ‘A philosopher. A scholar. A student. A discoverer—’
“‘A madman,’ I added.
“‘Stop bickering like children,’ Callisto said. She was sitting on a rock in front of our shelter, braiding her hair and not sparing a single look at us. ‘I have some news to share.’
“That got our attention, and she continued, ‘I have spoken with Björn. The festival at the Temple at Uppsala is next year. It is an enormous event taking place every nine years. Vikings from all parts of Svealand, Götaland, Norway, and Denmark travel there for the festivities. Björn doesn’t want to go in shame. He needs to avenge his father before the festival and go as a victor.’
“Excitement surged through my chest. All the small raids had been wondrous, but I had been waiting for something bigger. ‘The battle with King Ælla is coming?’ I asked.
“Callisto nodded. ‘Preparations are already underway. Björn has sent messengers to his mother, to his father’s former wife, and to all his brothers and sisters. His father was a legend. Vikings from far away will sail here to join the fight to avenge him. And we will join too, as we promised. My love, we are about to witness history.’
“I smiled though my heart twisted painfully. I would never again be satisfied to witness history. Would I ever be allowed to make it?
“A few weeks passed, and the big night approached. Fires burned all along the Danish shore, and I stood there with Hilde by my side, watching as the longships arrived. Vikings from every part of Scandinavia walked up the shore, and Hilde whispered in my ear everyone’s name and story. I was seeing living legends, but I was never allowed to be one.
“A ship set anchor, and the first Viking to set foot ashore was a middle-aged woman. Silver mixed with the gold in her long, loose hair, but she walked with a straight back and her gait was firm. A scar ran along her cheek, and two fingers of her left hand had been cut off. When Björn’s Vikings saw her, they moved to make a path for her and bowed.
“Close to her legs walked nine large cats. One was pitch black and had striking bright orange eyes. Two were snow-white, one blue-eyed, and the other had one vivid blue eye and one pale yellow. The other six cats were light grey.
“Hilde moved closer to me. ‘This is the shieldmaiden Lagertha,’ she said, her voice a mere whisper in the wind. ‘She was a legendary warrior princess in Norway. The Swedish hero Ragnar Lodbrok, Björn’s father, was impressed and proposed a marriage. Lagertha pretended to consider it, but when Ragnar went to her home, she set a bear and a hound upon him. He killed the bear with a spear and choked the hound with his bare hands. Only then did Lagertha agree to marry him, and they had two daughters and a son before they divorced.’
“I listened, amazed. ‘Why would such a legendary couple part ways?’
“‘Ragnar wanted to marry the noblewoman Thora Borgarhjört, and he slew a serpent to win her hand. When she died of illness, he married Björn’s mother, Queen Aslaug, who impressed him with her wit. Yet, although he knew of her wisdom, he still made the grave mistake of not listening to her.’
“‘How so?’
“‘Aslaug is a sorceress,’ Hilde whispered in my ear. ‘She foretold that they had to wait three days before consummating their marriage. But Ragnar was too impatient and refused to wait, and so the gods cursed them.’
“I shuddered. ‘Cursed them? How?’
“Hilde tilted her head to the side, her cold blue eye staring at me. ‘More Vikings are still arriving from distant lands. Perhaps you will see it with your own eyes soon.’
“I had to wait only two nights before I learned what Hilde had been talking about. Another longship arrived, and, as every other night, we stood on the shore, watching. A few men came ashore, but none seemed to be a leader. And then appeared a device I had never seen before.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Boneless
“Four large muscular men walked cautiously, carrying a chair attached to two long wooden planks. On the chair was a thin, short man, sitting slouched with his hands in his lap and his fingers bent at odd angles. His long golden hair had been bleached a paler shade with lye and braided in the Viking warrior-style. The dark war
paint on his gaunt face made his sea-blue eyes stand out.
“‘The gods cursed Ragnar and Aslaug for their impatience,’ Hilde said. ‘They gave them a son with no bones.’
“‘No bones?’ I whispered, horrified. ‘How can a man have no bones?’
“‘When Ivar bends his arms and legs, they bend too much, as if there is no bone inside,’ she said. ‘He is in constant pain and cannot stand on his own.’
“‘And yet, he is a leader?’
“‘He is a son of Ragnar Lodbrok,’ she said. ‘If he had been the son of a fisherman, he might have been left to die in the woods as a baby. But Ivar received this chance, and he made the best of it.’
“Hilde’s words haunted me all throughout the evening feast. As I ate a baked seagull, I felt eyes upon me. I looked up and saw Ivar staring right at me with those piercing dark blue eyes. He smiled and nodded at me, and a shiver ran down my spine. A servant approached him and held a horn of mead to his lips, tilting it slowly up so his master could drink. I returned to my own mead and took a slow sip. His eyes had unsettled me in a way that confused me.
“All this talk of gods, sorcerers, prophecies, and curses—was any of it true? The Vikings worshipped their gods and deities with such fervor that I had never seen anything like it. All the sacrifices I had made to Tangra paled in comparison.
“Hilde approached me, grinning, with a curved horn in her hand. She sat on the ground next to me and whispered, so softly that if Callisto and Lucien had been human, they would not have heard a word. ‘Interesting development, my mysterious stranger,’ she said. ‘Ivar wishes to speak with you, and with you alone.’
“I nearly dropped my horn. ‘Why? What does he know about me?’
“She shrugged. ‘He kept asking me questions about you and your companions. I told him almost nothing, but I think he knew enough from my silence. Here is the arrangement—his men will lead you to a private place in the woods. They will then carry him there and leave you two alone to speak. Come, I will show you to his men.’
“My breath caught in my throat. ‘Now?’ I could feel Callisto’s questioning gaze on my back, but there was no explanation I could give her.
“‘Yes, now.’
“‘And if I refuse?’
“Hilde laughed. ‘I would strongly advise against it.’
“Curiosity got the better of me, and I followed her to Ivar’s servant, who then led me to a secluded place deep in the woods. I looked around in the complete darkness that only my eyes could pierce. Ivar would come here and meet me alone, and he was not afraid?
“After a few minutes, Ivar’s servants arrived, carrying his chair. They placed him close to me, secured two torches on the ground next to us, and silently left.
“The light of the flames played on his skeletal face and his long, braided blond hair. He sat in his chair, stunted and shriveled, and completely helpless, and yet his blue eyes were bright and piercing. ‘I’ve been curious about you, Vladimir,’ he said, and his voice was strong and clear. ‘Here you are, a stranger to our lands, and yet you raid and dine with my brother. What can you offer my people, and what do you ask in return?’
“‘If you have talked to your brother, you know that I ask for nothing but a chance to fight your enemies,’ I said.
“‘Why?’ he said, and his eyes seemed to see right through me. ‘What do you gain from this?’
“What could I tell him? I settled for the truth, or at least parts of it. ‘My own people couldn’t withstand Christianity,’ I said. ‘My culture was lost. I want to help those still holding on to their beliefs and traditions.’
“‘Very well,’ he said. ‘But what do you offer us in return?’
“‘My skills as a warrior,’ I said.
“He twitched in his chair and moved, as if trying to find a more comfortable position. His face twisted. I moved forward to help, but he raised his palm to halt me. ‘You are but one man,’ he said. ‘Together with your companions—three. We have gathered thousands to avenge my father. Why should we need you? Why should we accept ragtag strangers into our ranks? You need us, Vladimir. You need us to have a purpose in your life and to channel your revenge. But do we need you?’
“His eyes never left mine as he spoke. I could have broken his neck with a flick of my fingers. He couldn’t defend himself. He couldn’t even stand from his chair. And yet, there was no trace of fear on his face.
“‘My companions and I are very skilled,’ I said.
“He snorted. ‘Indeed. But I need more than three very skilled warriors. King Ælla murdered my father. He threw him into a pit of vipers and watched him die. I need this revenge.’ With visible effort, he interlaced his twisted fingers in his lap and looked up, his eyes bright as if burning with fever. ‘And I need you to be more than a skilled fighter. I need you to fight with my people and to hold nothing back.’
“‘I never hold back,’ I said, though it was a lie. I had so far fought with human strength, but I was very tempted to change that. ‘I will do all in my power to help you avenge your father.’
“He smiled. ‘That is good to hear. Then I have one more request of you. I am tired of sharing the rule with my brothers. I need a kingdom of my own, and I have set my eyes on York. Once we kill King Ælla, it will be ours for the taking, and Björn will claim it for himself. I will challenge him, and I want you on my side.’
“‘And why would I do that?’ I asked. ‘Björn is my friend. I have joined him on many raids, and he has my loyalty.’
“‘Of course,’ Ivar said. ‘I understand completely. Loyalty is a quality I value above all else. I am happy my brother has your friendship. I hope we can also be friends one day.’
“I frowned. This change of heart was way too sudden. ‘I hope so, too.’
“His smile grew brighter. ‘Tell me, my friend, where do you come from?’
“I had decided to be truthful with him. ‘I come from the southeast, from…’ The words caught in my throat. The Bulgar Khaganate no longer existed. What was my birthland called now? ‘From the Bulgarian Tsardom.’ The Slavic word for ‘empire’ burned on my tongue, leaving behind a taste of rot and wrongness. ‘It is—’
“‘North of Byzantium.’ Ivar’s blue eyes narrowed, almost disappearing into the black paint that outlined them. ‘I’m well aware. Some of my people have raided the shores of the Black Sea and have told me tales. Yet, one of your companions is Greek, and the other is Frankish. Perhaps one day you will humor me with the tale of how you met each other. Until then…’ He placed his hands on the armrests and squeezed as tightly as his deformed fingers allowed. ‘Until then, all I can say is, I admire you. Here you are, fighting to preserve our culture and lamenting the loss of yours, when your own land converted to Christianity three decades ago. You must have been a small child. I’m impressed you still remember and value your old beliefs so much.’
“I froze. He knew too much. How did he know so much? ‘When our ruler adopted Christianity, he killed my parents,’ I said. ‘It is something I cannot forget.’
“‘So heartbreaking,’ he said, his voice sad and sympathetic. ‘And you must have been so young. Who raised you?’
“‘My uncle,’ I said.
“His smile morphed into something sinister. ‘Your story becomes more and more fascinating with every word you say. I have heard your ruler killed everyone who rose in rebellion, including their entire families. Yet, your parents were killed, but your uncle spared. How is it possible?’
“I had been a fool. I could have come up with thousands of more plausible stories about my past and motivation, but I had not bothered. I had blurted out the first answers that had come to my mind, not caring about the holes all over my tale. I had underestimated this man—this boy—who had grown up in a chair in a society which valued physical strength above all else.
“‘My uncle was a strong supporter of the Christianization,’ I said. ‘This is why he and his family were spared.’
“‘And you were s
pared too, the child of traitors?’ he said, his voice sweet. ‘And you grew up in a family that supported Christianity, but you yearn for your old beliefs?’ He dropped his smile. ‘Vladimir, I believe we got off on the wrong foot. Let us start over. I will challenge Björn on who takes York, and you will take my side. In return, I will not tell anyone what you and your companions are.’”
Chapter Forty-Five
Gift
“I did my best to keep my face blank. ‘And what would that be?’
“‘I have a friend of your kind.’ Ivar raised his shriveled hand to his collar. He pulled down his tunic, revealing two thin puncture wounds, the blood on top barely dry. ‘Tell me, do you always drink your victims to the last drop? It doesn’t have to be this way. You can take only a small sip, and the experience can be pleasurable for both. Because of my condition, I cannot find pleasure with a woman or a man, but I can find it with a vampire.’
“I stared at him, at this powerless boy decades younger than me, who had played with me like a cat with a mouse.
“‘I could kill you,’ I said.
“‘Of course you could,’ he said. ‘But everyone knows I am here with you. They will know you did it. They cannot hurt you, but you will be unable to raid with my people again. You will need to leave.’
“He was right about everything. ‘Very well,’ I said. ‘Suppose I wish to help you. How? I have no influence over your brother.’
“His smile returned. ‘I’m sure you’ll think of something. You need to learn to influence people if you are to survive through the many centuries that await you.’
“I did need to learn. And right now, this boy wielded this skill far better than I did. ‘Why me?’ I asked. ‘Why didn’t you speak to Callisto? She is the leader of our company.’
“‘You are the youngest, and that makes us closest in age,’ he said and winked at me, probably guessing what I was thinking. ‘You wonder how I know that? You are obviously the most human. As the years pass, you will forget what it’s like to be human. You will forget what it’s like to be alive.’ His face grew serious. ‘Don’t. Remember today and what you thought and felt. Remember all you went through as a human. Relive it every night in your mind and heart and don’t let it fade away. This will anchor you to this world. Never let it go, or you will never find your way back.’