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The Last Viking Queen

Page 4

by Taylor, Janelle


  Even if Gavin was angry for a while and refused to obey her wishes, their destinies were entwined. The only way to have him and victory was to do as the Runes commanded. Perhaps this battle was necessary to settle their differences and to bind them together for all time. Surely for the good of the many, she could endure a brief separation and quarrel with her beloved.

  Once more she rode to the secret cave to speak with Trosdan, to discover him still absent. He had given her advice and warnings, but the decision was hers, and she had made it. No matter Gavin’s objections, she was going to accompany her warriors!

  It was midafternoon when a rider galloped into the inner ward and dismounted. After handing his reins to a stableboy, he headed for the main section of the castle. Alysa leaned out her window to watch him, but did not call down to him. She smiled as she saw him take the steps two by two and vanish inside the Great Hall beneath her chambers. Quickly she checked her appearance and hurried to meet him.

  Lord Weylin, Gavin’s closest friend, grinned broadly as he embraced Alysa affectionately. His black hair was damp from his swift ride and the sun’s heat. Moist wisps clung to his forehead and mischievously curled here and there. His warm brown eyes were filled with vitality and intrigue as he asked, “Where is everyone? I came as quickly as I could.”

  “Gavin and the others are scouting the area. They should return at mealtime. Come, sit, and I will have ale brought to refresh you.”

  Alysa gave her command to the servant who had appeared upon Weylin’s arrival. As they seated themselves, Alysa noted how Weylin’s sand-colored tunic did not conceal his muscular build, a virile physique which reached six feet two inches. He was a handsome man, one who ensnared women’s eyes and passions. They had met while defeating Isobail and had worked together many times. Of all her husband’s friends, she liked and trusted Weylin best. “Tell me how things go at your new home.”

  “The people work hard and have been loyal to me. It is a beautiful estate, Alysa, and I am proud to run it. Already it is like home to me. Trahern’s widow does not seem to mind my presence there, though I see little of her. Unless I summon her, Lady Kordel keeps to her tower even at mealtimes. She is a shy creature and fears others will blame her for her husband’s wickedness.”

  “It was kind of you to allow Lady Kordel to remain in her home. You have a generous heart and nature, Weylin, and I am most grateful you are one of my retainers. I hope you will be with us a long time.”

  “My father is young and vital. It will be many years before I am called upon to take over his estate in Cumbria.”

  Alysa teased, “That was not my concern, dear friend. I feared you might find homelife boring and wish to return to your carefree ways.”

  Weylin chuckled. “I have been a warrior and adventurer for many of my twenty-eight years. I have seen many sights and fought many battles. It is good to settle down and relax, especially on such a lovely domain and as a feudal lord. This is a new challenge for me, one I shall not fail in. There is much to do and I stay very busy. Worry not, Your Highness, for I am most content and loyal.”

  Probing cleverly for information, Alysa hinted, “I wish it were so for Gavin. I fear he is restless these days. He rides out at dawn and returns at dusk, only to eat and sleep so he can do so again the next day. He neglects to tell me of his actions and plans, leaving me to worry until his safe return. How can I get to know my husband when he is so secretive and distant? Perhaps he only avoids me because he is angry with me.”

  Weylin knew of Gavin’s love and desire for this enchanting woman, and he was baffled by her grave tone and expression. How could any man, particularly his closest friend, do anything to distress this unique female, to cause her to doubt his love and commitment? Weylin was concerned over the sadness he detected, and more so over the anger and confusion he sensed below her placid surface. As the husband of Princess Alysa Malvern and the joint ruler of this domain, how could Gavin be unhappy and restless, especially so soon after winning them both? It was unlike his friend to be unkind and moody. “Angry with you? How can such be true?” the valiant knight inquired.

  Alysa wanted to discover Weylin’s feelings on certain matters before he had the chance to speak with her husband. She explained her position, including Trosdan’s premonitions, and revealed the disagreement with Gavin. “He forgets I am Damnonia’s ruler and have need to know his actions. You have seen me in the jaws of peril. Am I not able to defend myself and others?”

  “I have seen few fighters better skilled than you,” he replied honestly. “I know little of magic and mysteries, but I cannot deny their existence. I have witnessed things which cannot be explained by mortal man. To dismiss that which we do not understand is rash. I cannot say if the Druid’s words are true or if he is a master of the unknown, but you must do your duty for your people. I am a man, and I have no objection to riding behind or beside you into battle. You have proven you have cunning and valor. I am honored to serve you.”

  “Gavin does not agree with us, Weylin. He will be displeased that you side with me,” she warned.

  Weylin had observed ill feelings in the villages and towns, in the commoners and highborns and soldiers. He had overheard gossip on his estate, even though his vassals and serfs appeared to like and accept him as one of the “foreigners” who were “taking o’er our land.” If discord was to be prevented in this land and with his wife, Gavin had to deal with his personal feelings; and he would tell his friend when Gavin returned home. Another precaution had to be taken soon: Damnonians had to be found and trained to take control of the powerful and prosperous positions which he and his fellow Cumbrians now held.

  “It is not that I side with you or against him; I must do what I think is right. In this matter, it is right for you to lead your subjects. Some of your new vassals are from other lands, and many of your people are jealous and discontent. If they are to band together during this dangerous time and fight with all their might, they must see the heir of Alric and Bardwyn standing before them. When we aided your cause before, it was as a separate band and mostly in secret. This time, we will be riding with Damnonians. For the good and safety of all, it is best if the true Damnonian ruler is in charge.”

  A happy smile brightened Alysa’s face, then it faded. “Why cannot Gavin understand and accept this grim matter as you do? It troubles me deeply to see his mind closed and his heart chilled to me.”

  Weylin realized it was vital that Gavin have his eyes opened to realities which his friend was ignoring. “I will tell Gavin I will ride with you to guard your life. If you agree to stay back out of danger, he should be appeased. We can tell the others that our group rides as reinforcements, that we stay behind to prevent our foe from guessing our strength, and that we guard their rear or flank. This way, you will be present and giving commands, but remain at a safe distance. We cannot allow you to be injured or slain, or your people will lose heart. Gavin loves you and worries over your safety. He knows what it is like to fight a fierce battle with blood-crazed enemies. Once he masters this unfamiliar fear, he will accept your responsibility and rank.”

  “Will he, Weylin?” she asked doubtfully.

  Three

  Gavin and his men arrived at the castle late and weary. Alysa had already retired to their chambers, but Weylin was awaiting him in the Great Hall. The six friends greeted one another and chatted for a while. As ordered by the princess, servants were prepared to serve Gavin’s group a hot meal upon their return.

  Gavin said, “The others should arrive tomorrow for our meeting. This will be a harder battle than we have fought before because these foes number many and are consumed with evil and greed. The worshipers of Odin have no fear of dying, which makes them dangerous and strong. They can show no weakness or dishonor before their gods and followers, nor any mercy. They live for glory in battle and for the riches of plunder. People fear them, with just cause. Yet fear slows a warrior’s hands and wits. We must seek early victories to give the people courage, to gi
ve them hope for the dark days ahead.”

  Lann, Tragan, Dal, and Bevan nodded agreement. Weylin asked, “How do you plan to obtain these crucial victories?”

  “We must locate their camps and strike each band separately. That is the best way to weaken their strength and to prevent them from joining forces. If we can attack at night while they are sleeping, our task will be easier. I have spies seeking their locations, and lookouts posted along the coast. The moment our invaders are sighted, we will be warned. The lords have been ordered to ready their men, and the knights and soldiers are prepared to move instantly. We must waste no time or energy before repelling them.”

  The men talked a while longer before all departed except Gavin and Weylin, who asked, “What of Princess Alysa? Why do you exclude her from these preparations?”

  “War is a man’s affair and duty, Weylin,” Gavin replied oddly.

  Weylin added, “And the affair and duty of a ruler.”

  Gavin studied his best friend closely and curiously. “What has she said to you?” he asked, a glint of suspicion in his green eyes.

  Weylin watched those green eyes widen, then narrow, as he related his talk with Alysa. “You are a ruler here by marriage only, my friend. If you take control and push her aside, trouble could sprout.”

  Gavin came back at him almost coldly, “And Alysa could be slain or wounded. She is not a soldier, Weylin; she is a woman, a gentle and fragile creature. We have battled Norsemen in the past; you know their strengths and ways. There is another threat to my wife in this matter,” Gavin began nervously as he revealed the Norsemen’s desire for the Last Viking Queen. “They will do anything to capture her. The man who does so will become king and leader of all Vikings, a force no land could challenge and defeat. She carries the last royal blood and, by the rule of Odin, must be accepted as queen. Once she is in their possession, we will be unable to rescue her. She must be kept far away from the invaders and that peril.”

  Weylin told him, “You should explain your fears and love to her. She is doubtful and distressed.”

  Gavin sighed in fatigue. “If I do so, she will view them as signs of weakness and will press her reckless desires with me. Even if I must hold her captive here, I cannot let her ride with us.”

  “Her people will not stand for such treatment. Let her go. I will keep her behind with me. I will guard her from all perils.”

  “If she is sighted by the enemy and your group is attacked, how then will you protect her, my friend, if you are slain?”

  “If the invaders get through you and your line of defense, will it matter if she is here or elsewhere? Let her do what she must.”

  “I beg you, Weylin, do not speak in her favor tomorrow. If it is her destiny to die on the battlefield, do not let it be because you placed her there. This much I ask of you.”

  Gavin looked down at his sleeping wife. He was tempted to awaken her, to try once more to persuade her against her wild idea. Dreading another quarrel when he was so exhausted, he did not. If only he could believe she. was destined to be a great warrior queen … If only he could believe that Trosdan had the power to protect her from all harm … If only he did not love her and fear losing her.

  During his scouting ventures yesterday and today, he had tried to locate the old wizard. Either the man was hiding or was away. He wanted to convince Trosdan not to imperil Alysa by filling her head with reckless dreams and a misguided sense of duty to her people. The Druid’s words had begun this conflict between them, and it was too late for him to halt it.” The strategy meeting would be held tomorrow, and all he could hope for was that Alysa would change her mind before that hour. If the lords and knights spoke against her going, surely she would not insist. If they did not, how could he stop her?

  Alysa met privately with Sir Teague the next morning. She placed him in charge of Malvern Castle and all business while they were gone. She explained it had nothing to do with doubting his fighting skills or courage, or with his recent defeat. “I need someone whom I trust above others, dear Teague, someone who knows how to keep things running wisely and smoothly, someone whom the people like and trust. Most of your life has been spent here with me, so you know what is to be done. The people love you and will obey you. Will you stay here and defend the royal lands for me?”

  The redhead knew his friend and ruler was being honest with him. “Thisbe and I will remain here and guard these lands with our lives.”

  Alysa embraced him with affection and gratitude. “Say nothing to the others, even to Gavin, until I have revealed my plans.”

  Alysa and Gavin sat upon the dais in the Great Hall. Before them were their vassals, the lords and knights of Damnonia. Alysa listened silently and attentively as the conference continued for large-scale, long-range strategy to ensure their survival and victory. Tactics for their first battle were planned, as were defense lines. Men, supplies, and weapons were discussed by the vassals providing them.

  During the ardent deliberations, Gavin stood and paced to burn off his excessive tension. He called Sir Beag forward to give his report. The castle knight and temporary spy related news of a Viking camp which had been set up a day’s ride from the castle, a camp which looked as if it were waiting to be enlarged before raiding the area.

  Gavin ordered fervidly, “Alert all soldiers. We must strike at them before others land. We will leave at dawn and camp in Trill’s Glen. On the next sun, we will attack and destroy them.”

  Alysa rose gracefully and approached the edge of the dais. All lips fell silent and all eyes focused on her. She had dressed carefully and cleverly for this moment. To stress her rank, upon her head she wore a golden crown with sparkling jewels. She was attired in a flowing dark-blue gown which made her eyes appear as two glimmering sapphires. A golden chain hung low on her hips and dangled down the front of her dress. A matching one around her neck held a golden medallion displaying the royal crest of Damnonia’s ruler. Her expression was a mixture of serenity and power. A regal aura surrounded her.

  Her voice was calm and stirring as she spoke. “There are dark days ahead for us, my people. We must be strong and cunning. We must not lose hope or yield to fear. We are a victorious people. Do not forget we recently destroyed those who threatened our lives and lands. We will do so again.”

  Alysa looked at each man as she called his name and made her remarks. “Sir Dal, our sheriff, should remain in this area to prevent common outlaws from creating havoc while we are distracted by foes and battles. Lord Keegan is a powerful and clever warrior. He should return to Land’s End to guard against invasion there. All men in that area should report any news to him and he shall be empowered to act upon it. Sir Teague is to remain at Malvern Castle to protect it from any foes and problems. I will allow Lord Orin and Lord Fergus to decide if they can serve us better on their coastal estates or on the battlefield. If we are to hold our people’s unity, all must work hard and where best suited. We shall divide our men into two groups,” she informed them, then explained the plan Weylin had suggested to her. “Prince Gavin will lead the assault with group one and I will remain with group two. We will join the battle only if necessary. That way, if any foe escapes, he cannot report our strength to others. Sir Beag and Lord Weylin will travel with me as my guards and advisers. I have ordered a great feast for tonight so we can summon our strength before a good night’s rest. At dawn we will ride to our glorious destiny.”

  Lord Keegan and Sheriff Dal, Gavin’s friends from Cumbria, nodded acceptance of her commands. Keegan had arrived shortly before the meeting and had not spoken with Gavin. He assumed this order was given with the prince’s agreement. As for Dal, he could not argue the woman’s wise words about being needed here to control law and order.

  Orin and Fergus, Damnonian noblemen and feudal lords, both concluded aloud it would be best if they retained control over their areas. The other knights were happy to see their ruler in command of this situation, and no one protested Alysa’s intentions and orders. They were awed b
y her beauty and confidence, and impressed by her manner.

  Observing the effect of his wife’s cunning words and daring deed, Gavin knew it was unwise to verbally battle her in public. To do so would cause the discord which Weylin had warned him about last night. No one questioned her plans or looked amused. No one appeared displeased, or afraid to follow her anywhere. He had lost this personal battle, and silently prayed he would lose nothing more.

  The castle servants excelled at preparing the food that night. The mood was one of excitement and anticipation, of expectant victory. Minstrels entertained during and after the meal. Visitor chambers and hallways were filled with guests and pallets. The evening passed quickly and soon all were sent their separate ways.

  Alysa dressed for bed and joined Gavin in their chambers. For the first time, she felt ill at ease with her husband. She did not know what to say or how to behave toward him tonight. Obviously he felt the same way because he busied himself with his weapons and chores.

  She slipped between the covers and reclined, her somber, gaze locked on Gavin’s broad back. She watched the muscles move in his shoulders and arms as he went about his work silently. His body was without excess fat and displayed a bronze covering which teased at her senses. She wanted to be in those strong arms, to taste those sweet lips, to enjoy his touch. Her eyes wandered over his dark-blond hair and she wondered what he was thinking. They drifted over his virile body and wondered what it was feeling. She hated this new and unusual chill in the air.

  Gavin rubbed the greasy rag up and down his blade, conditioning and polishing it for the upcoming battle. When he was finished, he slid it into the protective sheath and put it aside. He checked his lance point to make certain it was sharp and unchipped, then lifted and examined his shield, which was stout enough to repel arrows and deflect swords and lances. Its rim was razor-sharp to slash foes during combat. Carefully, he covered the circular edge with a band of tough leather to avoid cutting himself and his horse by accident. His garments were laid out and ready to don: brown knee boots, a leather warrior’s apron similar to the kind which had been popular with the Roman troops and worn over a dark loincloth, and a sturdy cuirass: a leather garment which fit his torso like personally made armor. The apparel was made complete by thick leather armbands which covered his wrists and forearms to protect those vital areas from slashing cuts and to strengthen them while handling a heavy sword for long periods.

 

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