Alysa glowed with happiness and relief. She rushed into his beckoning arms and hugged him tightly. “Trosdan vowed we would be reunited beneath a conqueror’s moon, and one will rise tonight.”
Trosdan stood, smiling. “I will leave you two alone to talk. But you must hurry. Time for the ritual approaches.”
Gavin inquired, “One thing I do not understand, Wizard; why did you place two of the treasures in Hengist’s area, especially when I had allegedly come from his camp? What if he had approached us?”
The old man grinned, his light-blue eyes shining brightly. “I knew the Jute would not intrude on our ruse or expose you.”
Alysa and Gavin smiled, too, and it was unnecessary for the wizard to clarify his meaning. Obviously he had prepared well for this ruse.
Gavin asked, “Who killed Eirik’s friends and the others? Why? And what am I to do at this ritual?”
The wizard said, “Come, sit, and we shall go over our last ruse for today, and I shall answer all your questions.”
Alysa and Gavin followed Trosdan into the eldhus, holding hands. After their hasty talk, the old man left to head for Stonehenge to prepare for the upcoming ritual.
Gavin teased, “You fooled me, Eirik, another time, m’love. When you were praying to Odin about the first quest, you knew I was spying at the window and you slyly gave me those clues. You did not know Trosdan had placed clues within my mind for most of the quest sites. He made certain all went well. You will never know how hard I worked to win you and the kingship of these barbarians. You were smart to let Eirik know how much you loved him and wanted him.”
Alysa and Gavin discussed the quest for a short time, then embraced and kissed. They vowed their love to each other and reaffirmed their commitment.
“I must bathe and dress, my love,” she murmured reluctantly.
Just as reluctantly, Gavin released her to do the same. “Must you wear those garments?” he asked, eyeing the provocative outfit.
“I know it is revealing and immodest, but it distracts the men while Trosdan does his tricks. I will cast it away when this task is done.”
Gavin’s smoldering gaze wandered over his ravishing wife from head to foot. “Nay, m’love. Save it for use in our private chamber. It stirs my blood and enflames my body. It will remind us of this exciting time together. In our own world, you can become Alysa again, the Last Viking Queen, and I can be your Eirik.”
She stroked the scar on his cheek. “You are my Eirik, for he is parts of you, sides which I had not met until we came here.”
“When we return home, you shall discover all things about me, just as I shall learn all things about my beloved wife.”
Alysa seductively jested, “If you do not grow silent and cease looking at me like that, we shall be late for the ritual.”
The anticipatory crowd gathered amongst the towering stones at the Druid temple. Trosdan, Alysa, and Gavin stood in the center, near the pale green Altar Stone. All eyes were upon them.
“We have come to do Odin’s will,” Trosdan called out to the suspenseful Norsemen. “We must crown our High King and empower his weapons so we can begin a legendary conquest. Eirik, our glorious champion, stand forth and receive the god’s gifts to you.”
Gavin, clad in only a warrior’s apron and boots, faced the old man, reminding himself to play Eirik perfectly. His stance was tall and proud and reverent. He waited while Trosdan chanted prayers to the Viking gods as the old man sprinkled blue water—which was supposedly sanctified— over his entire body. The colorful beads eased down his golden flesh and made visible streaks to match the heavens.
Next, Trosdan prayed and chanted indistinguishable words over the five objects from the quest and flicked blue holy water on them. He called Alysa to stand on the altar and enchant the prizes for her husband with her magical ring.
Eirik helped her mount the stone. The queen lifted her hands skyward and implored, “Hear me, Great Odin, send down your power to make these weapons invincible.” She positioned her hand with the false ring and wiggled it. The brilliant sun passed through the cleverly cut stone and sent purple flashes upon the prizes. With the wizard’s skillful preparations, sparkles were. seen dancing off them and “zings” were heard as the slender purple lightning bolts struck them.
The crowd was awed and amazed by this display of power and magic. Superstitious and susceptible, they believed what they viewed. Excitement and joy flowed through the stimulated Norsemen.
Gavin was filled with pride and delight as he observed his wife’s enormous wits and skills at work. Truly Alysa was an amazing and unique woman, more than a worthy and capable ruler. Yea, he ruefully admitted, he had underestimated her as a ruler, as a warrior, as a woman. He was glad his eyes had been opened to the truth. All men here craved her, but she was his, his for all time and for all purposes.
Trosdan evoked, “Great Njord, god of wealth and seafaring, hear our summons and answer us. Empower this prow for our new king. Let its all-seeing eye guide him to riches and victory for his people.” He heated water over a sacred flame and tossed it over the ship’s figurehead. With special powder inside the dragon’s wooden mouth, the water united with it and caused it to activate. Sizzling sounds were heard, like hisses. Curious smoke left the creature’s mouth. Foam formed and ran over the sides and down the beast’s neck.
The crowd drew back in trepidation, as if the dragon had come to life and was about to devour them. Trosdan commanded two men, “Come forward and see if you can touch him.”
The two men obeyed, placing their hands on the carved neckline and making contact with the strong chemical. They screamed and jerked away their burned hands. Trosdan told Gavin, “Touch it, King Eirik, for Njord will protect you from all harm on land and sea.”
Gavin knew to make no contact with the liquid. He touched the dragon’s neck and head anywhere the chemical was not. He lifted his hands and slowly turned to show everyone he was not burned or pained. A cheer arose for him and that blessing.
Trosdan lifted the helmet and called out, “Our goddess Frey, we summon you to hear our plea and respond. Grant our king peace, plenty, fertility. Use your powers to enchant this helmet to protect his mind, the ruler of his body. Touch it!” he commanded two others.
The Norsemen fearfully obeyed, then yelled in agony. He told Gavin, “Take it, for Frey will protect you from harm.”
The Cumbrian prince carefully took the helmet as Trosdan had instructed and placed it on his head. He turned several times to evince his power, then removed the helmet.
The same trick was performed with the shield calling upon Freyja—Viking goddess of love-to protect his heart. The Norsemen did not realize that Gavin knew the only safe spots to touch each item and were fooled by his guile.
Trosdan held up the quest dagger. “Odin’s blade is deadly to all except our enchanted king. Great Odin, ruler and creator of all things and people, hear our prayer. Protect your chosen champion from all harm. Reveal your will to him and he will obey it and lead your people as you desire.” He slew a lamb with it and drained its blood into a sacrificial bowl. The Druid placed one dot in the center of Gavin’s forehead and a handprint over his heart. He put the dagger in Gavin’s hand and told him to clasp his hands and hold it over his head. When Gavin obeyed, the wizard withdrew his trick knife and pretended to stab Gavin in the heart, in the center of the bloody symbol.
The crowd shouted in dismay and surged forward to attack the treacherous attiba. Trosdan held up the blade. “Be calm. He lives. He cannot be slain. See, he does not bleed or reveal a wound.”
The crowd gaped on in ever-increasing astonishment. They had never seen an indestructible mortal. Surely their gods had a hand in this matter and were hovering over this sacred place. To think of an invincible ruler with invincible weapons stirred their minds to a near frenzy. The dagger was placed on the altar with the other prizes.
Trosdan lifted the last treasure, the legendary sword of Julius Caesar. “Hear us, Great Thor, guardi
an of law, justice, victory, and power; grant such gifts to Odin’s chosen one. The sword Yellow Death kills with only a minor cut, but not our champion, even, if it is taken from his hand as it was with the Emperor. It is Thor’s gift to our king.” Trosdan grasped Gavin’s hand and sliced across his forefinger. Blood ran forth and Trosdan captured it in a small metal dish.
The Vikings, recalling the legendary tale of Caesar’s viperous sword, looked on in fear and dread for their king, but nothing happened to him. Tension mounted, as did suspense and awe.
The wizard took a rabbit from a cage and knicked its ear with the sword. The creature kicked and writhed upon the altar and died. “See, Yellow Death is lethal to all forms of life except our king.”
As the people whispered in wonder, Trosdan poured a healing potion over Gavin’s finger. The bleeding halted and the injury sealed itself. “We must leave these weapons here all night for our gods to come and touch. No one must come near this temple or he will be struck dead. At dawn, our king will reclaim them. We shall make a sacrificial fire and then begin our feast.”
Trosdan glanced at the rapidly setting sun. Dusk was near, so the signal could be seen by their spies not far away. While word was being passed to all three forces, the unsuspecting Norsemen would be drinking ale laced with a slow-acting sleeping potion. The Druid could not let their foes drop too swiftly or suspicion would arise. It had to appear to the other Vikings as if their friends were passing out because of too much ale. The wizard placed the lamb’s body and the rabbit’s on a wooden altar and set it ablaze. He tossed Gavin’s blood upon it, then cast another liquid there. Colorful flames leaped skyward like a magical fire which was trying to reach the heavens and warm the gods.
Weylin smiled with relief and pride. He could hardly wait to see Gavin and Alysa. He told the five men with him, “There is the signal to prepare. We must return to our camps with this good news. Soon our pagan foes will be drunk and helpless. We will surround their camp under the cover of darkness, and attack in force at the next signal. This battle will be won quickly and easily.”
In their dwelling, Alysa and Gavin were in the tub he had stolen for her as Eirik. She was playfully scrubbing the blue streaks and bloody marks from his virile body. She was surprised that his cut finger needed no tending or bandaging. “The signal has been sent to our united forces, my love, and the deadly feast has begun. Soon this task will be over and we can return home.”
“Yea, home,” he echoed contentedly. “This time, I am looking forward to a quiet existence with you. You have given me more than enough fear and excitement and challenges for a lifetime.”
As she rubbed the cloth over his chest, she teased, “You say that now while you are sitting in the midst of your greatest adventure. But what of two months from now? A year from now? Three years?”
“Nay,” he vowed honestly, confidently. “As Eirik told you, my restless spirit lives no more. Our new challenge will be to make our land the most prosperous and happiest in Britain. Perhaps soon we shall have children to offer us other challenges and pleasures.”
“That is so,” she informed him with a sly smile. “You are a very virile force, my lusty liege, and my body is fertile ground. Already your wonderful seeds grow within me where you planted them.”
“What do you say?” he questioned, staring at her.
Alysa smiled serenely. “That I carry your children. I did not know until the night of the storm. Trosdan told me. He read it in the sacred Runes, for they know all things. He says we are expecting twins, a son. to sit upon the throne of Cumbria, a daughter to take the crown of Damnonia, and we shall rule from Cambria. Will that be enough stimulation for you, my wandering rogue?”
“Why did you not tell me this morning?”
“There were other things to reveal and discuss first. You were angry and distressed. You had the ritual. I did not wish to spoil such a special announcement. I was going to wait until after the battle to tell you so you would not worry about me, but I could not contain my happy secret any longer. The danger to us is passed. At this moment the Vikings are celebrating their good fortunes and getting drunk on ale laced with Trosdan’s potions. I will lock myself in here during the attack, though “it will hardly be a difficult battle, which is good. I want none of our friends, families, or subjects harmed. I will be safe; I promise you.”
Gavin’s wet hand went to her abdomen, dampening her kirtle. He gently rubbed it and grinned broadly. “This is wonderful news, m’love. A glorious victory, peace, home, our children…” he murmured ecstatically “Surely I am blessed by the day we met.” He pulled her head forward and kissed her passionately.
Alysa gazed deeply into his eyes and knew, this time, all would be wonderful between them. As Trosdan and the Runes had predicted and vowed, Gavin had been changed for the better by this joint task. “We were both blessed, my husband, for it is our destiny.”
On the far side of the Viking camp, two Jute spies were watching the celebration. One said, “We must return and report to Hengist.” They slipped from their positions and mounted their horses.
Attired in the bronze gown and with her Viking circlet in place, Alysa strolled about the camp arm in arm with her husband, who was clad in a short tunic of blue and also wearing a gold crown. They were both delighted to see the Norsemen drinking heavily as they feasted and toasted their queen and king. The happy couple sipped nothing but the wine which Trosdan had given to them and nibbled on the food prepared by Logris slaves. They chatted falsely with their beguiled foes while mischievously alleging a great victory was at hand.
It was dark, and many torches lit the center of the settlement. A few men were lying about, near a debilitating state, while others were staggering as they resisted that same condition.
Trosdan, Alysa, and Gavin knew, from the original number of foes, that around six hundred and sixty Norsemen remained alive. Some were still suffering from contest injuries, .but were joining in on the celebration from their pallets. What they did not know was that a few men had left camp this morning during their private talk to fetch more casks of ale for that night. Those taken by force from a Logris village had been placed in the storehouse with the already treated casks. With all barrels taken out for the feast, many Norsemen were drinking from untainted ones, or drinking little from the heavily drugged casks.
Alysa and Gavin joined the Druid near Ulf’s deserted longhouse. Gavin smiled broadly and said. “All is going according to plan, Wise One. Soon these fierce barbarians will be too weakened by your special brew to defend themselves. When our forces respond to our signal, they will be slain and all of Britain will be saved.”
“Yea, Prince Gavin, our ruse has worked perfectly. They are all duped. I will give them a little more time to drink more of the tainted ale, then I will light the fire to signal our forces. The Norsemen will be defeated tonight. Tomorrow you and Princess Alysa can return home to Damnonia. All kingdoms will praise your daring deed.”
Gavin hinted, “I want none to escape, Trosdan. I never want my wife threatened by them again. They were fools to believe Alysa Malvern Crisdean would become their queen. The contest was a cunning way to rid ourselves of many of them, and this drugging feast will finish them off for us. Do not wait too long before giving the fiery signal, Wise One. We want our forces to enjoy at least a small battle with them. Else they will feel cheated during this glorious victory.”
The wizard nodded understanding. “Take the princess to her dwelling, where she will be safe during the attack. Too many of these foes are still alert. I will wait a while longer to summon our warriors.”
Gavin looked at Alysa and grasped her hand. He escorted her to the stone house, then said, “Go inside and bar the door. Open it for no one except me. Protect yourself and our children.”
She teased, “I thought you did not believe in the wizard’s powers and foresight. What if he is mistaken about my condition?”
Gavin met her playful gaze and said without a doubt, “I trust Trosda
n and the Runes. They have proven themselves to me. I shall never doubt such forces and powers again. When we return home, we shall make him our adviser. Does that please you, my beautiful wife?”
“Yea, it pleases me. When a man is strong enough and confident enough to recognize his limitations and strengths, that is when he is truly invincible. Be careful,” she urged and kissed him.
Prince Gavin Crisdean watched his beloved wife, Prin cess Alysa Malvern Crisdean, enter the abode he had won as Eirik in a gamble and battle with a Viking foe. He headed back to join Trosdan.
The Logris captive who had been standing in the shadows near Ulf’s longhouse to relieve himself of spent ale had overheard the shocking talk. Having sided with the powerful Norsemen, he knew what must be done. He hurried to the spot where several Vikings were chatting and drinking, and he related the incredible news to them.
The Druid High Priest said a silent prayer to his gods and. lit the large signal fire. He had kept one last secret from Alysa and Gavin; his death as a result of the attack. He had told them he was willing to give up his life for them; now he would be compelled to prove it. To save Gavin from a lethal sword blow, he must die.
Trosdan gazed into the colorful flames and awaited his fate. As he did so, he thought of Giselde, Alysa’s grandmother, now the wife of King Bardwyn of Cambria. I love you, Giselde. I always have. But to achieve this great moment in destiny, I could not claim you.
Far away in Malvern Castle in Damnonia, Giselde stiffened and chills raced over her body. Within her mystical mind, she heard the words of her teacher and friend, as Trosdan had neglected to recall her special powers. Giselde quickly fetched her belongings and prayed.
The Last Viking Queen Page 38