Winter Solstice Winter - Book I in the Viking Blood Saga

Olav summoned Lucia to the throne room later that afternoon. Even though she did not want to go, she forced herself out of bed, knowing the consequences would be severe if she rebelled against her father’s commands. She was not queen yet, and so it would be wise to try and keep the peace—at least until her coronation day.

  Swollen-eyed and with a numb chest, she dressed in a black linen dress and went to meet her father.

  Arriving in the throne room, passing by the guards, she saw her father speaking with her Aunt Vilda and an elderly woman. They were standing at the bottom of the throne stairwell. It was the very place her mother had fallen.

  Do not think about Mother. Do not think about Mother.

  Beams of dust-filled light shone in through the stained-glass windows, illuminating three murals on the opposite wall. She knew the murals well, but studied them anyway in hopes it would distract her.

  The first mural depicted the universe as a giant ash tree, Yggdrasil, and its nine realms: Asgard, Alvheim, Vanaheim, Midgard, Muspelheim, Svartalvheim, Nivlheim, Jotunheim, and Helheim. Its branches extended high into the heavens and stood on three roots that extended into Urd’s well, Mime’s well and into the spring, Kverg. Three giantess Norns from Jotunheim sat spinning the threads of fate of humans and gods in front of the well of fate, Urd.

  The fierce dragon, Dreadbiter, slinked below the tree and fed off dead mortals that fell his way. Sol and Mani graced the sky, one pulling the sun, one the moon, across the heavens in their chariots. The rainbow bridge Bifrost connected Asgard to Midgard, allowing the gods to access the land of the humans when they desired.

  “It must be a Norse burial, with a human sacrifice, or Allfather Odin will release his wrath on Midgard,” she heard the elderly woman say. “Queen Maud needs help finding her way to Valhalla.”

  Mother! Mother! Tears welled up in her eyes at the mention of her name.

  The second mural depicted Ragnarok, Midgard’s final battle, when most men, darkelves, dwarves, and gods would be consumed by the gulf of non-existence. The sweltering red, fiery orange and charcoal black battle scene appeared to burn on the wall. Pained faces of nameless warriors battled the armies of the Empress of Darkness, Eiess. The three-year winter had beckoned in the wolf Skoll, who had devoured the sun, and his brother Hati, who had devoured the moon. In the corner a cock crowed, signaling that the final battle of Ragnarok had arrived.

  “Maud wanted a Christian burial,” Olav said. “But I agree, Odin and Thor will not be pleased if we worship this crucified god of hers. Her dying wish, though, was to be buried outside the Bergendal Stave Church, and that wish, I will honor.”

  “Olav, you must realize Maud is dead now, and you must be strong for her,” Vilda said, her fat-laden arms jiggling as she moved them. “She was wrong in thinking this new, feeble religion is true. You know that. I know that. All of Midgard knows that!”

  Lucia wiped the tears from her face, carefully studying the third mural, hoping that would magically make her forget her mother was no more.

  She is dead. She is dead. She is dead.

  The mural depicted the new world as it would appear after Ragnarok. Only a few living beings remained and stood by a waterfall, drinking from a fresh, flowing spring. One of them, her father had said, was the Great Sentinor.

  On several occasions, Olav had told Lucia that she was the Great Sentinor fated to lead the battle of Ragnarok. I am not her, she had always thought, every time he had mentioned it, and she certainly did not believe it now.

  “In case you have not noticed, the new faith is gaining many followers, Olav,” the elderly woman said. “I have even heard the Christian Bishop claim we are children of this God. The curse of Odin will fall on all of Midgard if you let these blasphemers continue, and if you bury Maud in Christian soil, you will be sending a very strong message that this type of worship is condoned by you as their King!”

  Vilda was panting as usual, her heavy chest moving with every breath. “And Olav, you do not want to be known as the King who failed in leading his people, and brought the wrath of the gods upon Midgard, do you?”

  Did my mother die because she betrayed Allfather Odin? Lucia wondered.

  “Lucia, come here,” Olav commanded.

  Lucia dragged her feet over to the bottom of the stairwell. At the top stood two golden thrones: one for her father and one for her mother.

  She had not entered the throne room since her mother had fallen, and standing here now, the memories started to come back to her. Maud had called Lucia into her chamber a few days after the accident. Lucia hardly recognized her mother with purple lips, and a pallid, sweaty face.

  “I want to prepare you for the next phase in your life,” Maud had said solemnly, resting in her bed, her hands caressing her swollen, pregnant belly. “As future queen of the Northlandic Kingdom, you have a great responsibility. The Aesira Jewel will soon be in your hands, and you must protect it with your life.” Maud had closed her eyes and moaned.

  The Aesira Jewel? “Are you all right, Mother?” Lucia had asked. “Should I go get someone for you?”

  “Not now, my love. Do you remember me speaking to you about your twin sister?” Maud had asked.

  “Yes.” Lucia remembered her mother telling her about her twin and how she had died at birth.

  “Her name means light, just like your name does.” Maud had grabbed Lucia’s hand. “I had a disturbing vision about you, Lucia. Great forces are seeking you. You will be given a choice that will have eternal consequences for you and your family. You must follow Christ, Lucia.”

  “What do you mean?” Lucia had asked. Her mother had not made much sense, and she definitely did not want to follow this White Christ if this was his way of rewarding his followers. She thought her mother’s new religion was bizarre and weak. Who could worship only one God? And she thought it was strange to believe that even a god could be all-knowing or good all the time. Lucia’s faith had many gods, more gods than she could even keep track of.

  “A choice must be made by you, and you alone,” her mother had said. “That choice, Lucia, is whether to do what is right, even when you think and know you have been wronged, or to deceive and selfishly take what is not yours.”

  “I will choose what is right,” Lucia had assured her. “You look unwell. Let me get Father.”

  “You choose your path, Lucia. Soren is not meant for you, but for another.” Maud had closed her eyes again and moaned. “Just remember…no matter what you choose, I will never love you any less.” Her breathing had become labored. “And remember, after Ragnarok, a new world will be born, and all the others will vanish. This is…the future.” Suddenly, Maud had begun to scream. She had grabbed her stomach as her body started contracting.

  “Mother! Mother!” Lucia had yelled, a rush of terror surging through her.

  Everything after that had been a blur, from when she had run to get her father, to when she had arrived back at the Queen’s Chamber and seen blood everywhere. Her father had shoved her back outside and left her alone to deal with her mother’s screams reverberating in the cold corridor.

  “I want to talk to my mother!” Lucia had begged. “I need to tell her something. What is happening? Please tell me.”

  “Lucia, Lucia, look at me, focus,” Astrid had said, coming out into the corridor.

  But Lucia had not been able to focus. She had not even been able to breathe. The only thing she had been able to do was run, run to her room and throw herself on her bed. After what seemed an eternity, Nora had finally come to her.

  She had sat up from clenching her tear-soaked silk pillow. “Is she all right?” She had seen the answer in Nora’s pained face.

  “Lucia!” she heard her father yell, his voice bringing her back to the present. “Sorry,” she said. I just want to disappear into oblivion.

  Olav clutched Lucia’s elbow and guided her over to the elderly woman. “This is Ada, the angel of death. She is the country’s most gifted burial sage. I have appointed her to arra
nge the funeral,” he said.

  Lucia twisted out of her father's painful grip.

  Ada was a sturdy old woman with one deep-set, beady eye. The old wench wore a black patch over the other eye, probably to conceal an injured or missing eyeball and she dressed in layers of black and red. Around her neck she wore a string of colorful glass beads and white bones, and she smelled of smoke.

  Frightened, Lucia thought Ada might be a sorceress or a demon, or quite possibly both in the form of a woman’s body.

  “You will follow Ada wherever she goes while she is here,” Olav said to Lucia in his usual stern voice.

  Lucia curtsied out of politeness although she wanted nothing to do with this woman. Se just wanted to be left alone.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, the future queen of the Northlandic Kingdom.” Ada’s voice sounded as husky as a man’s. She shuffled over to Lucia, her crooked cane beating the floor. “Our first assignment together, Lucia, will be to select a volunteer to usher Maud into the next life.” She turned to Olav. “When can you have the handmaidens and servants gathered?”

  “I will send for them immediately,” Olav said.

  * * *