by Jody Hedlund
Books by Jody Hedlund
Young Adult: The Fairest Maidens Series
Beholden
Beguiled
Besotted
Young Adult: The Lost Princesses Series
Always: Prequel Novella
Evermore
Foremost
Hereafter
Young Adult: The Noble Knights Series
The Vow: Prequel Novella
An Uncertain Choice
A Daring Sacrifice
For Love & Honor
A Loyal Heart
A Worthy Rebel
The Bride Ships Series
A Reluctant Bride
The Runaway Bride
A Bride of Convenience
Almost a Bride
The Orphan Train Series
An Awakened Heart: A Novella
With You Always
Together Forever
Searching for You
The Beacons of Hope Series
Out of the Storm: A Novella
Love Unexpected
Hearts Made Whole
Undaunted Hope
Forever Safe
Never Forget
The Hearts of Faith Collection
The Preacher’s Bride
The Doctor’s Lady
Rebellious Heart
The Michigan Brides Collection
Unending Devotion
A Noble Groom
Captured by Love
Historical
Luther and Katharina
Newton & Polly
Beholden
Northern Lights Press
© 2020 Copyright
by Jody Hedlund
Jody Hedlund Kindle Edition
www.jodyhedlund.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.
Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
This is a work of historical reconstruction; the appearances of certain historical figures are accordingly inevitable. All other characters are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by Roseanna White Designs
Interior Map Design by Jenna Hedlund
Table of Contents
Half-Title
Books by Jody Hedlund
Title Page
Copyright Page
Map
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
About the Author
Young Adult Fiction from Jody Hedlund
More from Jody Hedlund
Chapter
1
Vilmar
I knelt before my father, King Christian. My two brothers did likewise on either side of me.
“The time for the Testing has come.” The king’s voice resounded through the great hall, which was filled to overflowing with nobility and commoners alike, vying to witness the fate of their princes.
“We are ready, Your Majesty,” I said in unison with my brothers, our heads bent low.
Though I spoke the words expected of me, a part of me questioned whether I needed the Royal Testing. After all, of the three of us, I already had the favor of the Lagting. In fact, ’twas no secret the king’s council would likely pick me to inherit the throne.
The clanking of a sword against Mikkel’s chain mail to my left signaled the beginning of the ritual. As firstborn, Mikkel had the privilege of going first in many things. But birth order was no guarantee of kingship. Not in Scania, where each prince had to prove himself through the Testing in order to be chosen as the successor.
I slid a glance sideways, catching sight of the gleaming weapon resting upon Mikkel’s shoulder. The sword was magnificent with its double-edged blade and the hilt inlaid with a striking zigzag pattern of silver and copper.
“After much forethought”—the king held the sword steady on Mikkel’s shoulder—“the Lagting has decided that you, Prince Mikkel, shall seek your Testing in Norland on the Isle of Outcasts.”
Norland? We had speculated for months where the Lagting would send us. We should have guessed they would choose the three countries on the Great Isle, since our mother, Queen Joanna, had hailed from there. As the youngest sister of Alfred the Peacemaker, one of the greatest kings the Great Isle had ever known, our mother often spoke of her homeland with fondness.
The king lifted the sword and touched Mikkel’s other shoulder. “You must seek to live out the ancient wisdom that says: Look on the heart.” The words were engraved with detailed craftsmanship into the sword’s blade and would serve as a reminder of the challenge Mikkel had been given. Of course, he must uncover the deeper meaning and how it pertained to him specifically. But that was all part of the Testing.
“I accept the Testing.” Mikkel’s solemn voice filled the silence. “And I shall endeavor to complete it with my body, soul, and spirit.”
King Christian removed the sword and stepped back. The bishop, with a dangling silver thurible, took his place in front of Mikkel and chanted the words of an ancient prayer. Smoky incense billowed from the thurible as the bishop swung it back and forth, letting the sweet waft of myrrh cover Mikkel and rise toward heaven.
My older brother would indeed need much prayer. The Isle of Outcasts was fraught with much danger from warring bands of criminals and misfits who lived there. I did not envy the place he must go.
“Rise, Prince Mikkel,” the king said once the prayer was complete. Mikkel stood and the sunlight streaming in from the high open window touched upon my brother’s fair hair, which he’d left unbound for the occasion. It hung just past his shoulders in gentle waves, freshly washed and well-groomed, with a single thin braid the only decoration.
I’d styled mine in a similar fashion. While Mikkel’s hair color was like golden barley, Kresten and I shared the same rich, earthy brown of a fallow field. Having slightly differing builds and brawn, we all bore our father’s blue eyes, rugged countenance, and broad frame.
I was not deaf to the flattery that flowed through the royal court regarding how handsome we three brothers were. Nor was I blind to the admiration bestowed upon us by many young maidens. And yet, as much as I thrived on such attention and had even relished the company of pretty damsels, I’d never pursued a serious relationship—not when the king and the Lagting were in the process of securing advantageous matches.
The time would be right for love and marriage once we’d passed the Testing and learned which of us would become the next king. Only then would Father and the Lagting finish making the arrangements.
As the king handed Mikkel his new, prized sword and then kissed both his cheeks, I braced myself for my commissioning. Where would the Lagting send me? And what would my challenge be?
Their private deliberations had been ongoing for months. And now that the spring thaw had melted the dangerous ice floes that wrecked many an unsuspecting fishing boat or merchant vessel, we could emerge from our winter hibernation. Mi
kkel, Kresten, and I would have no trouble traveling to any destination chosen for us.
The king took his place in front of me, and I bowed my head lower, paying this great man homage. He was indeed proof that the Testing served its purpose in showing which prince deserved the title and responsibility of being king of Scania. He and his brothers had gone through the Testing over twenty-five years ago, and the Lagting had chosen Christian as being most worthy of the kingship. Like me, he’d also been the middle of three sons.
The heavy weight of a blade descended upon my shoulder. At the contact of my new, coveted sword, I closed my eyes and whispered a prayer of my own—a prayer for blessing and success in the days to come.
“After much forethought”—the king repeated the words of the ritual—“the Lagting has decided that you, Prince Vilmar, will seek your Testing in Warwick in the mine pits of the Gemstone Mountains.”
The mine pits of the Gemstone Mountains. My mind spun with all I’d ever learned about the gem mines. Located in central Warwick, the Gemstone Mountain Range had been so named when emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and diamonds had been discovered there during the reign of King Alfred the Peacemaker.
The abundance of jewels had made Warwick a valuable and rich land, one King Alfred had bestowed upon Margery, the older of his twin daughters. He’d given Mercia to the other twin, Leandra, dividing the once-united Bryttania into two smaller kingdoms. The sisters had ruled their kingdoms peacefully for several years until Leandra died giving birth to her firstborn child, Aurora. Upon Leandra’s death, Margery had insisted that Mercia belonged to her, that she had more right to be queen there than Leandra’s babe. Margery wanted to reunite and rule all of Bryttania the way her father had.
Thus began many years of Queen Margery searching for the infant in order to kill her. If the rumors were true, Queen Margery hadn’t yet found Aurora, who’d lived in hiding all these years. While I was related to Queen Margery, since she was my mother’s niece, I’d never met her before, and after what I’d heard, I also had no desire for introductions.
My father lifted the sword from my left shoulder and brought it down onto my right. “You must seek to live out the ancient wisdom that says: Be slave of all.”
Slave? Indeed, indeed. Since I must journey into the mines of the Gemstone Mountains, it followed that I must learn to live as a slave. While most of the range had been cleared of gems long ago, apparently new jewels were still being discovered but were deeper and harder to excavate with every passing year. The work was so dangerous and difficult only slaves could be persuaded to go inside and retrieve the precious gems.
Certainly, no matter the difficulty, I could accomplish such a task for the six months the Testing required.
“I accept the Testing,” I said in a clear voice that projected to the people crowded into the great hall and rose into the high arched ceiling. “I shall endeavor to complete it with my body, soul, and spirit.”
The bishop took his turn praying and spreading the thurible’s fragrant incense over me. Then, upon my father’s command, I stood and received my new sword, reading the bold engraving on the blade: Be slave of all.
The king repeated the Testing commission for Kresten. All the while, from the corner of my eye, I assessed the stately group of men standing at the right hand of the king’s throne, attired in their long white robes trimmed with lynx and fox fur. The council was composed of officials who represented the thirteen most populated districts in Scania. Many of them were older than the king, having been chosen to be on the Lagting long ago in ceremonies similar to those required of the princes.
I’d known the council members my whole life, but only within recent years had I taken the time to seek them out individually and learn under them with the hope I would grow in my own wisdom.
Why had they chosen slavery for me? I guessed there was a profound purpose, that the meaning was just as cryptic as Mikkel’s engraving. Whatever the case, I vowed to complete my challenge to the best of my ability.
As Kresten received his Testing, I wasn’t surprised to discover he would have to go to the Great Isle too. He was tasked with living in Mercia’s Inglewood Forest as a woodcutter, and the engraving on his new sword stated: Deny Thyself.
After the last prayer of the ceremony, the gathering erupted into cheering and clapping. My brothers and I hugged and backslapped each other. Then we took our places at the head table with the king and queen for a final feast that would last well into the night, ushering in the first day of May. We would not get much sleep before our ship set sail for the Great Isle, but I didn’t mind. I would gladly relinquish slumber for the chance to say farewell to friends and have one last night of entertainment before the months of toil and deprivation.
After we finished eating, I pushed back from the head table and stood. “I would like to make a toast.” Empty platters and trenchers spread out before us, the mutton picked clean, the greasy bones all that remained of the meal.
I lifted my chalice of spiced mead. The laughter and talking tapered to silence, leaving only the crackling of the large hearth fire at the center of the hall. Though the room was dimly lit and hazy with smoke, I could still see the approval and love on the dozens of faces directed my way. Friends, fellow knights, and the most important men in the country. Already they saw me as their future ruler. The Testing would confirm it.
“My dear countrymen,” I said once all eyes were upon me. “On the eve of the Testing, we want you to know that we willingly go out into the world and place ourselves in the severest circumstances in order to prove our worthiness to you.”
I glanced to Mikkel on one side of me and Kresten on the other, and they both nodded their agreement. Mikkel’s features radiated somberness. As usual, he’d likely taken more time to ponder the dangers and difficulties we would encounter in the days to come. Kresten, on the other hand, boasted a wide grin, eager for the challenges and adventures.
While we three princes were decidedly distinct, we each shared many characteristics forged during the rigorous training and education we’d been given in our childhood and youth. Most importantly, the king and queen had instilled the value of our brotherly bonds, that our friendship with each other must supersede any claim for the throne.
In truth, I could say that even if I lost the Testing, I’d harbor no bitterness or ill will toward my brothers. While I might be disappointed in myself, I admired them and would serve underneath them if that’s what the Lagting decided. And they felt the same about me, although of late, I’d sensed more tension with Mikkel.
I lifted my chalice first toward Mikkel and then Kresten. “I wish the best for each of my brothers. May God grant you wisdom and strength in the days to come.”
They lifted their chalices in return before we sipped. Then I raised my cup toward my father and mother sitting at the center of the table. “I wish for the king and queen long life. May God grant you many more happy days.”
My father nodded his acceptance and my mother smiled, her eyes radiating her pride in my brothers and me. In her snow-white gown, with the traditional Scania headdress covering her long blond hair, Queen Joanna was exquisite. Crystal beads and jewels dangled from the circlet around her head and made a tinkling sound every time she turned. The Great Isle was known for its beautiful women, and she was no exception.
“Finally, to all the citizens of Scania.” I shifted my chalice toward the long room and the full tables. “We pledge our loyalty, our love, and our lives to you.”
After a chorus of affirmation, I drank from the cup and envisioned myself as king one day, standing in this spot in the great hall and drinking another toast to the peace and security of the country and people I cherished.
When the last of the guests had fallen asleep on benches or stretched out in the rushes on the floor, I allowed myself to rest for an hour before I rose and retired to my chamber. After grooming with the help of my manservant, I strapped on my new sword alongside my seax. The curved knife was my weapon of
choice, since I’d long ago perfected its use. While I’d have to leave my sword behind once I was bound as a slave in the mines, the seax I could easily sneak inside, concealing it in the hiding place in the thick sole of my boot.
Still sated from the feasting of the night, I didn’t waste time breaking my fast. Instead, I spent my last hour amongst my closest friends and servants, saying my farewells. As they accompanied me down the mountain, the light of dawn broke over the eastern crags. I drew in a deep breath of the frigid spring air thick with brine and allowed myself a moment to appreciate the landscape.
Bergenborg Castle had been built two centuries ago on the high bluff overlooking the fjord. Thus, it provided not only a strategic advantage against anyone daring enough to attack, but it afforded the most stunning view in all of Scania. The inlet’s deep-blue mouth was calm and glassy, reflecting the tall cliffs on either side. The recently thawed waterfalls on the north side cascaded down the steep rock face.
Towering in the distance beyond the cliffs, the mountain ranges were still covered in thick layers of snow and ice that would linger well into the summer, but whose runoff would eventually turn the rivers and fjords even clearer and bluer. The evergreens somehow managed to find places to grow here and there amongst the jutting rocks, with clumps of pine and spruce interspersed with scrub consisting of dwarf birch, juniper, and all varieties of willow bushes.
No doubt Mikkel had spent his last hour walking the trails that led out onto the cliffs. As I scanned the surrounding area, I half-expected to see him standing tall and proud on a nearby outcropping. But if he was out admiring the beauty of our homeland one last time, I didn’t see him.
Kresten, on the other hand, had already arrived at the waterfront. He stood on the wharf talking with several sailors, clearly eager to be on his way. If the weather cooperated, we would have several days and nights of hard rowing before we reached the Great Isle. If we were able to catch the wind, we might be able to raise our sails and make better time. But with the unpredictability of the East Sea during the spring, we could take no risks.