The Last Viking Queen

by Taylor, Janelle

  It was dark when they arrived. Eirik was close behind. He asked to speak with her at the corral. Alysa nodded to Trosdan to comply, and the old wizard reluctantly left them alone.

  “You seem pale and different, m’love. What troubles you? Did Ulf harm you? If he did, I will slay him.”

  Alysa’s gaze roamed him before she replied, “I have acted rashly, Eirik. I have allowed lust for you to sway me from my destiny. And you have allowed your hunger for me to distract you from the sacred quest. This … thing between us cannot continue until we have done our duties. Until I discover the truth for myself, you must not approach me again. If you dare to abduct me before I agree, I swear I will hate you forever and will try to escape you at every chance. I am confused and troubled, so do not add to my woes at this time. If you truly love me, keep your distance until I summon you.”

  Stunned, Eirik watched her almost race toward her borrowed dwelling. Much as he longed and was tempted to do so, he dared not pursue her, for she had appeared totally serious. Her words troubled him. Why had she said “lust” instead of “love”? How could she doubt her feelings for him, or his for her? What of the way she had seduced him in the hut and had taken him in the villa? What of her revelations and promises? “We shall be together for all time.” “I am yours, now and forever.” “We are destined to live as one.” “I love you and need you.” Why this sudden and agonizing change? She had accused him of being distracted from the sacred quest. Even though she had vowed he would win her regardless of the outcome, did she think he had given up trying to become king and husband at her side? Nay, he had not! In fact, he wanted both coveted ranks.

  Once she had told him to be strong for both of them, to prevent them from offending their gods and bringing down their wrath upon them. Was that what she feared, being “wicked and perilous,” being exposed? He had promised to trust her even if or when she was “forced to act strangely.” All he could do was give her time to sort out her thoughts and feelings, to believe in their love and bond.

  Presently, he had another worry. Ulf had two prizes, and he could not allow the evil man to find the last two. It would make Ulf’s position in the final battle too powerful. After much thought, he realized these people would never allow them to escape together, so he had to win her and remain here.

  Alysa entered the dwelling and faced Trosdan. She confessed, “Ulf did not find the right shield, so I told Rolf where to search for it.”

  “Why did you choose Rolf over Eirik?” he inquired.

  “Each champion needs at least one prize to keep him equal with the others and to keep him involved in this ruse.” She then related the information in the two messages.

  Trosdan observed her closely. “You do not appear happy with such news. Why is that?”

  “I do not know if I can trust my husband to be honest and sincere. What of the next time he grows restless and doubtful? I would rather have left him furious at home than have him vanish to punish me.”

  Trosdan advised in a softened voice, “Long ago, I told you of your imminent reunion and of your love’s change of heart. You must not blame Gavin for doing what the gods compelled him to do, for being led astray by a fate which he could not resist. If he had remained at home, you would not be here now and victory would not be within our grasp. You do this deed to free yourself and your heirs of peril.”

  Alysa frowned in dismay. She knew that Eirik’s close reflection of Gavin was not his only appeal to her. Eirik was. a special man. She respected him and enjoyed him. He was a heady blend of strength and gentleness. He was responsive to all her needs—physical, mental, and emotional. If she had met Eirik first, there was no doubt in her mind that she would have fallen in love with him. “The gods have been cruel to tempt me with Eirik. I truly believed he was Gavin, sent here to help me with this task. Eirik has been the man Gavin should have been. Eirik has Gavin’s looks and good traits, but none of his flaws. I cannot order his death, for he has touched my heart. What am I to do, Wise One?” she implored, her eyes tearing.

  Trosdan placed his arm around her sagging shoulders. “Trust in yourself and in your destiny. The gods will not make you suffer. There is a reason for this happening. Have faith, Alysa. Be strong and patient,” he coaxed sympathetically.

  “I want this task over with quickly. Is there no way we can rush it? I must return home and … I need peace, Wise One.”

  Trosdan eyed her intently. She looked so young, so fragile, so vulnerable. Perhaps he had been too hard on her. Yet he could not push her toward Eirik to ease her anguish.

  Alysa saw Trosdan’s concern for her. She forced a smile to surface. “I will be fine by morning. I only need time to accept this surprise. It was so unexpected.”

  “All things will work out as you desire, cherished one.”

  “Will they, Wise One? Will they?”

  As Trosdan lay on his pallet in the darkness, his mind was plagued by Alysa’s pain, for he was responsible for it. Even knowing what he did now, he would take the same path again. Yet he realized that he had underestimated the power of their love, the strong forces of their entwined destiny, the irresistible bond between Princess Alysa Malvern and Prince Gavin Crisdean.

  Yea, he was responsible for Gavin’s behavior and disappearance. He would do anything necessary to protect Alysa and all that was dear to her, even deceive her and let her suffer for a short time. With the aid of potent herbs, secret potions, and mind-controlling powers, the Hawk of Cumbria had become the Viking warrior Eirik.

  For weeks before Gavin left the castle. Trosdan had trained him without his knowledge or suspicion. He had instructed and compelled Gavin to behave as he had. He had furnished the unfamiliar horse, garments, and weapons. He had hidden Gavin’s Trojan and possessions. He had darkened the prince’s hair, removed the royal tattoo, and created the clever scar. He had made up the lineage and stories which Eirik related. In his last message to Damnonia, he had instructed Weylin to add those last two lines in his message to Alysa. On a walk which Eirik could not remember, he had compelled Gavin to write the note which had been meant to help her resist Eirik, the note he had delivered to Bath when he had claimed illness and left Rolf’s band.

  Gavin Crisdean had doubted Alysa’s abilities and her destiny. When his memory was returned after the quest, Gavin would recall everything that had happened here, and he would finally be convinced for all time of Alysa’s skills and fate. Never again would Gavin be fearful of letting her be herself or of losing her.

  Trosdan smiled peacefully. Gavin will know her needs and wants, and be happy to provide them. He will be stimulated and overjoyed by the strong and confident woman and ruler at his side. He will know she is worthy and capable of ruling her land and joint-ruling his one day.

  It did not matter to the old man if Alysa, or Gavin, never forgave him, or even slew him for his daring deceit. All that mattered to him were Alysa’s survival and happiness, and that of her children.

  He could not tell Alysa the truth at this point. She would demand to break the spell over Gavin, and that was too dangerous. If she knew the truth, she could make a careless slip or be enticed to take dangerous risks to have her love again. For her to continue to behave as necessary in this ruse, she could not be told until later.

  Nor could he break the spell over her husband at this time. Gavin had to be completely like Eirik, be a Viking warrior. If they were allowed to reunite too early, they and this ruse would be imperiled. They were too close to victory to take a chance of discovery. It was only a while longer before all would be righted as he had promised.

  Trosdan recognized one happy side to this dilemma. Alysa was attracted to Eirik. That was good, because Eirik was just like Gavin in nearly all ways—actions, deeds, feelings, and words. Yea, the two men were nearly matched in character and personality. When Alysa discovered she could and would have both men in one, she would be thrilled.

  The only peril in waiting to reveal the truth to Alysa and, Gavin lay in their irresistible a
ttraction to each other. It could cause trouble if anyone suspected it, and definitely would if anyone witnessed it. For that reason, he had to force Alysa to avoid Eirik for the remainder of this task. Gavin was in no danger. He was a powerful and cunning warrior, and Trosdan was guarding Alysa’s love. Gavin would win the quest, and win Alysa a second time.

  Trosdan sighed in relief in knowing Alysa would avoid Eirik now that she had heard from Gavin. Surely she would obey him now! He shuddered in alarm. If she but once in the throes of uncontrollable passion said, “I love you, Hawk of Cumbria,” the spell would be broken and his deceit would be exposed to both.

  Eighteen

  After Alysa had eaten, bathed, and dressed for the next adventure, she asked Trosdan, “Who drugged the men, Wise One?”

  After a soft chuckle and sly grin, he answered casually, “Surely you know it was me, Princess Alysa.”

  “How did you perpetuate such a ruse? Why did you not tell me?”

  “I slipped slow-working herbs into the cooking pots in Eirik’s and Rolf’s camps. I had to give you time to reach the bath to recover the message from Weylin. Since it was so close, all would have raced straight there and back. You would not have been given a chance to be alone. I needed your surprise and doubts to look convincing, so I did not enlighten you. Ulf is wary and alert and watches you closely, as do Rolf and Eirik. It is best you do not know some things in advance or you might make an error in judgment or response.”

  “Ulf knows it was not him, and should suspect it was neither Rolf nor Eirik. Will such a deed not make him more wary of us?”

  “It does not matter what Ulf thinks. The others did not believe him. If they should suspect another, it will be Einar, not us.”

  “But that will include and endanger Rolf,” she protested.

  “Rolf is a Norseman, our foe, one of those who must die,” he reminded her. “Would it not be best if he is slain by his own forces?”

  Alysa considered his words. “You are right, but it still pains me. He is a good and kind man. I wish he did not have to die.”

  “There is no other way, Alysa. Always remember they are foes.”

  “We remain here too long and get too close to them.”

  “We knew this ruse would require many weeks. It is only natural to make friends here. But all are future threats to you and must die.”

  “Why must I be spared at any price, Wise One?” she asked sadly.

  Trosdan was a firm believer in his gods. He was also a firm believer in his powers as a wizard and in his sacred rank of Druid High Priest. He truly thought he was obeying his gods and doing what was best for Giselde’s heir. “Because our gods will it,” he replied simply. When she looked skeptical, he reminded her, “Do not forget, my warrior queen, your ruse will save not only all you love and rule but will also save all of Britain. As well as for Damnonia, you also battle for your grandfather’s survival and that of Gavin’s parents. This task is far bigger and more crucial than you realize.”

  Imagining the terrible battle which would soon take place, she murmured, “There will be great bloodshed.”

  “Better it be that of fierce barbarians than of yourself, your children, your beloved, and your people.”

  “Such is true,” she admitted, feeling the weight of her heavy responsibilities. Why had the gods chosen her as Britain’s champion? She knew why; she had a way to get to their foes and defeat them.

  Loud noises suddenly seized their attention and when they rushed outside, they found a peasant girl surrounded by seven Vikings, who were shoving her about roughly and teasing her unmercifully.

  Alysa hurried forward and demanded, “What cruel mischief do my brave warriors practice on a mere child?”

  One man replied, “We found her sneaking around our camp, my queen. Surely she came here to give us pleasure and amusement. Perhaps she is a spy or a warrior in disguise. Perhaps she is Loki or another evil spirit,” he teased mirthfully.

  “Nay!” The frightened girl shrieked. “I came to see my mother. She is your captive. Please do not hurt me,” she pleaded, dropping to her knees before Alysa and sobbing pitifully.

  Alysa cast the sadistically mischievous men an admonishing glare. “Go about your tasks,” the queen ordered, sternly, “while I calm her and tend her injuries. She is but a child and should not be treated so badly by grown men. We have serious matters to handle.”

  As the Norsemen dispersed, Alysa told Trosdan she would join him soon, and led the trembling girl into her abode.

  Inside, the girl laughed and clapped her hands! “I fooled them, easy as catching a worm after a rain,” she boasted, confusing Alysa.

  The beautiful ruler fetched some wine. “Drink this,” the queen commanded softly, thinking the girl daft or in shock.

  The peasant girl shook her head and grinned. “Do not let my tiny size and face of a baby fool you, too, Your Highness. I am twenty, a fully grown woman, and a clever one. I came to give you a message. The man you helped escape was my uncle. My family and others are preparing to aid your brave deed if you have need of us. How exciting it will be to watch these barbarians flee or die!”

  Alysa wondered at the girl’s behavior. She was annoyed to learn that the smithy had shared such perilous and valuable information with this strange female who claimed to be older than she herself was. “I do not understand. Your uncle is dead and cannot aid me. One of the evil men here slew him when I was not present to halt him.”

  The overly confident female asserted, “Not before he begged us to help you battle these beasts if your forces fail you. If your victory does not come within two weeks, we will attack and rescue you. Then, you can lead us against them. With your skills and the wizard’s magical powers, we shall chase them from our land.”

  Alysa was hesitant to believe or trust the cocky wench. “Time is short for me today. Return to your people and tell them all captives here have been slain, but against my orders. Tell them to be careful whom they trust with my secrets or all is lost. I will find a way to get a message to your people soon. Where is your village?”

  The dreamy-eyed girl gave Alysa directions and they talked a while longer. Alysa urged, “Go quickly while the men are at the stone temple and before we are exposed. Do not risk another visit to me.”

  As the Vikings gathered at Stonehenge to begin the fourth quest, Rolf approached the area carrying a shield. He called out, “Ulf did not find the third treasure. I did. The shield he has is a false one. This is the prize of Freyja.”

  Startled, the red-haired leader stalked forward and examined the shield. “You seek to trick us, Rolf,” he accused.

  “Nay, Ulf, bring your shield forth and compare them,” Rolf challenged, then laughed tauntingly. “I found this one in the old mud bath as the clue revealed. You hold nothing more than a Roman symbol.”

  All waited while Ulf fetched his shield. The two were compared. Trosdan said, “The image upon Ulf’s is that of the Roman goddess Minerva. The shield of Rolf’s bears Freyja’s face and signs.”

  No one could dispute the wizard’s words or the evidence. Rolf grinned mockingly. “Your evil deeds have defeated you, Ulf.”

  Ulf approached the altar and placed his hands upon it. He cried out, “Hear me, Great Odin. If I have lied or deceived my people, strike me dead. I swear upon your altar I am innocent.”

  All waited breathlessly, but nothing happened. Ulf removed his hands, turned, and lifted them skyward. He shouted, “See, my friends, I speak the truth. If there is evil amongst us, it is not mine.”

  Trosdan wished he could have struck down the offensive man, but he had need of Ulf later for a special task…

  Rolf could not suppress a frown. He had hoped Odin would slay Ulf. No matter if the redhead still breathed and walked, Rolf did not trust him or believe him. When they were finished here, he would let Enid, who had washed and polished the shield, hide it for him as she had done with the amulet. No one would suspect he trusted a captive to assist him, and he had Enid totally e
nchanted with him!

  The lots were drawn. Trosdan was to go with Ulf. Rolf was to travel alone. And Alysa was to journey with Eirik …

  Trosdan stood upon the altar and gave the fourth clue. “The Roman Emperor Julius Caesar had conquered all of the known world, except this isle. He hungered for it. Hearing the Celts were fierce warriors, he knew he must use guile to obtain Britain. Learning of King Cassivelaunos’s love for horses, the Great Caesar selected the best one in the world and had a fine harness made for the grey. A merchant delivered the animal to the Briton king, saying it was a gift from the Emperor of the World who wished to meet the only ruler who could compare with him. The prideful Cassivelaunos was fooled by such flattery. Thus, the sly conqueror was invited ashore. With his feet and men on land, Caesar announced his intention to conquer Britain.”

  Trosdan took a breath before continuing. “Too late Cassivelaunos realized his error in judgment. He was outraged by the command of a ruler who was also descended from the Trojans as they were. The challenge was given and accepted. The forces met on the battlefield. But all did not go well for the Celts, for Caesar possessed a powerful and magical sword called Yellow Death. Every blow with this sword caused death, even a small cut from it. The Britons were forced to withdraw for a time. Cassivelaunos’s younger brother Nennios determined to steal the enchanted sword and save his king and people.”

  Trosdan kept his gaze on the three champions before him as he related his riddle. “Nennios charged the Romans and received many wounds. Yet he made his charioteer race toward the invader. Nennios battled feverishly with Caesar and seized the fearsome sword. Jumping into his chariot, he ordered his driver to carry Yellow Death to his brother, the king, as he had been wounded by the lethal weapon. The brave warrior died quickly, but the sword was delivered to Cassivelaunos, who wept and vowed vengeance. The Celtic king stabbed the sword into the ground and the earth bellowed with rage. Caesar knew he was beaten for the present, so he hastily withdrew his forces from this isle.”