Viking Queen

by Savannah Rose

  We push the boat off the pebbled beach and watch it as it drifts away into the rising sun and I feel as though a part of me drifts away with it.

  ***

  When day comes we hold a council. The warriors have carved me a throne of rough wood from the remnants of a hollow tree. At first they kneel on the floor in front of me, their eyes directed to the ground as if simply getting ready to receive orders.

  “I don’t simply need servants,” I say to them at this, remembering what I learned from Ysulte about asking for advice. “I need your expertise. I can’t do this alone. I don’t need you behind me, I need you by my side.” It doesn’t matter how a queen is expected to treat her warriors, if they’re meant to be little more than servants. My warriors will be my equals.

  They rise as one, and silently find their sitting places on pieces of driftwood, tree stumps and stones. We have formed a ring on the beach. My first council as queen - albeit a queen in exile.

  “We need to take back the throne from my sister,” I say clearly. I know that I’m stating the obvious, but part of me still needs to hear the words out loud. It’s clear to me now that there can be no messing around with time - that’s Shar’s way, not mine. No, we need to admit that we’re now in a state of warfare. And we need to act accordingly.

  “Johan.” I turn to him, sitting on my left-hand side. I know that he will always be the first person that I ask for advice in these matters. “What are the numbers of the queen’s army?”

  “The standing army does not number so very many,” he responds immediately. “And without us they will have no commanders. The usurper queen will be without experienced generals to advise her. My belief is that she will take command of the army herself, which numbers only a few thousand.”

  “And what would be your counsel to deal with this threat?” I ask.

  “Raise an army of your own,” Johan responds immediately. “There is discontent everywhere in the kingdom thanks to the twelve years’ winter. Many people have no wish to see the usurper queen’s reign continue.”

  “I see.” I nod. “And how would you recommend going about doing that?” I direct the question to all of them, making eye contact with each in turn. It seems strange to me that so few words have passed between us so far - not even explanations, much less declarations of love. But we all understand that we have a job to do now, that the talking can come later.

  “Send us all back,” Haki says. “We can each ride to the four corners of the kingdom and command your people to fight in the name of their true queen.”

  “How will they know that she is the true queen?” Karsi interjects. His voice is slow, casual, but at his words I hear spoken the question I’ve been most afraid of.

  “How did we know?” Haki responds.

  “We didn’t.” Karsi raises his eyebrows, challenging Haki to look him in the eye. “That’s the truth of it. We may have felt it, but we didn’t truly know until it was almost too late.”

  Eirik still hasn’t spoken. He’s barely even made eye contact with me since we got to safety. I know that he must be feeling a terrible guilt just at the fact that he almost hurt me. I also know that he would never have actually done it, that he would rather have died first.

  But maybe he doesn’t know that himself. Not yet, anyway.

  “Eirik?” I say his name just to bring him out of himself, and he jumps. “What do you advise?”

  He pauses, still staring at the floor, to consider. Then finally - “I believe that if we coronate you queen and then go forth to spread the news from here, there will be a great number of people who will want to hear that news.”

  “Enough to fight Shar’s army?”

  He nods at the floor. “More than enough.”

  I take a deep breath. “So what is the process of coronation?”

  “It’s simple enough,” Johan interjects. “We wait for sundown and declare to the four winds that a new queen has risen. It is not for a man or woman to crown you, but the power of nature itself.”

  “And then what?”

  “And then you bestow your bond on us.”

  I blink. “Are we not already bonded?”

  “Partially,” Haki responds. “Enough that we know who you really are, dróttning. We have sensed it all along, and now it is clear to us. But…”

  “But what?”

  “We are not truly bonded to you. Not yet.”

  I nod. I don’t need him to say anything more. I already understand what he means. I’m maybe a little scared, but also can’t believe the prospect that soon I will be even more closely bonded to my Warriors than before. I hardly thought that possible, yet now it seems inevitable.

  I spend the rest of the day by myself. It’s partly to be alone with my thoughts, and partly because I instinctively sense that solitude is the appropriate state for one who is about to be crowned queen. Even so, I physically miss my warriors. I feel like a bride parted from her lover in the time leading up to her wedding. And in a way, I suppose, that’s exactly what I am.

  The warriors take the time to make preparations. They decorate my rough wooden throne with heather and flowers, and light flaming torches which they stick into the ground. By the time the sun starts to sink, the place where we had our council has taken on a sacred quality. I feel myself growing solemn. In equal parts I am thrilled and terrified by the prospect of what I have to do next.

  Johan takes my hand and leads me to the throne. I do not sit, but stand there. My Warriors have formed a circle around me - one facing north, one south, one east and one west. They speak as one in a language that I only understand with my heart - a language as old as the rocks and the cliff and the sea. They declare me as queen and demand my right to serve nature. I speak my own part in the ritual, accepting the task. I sit on the throne. Then the sun has gone down and there’s nothing left but the light of the burning torches as it reflects off my Warriors faces.

  My heart is thudding the whole time. I can barely believe how long I have been waiting for what is about to happen. I’m almost afraid of how I will feel afterwards - the sense of fierce joy and wholeness that I have looked forward to but never dared to hope for.

  Karsi leads me away first. Of course, it’s Karsi. Karsi who never says a word.

  He takes me off to a little secluded grove by the brook. I see that the Warriors have built a bed of sorts out of soft moss, and surrounded it with white flowers. The scent of them is rich and heady, and I feel almost like it will overpower me.

  Karsi undresses me in silence, slipping the light linen gown that I have worn all this time off my shoulders. I am naked except for the flowers that I put in my hair for the coronation ritual.

  I stand there in front of him for a long time. I do not feel exposed or vulnerable, but rather powerful, like the queen I am. Karsi sinks to his knees reverently before me. With my eyes I command him to undress too. He does so slowly, taking off each piece of armor carefully and laying it deliberately on the soft moss floor.

  But then he takes me in his arms, and there is no holding back. I have always sensed the animal in Karsi, and the animal emerges powerfully now. His kisses - all over my body - are hungry with the longing of a lifetime. Every touch of his great rough hands seems to demand more of my body, as if he needs to see and feel for himself the reality that his queen has returned and is truly with him.

  We kiss for what seems like hours, devouring each other. The anticipation is incredible - I know that when we finally come together as lovers it will consummate my true power as queen, and although I am longing for it I am also afraid. Karsi seems to sense my fear, but does not defer to it. Instead he leads me closer and closer, until I am right on the edge of claiming my power for the final time and I have no idea what happens next, no idea how to do anything but scream his name and beg him to give me the thing that I need.

  And he does. Again and again, and my power is complete.

  Afterwards we lie on that mossy bank together, side by side. I inhale the salt of hi
s body and know a contentment unlike anything I have ever felt before in my whole life. I know that nothing can ever stop me again.

  Seemingly by instinct, without me commanding him to do so, he eventually gets up, silently dresses and pads away.

  I am sated but not yet tired. Rather, I am charged with a strange energy that I seem to breathe in from those white flowers.

  Haki comes to me next. He is completely different to Karsi. He kisses me all over with such devotional longing that it seems he wants nothing but to kiss me, so this time it is for me to take charge. We are in each other’s arms for a long time, looking into each other’s eyes as we take our pleasure. He is sweet and kind and perfect, and my heart swells over with love for him.

  Then it is Johan’s turn, although ‘turn’ is not the right word at all. It’s strange how each encounter feels completely new and different, as if I’m being born again each time. Johan is different again - quiet, serious, respectful, but filled with such a deep caged longing that my breath is almost taken away by it.

  I wait for a long time for Eirik.

  I have been longing for and dreading this. Savoring the prospect and hoping that the time never needs to come. It’s not just that we have barely looked one another in the eye since the attempted execution. I have told him with everything I have that all is forgiven, but he doesn’t yet seem capable of forgiving himself.

  It takes a long time for him to come to me. I lie waiting for him, wrapped in a soft white linen bedsheet, listening to the sound of the brook flowing past.

  He moves so quietly that I barely hear his footsteps until he is already in the clearing.

  He has already removed his armor and is dressed only in the light skin leggings that they all wear under their tunics. The light from the torches glints off all the muscles in his chest, picking out every perfect line with the grace of a beautiful statue.

  He kneels by the brook and splashes some water over his face and neck. It trickles down along his chest to the place where his stomach muscles move back and forth. I can see that he is trying to keep his breath steady and can sense that his heart is pounding.

  “Forgive me, dróttning,” he says. I shake my head.

  “I’ve already told you, Eirik. There’s nothing to forgive.”

  He shakes his head impatiently. He is standing on the other side of the brook, maybe ten feet away from the comfort of the mossy bed. It feels like miles.

  “I don’t just mean for… for what I almost did. I mean forgive me for not knowing you instantly. My life is destined to serve yours, and to not know you at once was inexcusable.”

  “It does not matter,” I say gently. “You know me now. I understand that the only reason you did not acknowledge me in the first place was due to your deep sense of loyalty and honor. I cannot be angry at you for that, Eirik.”

  He does not respond. He’s still staring at his feet. With my eyes I trace the lines of his cheekbones and neck. I long to hold out my arms to him and ask him to come close. I long to order him to come to bed and serve his queen. But I can see that there is still some healing that needs to be done first.

  “Eirik.”

  He bows his head. “Dróttning.”

  “Tomorrow the battle to restore me to my rightful place begins.”

  He nods.

  “I need you at my side.”

  Nods again.

  “I cannot have you preoccupied with worries about the past, which cannot be changed. All that can be changed now is the future, and you will serve me best if you keep your focus on the future. Will you do that for me.”

  He drops to his knees. “I would do anything for you, dróttning.”

  “I know,” I say. I pause. “The fact that you’re so tortured by what happened before Eirik - you know that I love you even more for that?”

  He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.

  “So let us move on,” I say. I command him to come closer to me - not with my eyes, but with my senses. He obeys, crossing the ford of the little brook with a soft splashing sound.

  “Let us move on,” I say again, and kiss him.

  “Yes dróttning,” he says, and takes me in his arms.

  It is impossible to describe our coupling. In one sense I command the whole thing, yet I do not need to say a word to him. Every touch, every caress, every kiss and sigh and gentle flick of the tongue is exactly as my heart commands it, yet from the outside it might seem that Eirik was in control of the whole thing. But not really. He spends the night doing his duty by his queen.

  We wake in the daylight, lying in each other’s arms, our bare skin charged with warmth.

  “Are you not jealous?” I ask him conversationally. I already know the answer, but I need to hear it again, now. The old me would have thought it miraculous - impossible - that I could bed not one but four godlike men in the same night. It seems too good to be true, and yet I know that this is what the rest of my life will be.

  Eirik kisses my bare shoulder. “How could I be jealous?” he asks. “I have held my queen in my arms for these past hours. I have tasted her kisses. I know that I will do so again very soon, and long for that moment with all my heart. But jealous?” He grins, for the first time that I’ve seen. “No. How could I be jealous when I have what others would die for?”

  I laugh. It all seems so simple this morning, with my Warriors bonded so closely to me, closer than would ever have felt possible in any other lifetime.

  We all wash in the sea together, taking joy in the cool water on our skin. I am as perfectly happy as I have ever felt in my life, yet I know that it can’t last. A storm is brewing.

  We spend the morning lazily. Haki and Johan catch fish, and we all eat our first meal in what feels like forever. It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

  But we all understand that we need to return to real life by nightfall. There will be time for taking pleasure in one another late, but for now we have a mighty duty ahead.

  My warriors sharpen their broadswords on stones, check their daggers, test their bows. We have agreed that I will them back first so that they can ride out to gather an army under my banner, then I will return to lead them as we march on the castle - the castle that Shar still believes to be her own.

  I have not yet thought about what I will do if Shar is captured. The idea of my sister being killed or harmed fills me with terrible horror, yet I have no idea what else I can possibly do. Shar will always be working against me, I understand that now. We will never go back to how we were as children.

  But still I hope that I will not have to hurt her.

  At dusk the Warriors line up in front of me to receive my blessing and a final embrace. The idea of sending them away from me when we have so recently come together feels like pure torture. Yet I know that, since last night, when our bond reached its purest form, nothing can keep me away from them or them from me. I know that I will be able to reach through time and dimensions to take their hands, to whisper words of encouragement in their ears and urge them forward into battle, to fight for me.

  I send them off. The fire takes them away.

  Something new occurs to me when they are gone, something that I had not even dared to think about before.

  What if any of my Warriors are harmed or killed in this fight? What would happen then?

  I know with my intuition that there must always be four of the Queen’s Warriors. Surely there is some tradition in place to decide who might replace a fallen Warrior, but how could any of my four beloved men possibly be replaced? Just the idea of it makes me feel sick.

  I sit down cross-legged on the beach. I have fashioned new clothes for myself - a leather breastplate, soft leggings and boots, a small golden circlet for my head. I did not make them exactly, but simply thought that I needed them and they appeared to me in the woods.

  I build a fire, just a small one. The smoke from the driftwood fills the air around me with a dry, sweet smell. I drop handfuls of herbs into the fire. Ysulte never taught
me this exactly, but I know that it’s another thing that I learned from her, another thing I have to thank her for. Into the fire I cast a spell, placing protection over my four Warriors, wherever they may be. I promise myself that I will win this war with all four of them safe at my side - or not win it at all.

  Then, as an afterthought, I cast a spell for myself. I promise myself that whatever happens, I will follow destiny as it presents itself to me.

  ***

  For a day and a night I sleep, dream, think, wait. There is no specific agreement on when I will come to join the Warriors - we all understood instinctively that I will come when the time is right.

  But it’s not right yet.

  How do you prepare to go to war, sitting by yourself on a beach?

  I pass the time by talking to Ysulte. I know that she can’t talk back, yet if I listen very carefully I can hear the answers she would give in my own soul.

  I think about all the things that she taught me - or rather, the things that she forced me to learn for myself. She let me discover Shar’s true nature for myself, even when I couldn’t bear to believe it. She made me understand how deeply I needed my Warriors by sending me on that mission with Eirik. She taught me my own strength by forcing me to climb that cliff alone, and then taught me to keep going even when it seemed hopeless, as it had when Shar had stolen the codes. She taught me that I had the answers in myself for how I would win this war - by letting my natural love for my Warriors guide me. Her last lesson, it seems, was to leave me alone, to figure things out for myself.

  So that’s what I’m going to have to do.

  Something in my heart twitches.

  My warriors are calling me.

  I gaze deep into the little fire, and let it take me to where I need to be.