Time for Wrath
“Björn walked to me, smiling. ‘Now, my people have the faith they need for this journey.’
“‘I don’t understand,’ I said. ‘These two men died willingly. Why would they do that and put up no fight?’
“‘They are blessed by Odin,’ Björn said. ‘Their families will receive the highest honors. And they themselves will go straight to Walhalla and dine with the gods.’ He sighed. ‘Or so they believe.’
“I frowned, surprised. ‘You don’t believe it?’
“He shrugged. ‘I let my people believe whatever they need to have the strength and will to go on and fight.’
“Was this possible? Björn did not believe in his gods? Was this the curse of every leader, using religion to rule and manipulate, but never believing himself, just as Boris had done? But I needed Björn’s faith to be strong if he was to withstand the changes to come. What if one day he decided Christianity suited him better?
“‘You have never seen a human sacrifice before?’ he asked. ‘They are not frequent. We did it only because the journey ahead is more important than any other. Otherwise, we only do them every nine years at Uppsala. There we sacrifice nine dogs, nine horses, and nine humans, all male.’
“‘And they are all volunteers?’ I asked.
“‘Of course,’ he said. ‘There is no need to force anyone.’
“‘But why hanging?’ I wondered. ‘Surely, a blade through the heart would be quicker.’
“Björn adjusted his sword belt and looked up at me. ‘The sacrifices are for Odin. And hangings hold a special meaning for him. He hung himself from a tree, as a sacrifice, until the secrets of the runes were revealed to him. In a way, he sacrificed himself to himself, and it was the ultimate sacrifice, for what gift could be nobler than a god?’
“Somewhat like the Christian God, I thought, but pushed the notion aside. This was incredible. Every nine years, nine men would volunteer to die such a painful death to please Odin. That went beyond anything I’d seen before, beyond any sacrifice I had made. Such dedication to their faith. I was confident that these people were strong enough to withstand the tides of time.”
“Vlad, listen to yourself,” Myra cried. “Can you actually hear the words coming out of your mouth? You’re glorifying human sacrifice! You present Christianity as something that destroyed native cultures and religions, but I say good riddance. At least it ended all this horror.”
He leaned back in the deep snow and looked at her under raised eyebrows. “Ended? What did it end, exactly?”
Myra waived her hands in the air. “So many horrific practices. These sacrifices, for example.”
“Did it?” His voice was calm and strangely tired. “You say there were no human sacrifices after the conversion. But how many died in the crusades, inquisitions, faith-inspired executions, civil wars due to different interpretations of faith, witch trials, and unnecessary martyrdoms? I can promise you they were more than the nine men who died every nine years at Uppsala.”
“But it’s different,” Myra argued. “The sacrifices were for no reason.”
“As were all the others,” he said. “There is hardly ever a good reason to take a life.”
Myra snorted. “Says the vampire who murdered billions.”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “I had my good reasons.”
“Which you have yet to reveal,” said Myra.
“And I will, if you stop interrupting,” he said with a wink.
Myra sighed. “Fine. Please, continue.”
“I asked Björn if all Vikings, from all the different lands, gathered at Uppsala,” the Prince went on. “He said they normally would, but in the recent years, those converted to Christianity would be excused if they paid an extra tax. His words stunned me. So some Vikings had already converted? And, in the common ‘pagan’ tradition, everyone was tolerating this, in a way Christians had never tolerated us. I feared this tolerance would be the Vikings’ downfall, as it had been ours.”
“So what alternative do you propose?” Myra asked, incredulous. “That the Vikings slaughter those who had converted? You think that would have stopped the spread of Christianity? Christians were heavily persecuted in ancient times, and that never stopped anyone. If people wanted to convert, they would have found a way, and giving them martyrs would have likely inspired them.”
“You are right,” he admitted, to her surprise. “That would not have worked, and I wondered what would, until I had a brilliant idea how to reignite the Vikings’ faith. But I am jumping ahead of myself. The sacrifices were done, and we were now ready to set sail.
“My companions and I were to travel on Ivar’s ship. His servants had already brought him and his chair on board, and I stood next to him, watching the proceedings.
“I watched as the shieldmaiden Lagertha, her hair now arranged into numerous braids, walked aboard her own ship, her nine cats trailing at her feet. ‘Cats often accompany us on raids,’ Ivar said. ‘Did you know that a cat can become a vampire? My vampire friend tried turning all kinds of beasts out of curiosity—horses, dogs, geese—but it has only worked on a cat and a bat so far.’
“I shuddered. ‘Your friend and Lucien would get along. What happened to the vampire animals?”
“‘He staked them,’ Ivar said. ‘Letting them loose would have been too risky, and he had no patience to keep them. But perhaps you could make yourself an immortal cat companion.’
“‘My other immortal companions are enough trouble,’ I said.
“Ivar chuckled and moved slightly in his chair. ‘I’ve been observing you three. Looks to me you are on a tight leash and wish to break free.’
“I sighed. ‘Callisto always tells me there are rules. I cannot change the course of history. I must live in secret. I can never reveal myself to humans.’
“‘My vampire companion revealed himself to me,’ Ivar said. ‘Whatever rules Callisto is talking about, they are hers only.’
“‘I thought so as well,’ I said. My eyes narrowed when I watched a group of Vikings load a small cart and five horses to the ship. ‘You take horses on raids?’
“Ivar followed my gaze. ‘The cart is for me. My groom rides with me to the battlefield, so I can observe and advise on strategy. I need only one horse, but the rest are a backup in case it is injured or killed.’ He took in a deep breath of the fresh sea air. ‘I cannot bear not being a part of these raids. I have looked forward to them as I have nothing else. I finally have a chance to punish the man who murdered my father.’
“The salty wind was blowing in my face, and I allowed it to cool me down. I myself had given up on my revenge over the man who had murdered my father, as well as everyone else in my life. ‘And then you can go to Uppsala as heroes,’ I said.
“Ivar snorted. ‘This will be the strangest Uppsala festival in all history.’
“I frowned and gave him a sharp look. ‘How so?’
“‘Every time, we sacrifice nine men,’ he said. ‘In all history, we had never been short on volunteers. Those who wished to dine with the gods were many and often had to fight for these nine spots.’ He gazed far into the deep blue sea that matched the color of his eyes. His gaze then returned to his deformed fingers in his lap. ‘But I fear that this time they will not be enough.’
“I frowned. ‘Björn said there were always volunteers.’
“‘Our people have changed lately,’ he said. ‘And Björn has been very worried about it, although he’d never admit it. You should understand this better than I do, Vladimir. You have seen your own people change in much the same way.’
“No. I refused to believe it. Those fierce people could not give up their ways. I had seen two men walk willingly to their death. Surely, the faith was still strong.
“‘Don’t look gloomy,’ Ivar said. ‘Raids are coming, and they will lift everyone’s spirits. We only raid nowadays. When my father was still alive, he tried to settle the lands further south. As you have seen, our lands are terrible for farming.’
“‘How did it go?’ I asked.
“‘Oh, very well,’ he said and laughed. ‘The Briton men hated us because their women always preferred us! But it wasn’t our fault they hardly ever bathed or cared for their hair.’
“I smiled as my eyes swept the ships and the many warriors still on shore, waiting to board. I could hardly imagine any men taking greater care of their appearance. All hair and beards were always carefully washed and combed with essential oils, smelling of lavender and roses, braided and bleached with lye. Even those Vikings who has descended from thralls from southern Europe or northern Africa had bleached their hair, and it stood out bright and silver-golden against their darker complexions and black eyebrows.
“Ivar was right. Once we crossed the sea and the raids began, everyone’s spirits rose. We swarmed upon the British shores as ants on a hill and we devoured everything on our way. We fought and burned and found treasures unseen before. The Britons screamed and ran. They called us ‘The Great Heathen Army,’ and I reveled in that name.
“There was only one thing that bothered me. ‘Aren’t you curious?’ I asked Björn once. ‘You only pillage and destroy. Don’t you wish to learn more about these people, about their culture and way of life?’
“‘My father had curiosity and wonder in him,’ Björn said. ‘He wished to talk to these people and learn their ways. He learned their tongues and taught me and my brothers and sisters. And they killed him. There is time for curiosity and learning, but it is not today. Today is the time for wrath and vengeance. Today is the time for blood.’
“And as I killed Björn’s enemies, as I devoured their blood and let it flow down my throat and into my own veins, I tasted his vengeance and his wrath. And it made my head spin in a way mead never could.
“Our battles were no mindless, savage raids. We always had a strategy, starting with firing lines of rocks and arrows from a distance, and only then attacking, ambushing, feigning, deceiving. And, more often than not, Ivar was the mastermind behind all plans.
“It all paid off in the end. The last defenses fell, and we had King Ælla in our hands. He begged for his life, but the sons of Ragnar Lodbrok laughed and mocked him.
“‘He threw our father into a snake pit,’ said Halfdan. ‘We should do the same.’
“‘No,’ said the shieldmaiden Lagertha, fixing the fallen king with her steely grey eyes. ‘Only one punishment is fit for this treachery.’ Her gaze met Ivar’s, and the young man grinned and nodded at her.
“‘A Blood Eagle,’ said Ivar, and his voice sent shivers down my spine.
“‘Blood Eagle,’ Björn echoed, his face grim.
“‘Blood Eagle!’ All warriors took up the call, and the cry echoed across the green fields of York. ‘Blood Eagle! Blood Eagle!’
“I approached Callisto. ‘What are they talking about?’
“Her mouth twitched into a grin. ‘I’ve heard about it, but never seen it with my own eyes. My love, I believe we will have a few stories to tell after this coming night.’”