The Last Viking Queen

by Taylor, Janelle

  Alysa hurriedly pulled on her kirtle and checked the room for any sign which would expose her wild and crazy mischief. She went to the door and unbarred it, rubbing her sleepy eyes and yawning.

  Trosdan entered, and was fooled by her behavior. “I should have slept at the temple and not disturbed your sleep, my beloved princess. The Runes have spoken to me. I will share their news with you.”

  Horror flooded Alysa as she realized her Viking lover was hiding nearby and would overhear anything they said.

  Thirteen

  Alysa was relieved when Trosdan said, “I will visit the wounded to see if any man needs tending, then nap a few hours. Return to bed and sleep, my princess, for you look very tired. After we are refreshed, we will talk.” Trosdan gathered some items and left again.

  Alysa leaned against the door and sighed heavily. Her heart was pounding in fear, and from guilt. She hated deceiving the old man, but she knew what he would think of her wickedness. She angrily scolded herself for being so weak last night, as her actions could complicate this dangerous situation. Foolishly she had allowed herself to forget Eirik was not Gavin Crisdean, at least in mind. She did not even want to imagine the consequences of her wanton behavior.

  Eirik threw aside the covering and rushed to her side. He gathered her trembling body in his arms and embraced her. He knew how frightened she must be and he wanted to comfort her. If anyone learned of their passionate adventure, they would both be imperiled. Loving her fiercely, he could not allow any harm to befall her, or to tarnish her golden image. He had achieved much with his impulsive visit; he had unleashed her love for him and had revealed his love for her. Now that they were one in body and spirit, nothing could part them or come between them. With tormenting tenderness, he whispered into her ear, “Do not fear, my beautiful enchantress. I will sneak out while he is gone. I will let no one see me and I will tell no one of last night. We will talk when it is safe.” He captured her pale face between his hands and kissed her very gently, urgently. Eirik peeked outside and, sighting no one about yet, slipped out the door and closed it.

  Alysa collapsed upon the bed. She felt weak with fear and indecision. Eirik’s manly odor assailed her warring senses. She turned over the pillow to prevent it from arousing her already heightened desires. She wanted Eirik to remain here with her, but that could not be. She yearned to talk seriously with him, to open his mind to the truth, to seek comfort and passion and assistance from him. She was fascinated by Eirik, and she wondered how much of Gavin’s personality and character were in him, things about her husband which she had not been given time to discover. She liked this unknown side of her love, and she hoped he remained this way when the spell over him was broken.

  Gavin loved this kind of life, which offered him excitement and danger and challenges. Would he become bored, restless, and moody again when it was over and his spell was broken, a spell which made him compliant to her? Was that why fate had bewitched him? Gavin would have battled these foes head on, and probably lost all. He had refused to believe victory must be won with wits, daring, and guile. She doubted she could have found a way or words to convince him of that truth. Had the fates made certain he would cooperate?

  When it was all over, would Gavin leave her again to seek more adventure and daring deeds? She had to admit that she liked him better this way, as Eirik, or as the mysterious warrior she had first met months ago. She liked being accepted for herself and being included in on all matters, not being the woman Gavin wanted her to be after their marriage. Why could he not stay like this?

  If he was Gavin… She trembled in alarm and confusion. She had made love to no man except her husband. After her passionate night with Eirik could that claim still be true? She closed her misty eyes and prayed that he was Gavin. If not, how could he ever forgive her for lying with another man, a fierce enemy? How could she ever forgive herself for such a weakness? Or forget Eirik?

  She wondered, too, what Eirik would do now that he had possessed her? How would he behave before others and to her? Did he view her surrender as love? As her choice of him as victor and mate? As a means of help with the quest, which he did not know was false? If she refused to aid his cause or if he did not win, would he threaten her? Betray her? What if her forces did not arrive or did not win their battle? What if Ulf or Rolf won the quest and no one appeared to save her? What if Eirik won, but he was not Gavin and no help arrived in time? Could she wed him and continue this farce until… Until what?

  Trosdan had warned her to stay away from that perilous entanglement. She had promised to obey. In a moment of weakness and need, she had fallen prey to Eirik’s irresistible charms, to his likeness to her lost love. Alysa bolted upright in bed and frowned worriedly. Except for adding the missing royal tattoo and removing his facial scar, it was almost as if Eirik had made himself appear more like Gavin before trying to ensnare her! If such was true, how much did he know about her and her husband? Had the cunning warrior practiced disarming guile on her? Was he a weapon which the dark forces sent here to defeat her?

  Alysa frantically deliberated this predicament. There was no way she could discover if Eirik was an enspelled Gavin. What if her love had been snatched by the dark forces and was being held captive somewhere while this replica enchanted and defeated her? Shape-changing was known to happen, but it was dangerous, as a man or force could be entrapped forever in that chosen body. Who was this man, this demon or spirit, who had stolen her love’s image to dupe her?

  Yet perhaps he was Gavin, but a Gavin deeply entranced. How could she free him? Free him before he destroyed her without knowing the truth about them? She could not risk enlightening him, as he would not believe her. How clever of Evil to use Gavin against her! Evil knew she would surrender to him! Evil knew she would never harm him even to save her own life!

  There was only one way to protect them and to prevent a disaster with this task. She must avoid Eirik. Yet that would not be easy. She had to be careful not to arouse the curiosity of others or to vex Eirik with her behavior. If he was sent here to entrap her, he would be hard to dissuade. But if he was a bewitched Gavin, she had to protect him until she could break the spell over him. If he was not, should she ask Trosdan to end his threat and magical pull? Nay, she could not avoid him, but she must resist him. If only the gods would reveal his true identity and motives…

  Alysa heard Trosdan at the door. Quickly she snuggled beneath the cover and pretended to be asleep. He entered quietly and went to his pallet. Soon, his breathing told her he was slumbering. A sudden fatigue claimed her, and she cleared her mind to enter the beckoning blackness.

  Another series of knocks at the door awakened Alysa and Trosdan near midday. Trosdan left his comfortable pallet and answered it to find Enid standing there with their meal. Hungered by the delectable aromas, he invited her inside, and she placed the food on the table. Trosdan followed her. He remained in the eldhus area and drew a curtain for Alysa’s privacy.

  The smiling captive approached the rising Alysa and whispered, “It was wonderful last night, my generous queen. This time, he called my name, not yours,” she happily divulged as she straightened the bed.

  Putting aside her memories of last night, Alysa smiled. “This is, good, Enid. I am happy for you. Perhaps the love potion works on more than his physical passion. Perhaps he loves you and does not realize it. You are a strong and special woman, but a captor does not expect to fall in love with his slave. He sees me as a path to the kingship, so he pursues me. Give him more time to understand and accept such feelings. No matter what happens, Rolf will be yours.”

  “Do you think he will marry me if he does not win you?”

  Alysa whispered conspiratorially, “We will make certain of it.”

  The Logris captive left with glowing eyes and cheeks. Alysa joined Trosdan and took her seat. “All goes well with Enid. She is happy and duped. She will hate me when this task is over, for her love will be dead, lost to her forever in this world. I wish Rolf were not a
Viking foe, as he is a good and kind man and Enid loves him.”

  Trosdan stopped eating to remind her, “He must be slain with the others, for he is a strong man who could not accept our friendship and truce. He would seek revenge upon us, and he knows the truth about you. This task is to free you of all threats from your Viking ties. If but one lives, so will your peril.”

  “Yea, Wise One, I know that truth only too well.”

  “Do not look so sad. Remember, they are enemies.”

  She admitted, “We have spent too much time amongst them. Many have endeared themselves to me. Their deaths will come hard.”

  “It is only because we have lived amongst them as friends, as queen and attiba. If such were not true, we would despise them. You have not forgotten how they attacked your land and others, wantonly destroying all in sight, pillaging and burning and raping. They are cruel and brutal men. Their greed is evil and powerful. They prey on others who are weaker than themselves. Think of what your fate would be if you were not their queen, only their captive or helpless victim. Think of the danger to your children when they are born. You do not want your son or daughter stolen by them and raised as a Viking, to rule barbarians far away instead of ruling your subjects here in Britain.”

  “Such words are true, Wise One, but they trouble me. By blood and heritage, these are our people, yours and mine. If things had not been changed for us by fate years ago, we would not feel this way. We would think and feel and behave as they do.”

  The old man reasoned gently, “But fate did intervene, my princess. We were born to defeat the forces of Evil. We must be strong, for we represent the forces of Good.”

  “Good?” she echoed. “How do we know what is good or bad? What is good for one is bad for another. We kill them, or they kill us. Murder is murder, Wise One. Where does the difference lie?”

  “You know the truth and the difference, my beloved princess, without me explaining,” he said, and she did.

  Alysa and Trosdan finished their meal, but remained at the table. When Trosdan spoke again, his words stunned Alysa.

  In a grave tone, he revealed, “As I fasted and prayed last night, the Sacred Runes spoke to me. The gods knew you were weakening and sent this message to you. They said, be strong, Alysa, for your love awaits your reunion. He will be with Lord Weylin when they attack our foes at Stonehenge and will share in our great victory. Nay, Gavin will lead it. You shall be reunited at the stone altar in the sacred temple and never parted again.”

  Alysa gaped at the wizard. This could not be true! Must not be true! If so, she had … The gods had sent their message too late! Was that why Evil had tempted her last night? Gavin was coming with Weylin and their joint forces? He was at home preparing for this momentous event while she was surrendering passionately to Evil? Nay, her warring mind argued, it could not be true! Her love was here, was he not? Yet the Sacred Runes had never been wrong …

  “Gavin will lead the attack on that fated day?” she inquired.

  “Yea, my princess, and he will be pleased with all you have done. His will know you have only yielded to fate. No longer will he doubt you and your skills. He will again be the man you loved and wed. All will praise your courage and cunning. All foes will be slain.”

  Only yielded to fate? her mind screamed in anguish. If Gavin discovered her … If all would be good between them again, that meant he would never learn of her betrayal with Eirik. Did that mean Eirik would be slain before he could expose her sin? Why did that thought torment her? If Eirik was evil, why did she object to his death? If he was evil, how could he be so gentle, so wonderful? Nay, she could not so misjudge him or be so blind and gullible! If Eirik was not Gavin, they must be closely related, perhaps twins or brothers! Otherwise, they could not be so alike.

  After knowing Eirik so intimately, how could it ever be the same between her and Gavin? How could she forget or excuse Gavin’s wicked deeds against her? He had deserted her. He had doubted her. He had denied her what she needed. If he had returned home, where had he been? Why had he left her side? Was he happy only because he could lead the charge which would save her, which would defeat their Viking foes? Terrible, unwanted feelings consumed her.

  Trosdan inquired, “What troubles you, my princess?”

  “Men,” Alysa stated simply.

  “I do not understand.”

  “Even if fate took Gavin from me and will return him to my side, I am angry with him. When Isobail threatened my kingdom, he wanted to save it without my help. When the Vikings threatened me and our land, he wanted to defeat them and leave me home. When I told him my destiny was to save my people, he laughed. Now he will lead the attack against our foes and expect all the credit. If he does not receive it, will he behave as he did when my victory was greater than his before his selfish disappearance? I need a husband who believes in me, who knows I can perform my duties, all of them. I am not a child or a weakling. I am a queen, a warrior, the ruler and defender of my people. Gavin deserted me when I needed his love and understanding, when I needed his aid. He betrayed our love and commitment. I do not know if I can forgive such offenses.”

  Alysa did not realize she was speaking from feelings of anguish, guilt, and frustration. Eirik had accepted her as she was, when Gavin had not. Eirik was here, when Gavin was not. Eirik believed in her, when Gavin had not. Eirik was sharing her fate, when Gavin was not. Yet how would Eirik behave if he knew the truth of her ruse? How had Rurik behaved when he had fallen in love with Giselde? He had sided with her Celtic people against the Vikings! Maybe Gavin was not her destiny; maybe he had only prepared her to fall in love with Eirik.

  “It is only natural to feel such things, my princess,” Trosdan replied knowingly. “But Prince Gavin Crisdean is your fate. As you must know by now, when fate calls, a person cannot refuse to answer. That is how it was with your husband. He did not understand such things. He feared for your survival. He battled them in mind and body. When you see him again at the Altar Stone, he will know and accept such things. Do not blame him for his deeds,” the wizard urged.

  “What of Eirik? What is his fate?” she asked unexpectedly.

  “When the battle is over, Eirik will be no more. Forget him. Avoid him as you would death and evil. Eirik can bring on our defeat.”

  Alysa envisioned the handsome warrior lying dead on the battlefield, then his virile body burning upon a funeral pyre. Never see him again … Betray him and destroy him… “Have the Runes never been wrong, Wise One?”

  “Never,” the Druid High Priest replied, eyeing her closely.

  Forget him, she agonized. How could she when she had given him all her love last night? How could Evil be so splendid, so kind, so unselfish, so tender? Nay, something was wrong…

  “I will think on your words and the message from our gods.”

  “Do not think on them, Alysa, obey them,” he commanded.

  Later that afternoon, Alysa went to Rolf’s dwelling. Only Enid was there, singing happily as she worked. She told the captive, “I will ask Rolf to go riding with me. We are friends, so he will expect me to spend time with him. We must do nothing to arouse his suspicions against us. Here is another vial of potion for you to use. Take care, dear Enid, for it is more powerful than the last.”

  Alysa left to find Rolf, locating him with several friends. She asked, “Will you escort me while I ride today? Calliope needs exercise.”

  Rolf beamed with pleasure. “Yea, my queen, I will be honored. Come, we will leave immediately.”

  Alysa mounted her dun, a grayish-brown horse with black tail and mane. Sweyn, Rolf’s closest friend, joined them to prevent gossip. The three rode for many miles along the lovely bank of the River Avon, chatting and laughing genially as if they had been friends for years. Alysa urgently needed to relax, as her nerves were taut and her mind in turmoil. After a time, they halted to rest their horses. Rolf asked his friend to wait there while he and Alysa walked a ways to talk privately. Swyen nodded and sat on the grass.

/>   Alysa knew she had to let Rolf romance her to fool him and to dissuade Eirik’s pursuit. She realized such actions would anger Eirik, but he was a proud man, hopefully too proud to cause her trouble in public. The only way to protect herself, Trosdan, and their ruse was by keeping Eirik at a safe distance. What better way than to make him think she was interested in another man, his rival? That she had yielded to him in lust or guile.

  They entered a wooded area which was cool and lovely, leaving their horses to graze nearby. When they were out of Sweyn’s sight, Rolf captured her hand and halted their progress. When she looked up at him, he was smiling, devouring her with his hazel gaze.

  “I have craved to get you alone for even a moment, my beautiful queen. Each day my hunger for you grows larger and stronger.” He carried her hand to his lips and covered it with kisses.

  Alysa was about to slow Rolf’s chase when beneath his raised arm she sighted Eirik’s face peek from behind a large tree not far away. Quickly, she fused her eyes to Rolf’s, pretending she had seen nothing. What was Eirik doing here? she wondered. She had not seen him trailing them across the open downlands. They had traveled over rolling upland country with grassy slopes, a landscape which offered few, if any, hiding places. It was as if he were lying in wait for them to arrive so he could spy on them!

  Alysa resolved herself to carry out her desperate ploy. Rolf’s fingers wandered through her thick brown mane, and she smiled with pleasure and enticement. His hand gently stroked her cheek and teased over her uplifted chin. Slowly, as if fearing she would stop him, Rolf bent forward and sealed his lips to hers. When she did not refuse him, his mouth ardently crushed against hers, and she responded as she had in her dream of him at the castle weeks ago. His tongue danced around her soft lips and within her mouth, and he thrilled to the minglings of their flavors. He kissed her eyes and nose and tantalizingly roamed her face and throat. As if he could not get enough of her lips, he kissed her until they were breathless.