“Hello, Stepdaughter.” Irena’s words were spoken as if they had encountered each other on a warm summer stroll. “So nice to see you.”
Fljótdís opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out. She cleared her throat painfully. She had not spoken to another human being for a very long time. “What do you want?”
Irena put the torch in a holder on the wall and came closer. The silk of her scarlet dress rustled as she settled herself down in front of Fljótdís and looked into her eyes. She smoothed a damp strand of hair from her stepdaughter’s face with artificial concern.
“My poor child. Just look at you, rotting here in this stinking hole, all alone and forgotten.” She flicked a bit of mould from her skirt absently. “It seems that power and fame can be very fleeting.”
“What do you want, Irena?” She had no patience to play this woman’s game.
Irena stood up and gave the cell a revolted look. “I’ve brought you some wonderful news. You must congratulate me.”
Fljótdís looked closer. Irena was wearing a great gold and amber necklace. The spectacular centre stone burned fire red in the light of the torch. She knew this necklace. It had belonged to Astrid. No surprise that the King had not mourned for the wife he had murdered.
Irena adjusted the necklace with great ceremony. “We married three days after you were brought back here. Things had to be delayed while the executions were carried out, a necessary task to rid us of those unruly rioters. A mountain of heads. But after all, the King must maintain discipline and such behaviour cannot be tolerated.”
“How many?” Fljótdís felt sick to her stomach. More deaths because of her.
Irena shrugged. “Fifty, a hundred, what was the point of counting? They were worthless wretches and naturally their families had to be made examples of, the consequences of offending the King.”
She brushed the subject away with a wave of her hand. “The important thing is that we had such a glorious celebration for the wedding. You’ve never seen such bountiful food and drink! We even shared a bit of it with his most honoured warriors. A pity you missed it. But, then, it was not meant for you.”
Seeing Irena wearing Astrid’s necklace was an open insult to a woman who had been worth a hundred of Irena. Though she had nothing to her name but time, she had no time for her stepmother. Irena gave her a look that showed she was waiting for congratulations on her nuptials.
“You and that demented son-of-a-bitch make a perfect couple. I hope you both rot in Helheim.”
There was something dangerous in Irena’s eyes as she came closer and leaned down, face to face with her stepdaughter.
“No, my girl, you are the one who rots in Helheim, here and now in this festering hole. You should be thankful to me. If Harald had been given his way, he would have had you tortured every single moment of your miserable life here. There wouldn’t have been a single part of your body that would have been spared. You know how creative my dear Harald can be. Thanks to me, you have been kept here without anyone laying a finger on you. So show some respect.”
Fljótdís winced in disgust and looked Irena straight in the eye. “I owe you nothing, and I will give you nothing. You are a damned witch whore who has no sense of loyalty or honour. You’re just another filthy bitch for Harald to fuck.”
Irena slapped her hard, but Fljótdís only laughed. “You even hit like a bitch. I will never understand why my father wasted a moment on you.”
Her stepmother’s eyes narrowed as she regarded the winged tattoo on Fljótdís’ arm and a dark smile came to her lips. “Ah, yes, the Valkyrie fairy tale. Another of Gunnar’s lies to hide from you the fact that bitch of a mother of yours abandoned the two of you.”
This took her by surprise. “You lying whore! My mother died giving birth to me!”
Irena gave a derisive snort. “Did she? Ari knew the truth. You should have asked him about it. Although she had him bewitched, too. Your great Valkyrie mother was nothing but a bad joke. I don’t see her galloping down from the skies to help you now, sweetling. She never wanted you, never cared.
“Honestly, I had to admire her for having the good sense to leave. And I needed your father in order to get closer to the King, now, didn’t I? The King was my only real interest after all.
“But Ari’s dead now, isn’t he, so you’ll never hear the truth from him or your oafish father. Your mother was nothing but a cruel and selfish whore and you always were such a gullible little fool, always so sure you were special and favoured by the gods. Well, now you pay the price for your pride.”
Fljótdís trembled with anger. “There will be a price paid, Irena, but I’m not the one who will pay it.”
Irena rose and smoothed her dress, her gaze ice cold. “We shall see. Uthar!”
The door opened and a tall man came in. He was enormous and had to bend down to walk through the door. “Yes, my lady.”
Irena took a bundle from him and threw it at Fljótdís’ feet. “Tomorrow you’ll be taken to the Great Hall. The whole town will be there to decide your punishment. Be ready.”
Fljótdís looked at her without emotion, but beneath the surface, her heart was in chaos.
“Get dressed or I’ll have Uthar do it after he’s played with you for a while.” She dismissed the matter with a wave of her hand and walked out of the cell.
The guard still lingered, a lurid smile playing on his lips.
Fljótdís took the bundle and looked up at him with murder in her eyes. “Go.”
Her commanding tone swiped the smile off his lips and he turned around and left like a dumb animal, slamming and locking the heavy door behind him.
She couldn’t let Irena’s cruel words have any power over her. They were lies meant only to destroy her. But it was all too true that there was no one she could ask about these things. No one had ever given her real answers. Everyone who might have known the truth was gone. All she had now was her belief that her father would not have lied to her about this and the conviction that her mother had loved her and died for her as everyone else had. She had to cling to that. But floating around her heart now were the poisonous words of the Vǫlva.
Tomorrow it would end.
The King’s closest advisor was now a little man with a red beard and a bald head who looked nothing like a great warrior. He puffed up his chest, trying to look very important.
“Fljótdís Gunnarsdottir, you have been brought here today to decide your fate. You are accused of being a traitor with an intention to kill your King. What do you have to say to this? Do you deny your crimes?”
Fljótdís spoke loudly and clearly for everyone to hear.
“No.”
She had been forced to her knees. She didn’t mind since she didn’t have much strength to stand. Her hands were tied behind her back with a rough rope and she felt the blood flow down her fingers. They took great precautions to make sure she wouldn’t be able to fight if she decided to. But it wasn’t her intention. At this point, she had no intentions at all.
Everyone in the Hall had their opinion. Most of them thought she deserved death and weren’t afraid to express it aloud. Only when Harald stood up from his chair did everyone grow quiet.
He walked down and stopped in front of her. There was no pity in his eyes. He looked at the tunic that barely covered her bruised knees. The white wool made her black hair look like a dark waterfall, framing her alabaster face of a Valkyrie. But there was no pain in her eyes. All he was met with was cold nothing. She wasn’t broken as he hoped she would be and it aroused him. Right now, she was unable to fight and protect herself. And it made him want her to his core.
“My love?” Irena’s voice brought him back from his churning thoughts.
He looked over at the crowd, remembering their presence, and started to pace as he spoke.
“As you know, my people, this woman before you committed treason against me. She came here trying to take my head thus threatening to throw our Kingdom into a turmoil of murder and u
nrest. She tried to create a war for power among us. You all saw the deadly rioting done at her command. She not only tried to kill me but to kill all of us and to destroy everything we have worked so hard for all these years. She wanted to hand you a world of chaos and death, all to steal power for herself. She is a murderer, a thief, a liar and a traitor to all we hold dear.”
“Death to her!” One of the men shouted.
“She must die!” A woman from the back of the Hall agreed and her voice found many supporters. “Kill her and feed her to the wolves.”
Fljótdís couldn’t help but smile. How quickly everyone had come to hate her. It made her wonder what lies Irena and Harald had spread to turn the whole town against her. Or maybe the last loyal people had died there in the glade and there was no one else left to care.
“Please, my dear people…” Harald raised his hand to quiet the crowd. He stopped in front of Fljótdís again. “I understand your frustration. And yet, I am a fair and just man. I do know how to show mercy.” He folded his arms across his chest. His back was to the crowd now, and the dangerous smile on his lips was for her only.
“That’s why I’ll make you an offer, murderous traitor. I shall spare your life and let you spend the rest of your days in peaceful exile if you apologise for all the crimes you have committed and beg for forgiveness.”
Whether they hated her or were indifferent toward her, they all knew her reputation for courage. There was not a soul in the Great Hall who believed that she would accept his offer.
Harald’s face was now down next to hers and she spat straight in the eyes. That was her answer.
He lost his temper and hit her so hard that she barely kept the balance. He walked back up to his throne and sat down, wiping his eyes with a costly fox pelt.
“So be it. Free people of the Kingdom, if you are in favour of Fljótdís Gunnarsdottir’s execution, say ja.”
Everyone in the Great Hall agreed to her death without the smallest hesitation.
“Fljótdís Gunnarsdottir, you are sentenced to death. Your execution will take place on the fourth day after the Winter Solstice. Your King will decide the method of your death. Take her away.”
Chapter 26
She didn’t give a damn how many people wanted her dead. It didn’t make any difference, one or ten thousand, it was all the same. She was sure that most of those in the Hall were Harald’s cronies. Even the ones who had had any doubt would have been too afraid to go against the King. Everyone would do as their King said without protest. There was no one left alive to offer any alternatives.
She was glad that there had been no uncertainty or protest. She was sentenced to death which meant that wherever she went from here, it couldn’t get worse, even if she was fated for the Halls of Helheim. There would be no more suffering in this world.
The only thing that bothered her was the time of waiting. By her calculations, the Winter Solstice was still a few weeks away. Why not get it done now? Why wait? Why not simply execute her in front of the crowd as an entertainment? Prisoners were customarily executed the next day. What did Harald have on his mind?
The thought made her shiver as the cell door opened again. But this time it was not Irena or one of the guards. It was Harald. He had left his crown and fur capes behind and he stood in front of her in simple, yet well-sewn clothes.
He carried a worn bag made of coarse cloth with him. Was he going to torment her with a promise of food or dress her up like one of his slave whores? Or maybe he had brought tools with him this time. It didn’t matter. What more could he do to her but fuck her to death? But there was something very dark in his eyes as he looked down at her and she pulled her legs closer to her body out of protective reflex.
He noticed the move and gave her a satisfied smile. “I’m glad to see you have some respect for me now.” He set the bag at her feet. “There now, you see, I’ve brought you a gift, a thoughtful and personal token from your King and master, something I know you’ve been longing for.”
A terrible wave of dread and premonition seized her and she turned her head away.
He sat down next to her and regarded the bag thoughtfully. “Aren’t you the least bit curious? I mean, it is a royal gift, and I will be terribly offended if you don’t open it after all the trouble I went through to wrap it so beautifully.” He grabbed her hair and forced her to look at it. “Open it, whore.”
Her wrists were shackled and she couldn’t reach it, so he tossed it onto her lap.
“Open it or I’ll line the guards up and have them take turns fucking you for a week while I watch. I have a bit of time on my hands.”
She knew in her heart what it was now. But as she let the bag fall open, it still sent a shock wave through her. It was nothing that she hadn’t seen a thousand times, nothing that she hadn’t caused to happen a thousand times more. But this time, the head was Erik’s. She gagged and rolled sideways to be away from it. It was him, but it wasn’t him, and his face was a gruesome portrait of death.
Harold’s laughter rang off the walls as he picked the head up by the hair and set it upright, staring at her, just beyond her reach.
“There, you see, I knew you would love it. I’ll leave it here to keep you company so you can enjoy your lover’s foul-smelling grin in the dark. Maybe you’ll come to understand that since he no longer has a prick, he’s of no use to you.” He looked at the grotesque head. “But still as handsome as ever, wouldn’t you say?”
She clenched her fists, torn between unspeakable anger and overwhelming sadness. She had to kill this man. If she responded to this, if she showed her rage and loathing, he would only feed on it. It was tearing her apart, but she said nothing. She didn’t look at Erik. If she did, the tears would come and she couldn’t let that happen, not now.
Harald surveyed the dank and disgusting cell before returning his focus to her. “I feel that you are being treated far too well here. Your stepmother and I had quite a disagreement over how you should be handled. But I let her have her way. She thanked me generously for that gift.”
She couldn’t stay silent any longer. “I don’t give a gods damn what you or your bitch want.”
His laughter echoed harshly. “Irena is right. You are as spirited as on that first day you came to me to beg for my favours.”
“And I will regret that day till the end of time.” She tried to gain circulation in her hands in case she needed to protect herself, but they would not respond.
He noticed her actions and moved closer, leaning against her shoulder. “I don’t regret it. It gave me great pleasure to fuck you whenever it was my whim. Admit it, it was the pain that made you come beneath me for all the camp to hear. I must say, I am quite proud of that. Every man in the Kingdom wanted to fuck you into submission as the King did, to hear you cry out for more pain in the heat of your hunger for the King’s cock like the whore in heat we all know you to be. The mighty Commander, victorious leader of armies, nothing but a wet little cunt like all the rest. Things were really good for us. Perhaps if you had been more open to me...”
His hand now rested on her thigh. “Perhaps I would have made you my Queen. You would have sat where your stepmother sits now. I must say, she is a fine woman and her powers have been very useful to me, but she cannot compete with you. You are the kind of woman I wanted to share my lands and my bed with. A shame you had to be so stubborn.”
She had no idea where this conversation was leading, but she knew that she must remain cautious and be ready to fight.
“You see, I blame just one person for this.” He seemed amused as his hand slid higher up her thigh. “We were doing so well until that bastard Erik showed up.” He kicked the head across the cell.
His mention of Erik’s name set fire to her heart. It filled her with such anger that she felt her body ablaze with it. “Do not dare to speak his name.”
He laughed low in his throat. “Oh? Have I touched a nerve? Shall I bring him over so you can feel his icy kiss between your thighs? I
promise you, he’ll cooperate.”
The rage blinded her and she used all her strength to kick Harald in his face. But he was quicker. He grabbed her legs and moved in between. His right hand wrapped around her neck. His whole body pressed her against the wall robbing her of a chance to move or breathe.
“I like it when you get angry,” he whispered in her ear. “It arouses me. Maybe I should have you here and now after all for old times’ sake. I am your master and I will do with you whatever pleases me. And what pleases me is to hear you scream beneath me as I pound my cock against your heart.”
She had no chance to struggle. It felt like he was breaking every bone. There was no fighting the inevitable and she could only hope that it would be quick. But to her surprise, Harald did nothing. He eased his hold and she finally drew a sharp breath. He was breathing heavily.
“You have no idea what you are dealing with, Fljótdís. I have the power to crush you like a fly if I want to. And you can be sure that I will do it before you leave this world.”
He stood up and walked to the door. Uthar was already there. “I think she is getting lazy with all this time of leisure. You should give her a bit of exercise, using your famous skills, Uthar. My wife doesn’t need to know about it.”
He looked over his shoulder and gave Fljótdís a smile that promised pain. “Nothing where it will show too much. I have greater things coming for her.”
He walked out. Whatever torture she was about to endure, there was nothing that could break her even more.
Her body ached. She was left in the cell in complete darkness again. Her body was heavy and she felt sick. She vomited several times but her stomach was already empty. There was no food but a few scraps of old bread now and then and whenever the food was brought, she was forced to see Erik in the dim light of the torches.
Fljótdís- Daughter of the North Page 29