DIVINE [HVITSERK RAGNARSSON]

22: SEIDR

warnings — mentions of sacrifice and mentions of blood.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO — 'SEIDR'

"The Valkyries are sent by Odin, and they collect the fallen warriors from the battlefield."

Her mother's voice was ringing in her ears, but she could not see her. She could only see darkness.

"The best and most honourable warriors are chosen. They will feast in the hall of the Gods, and fight and drink and laugh."

She could remember Signe's smile as she spoke, even if she was only a girl at the time.

"One day, your father will join them. And your brothers too. It's called, Valhalla."

Where was Valhalla? Where was she? She died with her sword, did she not? She thought that would be enough. But there was nothing here — only darkness and cold, no feast and no fight.

Because she wasn't dead.

Rhea looked at the scout blankly. "And the fever?"
"What about it?" He grunted back at her.
"How bad?"
"Her skin is covered in sweat, it has lost all colour, we thought she was dead. She was muttering about going to Valhalla. She has not awoken since."
Rhea raised an eyebrow and let out a sigh, as if she was unbothered. The small cabin, deep in the green woods, sat silent for a while as she mixed at a potion and added various herbs to the mixture.
"And you say you are with the sons of Ragnar?"
The scout nodded.
"Ragnar Lothbrok?" He nodded again and the seeress smiled impressively.
"If the fever is what I imagine, there is hope. I will come with you. But I recommend Ragnar's sons make a sacrifice. They would be wise to please Odin."
The scout nodded, turning around to nod at his companion in instruction — he was to ride ahead, tell Hvitserk and Ubbe that the seeress would be there. They should have the sacrifice prepared for when she arrived.

Arvid Stensson looked down at the floor, a solemn look on his face.
"What if the Gods do not favour us?" He sighed, looking at his younger brother.
"Then they would have taken her already." Erik responded, patting his brother's back. The scouts had returned with word of a seeress who had agreed to travel to their camp. They just had to make a sacrifice. Of course they would, they would do anything to help please their gods.
"Hvitserk? Are you coming to prepare the sacrifice?"
"I am not leaving her side." Hvitserk didn't even look up from Asta's weak body that lay on the small bed. He was dabbing at her forehead with a damp cloth in the hopes of cooling the fever.

Yesterday, he thought she was dead. It was as if the girl had gone mad. She was muttering to the gods, begging for her sword in order to reach Valhalla and saying goodbye to Hvitserk. A woman in the camp had come forward with a strange mixture of herbs and liquids and demanded they give it to Asta. It had worked, but the woman was no völva. They needed somebody that practiced seidr.

"Hvitserk." Erik's voice pulled him from his own head as the two brothers shot each other an unsure look. "You should come and speak to the AllFather."
Hvitserk finally looked up then. Letting out a long sigh, he let go of Asta's hand and rose from the seat. He knew her brothers were right and he needed to beg the gods.

————

The whole camp gathered around the huge fire that night. People had grown to love Asta — she played with the women's children when they needed a break, she let the warriors train with her and listened when they gave her advice, she passed around mead as if there were an endless supply and she was always the first to agree to a feast.

Rhea, the völva, stepped through the crowd like a bear coming face to face with it's prey. She looked at the animal in front of her, the one that would be sent to the gods in sacrifice for Asta. The sky was a midnight black and the campfire was the only thing that illuminated the crowd of Northmen, huge sparks flickering off of the flames as a group of four men played music beside it.

Rhea looked mythical as she stepped up onto a wooden platform, outstretching her hand as a man laid a huge, silver blade onto her flattened palms. Her face was covered in sacrificial body paint, runes etched into the deep red and feathers intertwined in her hair. Her hands, covered in rings and expensive jewellery, moved the blade so that it was facing upwards, before she began speaking in Old Norse.
"AllFather, Freyja, Freyr and Eir," she closed her eyes as she spoke, "receive our sacrifice, bless this army and bless its warriors."

Hvitserk stared at the ground as Rhea spoke. He saw Asta's face in his mind as Rhea spoke to the gods of her, asking them to receive their sacrifice in place of Asta. She spoke to Eir, goddess of healing and pleaded with her to heal their wounded companions. He watched as the sacrifice was made, it's blood collected in the sacrificial bowl. Half was poured over Rhea's shoulders; some splattered onto Hvitserk's face, along with Ubbe's, Arvid's and Erik's. Even Ivar stood beside Hvitserk, and he willingly received the blood to his skin. The rest of the sacrificial blood was to be splattered upon Asta.

Rhea became strict then, but the brothers nor Hvitserk could argue with her if they wanted Asta to survive. She would take the blood into the tent and splatter it across Asta as she performed her seidr and created an elixir with herbs, plants and the remaining sacrificial blood.

"He is good to her." Arvid muttered out loud as he looked at Hvitserk Ragnarsson, sat outside the small white tent as Rhea was inside. Erik looked up in response, tutting and letting out a sigh.
"I still do not trust him."
Arvid shot him a questioning look. "He has not left her side since we got her back. I have never seen a Ragnarsson cry before, but the tears he wept when we thought she lay dead somewhere..."
"He is protective of her because he trained her, that is all." Erik sighed. "As soon as we arrive back in Kattegat, he will fuck Magrethe again and he will fuck half the women in Norway, and Asta will be forgotten."
Arvid almost hit his brother. "Don't speak of our sister like that. Besides, Margrethe is married to Ubbe now."
Erik grunted and let out a sarcastic laugh. "Ah yes Ubbe, another one that uses our sister for his own pleasure. That will not stop Margrethe, and it will not stop the Ragnarssons either."
"Whatever," Arvid sighed, "I am going to find Ubbe. Tomorrow, we are to take York."

————

Hvitserk's head flicked to the side as soon as he saw the white material of Asta's tent part and Rhea appear from inside. She was covered in sacrificial blood, her hair slightly messier than it had been when she'd arrived in their camp and her fingertips dirty from the herbs and potions she'd been working with.

He stood up immediately from the small stool that perched outside the tent and was at her side in seconds. She continued walking, as if he wasn't there, but she spoke as she strode.
"She'll be fine." She said almost dismissively, "just give her the mixture that is beside her bed, twice a day until she is recovered."
Hvitserk nodded as he continued walking quickly beside her.
"It seems the gods listened to you today, Son of Ragnar."
He nodded. "Find my brother. He will give you your payment."

He turned then as she continued to walk, making his way back to the tent. He had to see Asta.