by Fabio
At the bottom of the fell, Viktor signaled his men to halt. Just beyond them, Wolfgard's frightful longship was gliding up to the wharf. As Viktor and his men dismounted and unsheathed their weapons, he ordered Sibeal to stay out of sight. Then all conversation ceased as they tensely watched Wolfgard's vessel thud against their wharf. Within seconds, dozens of shrieking warriors swarmed down onto the pier and raced toward them with swords waving.
At Viktor's signal, he and the others charged forward to defend themselves against the onslaught. Viktor felt crazed with fear for Reyna, and now he would have to fight his way through this pack of madmen before he could even start after her.
The vengeance of the gods, Canute had said. As Viktor crossed swords with a howling berserker who attacked him with wild lunges and savage thrusts, he wondered if the kinsman had spoken the truth. By now his state of mind was so frantic, the rush of adrenaline so intense, he did not at first notice that the boards of the wharf were shaking beneath his feet.
And then his entire world began to tremble ...
THIRTY-NINE
Down the fjord, near the ocean, Reyna also was fretting about the distant red glow, as well as the waves that loomed far higher and more bilious than normal. In that same instant she felt warm water gush between her thighs and excruciating pain grip the small of her back. She gasped and pressed a hand to her belly. Feeling her stomach muscles harden, she realized she was in labor, and might already have been in labor for some hours.
Reyna was eaten up with fear for her child, about to be born on the turbulent seas, and for Viktor, left behind to defend himself against Wolfgard. And as each moment passed, she became more terrified of the deepening crimson tide emblazoning the southern horizon like a spreading pool of blood. Again, it was as if they were sailing straight into the jaws of hell!
She could not have her baby amid that!
As a violent spasm gripped her, she turned to grab her brother's arm. "Alain, please, we must turn back," she beseeched. "I can feel the baby coming!"
"Good. He or she will grow strong in Loire."
"But we cannot proceed!" Stifling a moan of misery, Reyna pointed to the ominous horizon. "Look in the distance, at the red glow. There is clearly danger ahead."
"Bah! You are being a silly woman," Alain scoffed. "I have told you already, 'tis only a reflection of the dawn."
Reyna could have screamed her exasperation. "But there is no dawn to the south!"
One of the kinsmen spoke up from the helm. "Alain, we, too, are frightened of the glow. Mayhap 'tis a sign of troubled waters ahead."
"You are turning into a woman," Alain chided Gilles.
A strong wave buffeted the small craft. Reyna, close to panic, pulled out her dagger, grabbed Alain's arm, and pointed the knife at his chest,
"How dare you threaten me, sister!" he snapped, scowling angrily at her
Reyna spoke with deadly determination. "Alain, you will take me back to my husband's wharf now, or I will kill you."
He only laughed, infuriating her. "You will not slay me. You cringed at the mere thought of my harming the thrall who would have murdered you. You will not kill your own flesh and blood."
Reyna knew he had spoken the truth, and desperation choked her voice. "Alain, pray listen to me—"
"Alain! Look!" cried Barde.
As the vessel again rocked hard, brother and sister jerked around to watch an unfolding nightmare scene. Beyond them toward the southern horizon, the sea was literally boiling! As the company of four looked on in awe and disbelief, the waves churned and heaved; then the waters parted violently to form an abyss ... And out of the yawing cavern spewed huge streams of liquid fire, ashes, and rocks!
Clinging to the bulwark, Alain spoke distraughtly to Reyna. "What is happening?"
At first she was just as confused as she heard the sea roar like a savage demon, watched huge clouds of steam rise as the ocean filled the vacuum, saw embers and large chunks of basalt explode into the sky. And then she realized what she was witnessing—a moment of birth such as she herself was experiencing, the very primal forces that had created Iceland, created Vanaheim—
"Tis a volcano erupting," she told her brother with fierce triumph. "Now we have no choice but to turn back—or else be boiled in the raging sea ahead of us."
This time Alain had no chance to protest. Hot cinders were already fluttering down around them, and Alain's kinsmen were frantically struggling to turn the boat against the monstrous waves slamming the vessel
The battle seemed interminable. Viktor chopped and lunged and swung and thrust, fighting desperately to make his way down the wharf to his ship, to go rescue his wife. Even as the path before him at last cleared, his sense of horror and terrible fear increased as he watched a river of fire spew into the sky on the distant southern horizon, while the ground continued to shudder beneath his feet—
Hearing crashing sounds, he whirled to see rocks and small boulders sail off the fell and crash toward the pier. A couple of warriors howled in pain as they were hit by the flying debris. The rumbling of the ground increased, and steam and ashes filled the air.
Dio, the entire landscape appeared like the end of the world. What in God's name was happening? Was Reyna sailing straight into the fires of Hel?
“'Tis a volcano erupting!" he heard Orm shout nearby.
Viktor realized the man was right. As the spewing of fire increased in the distance, the air grew acrid with the scent of cinders and ashes. A red glow crept over the wharf. Then a most curious thing happened. As the warriors of both sides became conscious of the calamity, they ceased fighting, one by one. Several even fell to their knees and faced the south, amid the stilt-roaring skies and trembling landscape.
A moment later, Viktor stood staring around him, stunned by the lull in the battle. "What has happened?” he asked Svein.
"The eruption is considered a sign from the gods," Svein explained. "The warriors believe the gods are displeased with the battle."
Viktor felt a momentary elation that surged to a blinding sense of relief when he saw Alain's vessel make its way back up the fjord, with Reyna standing at the rail. Thank God! His wife and child had been spared!
No one tried to stop him as he raced down the wharf to meet Reyna. Indeed, when Wolfgard lunged forward with his sword drawn, two of his own warriors restrained him.
Viktor was on the ship before the gangplank could even be extended. "Reyna!" he cried, then almost froze when he glimpsed her white, stricken face and saw the wetness on her dress between her thighs.
"My husband," she gasped, "I am having our child. Very soon, I think."
Viktor lifted his wife into his arms and proceeded steadily, quickly down the gangplank to the wharf. Warriors from both tribes moved aside as he bore Reyna off the pier and up the trail. His kinsmen fell into step behind them to discourage any aggression.
"No, my husband!" she cried halfway up the trail. "lam having our baby now."
Glancing directly overhead to make certain there were no loose rocks or boulders to threaten them, Viktor paused at a ledge and gently laid Reyna down. Sibeal emerged from her position behind some stunted willows and rushed over to join them. Viktor's kinsmen stood in a line facing the wharf to shield the birth.
Sibeal raised Reyna's skirts and gasped. "My lord, she is birthing now. You must turn away."
Viktor would have protested, but Reyna grasped his hands and spoke, staring into his eyes with utter love. "Nay, my husband will watch his son being born."
Tears filled Viktor's eyes at her gesture of unconditional trust and sharing. During the next moments, he actually hurt for Reyna as he listened to her cries and watched her push and strain to bring their baby into the world. At last he saw his son's tiny head push between his wife's thighs. He heard Reyna's primal cry at the moment of birth and felt with her both the pain and the incredible exultation.
A moment later, the squalling infant fell into Sibeal's hands. Using the small scissors from her brooc
h shaped like a key ring, she cut the cord and tied it off. After cleansing the child with the sleeve of her garment, she extended the naked infant to Viktor,
"My lord, do you accept your son?' she asked quietly.
"God, yes." Viktor removed his tunic and wrapped the infant in it, taking him in his arms. Emotion shook Viktor as he felt his son squirming and heard his lusty cries. The boy was perfect in every detail, his body beautifully shaped and plump, a crown of blond fuzz on his head. Viktor looked down at his bride, spotting the tears in Reyna's eyes and glorying in her expression of sublime happiness.
"Thank you, my love," he whispered.
He leaned over to kiss her lips, and they shared their bliss for a poignant moment.
Then Viktor stood with his son in his arms. Both the skies and the landscape surrounding him were calm now, with a spectacular red-gold dawn breaking, and he realized with awe that the volcano's eruption, and quaking of the ground, had ceased, the sun emerged, at the very moment of his son's birth, as if all the forces of God and nature had been brought into harmony. Glancing beneath him, he surveyed the Viking warriors of both camps, bowed in tribute and united at last. Here, finally, was the moment of his dream, the moment of his destiny. Clutching his tiny, beloved son close, he trembled with painful joy as he realized that in every way, he was home now ...
Tears rolling down his cheeks, Viktor held his newborn son high for all to see. "My comrades, may I present Eirik the Peacemaker, king of all the Vikings. Just as I have promised, he has come to bring all our peoples together. Go now, and let us make war no longer."
For a moment the warriors of both tribes appeared awed, transfixed. Then, slowly and peaceably, the men began to disperse, murmuring to one another in reverent tones about how Viktor had now won the day and settled the feud.
In the face of his warriors' retreat toward the wharf, Wolfgard sprang forward to confront his company, his sword waving, his face purple with rage. "Do not listen! Fight the whoreson! Do not let him sway you with his lies!"
But even as Wolfgard ranted and raved, his men ignored him and proceeded back to their vessel. After a moment more of futile ranting, Wolfgard, his features ashen with the finality of his own disgrace, sheathed his sword and joined the retreat.
In his father's arms, Eirik began to squall. Viktor knelt beside Reyna, placing the baby on her belly. As he looked on tenderly, she unfastened her garment and nestled the infant against her breast. At once Eirik suckled hungrily and quieted, and Viktor's heart twisted at the beautiful sight. At last he had the family of his dreams!
After Sibeal had cleaned up the afterbirth, Viktor gently lifted both wife and baby into his arms. Slowly and carefully, he carried his small family back toward his longhouse. By now sunlight was flooding the landscape—the dawning of his family's glorious destiny together.
After a lengthy moment, Reyna whispered, "I am sorry."
"Don't ever leave me again," he said fervently.
"Never!" came her fierce reply.
EPILOGUE
What are you doing, my husband?"
"I am designing our future home."
"You are tickling me."
"With the greatest pleasure."
Six weeks later, Reyna, Viktor, and Eirik were outside together not far from the longhouse, swinging in a hammock Viktor had designed and constructed between two stout beams dismantled from one of their war machines. He had built the hammock in large part as an outdoor cradle in which Reyna could rock and nurse her son. Eirik was a good-natured baby, but his occasional fretfulness was always soothed by moments like these. Often, Viktor could not resist joining his wife and son, especially now that peace had come to Vanaheim and he had many lovely, lazy days to spend with them.
The little family made an appealing portrait, arranged in spoon-style layers: first Viktor, with his wife on top of him, and then the baby nursing hungrily at her breast. On Reyna's now-flat stomach Viktor had laid a sheet of parchment, and with charcoal he was sketching his dream home—and tickling her
Beyond them, the tundra was vibrant with wildflowers. Seabirds soared overhead, making their way back to the coast. Viktor smiled as he caught sight of Ottar and Iva strolling together, hand in hand, just to the east. In honor of peace coming to Vanaheim and his son's birth, Viktor had freed all the slaves and given each family its own plot of land to work. Iva was now seventeen, and Viktor had finally consented for her to many Ottar. The ceremony would be held in early summer at the Shieling feast, on the first anniversary of his marriage to Reyna.
Smiling as he anticipated that day, he kissed Reyna's cheek and thought of how happy she had made him. And he could not be more pleased with Eirik—his golden son with his solid little body, wisps of blond hair, bright blue eyes, and eager, toothless smile. Already Viktor loved the child fiercely, and spent many happy moments walking on the tundra with Eirik in his arms.
Viktor missed his life in the distant future not at all. Eirik's birth had brought to realization his dream of his destiny for himself and Reyna, and had bound them both to the life they were meant to live together—a life of peace, harmony, and love.
"Tell me of this house," Reyna urged. "Tis most peculiar-looking."
"Well, it is an A-frame," he explained. "Lots of glass and wood. " At her frown, he added, "We shall have to go to Europe for the window glass, I imagine. Surely it has been invented. Anyway, we do need to secure seeds, cuttings, and saplings, to help improve our diet here on Vanaheim."
She nodded and scowled at the sketch. "Where is ... what do you call it? The chimney?"
He grinned. 'That's the beauty of it. We're going to build our house on the rise yonder"—he pointed—"over the hot spring. We'll warm the house with pipes heated by the spring. I've already discussed the forging of the metal tubing with Eurich. So, you see, there will be no need for a chimney. We shall have a totally smoke-free environment/'
"What of cooking?"
He frowned. "I've been thinking of that. Perhaps we should have a building separate from the main house."
"So I am to freeze when I fetch you your dinner?" she asked indignantly.
"I'll construct a breezeway."
She rolled her eyes.
He chuckled and resumed sketching. "Well, perhaps I should add at least one fireplace in the bedroom just for fun. Then you can heat up our dinner there on cold winter nights.'
"Yea—and you can heat up me," she teased.
Grinning, Viktor set down his charcoal and stroked Eirik's soft little fist, which was pressed against his mother's breast as he suckled lustily. "Reyna ..."
"Yes?" she said dreamily.
He nuzzled his cheek against her. "I'm so happy. Are you?"
She sighed. "Yea. I am happy that peace has come to Vanaheim. And though this may sound unkind, I am happy that Wolfgard died the night after the battle."
Viktor nodded. "His hatred poisoned him, as did his inability to accept the concept of reconciliation or peace. I really think it was his own malice that caused him to expire in his sleep."
"Good riddance," she said feelingly. "And I am glad that Alain returned to Loire without rancor, that he and I parted as friends. He even admitted that he was wrong to try to split our marriage asunder."
"Perhaps in time his attitude will change."
"I hope so."
Smiling tenderly, Viktor added, "We are meant to be together, Reyna. Just think—when you tried to leave me, it caused a volcanic eruption."
"Yea, but now your son has his own small island."
Viktor smiled. Like Vanaheim centuries before, the island of Eirikhelm had been born out of the boiling sea—and on the morn of his son's birth. Recently, Viktor and several of his kinsmen had sailed down to the small, craggy islet that had already become a haven for seabirds.
"Perhaps by the time our son is old enough to be taken to Eirikhelm, wildflowers will bloom there," Viktor mused aloud.
'The island will stand as a monument to our child, to the coming of peace on
Vanaheim—and to our love," Reyna declared feelingly.
"And to your never leaving me again?" Viktor asked with a touch of sternness.
She flashed him an apologetic smile. "I left because I thought I was saving our baby's life—and yours."
"I know, darling."
"And I left because you forbade me to go."
"Ah, so the rebellious warrior woman rises up again? "
She glowered at him.
"Well, maybe I was unyielding/' he admitted. "But I was frantic concerning your safety."
"Now I realize you were right," Reyna acknowledged humbly. "Right that the coming of our child would end the feud."
"I always believed in our dream," he said, "though I could understand your fear."
She stretched upward to kiss his handsome jaw. "I will not doubt you again."
He raised an eyebrow. "And will you obey me, like a good little wife?"
She uttered an indignant cry. "Never! Not as long as you order me around like your thrall—forbidding me this and forbidding me that."
He teased her soft neck with his lips. "My love, I will never again forbid you anything—as long as you promise never to fight battles or to try to leave me."
She wrinkled her nose at him. "But you are denying me my two greatest pleasures."
He feigned a wounded air. "You mean you enjoy leaving me?"
She giggled. "I love for you to come after me, Viking."
He sighed with pleasure and clutched her close. "Will you truly be content to stay here with me forever, milady?"
"Yea. Forever."
"You know, one day I'll take you and our children to visit Loire."
"Verily?" she cried with excitement. "And to Futuregard as well?"
He scratched his jaw. "My, I have no idea."
They fell into blissful silence, swinging to and fro and watching the baby nurse.
"He's asleep," Viktor murmured after a few moments, noting Eirik's precious expression as he dozed against his mother's breast.
"Yea ..." Shifting the infant slightly, Reyna retied her bodice, then leaned over to kiss his soft cheek. "He is happy, as we are."