Valkyrie Queen

By Val Manning

In the 9th century when a ravaged England was emerging from an era of pillage, arson and rapine, and beginning instead to enjoy an era of peace with the Viking marauders, a Saxon girl called Astrid, her Viking husband, Krodin, and their five- year-old son Kol, live in the shadow of threatened vengeance from a king who wanted her for himself.

Astrid is betrayed and her safe world shattered when the Norse King Halfdan sends arrogant, black-clad Ragnar, on a mission of death.

Set against a backcloth of passion and violence, Astrid's sworn vengeance on the man she learns to love and her search for a heritage for young Kol, take her to Iceland and Norway, and, finally, through uncharted seas to a new land where bloodthirsty savages play a dramatic and vital part in their lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emissary Publishing
• Release date: May 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005232627

Book preview

© Val Manning 1975

First published in Great Britain 1975

VALKYRIE QUEEN

In the 9th century when a ravaged England was emerging from an era of pillage, arson and rapine, and beginning instead to enjoy an era of peace with the Viking marauders, a Saxon girl called Astrid, her Viking husband, Krodin, and their five- year-old son Kol, live in the shadow of threatened vengeance from a king who wanted her for himself.

Astrid is betrayed and her safe world shattered when the Norse King Halfdan sends arrogant, black-clad Ragnar, on a mission of death.

Set against a backcloth of passion and violence, Astrid's sworn vengeance on the man she learns to love and her search for a heritage for young Kol, take her to Iceland and Norway, and, finally, through uncharted seas to a new land where bloodthirsty savages play a dramatic and vital part in their lives.

CHAPTER ONE

BY THE Norns, he has come, Earl Atle said to Ragnar, his foster-son. King Halfdan-the-Black is now ruler in Sogn.

As you foretold, Ragnar smiled, for whenever the Earl delivered a warning or his prophecy was fulfilled he invoked the Norns, those three weird sisters who all men knew were the weavers of fate: the past, the present and the future. Then, growing thoughtful, Ragnar added, But he would be wise to steer away from witchcraft, and from spell-bound places.

The Earl eyed him curiously. You believe the country of Sogn is bewitched?

Look at it foster-father. Halfdan weds Ragnhild, daughter of King Harald of Sogn. Ragnhild bears Halfdan a son named Harald who is sent to Sogn with his mother where he is brought up by his grandfather, King Harald. The King dies of old age soon after giving his dominions and his title of King to his grandson.

There is nothing strange in that, the Earl reproved. Old King Harald knew he was dying and having no son of his own it was natural he should want to give all he had to his only grandson.

True, said Ragnar. But then Ragnhild, his lovely, golden-haired daughter, dies the same winter. And if that is not enough, the young Harald falls sick the following spring, and HE dies!

The Earl frowned. I was close friend to King Harald as you know, foster-son, and he told me a great deal that I would not gladly tell any other. But witchcraft is evil and for that reason I will tell you what I know that you may dismiss sorcery from your mind. Ragnhild and the young Harald took their sickness from my old friend. Wise men say it thrives in squalid conditions and is caught from the infected one during bed-sport.

That cannot be! Ragnar exclaimed in horror. King Harald would not violate his own daughter!

The Earl's face darkened. By the Norns, I know that better than any man. Was he not my true friend! But there are learned men, Ragnar, who say it can be caught by handling the infected materials, and Ragnhild and her son were never very strong.

Which learned men are these, foster-father, who seek to spoil a man’s natural pleasures with such forebodings?

The Earl smiled then. Ah, but you are young, and, like most headstrong younglings, eager for woman-sport. But be wise. Choose only virtuous women and ignore those who grovel in filth where the sickness is said to breed.

Has King Halfdan contracted this terrible scourge from Ragnhild, foster-father?

It would seem not, the Earl laughed. Halfdan’s strength and ferocity remain unmatched. But Halfdan is not an ignorant man. He may have known more than we suspect. Once Ragnhild had conceived, he sent her to Sogn with his son, and, so far as is known, did not bed with her again though young Harald was ten summers when she died.

The whole country is out to welcome him, Ragnar remarked, and no man opposes him.

Yes. The people of Sogn may relax now that he has come. No-one will invade whilst Halfdan rules with his great force.

"Would that I could meet him foster-father. It is said he was given the rule of Agder by his mother when he was eighteen years, and immediately claimed the southern part of Westfold from his step-brother, Olaf, who had held it in trust for him since their father’s death. Then he deployed his army in many battles, adding half of Vingulmark and Hedemark, the whole of Raumarike and Hedeland to his territories, pillaging far and wide afield besides.

Now his son, the young Harald, is dead and Halfdan claims Sogn after him. Such a man might gain all Norway one day.

You have studied him well, Ragnar? the Earl commented.

Indeed I have, Ragnar agreed. He is a great war-lord and a powerful ruler. And he was younger than me when he made his first battle strides.

True, Ragnar. But he ruled a kingdom from the outset.

Could you not use your influence foster-father?

If it lies in my power I will help you.

Could you not speak for me? You were King Harald’s friend. He will stake much on your word.

What did you have in mind?

Though I am base-born, the blood of King Harald flows through me, for my mother was no other man’s concubine. Tell him I seek only to serve him, to carve a road for myself to Odin’s Valhalla, to feast and fight with the gods and the heroes till Ragnarok, the end of the world. Tell him I would be the King’s man.

The Earl frowned. He has his own men, all experienced and trusted warriors. Do not raise your hopes too high for you are but a youngling and still unproven.

Nineteen summers is no youngling.

But unproven, Ragnar. Unproven!

"And would you have me remain so? I can hunt and fight with skill and would now pay homage to Halfdan and serve in his hird."

You could do worse foster-son. But the king’s personal bodyguard is made up of fearless, dedicated retainers enjoying great favour. Such men are chosen carefully when a king’s life is at stake.

Speak for me foster-father; one favour is not so much!

We leave Gaular for Sogn in the morning. If you are then of the same mind, so be it. Only, he added with twinkling eyes, do not let him mistake your enthusiasm for a usurper’s eagerness to join and then despatch him!

* * *

At last Ragnar stood before the mighty Halfdan, filled with awe and uncertainty. The sheer force of Halfdan’s personality and his stout physique gave the impression of great strength. Ragnar’s self-acclaims faded fast as he feasted his eyes on the magnificent Halfdan. The king wore a leaf-green shirt over oatmeal knee-length trousers and leaf-green hose from knee to ankle gartered to the leg with leather thongs. Over the vivid shirt, a deep purple tunic with a jewelled belt round the middle. Over all he had a long, purple cloak of finest silk held by a gold pin at the neck, the border richly embroidered in leaf-green and gold thread. The robe would be useless as protection against the elements, Ragnar thought, but it added splendidly to Halfdan’s magnificence. He was speechless with awe and his desire to belong to the king’s hird swelled. He waited for Halfdan to speak, hoping he would be given the opportunity he craved. And as he waited the Norse Halfdan’s eyes searched him with piercing intensity so that Ragnar felt his soul laid bare. Then the king spoke.

Earl Atle was true friend to my father-in-law, he said, gravely. And he is strong with praise of you. He tells me you are a bold, keen-witted fellow eager to prove yourself a Viking.

Ragnar, dressed entirely in black, offsetting the pale gold of his hair, fervently hoped that Halfdan realised it was from respect and admiration that he chose black. The Earl had hinted to him that the king was not averse to hero- worship, rather encouraged it. Remembering this, he returned Halfdan’s gaze with open admiration and noted the unconscious flexing of Halfdan’s powerful muscles as though aware of the effect he had upon Ragnar. Trying to gauge the king’s mood, he said, " My King, I crave the honour of being your hirdman."

Halfdan stared a moment, then threw back his stout head with broad laughter. Ha! A fine joke youngling when only trusted men and heroes can compete for such an honour.

Ragnar bridled against Halfdan’s scorn, and in his anger forgot that Halfdan was no mere man. I am no youngling, he cried, and can certainly be trusted. And I would prove myself worthy in any manner you would define. Then realising he had given a rebellious answer to the mighty Halfdan-the-Black, he gritted his teeth for the reprisal.

Halfdan’s face had clouded instantly, and he asked, Would you defy your king? His intense eyes seemed to penetrate Ragnar’s very skull. He gulped inwardly, but met the king’s gaze squarely, suppressing his apprehension.

Never that my Lord King, he said, bravely. "I would gladly die for but a few hours in your hird."

Halfdan tugged at his beard thoughtfully. You impress me with your sincerity. But you still have much to learn.

Earnestly Ragnar assured Halfdan, I only crave the chance to prove myself, to serve you till death. The Earl says I will go far, and some say he has second sight.

Is this so? Halfdan asked.

Ragnar shrugged slightly. It has been little proved, he admitted, but if you ask in Sunnfiord, there are those who say he is surely soothe, as his father was before him, for things have happened when he has warned of them. Halfdan was silent. Then suddenly he roared, Why do you array yourself in black?

Colour momentarily flooded Ragnar’s face at the sharply posed question. Did Halfdan think him a usurper as his foster-father had jokingly hinted he might? Halfdan was named the-Black because of his black hair, being the only one in a fair-headed family. Did he suspect Ragnar of coveting the name and seeking to be called Ragnar-the-Black? Earl Atle’s warning was fresh in his mind, for the Earl often covered his sooth-saying with a laugh or a joke as though to say it would be foolish to take him seriously. Then was the time to heed his words and so Ragnar answered, As I have said, I am keen to join your Lord’s personal bodyguard. This I cannot do lest I am first tried and proved worthy of the honour. I wear black that folk might know I serve you.

Halfdan’s stern features relaxed into a smile. So! You would be a marked man for my enemy, he chuckled.

That affords me only hope, my Lord, for I would gladly die in thy cause. You are a powerful king and will surely have great battles and honour before you reap the joys of Valhalla. My greatest desire would see me there also.

Fine words, Halfdan said tolerantly, when the gods take only Heroes into Valhalla. But I have a task that will test your strength. Should you accept it and return with success I will make you an Earldom and a place in my bodyguard. Mind though, that this mission must remain closed to others till you return. But if you succeed, then you will have great honours bestowed upon you and all men will know you for a true Viking. And I will name you Viking-Ragnar which will have been well-earned. Ragnar’s curiosity was aroused and he was eager to learn the mission that would earn him his glory. He listened avidly to all Halfdan told him.

I would wed again, spoke the king, but there is only one woman I desire. She has the spirit and beauty of fire and carries herself like a queen. Once, she was in my booth at the Thing, of royal stock like yourself, and pure. She was mine. Then Krodin Wulfsson stole her from my booth and fared with her to the Danelaw in England. This Krodin is a great warrior; do not mistake it. When he was a mere fifteen summers he had the blood-feud after his father who was burnt alive in his own Hall. Krodin and his brothers pursued their father’s murderers, and found them unprepared for a counter-attack. Krodin ordered the Hall surrounded and then fired it. When those inside ran out, blinded and choking from the smoke, he had them bound, their ribs cut off, their lungs withdrawn and salt rubbed in their wounds. Afterwards he went a-viking with the baresark Chief Bjorn, and it is said that only Krodin knew how to temper his evil spirit. Many stories have reached me concerning his honour and battle might, yet since he took the woman there has been silence. Some say he took the Christian oath along with King Guthrum and others of the King’s followers, and still others say he fell in battle against King Alfred.

You would have me find him, Ragnar said at once.

I would have you kill him. Kill him for an outlaw. Any man who rapes a virgin reaps his death. This woman, Astrid, was distant kin of mine and pure in every way.

Ragnar hesitated, a tiny doubt in his mind. Halfdan, sensing it, raised a quizzical eyebrow. What disturbs you? Speak.

Can you be certain it was this Krodin who ... Ragnar began, but Halfdan cut him off.

You doubt my word! he bellowed. Krodin took her—I know! His wife, Herluva, was unfaithful to him. She tempted and teased my cousin Sigurd, a love-sick stripling, and inveigled him into meeting her in a disused hut on the outskirts of the Thing. Sigurd’s wife followed them and fired the hut whilst they were inside. When Krodin heard this he took the lovely Astrid to fill his wife’s place. But he was in no way right to steal the woman in atonement for his wife. Sigurd and Herluva should have been offset one against the other, and no atonement taken.

Ragnar guessed instinctively that Halfdan would have taken blood for Sigurd’s life had his murderer not been Sigurd’s own distraught wife and therefore of his kin. One could not feud within one’s own family without destroying it; neither could one seek legal atonement. But Krodin had taken Astrid and Halfdan’s pride must have been bruised. Prudently, he kept his thoughts to himself as Halfdan went on.

I cannot and will not leave my dominions vulnerable whilst I search for a woman. You crave the chance to prove yourself. Then take it—and aid us both.

Halfdan knew that dishonour would overtake him should it be known that he could