Chapter 21

Emerald Talisman

Ylva was glad to see úlvhild looking refreshed by restful sleep and a hearty morning meal. In the sunny solar of Chateaufort, seated at the oak table with Sk?rde and his highest-ranking knights, they had shared boiled oats with honey and chopped hazelnuts, baked cod with fresh thyme, sliced apples and pears with soft creamy cheese. While the men had washed it all down with ale, Ylva, Gyda, and úlvhild had chosen sweet cider instead.

Now, as she and the v?lva descended the pebbled road leading from the castle toward úlvhild’s forested hut at the edge of the village, Ylva looked forward to seeing Maeve again. And she was most eager to craft the talisman to protect Sk?rde during his upcoming voyage to Denmark.

While her royal guards stood watch at the entrance, úlvhild—balancing the small wooden bowl filled with baked fish and bits of cheese that she’d saved for Kól—unlocked her front door and led Ylva into the cottage.

The pungent aroma of drying herbs hanging from the rafters blended with the tangy scent of the sea through the open window. Kól lifted his sleepy head from the pile of furs on the bed. At the sight of úlvhild, he jumped down and came to greet her, purring loudly and rubbing his sleek black fur against her lower legs.

úlvhild caressed her cat, crooning softly as she set the delicious dish in front of him.

Kól attacked the delightful meal with ravenous relish.

“I’ll light a fire and burn some herbs. And incense, to summon the spirits. While you select the stone for the talisman.” úlvhild fetched the violet colored silk bag from her shelves and handed it to Ylva, then returned to the hearth to start the fire. She gathered moss and wood shavings from a basket on the floor and arranged them into a small pile of tinder inside the stone enclosure. Retrieving her firesteel tool from the nearby shelf, she struck a piece of flint and blew upon the sparks until a tiny flame flickered in the hearth. Slowly, she built up the fire with progressively larger sticks until it blazed when she added a thick log. Picking up the cauldron from the floor, she explained as she headed toward the door, “I’ll dispose of this potion and fetch fresh water so we can start anew.” When she exited the cottage, Ylva spread a linen cloth onto the table, sat down on the bench, and poured out the stones from the purple pouch.

Among the many gemstones which she recognized—amber, carnelian, ruby, moonstone, turquoise, amethyst, and lapis lazuli—Ylva spotted a large emerald which glittered like verdant fire. With its oval shape, the deep green stone would be perfect for a pendant. Encased in silver, the talisman would portray Sk?rde’s heraldic colors as the Dragon of Normandy. Ylva cradled the precious gem in her hand. He can wear it under his chain mail armor, tucked beneath his hauberk tunic. It will protect him on the voyage to Denmark. And in battle against the Raven Warrior I saw in the waterfall pool.

“ Bonjour , Ylva!” Maeve’s smiling, freckled face appeared in the doorway.

Ylva rose from the table and rushed to greet her new friend. “ Bonjour ,” she replied cheerfully, kissing Maeve’s cheek. “Please, come in. úlvhild is cleaning her cauldron and fetching water from the well. Come see the stone I’ve chosen for the talisman.”

“I’m returnin’ the pot from last night’s rabbit stew. Ingi and Gillie loved it, just like I knew they would.” Maeve placed the kettle back on the shelf in the kitchen area of úlvhild’s hut. Eyes alight with curious delight, she approached the table to examine the gemstones.

“This emerald.” Ylva placed the dark green gem in Maeve’s hand, a thrill rippling up her spine. “We’ll encase it in silver, inscribed with runes. And imbue it with galdr magic. ”

Maeve’s mouth puckered as she admired the emerald. “Ooh, ‘tis a fine stone. It will make a perfect talisman.” She returned the emerald to Ylva just as úlvhild entered the hut with the cauldron.

“ Bonjour , Maeve,” she said, setting the cauldron over the roaring fire and coming to kiss her friend’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re here. With all three of us chanting, the galdr spell will be triply enhanced. For three is a sacred number.” úlvhild noticed the gemstone in Ylva’s hand. “An emerald. Perfect for the Dragon of Chateaufort .”

With a deep intake of breath as adrenaline surged in her veins, Ylva nodded and watched as the v?lva gathered the gemstones, put them back in the violet silk bag, and replaced the pouch among the feathers, vials, and potions on the shelves under the drying herbs. She selected a small cone of incense, which she placed into her elaborate ceramic burner. Placing the tip of a slender stick into the fire within the hearth, úlvhild lit the incense. The sweet, spicy scent of myrrh mingled with the aroma of drying herbs.

Kól, who had finished his feast, leapt back up onto the bed, licked his paws, and nestled into the snug pile of soft furs. Golden eyes glowing in the morning sunlight, he observed úlvhild gather herbs, strewing some among the rushes on the floor, tossing others into the fire.

“Lavender, whose sweet scent will summon the spirits.” The v?lva scattered dried purple flowers onto the reeds covering the earthen floor. “Rosemary and yarrow, for purification and protection.” Selecting strands from the drying herbs overhead, she spread the stalks among the aromatic sweet flag rushes. “And juniper berries to ward off negative spirits.” She tossed a handful of dark purple berries into the fire. A warm, spicy pine scent floated from the flames.

“Do you have a setting already formed? We could heat the silver and shape it to fit the stone.” Maeve searched among the trinkets and tools on the cluttered wooden shelves.

“I do indeed.” úlvhild rummaged through her jewelry and hacksilver, selecting a round silver casing with a closed back and loop at the top to form a pendant. “We’ll heat this in a small iron pan. Shape it with my hammer so it securely holds the emerald. And etch Nordic runes in the silver with my chisel.” She handed the tools to Maeve, who carried them to the table while úlvhild fetched a metal dish from her supplies.

The v?lva placed the silver setting for the pendant in the small pan and held it over the fire with tongs. After a few moments, while Ylva and Maeve watched in fascination, úlvhild returned to the table and placed the stone into the setting to determine the necessary adjustments. She removed the emerald, hammered the silver into shape, and fitted the stone securely in the setting, shaping the silver with pliers. “While the silver is still malleable, I’ll engrave a trio of runes.” Golden eyes glowing like her cat’s, she fixed Ylva with a penetrating feline gaze. “You have learned the Nordic runes. Which three do you choose for your husband’s talisman?”

Ylva carefully considered the question, running through the runes in her mind before answering. “ Tiwaz, Tyr’s rune. So that the Norse God of War will grant his strength to Sk?rde during battle. Algiz , the Elk. To ward off evil and protect him from harm. And Eihwaz, symbol of Yggdrasil, the tree of life which connects the physical and spiritual realms. That Sk?rde may summon the divine assistance of the gods to aid him in time of need.”

“Excellent choices. While the silver is still soft, I will inscribe them in the setting surrounding the gem.” úlvhild engraved the three runes with the sharp, pointed tip of her chisel. She looked up at Maeve, who was enthralled, watching her carve the symbols into the silver. “We need soot to blacken the runes. And blood to seal the galdr magic when we chant and imbue the stone.”

Using the shovel beside the hearth, Maeve scooped some of the ashes from the fire into an intricately carved silver chalice adorned with gems and brought it to the table.

“Chant with me as I blacken the runes. We’ll imbue them with a trinity of galdr magic.” Withdrawing a narrow instrument with a rounded tip from her supply of tools, úlvhild began an incantation as she painstakingly filled the runes with soot.

Maeve and Ylva joined in singing the vardlkokur , summoning the spirits between realms as they wove powerful galdr spells of protection, endurance, and strength. Limpid and pure, the high notes of Ylva’s voice evoked the crystalline notes of a flute, while Maeve’s mellow range was warm and rich, like the resonant strings of a lute. úlvhild’s melody was a mellifluous harp, the deep tones creating a harmonious balance as the three voices wove a trinity of magic into the trio of Nordic runes.

When the symbols were sufficiently blackened, úlvhild stopped singing, rose to her feet, and strode across the room. Retrieving a bejeweled scabbard from amongst her charms, potions, feathers, and bones, she returned to the table and unsheathed a small knife.

The wooden handle was intricately carved with the Nordic rune Ansuz and elaborate scrolls depicting swans in flight . In the hilt, a ruby red garnet glittered in the firelight. “Freyja’s Whisper ,” she murmured, her velvety voice laced with ethereal reverence. “Reserved for sacred blood rituals.”

Ylva’s heart swooped like wings of the swans in the v?lva’s small, sharp knife.

“You are Sk?rde’s fated mate. Your blood must seal the three runes as we—a triad of priestesses—imbue them with a trinity of Celtic, Gaelic, and Nordic magic.” úlvhild handed Ylva the knife. “Pierce the finger that bears your wedding ring. When the blood pools, allow three droplets to fall into each rune as you cast your spell. Imbue this protective talisman with your essence, your love, and your blood. The three of us will chant as I drum my staff, channeling our magic into the runes with your blood.”

úlvhild retrieved her wand, the luminous moonstone glowing like an otherworldly orb within the bronze filigree casing. She tossed a handful of fragrant juniper seeds into the fire, the snap and crackle releasing a sweet, spicy smoke. As the v?lva began to chant—thumping her staff on the ground in a rhythmic cadence like a drum—Maeve and Ylva joined in the incantation, the vibrations of velvety voices amplifying the energy and power in the room.

Chanting in Old Norse, Ylva pricked her finger with the sharp pointed tip of Freyja’s Whisper and watched as the dark red blood oozed from the wound. Using the precise vocalizations, intonations, and vibrations she’d been taught, Ylva cast her spell, imbuing layer upon layer of galdr magic into the emerald talisman. After she’d successfully infused three drops of her blood into each of the three runes, she ended her enchantment with a prayer. Through the Ansuz rune and deep red garnet on Freyja’s Whisper , Ylva asked the Nordic Goddess of love and magic to bless the protective amulet.

“Freyja, hear my prayer and grant my favor. Please bless the blood from my veins, the love from my heart, and the magic from my soul that I have infused into these sacred runes. Through this sacred blood ritual with the knife that bears your divine name, may this emerald talisman guide and protect the man I love. Now and always.”

The ritual complete, they ceased chanting, and úlvhild dumped the unused ashes from her silver chalice back into the fire. “We’ll allow the ring to set until the silver has cooled and hardened.” She rinsed the soot from the glittering vessel, placing it back on the shelf and returning to the table to fetch her sacred knife. “I’ll wash the blood from Freyja’s Whisper , and we’ll pay tribute to the goddess and the talisman with a goblet of golden mead.” Wiry black hair falling over her shoulder to her waist as she bent to pick up the knife, úlvhild grinned from ear to ear.

“I’ll pour the mead.” Maeve fetched three pewter goblets from the shelf in the kitchen area and filled them from a small wooden barrel under the counter.

Ylva stood transfixed by the table, in awe of the emerald talisman. Like the enchanted ring on her finger, the deep green stone pulsed with power. Her legs shook violently and her stomach quivered from the intense ordeal of the ritual.

I pray this will protect him for the voyage to Denmark. The battle against the Raven Warrior. And the rescue of his young brother Sweyn. Dear Divona, Rán, and Freyja, please imbue this talisman with your divine blessing. And bring Sk?rde safely home to me.

úlvhild wiped off the table with a linen cloth, and Maeve placed the three goblets upon its clean top. Once they’d settled into the chairs, the v?lva lifted her chalice. “A trio of runes etched in blood. A trinity of galdr magic. From a triad of priestesses. Thrice the sacred number three. May this talisman protect the Dragon of Normandy who defends the Pays de Caux . ”

They toasted the talisman, and Ylva savored the sweet flavor of the honeyed mead. She was anxious to return to the castle and present the amulet to Sk?rde. Perhaps he and the men had completed their morning work and had come back for the midday meal. “Thank you both very much for helping me create this talisman. I’d like to give it to Sk?rde right away. He and his men were finishing the watchtowers this morning. I’m hoping to catch him before he goes back down to the port this afternoon.”

Maeve rose from her chair. “I’ve got some chores to do as well. Helpin’ Gillie tend the garden, feed the pigs, clean out the chicken coop.” She kissed both úlvhild and Ylva on the cheek, “Lessons tomorrow afternoon?”

úlvhild glanced at Ylva, who nodded in agreement. “We’ll practice a chant to bless the voyage to Denmark. When Sk?rde departs, the three of us will go down to the dock and send him off with a blessing from the gods and benevolent spirits.”

“ Au revoir, mes amies . Goodbye, friends. See you tomorrow.” A smiling Maeve headed out the door.

úlvhild crossed the room to her cluttered shelves and retrieved a black leather cord. “This will be strong enough to last for years.” She threaded it through the silver loop at the top of the pendant and handed the talisman to Ylva. “I have a silk pouch you can put it in.” Amidst the potions, charms, and trinkets, the v?lva found a small black drawstring sack, which she offered to Ylva.

Securing the enchanted amulet safely inside the silk pouch, Ylva kissed úlvhild goodbye and thanked her again.

When she exited the cottage, her guards were instantly alert. And escorted her up the pebbled gravel road to the castle at the top of the cliff.

****

“He and the men were here, but they ate quickly to return to the port. Now that the two defense towers are finished, they’re fitting the chain boom across the mouth of the river. I had no idea what a chain boom was, but Sk?rde explained that it’s a heavy chain that will keep enemy ships out of our port. And it’s retractable, so they can allow our own ships to return from sea.” Gyda ate her last bite of apple tart and leaned back in her chair for Dagny to remove the empty plate.

Ylva was disappointed she’d missed Sk?rde, but she would give him the emerald talisman tonight at dinner. On impulse, she decided to go to the waterfall cave. She felt inexplicably compelled to immerse the amulet in the sacred spring and imbue it with Divona’s divine protection. Since she and Gyda had finished their meal, now would be a good time to go. “The salmon was delicious,” she said, as Norhild cleared away her wooden plate. She turned to Gyda. “I’m going down to the shore to make an offering to Divona and Rán. I want to pray for Sk?rde’s safe journey to Denmark.” At Gyda’s look of concern, she quickly added, “With my guards, or course.” Ylva rose from the table and kissed Gyda’s soft, crinkled cheek. “Are you going to do more embroidery?”

Sk?rde’s grandmother nodded and smiled at Dagny, who had come back into the solar to attend Gyda. “Indeed I am. I’m almost finished with the decorative stitching on the neckline of a new gown. Dagny and I are working together in the courtyard, under the canopy of trees.” She allowed her faithful servant to help her stand, clutching Dagny’s arm for support. “Enjoy your visit to the waterfall cave. I’ll see you when you get back.” While castle servants cleared the remaining dishes from the table, Gyda tottered from the solar with Dagny.

Norhild and Eydis accompanied Ylva upstairs to her chamber. “Sit here, my lady, while I braid your hair.” Norhild ran an antler comb through Ylva’s waist length blonde locks, braiding a section of hair on either side of her face.

Eydis placed a slender silver coronet upon her head. “The perfect adornment for the Lady of Ch?teaufort. ” Pretty face aglow with pride, her large brown eyes sparkled in the afternoon sun.

“Thank you both. I’ll see you later this afternoon.” Ylva slipped out of her room.

Kallez and her personal guards escorted her out of the castle, across the wildflower strewn meadow, and down the grassy slope to the shore at the bottom of the cliff .

The warm sun kissed her upturned face, and the saline breeze blew through her long hair. Ylva glimpsed a flock of white gannets soaring over the sea, reminding her of the swans in Freyja’s Whisper. Sheltered within the protective curve of the white chalk cliffs, the thunderous cascade tumbled from the precipice, splashing and sloshing into the effervescent pool. Ylva ordered her guards to wait nearby, affording her a bit of privacy as she withdrew the emerald talisman from the black silk pouch at her waist and immersed it in the ebullient waters of the sacred spring.