The Swan, the Demon and the Warrior

By PEGUS

The phantom was not an intruder who had vanquished Nash and his bandits! The figure was not a mysterious man, disguised in a gown with a cowl but an unusual, beautiful and powerful girl. She had personified all that was gracious, wonderful and compassionate about womanhood.

Yet, she was an enigmatic and terrifying figure who practiced violent justice.

"Those who ascend mountains seeking pleasure must know, that peaks can be treacherous," said Jasmin quietly. "These lecherous men heinously soared to dizzying heights. They have fallen to perilous depths."

Flames flickered in her eyes as the blood of wicked men dripped from her incredible sword!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jun 13, 2012
• ISBN: 9781468586237

PEGUS

PEGUS is a tertiary graduate and a writer of fiction-fantasy, family drama and suspense thriller. He is a versatile musician and artist.

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© 2012 PEGUS. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 6/12/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4685-8564-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4685-8563-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4685-8623-7 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

For

Tasha

And her cygnet brood

Hamish

And

Jasmin

I am Yahweh of the Hebrew

Ngai of the Kikuyu

Trinity of the Hindu

Brahma, Shiva and Vishnu

When Fire and Ice combined in infernal cauldrons and Hell stirred with flames of evil and injustice

I

Ymir,

Of the Norse,

Created you

Håmüs

Contents

Legend

The Legend, Grief and Despair of Gullvieg

Deceit

A Monastic Tragedy

In Unfathomable Grief

To Balance a Scale

The Hunt

Retribution

The Black Swan

The Bosom of Humanity

The Desert Has a Soul

Intrusion

A Beginning

Toward Destiny

Heartbeats

To Crush a Flower

Champa-Desh

The Seige

Origins

The Ugliness of Beauty

The Dreaming

Desert Justice and Immortality

In the Terror of a Desert Night

Hate

Visions

Desert Justice

Immortality

Confrontation

Reckoning

O Fateful Day

The Return

An Act of Concern

The Road To Destiny

Reflection

Insights

Tyresö

Acknowledgements

Legend

A beautiful Swan sat among some rushes, her elongated neck arched in a poetic manner as she observed her two cygnets with loving care. The cygnets were not mortal birds, created merely to propagate the species.

In the glow of a magical spring night, when all other creatures hushed to silence, the swan beheld a Vision that dimmed the full moonlight to an insignificant illumination. It spread its wings wide and embraced the energy that flowed from within the Vision. The swan shut its eyes and lowered its head in veneration. The power and glory of the Creator God filled its soul.

The Creator bestowed blessings on it that mortal creatures could not aspire to, the Divine entrusting the swan with the care of two heavenly cygnets. Their souls were of celestial origin.

One of the two cygnets was the eternally beloved of the Creator God. In the silence and prettiness of the star dominated night, the swan heard a Voice.

‘I am Ymir, of the Norse’

A few days later, the swan, eternal mother to two divine lives, accepted the gifts of the Creator God. Looking towards the heavens, it swore to fulfil responsibilities entrusted to it and to guard the cygnets with its life.

The Creator God named the swan Gullvieg. It metamorphosed into human form and she assumed the rank of Queen to the Nordic clans.

The cygnets grew into beautiful swans, a male that was white and a female that was black.

On a subsequent night when the moon concealed itself shyly behind clouds and stars glowed, in joyous veneration, the Vision appeared again.

The white male cygnet swam out to the middle of the lake. Its waters reflected the Light of the Creator God in waves of silvery streaks. The mother, Queen Gullvieg of the Nordic clans, spread her wings wide and appeared as an angelic apparition. Together with her female cygnet, she observed with deep respect as the Vision spoke to the male.

You are the breath of the Divine and your soul is immortal.

Serve your Maker.

The young swan lowered its head, touching the surface of the water. It spread its wings wide and with extreme humility accepted the trust of the Creator God.

For all eternity, it would be a faithful servant to the Divine.

The Legend, Grief and Despair of Gullvieg

***Some myth spoke of a female swan that waited with eternal patience for its immortal cygnet to be reborn, in human bodily form. Even though, the swan had survived annihilation, she remained forever shunned by the gods and beyond the finality of death***

Some said a legendary queen of the Norse, Gullvieg, was once a swan. She had vanished from mortal life in grief and utter despair and never seen again. Of her two cygnets, one, in human bodily form, died a tragic and ghastly death. As she waited in the darkness of her grief, seeking forgiveness from Nordic gods, Gullvieg lamented inconsolably. The death of the cygnet was a consequence of her carelessness.

Her cygnet was a human embodiment of the eternally beloved of the Creator God.

Gathering her other cygnet, a female, under her wings, Gullvieg descended into the waters of the lake at Tyresö, in the lands of the Norse and into the depths of an infernal and terrifying abode. There, she remained, to grieve. The divinities of the Norse punished her in perpetuity for the loss of the cygnet. Gullvieg could not forgive herself either!

Legend had it that certain people heard Gullvieg wailing and singing mournfully in the voice of a lamenting swan as she flew above the waters of lakes and rivers. Some said she glided the waters of Nordic seas calling the name of her cygnet, her tormented voice inviting the elements to grieve with her. The echo of his eternal name, Håmüs, rebounded off rocks and bounced on the surface of water, wave upon wave until lakes, rivers and seas made the environs shudder with despair.

The wind repeatedly whistled the name of Håmüs, in torment and agony and tossed it randomly in despair. The legend recalled that the grief of Gullvieg was such that rocks melted, trees withered on hearing her sing and solid ice shattered into fragments as they grieved with her. The elements behaved in anguish when Gullvieg emerged from the cavernous depths of a terrifying and torturous abode, to give vent to her sadness.

Winds howled and thunder roared like a wounded beast as the earth trembled with Gullvieg in despair.

Lightning started forest fires with her rage as she lamented her lost cygnet. Gullvieg, the legend said, could never die as a mortal entity! She was condemned; to forever exist in shadowy regions, travelling between life and the obscure regions of unachievable mortal death.

It was the anger of her gods that prolonged her damned existence; the depths of her sorrow sustained her as a mother. For Gullvieg, there was no escape! She existed for all eternity in vague timelessness, occasionally seeing her cygnet when her gods took pity on her. When it appeared as a human, she could never touch Håmüs; the gods would withdraw that meagre privilege if she attempted to do so. The legend said, in her grief she had grown in strength and acquired the powers of a real god! However, the truth of that remained a mystery and people feared her name.

She could change the environment around her by sheer will! When her cygnet was born and reborn in human form she could transform winter into spring and spring into full summer. When it incarnated, Gullvieg isolated it from the world to celebrate its company, as she no longer trusted humans. When she grieved in his absence, she had the power to reverse the seasons, turn glorious summer into ravaging winter and command the elements to mourn with her.

The legend said that she persisted in the shadows of existence for revenge and not for justice!

She pleaded with Nordic gods, not to allow the perpetrators of an unspeakable crime, escape into the comfort of mortal death. She pleaded for their existence in mortal human form for all eternity if necessary. The gods considered her request, for a grievous harm had occurred.

For all that, Gullvieg could never be continuously, or forever, with her cygnet. Only in periods of transition between one life and the next could she acknowledge it. She could not reveal to him her full identity, unless the gods granted her permission.

For its protection, the cygnet would never acknowledge her as its Mother.

She took comfort in the company of her female cygnet as the gods had immortalised it. The female cygnet could trace the various lives of its nestling and follow the first, a male, wherever it travelled in physical or spiritual form. Gullvieg remained forever imprisoned to the lands of her creation as punishment for her carelessness. She could not penetrate defined physical borders in bodily form.

The gods however, had been considerate! She could travel through time and history, in spirit form, protecting her cygnets from annihilation as a service to the gods. The female cygnet could accompany her mother, Gullvieg, on a soulful search within restricted boundaries. Unlike her mother, she, the black swan, could follow her brother, life after life, each time he was born in human form, as Håmüs.

Deceit

(The Fall of Gullvieg)

It was the autumn of 792 A.D.

Gullvieg allowed three young men who had recently returned from the continent entry to her palatial domain.

Tall, elegant and regal, her pale skin touched with a suggestion of pink, her light blonde hair arranged in methodical manner on top of her head, she appeared by every measure, a queen. Gullvieg, endowed with the blood of humans and the spirit of the gods appeared as a majestic figure.

Being uncertain of their mission, she preferred the three young men to wait. Eventually, the protocols of Viking norms having been satisfied, she greeted them with polite dignity. Though not very refined, they were nonetheless polite, reasonably well mannered and accorded her customary respect due to her.

The young men introduced themselves as Toren, Ulf and Grünth.

Håmüs her son, they had known was a fearless soldier and had proved in the eyes of many to be a leader of men. They desired to meet with her son, they said, to accompany them on a mission to the land of the Britons and Anglo-Saxons.

When ice did not melt and snow covered the land in spring, crops did not grow. The clans needed productive land. Håmüs was diplomatically skilled. He had engaged in strategic roles to help secure foreign soil for the people. It was their intention, the three young men stated, to seek the renowned abilities of her son. Their mission was to appropriate territory on the lands of the ancient Britons and the Anglo Saxons by peaceful means. The Anglo Saxons, they said, were friends.

The Britons assured Toren, Ulf and Grünth, invited northern clans and were prepared to establish relations in trade beneficial to all. A brief previous social encounter resulted in establishing friendly relations with Lord Håmüs.

Håmüs, at the given time and in the company of his sister Astrid, was attending a trade mission on the mainland. Gullvieg adored her children, her entire life devoted to their welfare. She regarded strangers in her household with a modicum of suspicion and young men, with no verifiable background, required a cautious approach.

However, they were charming, polite and respectful; there seemed insufficient reasons to believe their purposes to be anything else but honourable. The concepts were reasonable and Gullvieg was prepared to accept their explanations.

At a young age, her handsome son, Håmüs offered potential as among the luminaries and legends of Valhalla, a haven for the warriors of the Norse. He was a young man of twenty-three summers, proud in bearing, powerfully built and much admired by the young and elders of the clan for his unrivalled skills. He had a commanding voice that resounded with confidence.

His amber eyes were penetrating, large and doe shaped as his laughter was infectious. When he arched his brow, others were mesmerised by him. He was tall and impressive in stature and every movement of his body exuded the form of a born leader.

As a child, he filled the hearts of others with rapture; as a young person, he inspired others with courage and decency. When at war, he treated his enemy with respect, after he had subdued his adversary. In this way, he earned the respect of those who loved him and those who hated him equally, as much.

Gullvieg had seen her young son set sail on Drekas, long ships with dragonheads. People followed Håmüs to distant foreign shores, where, he distinguished himself in various ways. Håmüs was fearless in combat, generous and reasonable in negotiations with elders and barbarians, and admirably steeped in the concepts of duty and honour.

Håmüs had often returned home with gifts acquired by peaceful means. He brought with him knowledge of a flourishing set of beliefs in one god and a strange and curious accounting of a life in the hereafter. They were beliefs not in keeping with Nordic pagan philosophy or rituals; yet, these beliefs inspired him to consider the existence of a Creator God in many forms.

His tempestuous and vivacious sister Astrid, yet a minor by age, regularly accompanied Håmüs on missions as a young noblewoman, Princess Alva, secretly doted on him. Some said Princess Alva was besotted with Håmüs.

Gullvieg conducted a disciplined and happy home; she did not entertain disruptions in her way of life. The gods had blessed her with exceptional gifts and rewarded her with children who many wondered if they were of divine origin. Some said Gullvieg regularly communicated directly with the gods of the Norse; they chose her, whispers abounded, for exceptional purposes in life.

The enormous lake and the impenetrable forest dominated her surroundings.

The unexpected appearance of three young men alerted her to some aspects of their visit as being extraordinary. Gullvieg had expected older and wiser heads. Nonetheless, she treated them with respect though, with some caution. They, she considered generously, were young men and sons of other women, as Håmüs was hers. As well, they had approached her with requests that she could turn down and not demands, which had to be acceded. The younger generations needed to learn the art of diplomacy, just as Håmüs had. Gullvieg, though not overly generous with the young men, was nonetheless considerate.

The young men informed her that the mission was in the near future, during winter months. The intervening period would allow Håmüs sufficient time to accept or refuse the request. They assured her that the choice was entirely his.

Gullvieg conveyed the message to Håmüs on his return. However, she insisted, out of maternal intuition, should he accept and when he left, she would depart separately with a small entourage and wait for him on the Isle of Thanet. Håmüs objected lightly to her company. His mother pleaded with dignity that it was no more than a precautionary measure and that it allowed her to be near him. Håmüs laughed and surrendered to his mother’s suggestion. As he stepped aside, out of her sight, he rolled his eyes to the heavens and grinned. It was customary of him not to refuse her suggestions.

During conversations with his mother, Queen Gullvieg, Håmüs could not recall having encountered persons by the names of Toren, Ulf and Grünth. The kingdom conveyed messages in respect of the invitations. Even though some misgivings surfaced, he consented to meet with the three men at an allotted time and place in the winter.

They remained respectfully in wait for him, having arrived before, as the snow fell heavily about and the wind howled an uncanny breath. The young men were ecstatic that he should have come; they promised him an adventure that would set the name of the Viking in history. As to their assertion that they had met before, they were sorry; they admitted to having uttered untruths out of necessity. There seemed no other way for them to meet with a person of royal heritage. Cautiously, Håmüs accepted the explanations offered.

It was to be a peaceful mission, the young men promised. It required delicate negotiations and other associated skills that they, unlike Håmüs, simply did not possess.

Toren, Ulf and Grünth had heard of his interests in the new religion of the Angles and the people of Saxony on the continent. None other, than he, would be more acceptable to the hosts because of his religious leanings. Negotiations could be beneficial to the Viking in trade and crops. Their propositions seemed overtly reasonable and Håmüs, though not entirely convinced by their demeanour, tentatively conceded to accompanying them.

The house of the new God was a monastery named after a devout follower, Saint Cuthbert. Successful outcomes were necessary to have the names of all four, Håmüs, Toren, Ulf and Grünth, engraved in religious history, they enticed.

Håmüs listened with intent; he was uncertain of their motives and not entirely persuaded that they particularly needed his services. Nonetheless, he saw merit in their quest and eventually acknowledged and accepted their invitation, much to the delight of all three.

Some locals in Northumbria and Britons, in the land of the Anglo Saxons, Ulf warned, were hostile; weapons were essential, though merely as a precaution; they promised that not a sword drawn or an arrow shot in confrontation would tarnish the main objectives of the mission. 

A Monastic Tragedy

(Lindisfarne)

Drekas were warships, having sixteen rowers on each side with colourful and decorative shields arrayed along gunwales. There were three familiar young men in the company of many others; they were high-spirited to the point of being belligerent and raucous. Aware of his martial skills and personal status, they treated Håmüs with due respect. He had left behind his sword, his name engraved on it, that he affectionately called The Eternal Weapon.

The knörr were merchant ships regularly used for trade purposes. It seemed strange to Håmüs! He had expected to be sailing on the knörr class of vessels and not on Drekas, warships. The Viking sailed in waters where Anglo Saxons, with their deeper draft vessels, could not reach.

The year was 793 A.D., the day being the eight of the first month of that year. English waters in the winter of that day, in that year, were turbulent. The skies roared with thunder. Lightning struck the seas and land as dragonhead ships approached off the coast of Northumbria.

Håmüs was surprised, that for invited guests, there appeared no greeting party to meet with them. Perhaps, the weather was not promising and upon landing, there would be people who would emerge from unsighted dwellings.

A solitary figure approached in the distance as the vessels of the Norse beached in knee-deep waters. The lone host was shielding himself against the howling wind, his head covered with a hood. He was dressed in a garb that descended to his ankles, tied loosely by a string around the midriff. Håmüs observed that he carried nothing but a leather bound book held close to his chest, as though out of deep respect for its contents.

A solitary representative of the house of Saint Cuthbert had set out to greet them.

It was a tragic mistake that would reverberate through history!

Håmüs expected to be the first to meet with the representative and not made to stay on board the ship. His muted protests brought him scant attention and he was compelled to follow directions set out by others. Then, as he observed from a distance, three Norsemen, Toren, Ulf and Grünth, on meeting the solitary figure, spoke briefly to the man. It appeared that negotiations had quickly broken down.

They forcefully dragged the solitary representative into the water and drowned the man!

Håmüs was disturbed! The negotiations, asserted some on board, had not progressed in the desired manner and the representative was a hostile man. It seemed to Håmüs it was the very purpose his presence was desired. He believed his skills were required to deal with situations that would appear uncompromising. As well, Håmüs could see, the representative was alone and did not carry any threatening weapons except his leather bound book.

Helmets of war were not required, yet, disembarking sailors wore them, carrying axes and other deadly weapons, ready for use. Håmüs, having come ashore, wore clothing for purposes of the weather as he walked under gloomy skies.

Is it the house of Saint Cuthbert? he asked, feeling helpless and confused, pointing in the distance as he did to a dwelling that seemed well constructed. It was large enough to house many men. The Viking designed long houses for similar purposes and in some houses, entire communities could live. However, the house of the murdered devout person, strongly built with masonry and granite, would endure through historical times.

There were men and women, skilled and deadly warriors all of them, in the party of the Viking. The men laughed and sang in an unruly manner as they marched towards the building in the distance.

It’s a monastery, shouted someone triumphantly as though he had sufficient information about forthcoming exploits.

It’s called Lindisfarne, bellowed someone else as the mob grew unruly with the passing of moments. They wear loose peasants’ clothing with hoods and cowls and braided strings around the middle. They consult holy books all day about their God. There is silver and gold and treasures so bold and all for the taking.

Our taking, corrected another raucously.

Howls of laughter and cries of unheard avarice resounded in the bleakness of the surrounds.

Precious gems, too, beyond belief, in boxes and crates! A warrior announced in impassioned anticipation.

Alarmed, Håmüs ran in front of the unruly Viking horde and turning around, held his hands out wide. This, he realised, was no peaceful mission requiring negotiations. His presence as a person of royal descent offered legitimacy to an unholy operation! He could not allow such a venture to proceed. Such acts, he knew, would defame his people and his family.

Stop this act of evil! he commanded, roaring at them in his commanding voice. If a monastery, then it is a house of God. We must not enter with wicked intent. We must not commit acts of infamy here.

They stopped, though with howls of protest riotously directed at him. Three men approached. Toren, Ulf and Grünth walked towards him as lightning struck and thunder shook the land. They appeared regretful though unwaveringly determined.

Lord Håmüs, announced Toren, almost politely. We tried to speak to the monk. We told him there was an emissary on board the ship, meaning you, who could discuss certain matters with him. He would not listen! He shook his head as he exclaimed in disbelief.

Why? Håmüs demanded disbelieving him, as grave misgivings commenced to surface. Why would he not listen?

The drowned man said, Ulf tried to assure Håmüs unconvincingly, shrugging his shoulders as he did, that the monks had led bad lives and the people of Lindisfarne had gone against the will of their God.

However, roared Grünth contemptuously for others to hear, the monk believed that their God could not have sent us to punish the monks and the people. We were nothing but intruders on land that did not belong to us!

"We have not arrived to perform deeds assigned to us by their God! exclaimed Toren in anger. We have arrived on invitation sent to us by our pagan gods carried on the wings of ancient demons!"

Håmüs glared at him in anger. It was not what they had said to him on meeting them for the first time.

Their God, said the drowned monk, was a god of peace; warmongers, such as us, not invited to stay! exclaimed Ulf with discontent. He said we should turn and go back to where we came from. Ulf laughed in a disdainful and disbelieving manner as others within hearing joined with him similarly. We are not intruders, he howled, but bearers of ancient rituals and beliefs, much superior to theirs! Our gods, he claimed, are superior to their lone God!

Yes, agreed Toren, as did Grünth, nodding approval.

The drowned man believed, bellowed Toren, that they, the monks, would have to repent by repeating prayers and mending their ways. The intervention of the Viking was not required.

Howls of protest followed this announcement as others listened intently from a respectful distance.

I, Toren, believe, he shouted, addressing the Viking, their God has been in communication with our Viking gods. Why else would we be here? After all, gods do communicate among themselves, don’t they?

Just as people do, agreed Ulf.

Even just as people do, joined Grünth.

Followers laughed, howled, shouted and agreed. Our gods have sent us to punish them for having led bad lives, shouted Toren, and to transfer all their worldly goods to us for safe keeping.

There was a roar of laughter and there were few who did not agree with Toren.

Håmüs was incensed. The Viking had arrived with greed and lust for blood.

We must not desecrate the house of God, shouted Håmüs in equally a strong voice as Toren. If we need land for our people, somewhere to sow and graze our livestock, then it seems there is enough here for them to share with us. Let us negotiate with them, he pleaded.

There was stunned and disapproving silence as grumbling occurred in some quarters. However, they had not crossed seas, negotiating raging waters for someone to dissuade them by the voice of reason.

I agree, cried Toren mockingly. Let us kill them first and then it will be much easier to negotiate. What, I ask you, could be simpler than that?

They laughed and supported him as Toren raised his double-edged axe and flailed it threateningly at Håmüs. Toren had made an error. He had committed an act of threat against the most magnificent of warriors amongst his own.

In a blink of an eye, Håmüs snatched the seax, a short sharp war knife, worn around the waist of Ulf. He slashed Toren’s face from his right ear across his nose, the wound extending to his left ear. With a fist, he hit Toren, breaking his nose in the mid section, knocking the bleeding man to the ground. Toren’s face, covered with blood, he spluttered, coughed and stumbled as he stood up. It was sheer humiliation in the eyes of people of his ilk, who had followed him for reasons of greed and innocent blood.

It was unlikely the scars of his encounter with Håmüs would ever disappear!

He is not Toren, but Traitoren. He is a traitor to our people, the Norse, cried Håmüs in a commanding and angry voice. We are warriors and negotiators, not savages. If we fight, we fight with honour against enemies who can defend themselves; people dressed in peasants’ clothes, carrying books in their hands, cannot war with us! They approach us as individuals because they have trust in us. Consider why you are here! he implored.

They were disgruntled and not listening to him. Toren was steadily on his feet, blood dripping from his face.

It is you who are the enemy, he shouted, glaring viciously at Håmüs as blood covered his face. You have stood up against your own, he accused. For that you will die; royalty or no royalty.

A female warrior sprang out from their midst and stood beside Håmüs.

I am Ynghildr, she cried. I have been a commandant under Lord Håmüs on many an occasion. His Highness, Lord Håmüs is right and you must acknowledge him, she said, pointing to Håmüs. "Toren speaks in tones of treason. If we fight, we fight warriors, not men of peace. The Viking is not a coward! You are not cowards, she cried passionately, surveying the mob. We came here to negotiate for land for our people, not to war against pious men."

Then why is it that you, a warrior, are here? someone challenged Ynghildr. Precisely what has lured you here if it is not untold rewards?

I came on invitation as I was told that Lord Håmüs would attend, she replied confidently.

A number of female warriors, inspired by the leadership and courage of Ynghildr, came and stood beside Håmüs; they were badly outnumbered. His persona fascinated females in times of peace, as they were attracted to him in times of war. Men would not join him, as they envied him for many reasons. He had few if any male friends even though they grudgingly admired him for outstanding personal skills. Women followed in droves at the sound of his name.

I am Arnbjörg, personified eagle fighter and blessed by the gods of the Norse. I stand beside Lord Håmüs, cried a female warrior in support, waving her weapons in the air as though her hands were wings.

Svanhilda! cried another. I will fight to the death in support of Lord Håmüs. She waved terrifying weapons though there were many like them amongst the rabble.

Another female warrior sprang with alacrity to his side, adoration drooping from her eyes. If you harm Lord Håmüs, she threatened, you first harm me, Ulva the Wolf and blessed as well by the gods of the Norse.

They laughed at Ulva and a warrior lunged at her with contempt, his axe raised in the air. Before he could bring the axe down Ulva snatched his throat with her jaws and pierced his heart with a knife. The man fell back and others retreated at the sight of the victim.

A powerful female joined them. She was taller and muscular than most men were.

I am Pernilla, she announced quietly with an undeniable threat in her voice. Any who dare touch a single hair of Ulva deals with the terror of my swords and axes. I, too, stand beside Lord Håmüs in many ways.

My name is Futura, declared another female sagaciously. I have visions into the future as Nordic gods have granted me enviable gifts in life. All I see is shame and humiliation for all those who participate in this terrible venture. You will defame the good name of the Viking forever. The rewards you achieve you will squander in time. However, the memory of what you are about to engage in will forever haunt the minds of humans. Step aside from this act of infamy! I shamelessly admit to being here on hearing that Lord Håmüs would attend.

Håmüs raised his hands in the air in an act of surrender. Throw down your weapons and follow me in peace, he pleaded with them. There is no justification for spilt blood, unless the act is in defence of one’s self. We have not been attacked and it is wrong to violate the principles of peace.

They were hungry for loot and led by a treacherous person, were in no mood to listen to reason. With blood streaming down his face, the traitorous Toren led the majority of Viking into the monastery.

As Håmüs and his loyal companions observed helplessly and in despair, the followers of Toren dragged defenceless monks, screaming in fear, from within the monastery and hacked them to death. Those that survived the bloody massacre the Viking dragged to the water and rapidly drowned them.

They emerged with untold holy treasures, donated by poor and rich people to the monastery of Lindisfarne and carried them away to the knörr vessels, howling and laughing in dastardly merriment.

All that Håmüs and his female warrior companions could do was to observe in shame and horror.

***

The Viking did not raid for blood and pleasure; they were not savages. The events of January the eight, in the year 793 A.D., would stain the glorious name of the Viking as a people with the blood of innocents. There were those that stood against the massacre! History would unkindly record that the acts of a few were sufficient to condemn an entire people.

Toren had said that their works would become part of history. He had not said that for his murderous deeds the Viking would forever be damned, in the minds of future generations. The descendants of good people would forever liken the Viking to savages and wild people.

***

Near the knörr, the merchant vessel, onto which the raiders deposited loot, was a single square-rigged sail ship. Sailing close to the wind Håmüs and his companions could row during adverse weather conditions and escape the horror of Lindisfarne.

Gullvieg, his mother, would be waiting on the Isle of Thanet. She had promised to meet him there. He would seek refuge on the Isle until they could all sail back to peaceful Nordic lands. Håmüs and his small band of loyal women were required to distance themselves, away from murderous men and the treachery of Toren.

The seas were in turmoil, the wind howled and roared as if, the souls of innocent monks were crying out for justice.

It was a treacherous voyage and negotiated with great skill, dexterity and eventually, with diminishing energy. By the time Håmüs and his band of loyal female followers set foot on the Isle of Thanet, none had enough reserve energy in store to stay on their feet. They stumbled about, at times falling on the ground in sheer exhaustion.

Gullvieg had come prepared though not prepared enough for unforeseen tragic occurrences. She had not considered transporting Håmüs’ friends as a matter of urgency.

He was emotionally distraught, horrified and physically too tired to discuss the terror of Lindisfarne. As his band of loyal women slept in spare tents, Håmüs fell asleep in the single tent of his mother, Gullvieg, the Queen.

She stayed awake watching lovingly over him, believing the weather and poor conditions were responsible for his fatigue. She remained blissfully unaware of occurrences at Lindisfarne. None had bothered to approach her, as they believed Lord Håmüs would inform her immediately or in due course.

Håmüs slept soundly. Worn out in body he needed to distance his mind in the oblivion of sleep and temporarily forget the horrors committed at the monastery. The night was raging outside; the unstable and legendary, forever shifting soil of the Isle of Thanet was not a hospitable place in the dead of winter. Gullvieg had chosen the Isle to grant Håmüs freedom from her immediate presence and yet retain access to the sea. She had arrived with small ships and other vessels carrying supplies and temporary needs.

Not long after, as the wind howled and a violent storm raged, two men, Ulf and Grünth, whom Gullvieg had previously met and a number of others, respectfully sought permission to enter the tent. Curiously, they were armed and appeared not to be weary as Håmüs was.

However, Håmüs was asleep and not to be disturbed. The men whispered about the weather and offered Gullvieg a drink. She politely declined; the men insisted, assuring her that negotiations at Lindisfarne had concluded well and a minor celebration was in order. Her participation in convincing Håmüs to attend had been crucial, they insisted.

To their surprise, she seemed unaware of the truth; it suited their purposes well as they had arrived in anticipation of a confrontation. All seemed well to the Nordic Queen, as her son was safe and his friends had arrived to celebrate. Having accepted, within moments she was drowsy and falling over; she lay on her side. Gullvieg was unconscious and would not wake until the next morning.

***

Her role exceeded that of a mortal mother! Gullvieg, a Nordic Queen, was an eternal swan in human form. Her creation was an act of Divine deliberations, to perform sacred duties on earth. Ymir, the God of the Norse created Håmüs, her son, a divine entity in human form; she was forever to be his earthly mother and heavenly guardian.

However, Gullvieg had been negligent in not summoning his Fylgia, his godly companion spirit; an absolute responsibility entrusted to her by Ymir, the Creator God. In her physical or spiritual absence, it was the duty of the Fylgia to care over her divinely created son. Mortal men had overcome the Nordic Queen by their cunning and astonishingly, Gullvieg had fallen prey to such cunning. She had abandoned the fate of her son to deceitful and murderous rogues, knowing her heart did not trust them and her mind cautioned her.

In the eyes of her Maker, Gullvieg had betrayed her child.

The following morning, Gullvieg would discover that she had committed an act of gross negligence. The consequences of her neglect would be severe punishment, of dimensions that penetrated the barriers of eternity, inflicted on her by Divine powers.

***

The wind had died down and the sea was calm. During the night some land had been reclaimed by the sea and the Isle of Thanet was reduced in size. The waters were lapping not far from the tent in which Gullvieg slept.

The queen awoke to a strange morning. She was not in control of her senses and her head hurt. There were voices coming from outside her tent; they were subdued and the speakers sounded frightened.

She lifted the flap of the tent and stumbled outside to an eerie dawn. In search of Håmüs, she could only find her distressed attendants. They were afraid; some were frowning and casting furtive and accusing looks in her direction. She looked out to sea and could only see one small boat, the rest of her vessels having disappeared. Gullvieg became aware of something being untoward and re-entered her tent. Håmüs was decidedly missing!

Some men had been seen entering Gullvieg’s tent in the turmoil of the night, her followers informed her. They had left with Håmüs, who seemed unsteady on his feet. There were Drekas, war ships, out to sea on the night before. They dragged him onto a smaller boat and then rowed out to a nearby Dreka. Ynghildr, Håmüs’ loyal commandant, coming out of her tent had protested; her words duly ignored. Håmüs, though not fully in control of his senses, assured her that he would be safe. However, Ynghildr was not satisfied. There seemed no reason for him to leave at night in the company of men who had shown scant regard for his advice at Lindisfarne. Her female warrior companions, emerging in confusion out of their tents, wondered why Lord Håmüs did not resist or protest. Håmüs was a renowned warrior as well a practical young man. They agreed hurriedly, he considered the safety of people camped out on the Isle of Thanet and preferred to have the murderous men drawn away from his mother and her followers. It appeared as an act of sacrifice or uncharacteristically for him, foolhardiness. Perhaps he was aware of consequences beyond their understanding. Yet, there were no signs of Gullvieg on that night in protest or agreement; it seemed strange!

The female warriors waited to observe. Nevertheless, they were unwilling to enter the queen’s tent. Gullvieg was the Queen and his mother. In company with Håmüs within the tent, prior to a possible abduction, none dared to question her of Håmüs’ departure with the men.

The band of evil men had waved their hands in friendly gestures. They dragged Håmüs unceremoniously by his shoulders. Laughingly, they said he was intoxicated following celebrations within the tent. Strangely, none had heard noises of celebrations coming from within Gullvieg’s tent. They assured Ynghildr and her female warriors that Håmüs had changed his mind about events he had rejected at Lindisfarne. He needed care and to participate in further celebrations on board the ship.

Toren’s men returned and invited Håmüs’ loyal female companions on board to keep him company. The female warriors, at first, refused. A small discussion ensued amongst them and concern dominated their thoughts about Lord Håmüs; eventually, submitting to the suggestions and demands of the unruly men.

Not surprisingly, Håmüs was not on board and if he was, the location was secret. The young women insisted on his presence and verbally berated their deceitful hosts. Being ignored they then pleaded for the son of Gullvieg; they were laughed at by Ulf and Grünth. Frustrated and angered by the lack of cooperation by roguish men, they demanded his return back to the camp on the Isle of Thanet.

A slaughter followed! The men of Toren, Ulf and Grünth were numerous, heavily armed, treacherous and callous. The daring and loyalty of young females were unacceptable to cowardly men. They did not hesitate to raise sword against women of their own people. The murderers ensured that the remains of loyal women vanished into the dark waters of the sea forever.

Negotiations in Northumbria, Gullvieg was informed in fragments by terrified attendants, as they did not know all the details, were not as he had expected. Toren’s men misled Håmüs about the intentions and truth at the monastery! He had tried everything possible to prevent wanton murder and the loot of Lindisfarne though to no avail.

Gullvieg was distraught! Assumptions were drawn by some of her attendants; they had overheard conversations between loyal women. Toren had made terrible promises in acts of revenge. He now appeared to be the kind of person who would not hesitate to carry them out!

There were no ships out to sea. The abductors of her son had vanished out of sight. Gullvieg hastily sailed back home in the small boat left behind. The voyage home was an ordeal as the boat was not for long distance sailing. Nevertheless, Gullvieg with a bare number of attendants arrived home safely. On arriving back and in desperation, she searched and inquired, sending scouting and investigating parties in search of Toren and his followers.

The young men whom she had trusted were nowhere. The looters it seemed had disappeared with their booty off the face of the earth. None had seen nor heard of Håmüs!

It was deep winter and all that the Nordic Queen could do was wait and hope. Then, one morning, precisely six hundred and sixty six days after the disappearance of Håmüs, as she strolled in misery by the frozen lake, in the company of her young daughter Astrid, she saw a skin clad figure in the distance by the shore. It was difficult to ascertain if the person was a man or woman. Astrid waved hopefully and energetically at the figure who commenced walking in their direction. Any information from any source was acceptable. It was an act of desperation as much as it was a plea.

The stranger was a male person of bedraggled appearance, middle of age with a lengthy dark beard and unkempt and scraggly hair. His arms, knees and upper legs were bare; however, heavy animal skins covered his feet. He carried a long walking stick in his hand as some form of authority rather than a physical aid. On seeing the royal personages, he bowed his head low and allowed his walking stick to fall on the ground.

A god spoke to me, he said hesitatingly on nearing them, unsteady on his feet, nervously interlacing his fingers, as he was terribly uncomfortable in their presence.

Gullvieg arched her eyebrow in a dismissive manner, sighed audibly in exasperation and prepared to walk away. Though a charitable person by nature, she was not disposed to extending alms at that moment. Observing the manner in which Gullvieg, her queen and mother turned away, Astrid motioned the man to leave. She regretted having attracted his attention and threw some coins at him.

I have been given a choice by the gods, he persevered, ignoring the coins at his feet, to reveal to you, Queen Gullvieg, the fate of your son and forever live as an immortal by this lake.

Gullvieg spun around! Her eyes were wide, her manner desperate, pleading and hopeful.

I have another choice given to me by gods, said the skin clad man, his voice trembling.

What? Gullvieg demanded in observable irritation. What are these mysterious choices you speak of? I command you make sense!

The man trembled in her presence, the sight of her irritation frightening him. To keep my silence, Your Highness, answered the man humbly, live my life out and die as a mortal human being.

Anger and hope surrounded Gullvieg, her head shaking strangely in despair as she considered the skin clad man with uncommon pleading.

Ask whatever you want of me, groaned Gullvieg stretching both hands pleadingly to him. If within my power, it will be yours. However, she commanded the man, her enlarged eyes soaked with tears, fixed on him. Do not lie to me and tell me wild and ridiculous tales and mysteries of gods and demons.

Her emotional state and her presence made the man shrink away.

It is not a matter of rewards, as I have all I need and do not seek more, he spoke quietly, sounding terribly dejected, his voice vibrating as he did. I cannot and will not lie to you, Queen Gullvieg. However, I must choose for your sake or mine. The gods, he repeated fearfully, have given me a choice. His bare knees knocked each other as he regarded her with lowered eyes.

Gullvieg stepped closer to him confused, impatient and thoroughly annoyed by the man’s demeanour. Then choose for me, your Queen and not for yourself, she commanded. Reveal to me the fate of my son. Gullvieg inhaled a deep breath to steady her mounting concerns. Where is he? she nonetheless pleaded with him.

The skin-clad man appeared visibly distressed as he tugged away rapidly with dirty fingers at his elongated knotted beard. He did not answer her question and looked away.

If a god has spoken to you, as you claim, tell us, where my son has been escorted to? coaxed Gullvieg, altering her demeanour to encourage his recollections.

His misery was palpable and his reluctance to divulge information apparent. He would not dare look directly at her and his body trembled in her presence.

On a violent night, he shuddered, as I prepared to settle within my tent, he said, pointing to the far side of the lake, some men appeared on the shore of the lake. There were several of them, he related, his voice quivering as he spoke. They were all heavily armed. I hid in the nearby forest to observe.

And then? Astrid was anxious.

I have seen the lord, Håmüs, on many an occasion and observed him talking to creatures of the forest, the man related proudly. I have seen them listen to him as though they understood his language. Some, I did observe often, leaned against him with great affection as he spoke to them and others fought for the privilege. I can recognise him anywhere, he assured them.

The man cast a brief look in the direction of the young princess. Her resemblance to her brother was remarkable, as though they were twins separated by gender alone. He allowed his gaze to linger for a while. Curiously, whereas her brother’s eyes were hauntingly amber, hers were fleetingly dark or dark blue. It was difficult to tell. He wondered if one eye was dark, the other blue.

Yes! Astrid encouraged, smiling hopefully at him.

He was in the presence of his queen, a freedom he could not have accessed in his dreams. Nonetheless, the man was afraid and reluctant. He cast fleeting sorrowful looks in her direction and clasped his hands together in an act seeking forgiveness. However, he had no choice but to follow her commands.

Go on, prompted Gullvieg in a local manner of speaking, her