“This is not your treacherous wife speaking, but your own daughter,” she had said. “You will kneel to me and to your grandson, your own flesh and blood. This strengthens the family’s power and keeps together the lands you have so honorably conquered.”
The negotiations between father and daughter had taken a whole day, but Sigrid did not back down. Her father was the one who had sold her to Erik to strengthen his ties to Svealand. Surely he could swallow the outcome of that decision like a man. Ulf stood firmly at her side, and in the end Toste consented.
“You’re still going to have to convince the other noblemen to agree.”
“With your support they will kneel to their king, Olaf,” Sigrid had replied, and she had been right.
She had been forced into a lot of flattery to win the noblemen over, and it had cost her quite a bit in gifts of silver, livestock, and land, but in the end they had all sworn their loyalty to her and Olaf.
She kissed the boy’s head and got up from the throne. The men stood and nodded their heads.
“I thank you all, respected countrymen and warriors. The privilege of serving you as queen, in the name of my husband and son, is the greatest honor that could befall a woman. I swear on my life that your land will be protected from this moment forward, defended by Vanadís.”
The chieftains raised their cups and proclaimed their loyalty.
“Leader of the Scylfings!”
“We serve you, Queen!”
Sigrid smiled at their professions of respect. The victory was sweet, like the sweetest wine, but it came with a bitter taste. Happy is the one, who receives praise and kind words; less certain is it to own something that dwells in the chest of another, Sigrid thought. They could turn against her at any time, but for the moment she held them all in her hand. And she knew all too well how she would ensnare them further.
“Tonight you will eat and drink, and tomorrow King Olaf will give you gifts to remember this day,” she proclaimed. This was met with the cheers she had anticipated.
Sigrid nodded to Åse, who stood behind her throne with Estrid in her arms, and then she left the formal hall, standing tall. Only one thing remained, the thing she had feared and longed for most.
The full moon bathed the autumnal fields in its cold light as Sigrid walked up her mother’s burial mound.
She brought the children with her, carried by her father’s mistress Åse and Soot, the slave who had served her so well in Svealand. They stepped aside when they reached her mother’s grave to give Sigrid some privacy. Only when she was completely alone with the little ones did she raise her eyes and greet Folkvang and the valkyries in the sky.
“These are my children, Olaf and Estrid, your descendants.”
She smiled as her mother stepped forth out of the shadows, airy like the mists in a field at dawn and just as beautiful as she had been in life.
“Our lives are your legacy,” Sigrid whispered.
Without her mother, she would have remained in the afterworld, wandering lost in Niflheim. Her mother had shown her the way back to life and given her the strength to fight for her own sake and for her children.
The evanescent shadow of the woman, who had once given birth to Sigrid, caressed the babies’ cheeks.
Sigrid closed her eyes and felt her mother’s hand on her own cheek, soft like a summer breeze. Thirstily she drank in her mother’s tenderness and let it heal a lifetime of missing her. Then her mother grew paler in the moonlight. Summoned back to the afterworld, she dissolved before Sigrid’s eyes.
Everything was as it should be. The family line was unbroken.
She smiled at Olaf in her arms, the king of kings, born to a glorious destiny. He was so like Sweyn that there was no doubt who his father was.
Day and night, Sweyn was with her. She saw him in the children that Vanadís had given them during the sacred sacrifice in Lejre. He was with her in the evenings when memories of the brief time they had shared together were so vivid that she could picture his face. My beloved.
Word had come from the south that Sweyn had defeated his father and been crowned king. He had achieved everything he had striven for. And so had she. Sigrid hugged the babies and felt the warmth from her precious darlings.
It felt like a lifetime had elapsed since she had stood on this burial mound, no more than a child herself, and received the greatest of promises from Vanadís. Now that she had traveled the world and down into the underworld, she knew what was real and what was woven from her own hopes and beliefs as a young girl.
“I still miss him,” she said.
Emma, always watching over them, emerged from the shadows and said, “Who knows what’s in the tapestry?”
“You know, my sister,” Sigrid said, smiling sadly.
Emma looked seriously at the babies.
“The darkness grows stronger. The battle isn’t over yet.”
Sigrid swallowed her fear as the shadows thickened around her. Nameless people, now passed on, stood beside Jorun and Alfhild. Even Gunlög could be seen at the back of the ranks. The valkyries sparked in the sky. A bird cried in warning from Sigrid’s moonlit fields, which spread as far as the eye could see, and beyond.
“With Vanadís’s help, you will protect us,” Sigrid said.
Her sister’s smile was inscrutable.
“Enjoy this peace. It will soon be over,” Emma said gently and then allowed herself to be swallowed by the darkness again.
Life was a circle without end. Sigrid took a deep breath. It would never end. She turned her back to the shadows and looked toward the estate.
Four times, enemies had tried to kill her. She had descended to the underworld, given birth during a raging war, and been slandered. Her honor had been violated, and people had tried to take what was hers. She had overcome all of this. She was mightier than ever and had been rewarded with the most precious of treasures.
Olaf slept soundly, breathing safely in her arm, and Estrid looked at her with her infinitely wise eyes. Her love for them was stronger than a thousand beasts of prey and stretched higher than the vault of heaven and deeper than the caves of Niflheim. There was no strength more awesome in these nine worlds, and not even death could overcome this, the greatest of Freya’s gifts.
Head held high, Sigrid left the past behind and walked down the side of the burial mound with her babies, back to the estate and the dark future that was hiding in what had been woven. Whatever it held, she would face it with strength.
“Don’t worry,” she told the babies. “Mama will protect you.”
APPENDIX
IMPORTANT PEOPLE
SKAGULHEIM
Skagul Toste—nobleman and chieftain of the Scylfing clan, father of Sigrid and Ulf
Sigrid—daughter of the Scylfing chieftain, Toste
Ulf—Sigrid’s older brother
Gunlög—Toste’s wife
Allvis—Sigrid’s paternal grandmother
Åse—Toste’s mistress
Rune—Toste’s brother
Ylva—Rune’s wife
Jorun—Sigrid’s cousin and maidservant
Alfhild—Sigrid’s kinswoman and maidservant
Allfrid—Sigrid’s mother
JÓMSBORG
Palna—chieftain of the Jómsvíkings, an elite force of mercenary soldiers, and Sweyn’s foster father
Sweyn—Harald Bluetooth’s illegitimate son, Palna’s foster son
Åke—Palna’s son and Sweyn’s foster brother
Ax-Wolf—legendary berserker
Gunnar—a Jómsvíking, Palna’s brother
Sigvard—a Jómsvíking, Ax-Wolf’s brother
Ingolf—one of Palna’s captains
Beyla—a seeress, Palna’s sister
Emma—an orphaned girl who is looked after by Beyla
Sleep-Åsa—Sweyn’s mother
LEJRE
Harald Gormsson, aka Harald Bluetooth—king of Denmark
Tova—Harald’s wife
Thyre—Harald’s daugh
ter
Styrbjörn the Strong—Thyre’s husband, nephew of Erik of Svealand
Erik, Haakon, and Torgny—Harald’s sons
Valdemar—Harald’s brother
Olav Tryggvason—warrior from Gardarik, the states of the Kievan Rus
AROS
Erik of Svealand—king and leader of the Svea
Haldis—Erik’s mother
Axel—Erik’s confidant and main military leader
Orm—Erik’s closest friend and a Svea warrior
Solveig—Axel’s wife
Aedis—one of Erik’s mistresses
Hyndla—Aedis’s mother, a seeress
Soot—Haldis’s slave
GLOSSARY
Æsir—one of the two main tribes of deities (cf. Vanir)
Brísingamen—a necklace belonging to Freya
Dag—god of day
Danelaw—the portion of England ruled by the Danes
dís (plural: dísir)—a goddess associated with fate, who sometimes intervenes in the lives of mortals and clans
ealdorman—the chief officer of a district
Eggthér—a giant who plays his harp as Ragnarök begins
Einherjar—people who have died in battle and have been brought to Valhalla by valkyries
Erce—an earth or fertility goddess (used chiefly as an interjection)
Folkvang—a meadow ruled by Freya where those who do not go to Valhalla go instead
Frey—god of virility and prosperity
Freya—goddess of love, sex, beauty, fertility, and gold
Garm—a wolf chained at the mouth of Gnipa Cave
Geats, the—a tribe living south of the Svea
Geatland—the south-central portion of modern Sweden, home to the Geats
Hati—the wolf that chases the moon across the sky
Hel—goddess of the underworld
Hidden, the—unseen spiritual realms
hird—a retinue of armed companions
housecarl—a royal bodyguard
hundred—a medieval unit of land
jarl—a Scandinavian nobleman ranking just below the king
Jómsborg—home to the Jómsvíkings, on the southern coast of the Baltic Sea
Jómsvíkings—brotherhood of Viking mercenaries
Kára—a valkyrie also referred to as the Wild Stormy One
lay—a narrative poem, ballad, or song
Loki—god of evil and mischief
Máni—personification of the moon
Mjölnir—Thor’s hammer
myling—a soul of a dead child who was not given a proper burial
Nátt—personification of night
Niflheim—the realm of the dead
Norns, the—the three goddesses of fate: Verdandi, Urd, and Skuld
Odin—the All-Father, king of the gods, god of wisdom
Ragnarök—aka the twilight of the gods, the final destruction of the universe after the war between the Æsir and Loki
Rán—a goddess associated with the sea who has nine daughters
Scania—the southern part of modern Sweden near Denmark
Sköll—the wolf that chases the sun across the sky
Sleipnir—Odin’s eight-legged horse
Sól—personification of the sun
Svea, the—a Scandinavian tribe, aka the Swedes
Svealand—the central, core region of modern Sweden
Thing—an early parliament
thingstead—the place where the Thing was held
Thor—god of thunder, protector of mankind
Valhalla—a great hall where warriors slain heroically in battle are received in the afterlife
valkyrie—a maiden of Odin who helps choose those fallen in battle to be taken to Valhalla
Vanadís—another name for Freya
Vanir—one of the two main tribes of deities (cf. Æsir)
Yggdrasil—the ash tree of life that binds the realm of the gods, the realm of men, and the underworld
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Johanne Hildebrandt is an award-winning war correspondent and author. Her breakthrough came with the bestselling trilogy Sagan om Valhalla (The Story of Valhalla) and her horror novel, Fördömd (The Condemned). In 2002, she was awarded the prestigious journalist award Guldspaden (“the Golden Shovel”) for her book Blackout, which describes her ten years as a Bosnian War correspondent. She was also nominated for the Grand Journalist Prize following her accounts of the war in Iraq. In 2012, she was elected a member of the Royal Swedish Academy of War Sciences and is the first woman admitted to the academy, which was founded in 1796. The Unbroken Line of the Moon is her first novel translated into English.
ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR
Photo © 2006 Libby Lewis
Tara Chace has translated more than twenty-five novels from Norwegian, Swedish, and Danish. Her most recent translations include Martin Jensen’s The King’s Hounds trilogy (Amazon Crossing, 2013–2015), Sven Nordqvist’s Pettson and Findus books (NorthSouth, 2014–2016), and Jo Nesbø’s Doctor Proctor’s Fart Powder series (Aladdin, 2010–2014).
An avid reader and language learner, Chace earned her PhD in Scandinavian Languages and Literature from the University of Washington in 2003. She enjoys translating books for adults and children. She lives in Seattle with her family and their black lab, Zephyr.
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