Something is wrong. My eyes flutter open. I've been asleep for hours, and now everything is in a fog, and my mouth tastes like cotton. I'm awake enough to take a deep breath and try to clear my head. Eric is curled up next me, out like a light, smelling of beer and sweat. He has a strong arm wrapped around me like a vise. I smile, nobody is going to take me away from you, baby. I stroke his arm. Then I try to get up, but he's not budging. I pull away harder, but he grunts and tightens his hold. I grab my pillow and put it on the other side of him, and he rolls over and seizes it instead of me.
Then I stand up. Bad idea. My legs give out and I grab the bench next the bed, but it slides loudly across the flag stone and rushes, and I tumble onto the floor.
"Sookie!" Eric rubs his eyes, and he sits up quickly. He jumps out of bed, and lifts me off the floor. "Are you crazy? You shouldn't even think about getting out of bed yet."
He lays me down next to him. "Do you need something?"
Water. This is the first time I've noticed I'm unbelievably thirsty. It doesn't make any sense; I've been eating and drinking here for nearly two years. But I haven't, have I? Not really. I can't tell him.
He presses his forehead to mine. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"
"I need to get up. Something feels…off."
Then, suddenly – a sharp female scream.
Shouting… the sounds of iron swords crashing together. Eric is up and out of bed in a second, searching for his sword. It would normally be within reach, except that we're in the bath house.
"By our bed", I say, but he's already clothed and running out the door.
"What do you think it is?" I gasp, trying to get up.
"Lie still!" he orders.
"Eric, I have to know…."
He runs out, apparently done with the conversation. Dammit. Beyond our curtained world, the night is dark and the stars are dim. Anything might be happening.
Two of Eric's men, armed to the teeth, shove their way in. I'm not exactly dressed, and pull the furs on top of me.
"Lie still, we don't know what's going on yet", Ysgar says.
"I can't just lie here when I don't know what's happening! Go back to Eric, he may need you!"
"Eric's kvinnan är framfusiga", the blonde one says. Eric's woman is pushy. He has no idea.
"Our orders are to watch over you", Ysgar offers.
I don't know the other one's name. Ysgar I will always remember from his shaggy red beard. And his odor if nothing else.
He looks down at me with a smile, and then pats me on the head. I can feel how deeply he cares not only for Eric, but now for me. I'm part of this place.
"There is someone more important now to look after, and you know it! I need to get to Eric, and I need someone strong to get to the Crown Prince. What if something happens to both Eric and the King? My son is all that is left."
I try again to get up.
"Stop!" Ysgar insists, trying to hold me down. He doesn't have to try hard, I'm weak as a kitten.
"Eric would kill us if we left you!" the blond one shouts.
"This is about more than Eric now!" I boom. "I'm going to Eric. Ysgar, you're going to find the midwife. Protect my son." I squeeze his hand hard and look into his eyes. "Promise me you will protect him with your life."
"I swear it", Ysgar says, standing straighter.
"Go!" I shout. And foolishly stand up. And nearly fall.
They look at each other, and then Ysgar puts his arm around me and puts me back in bed. "And they say you're not a Viking. I'm going to get the Crown Prince. Jon will go help Eric. But you, are staying here. I'll be back as fast as I can."
"We have orders not to leave her!" Jon shouts.
"She's right. She and our new Prince may be all we have left. We all pray not, but we have to protect the ones we know are still alive. Eric would agree. He would want us to protect his son. He would want you to stay with her, Jon, but we're going to disobey him just this once, because I will be right back."
"Ysgar, is it the Danes?"
"Who else?", he whispers. Who else indeed since Eric told me they believe the Danes are responsible for everything.
"Go", I repeat, heatedly, and they run out in different directions.
I have to make sure my child is all right. That's all that matters. When I know he's safely in Ysgar's strong arms, I'm going to help my stubborn husband whether he likes it or not.
Furs are covering the doorway and I can't see anything. Eric would tell me to keep quiet and out of sight.
I struggle to get to my feet and throw on a nightgown. It feels like a lifetime until I get my balance.
I step outside into a black, moonless night. I have to squint to see around the corner to see Ysgar dragging the midwife back to the bathhouse. He was her arm in one hand, and my son cradled in his other arm.
I take off as fast as I can toward the main house. No one stops me as I barge right now.
Inside, Eric's men are everywhere. They're searching the house, and barely look up when I walk by. But the most shocking part is the overwhelming silence. It's clear whatever was happening has already happened. The silence is interspersed with crying. And then wailing, horrible wailing. Men and women alike. Frieda is collapsed against the wall.
Near the high table, Eric is kneeling over his father, who is gushing blood from the neck.
"You're King", Ulfrick says.
"No. I will not allow it. Help!" Eric shouts.
"You know what to do", Ulfrick says.
Eric nods. "Yes."
"Vengeance."
Eric runs toward the door. In the distance is a man in a heavy cloak with a hood, surrounded by wolves. He holds a golden crown in his hand. "Don't be a hero, Viking."
"I'm not waiting a thousand years for vengeance this time, Russell", Eric whispers hotly, grabbing his sword.
Can this happen? Can we change events in a dream?
"Eric!"
He spins around to see me clutching the table and about to fall.
He drops the sword and runs over to me, catching me. Was Russell destined to get away? Eric is no longer a green young man, confused about what to do next in the face of his family's deaths. But my actions made sure Russell got away anyway.
"Sookie?! Where is Ysgar? I will KILL him!"
"Eric, no, I sent him to protect our son."
Silence. In the silence between us, is the cacophony of wailing.
Vallandra, Ulfrick, and even poor little Agna are dead. Lying in pools of blood on the floor, their throats ripped out.
I choke out a sob, and vomit.
"Sookie! I'll have their hides." He says it a little too quietly and calmly. It's scary. "You need to get back to bed." He rubs my back until I take deep breaths again.
"Eric…"
"I was going to prevent it this time, Sookie, I was going to prevent it!" he howls. He picks up a dish and hurls it across the room where is smashes into the wall. The servants scurry away, terrified.
"Eric. Eric, stop!" I walk over to him. I reach up and take his face in my hands. "Have you ever thought maybe you couldn't? That this was destiny? It's a just dream, Eric, I don't know that we can alter history."
"And yet you purposely made sure to let Russell get away. You didn't leave it to fate", he spits, way too observant.
"You're still human."
"Have you so little faith in me?"
"I have faith in you, Eric. But you're only human, and Russell is a two thousand year old vampire already, with a pack of Nazi werewolves! I think history is written, I don't think our dream can change anything. But if I was wrong, he would have killed you. I couldn't take that chance."
He shakes me off, furious. His men are standing around listening, watching us like we've lost our minds. They're confused. They could have sworn it was an animal attack. And yet here are men lying dead where the wolves were standing.
"And what happens when I DIE in battle, Sookie?", Eric yells, "It has to happen if what you say is true. If I don't die, I don't meet Godric and become a vampire, and if I don't become a vampire, we never meet. And therefore cannot be on your bed dreaming together, correct?" He's shouting so angrily, filled with hate. "But that doesn't account for you being here. What if nature takes its course with me, but you're left here alone? What happens when my time comes, Sookie? It's coming fast."
"According to what you said, I may not have any more time than you do", I cry, tears running down my face.
Ysgar has caught up with us. He looks around and howls with anger. Then he hands me the baby.
"Eric, vengeance", he says, shaking with anger and sadness, and clapping my husband on back.
Eric just stares at the bodies of his parents.
"Eric, tell us what to do!" Asgar yells from behind us. "They now have the power of the Underworld. And who knows what things of horror they had to do to harass such power. They are no longer men, but men who turn into animals. I say we kill every Dane!"
Shouts of agreement go up. He bows his head. "Your word is our command, my King."
"Take the Queen and my son back to bed, and DO NOT allow her to leave again", he hisses.
The Queen.
Ysgar isn't brooking my nonsense this time, and sweeps me up in his arms, like I weigh an ounce, faster than I can blink. I'm still cuddling my son.
"Eric!" I cry, but Ysgar already has us out of the room. He kicks open the door to Eric's and my bedroom, and sets me down on my feet.
"Do I need to put a guard on the door?" he asks me.
"No", I whisper, wiping away a tear. "I didn't mean to get you in trouble. I had to know…"
"Eric is only doing what's best for you. He adores you, can't you see that, little one?" Of course I know that.
"I'm average height where I come from, for your information", I frown.
He laughs. "Of course, little one, of course."
"I'll take him while you lie down", he says. I hand the baby to him, and try to lie down on the pallet, but lose my balance.
It's too much, too much stress, too much pressure, I'm too thirsty, too scared, and so very tired. I feel myself falling, and hear the crack of my head hitting the floor and everything is black.
Will I see Gran and Grandaddy? My Momma and Daddy?
But when I open my eyes, everything hurts too bad for me to dead.
Eric is sitting with me, holding my hand against his lips. "You're awake! I'm so sorry, please forgive me, I'm so sorry."
"Eric…"
"First tell me you're all right!"
"I'm all right", I say, squeezing his hand.
"You were right to stop me. You just have no idea how hard it is forgoing vengeance. But my life is with you and our son now. It was the past or the future, and you chose wisely, Sookie. Whether fate had already decided or not", he says.
"The baby has to be starving by now…."
"A new mother in the village is nursing him", Eric says, kissing my hand, "he's fine."
"I didn't mean to say all those things, I'm sorry. You won't watch me die again, nothing will happen to you. I'll wake us up", he insists. When?
"I know all about wanting vengeance, Eric. My Momma and Daddy didn't die in a flood, and you know it. But, we have to worry about our son now."
"You're right", Eric insists. "Now we have to be concerned about getting out of here. I will wake us up, I swear to you."
"Our son doesn't belong in our world. Will he just cease to be? Will he die?" I cry.
He gulps in a breath and says what neither of us wants to say. "I don't know."
I sob and can't stop. "Sookie, Sookie, please, you're killing me. You're breaking my heart", he says through his tears.
"I did this", he says.
"You did this." Maybe later, I can be more merciful, I can forgive. But right now I hate him as much as I love him.
In a day, I recover enough strength to stand, and in two, I can walk. I feel silly just lying around. Naturally, a real Viking mother would have been back on her feet immediately. As has been pointed out. But Ysgar is incredibly concerned and keeps sticking his head in to make sure I'm all right. I can hear him apologizing to Eric for the millionth time.
If Vallandra was still alive, I can only imagine what she'd say. I'll miss her so much. Her advice, her kindness, her friendship, even her teasing. I know Eric's father didn't particularly care for me. But I think that had more to do with wanting his family to survive than real aggression toward me. I wouldn't cry at his loss. And poor little Agna would never get the chance to grow up.
Ulfrick and Vallandra and little Agna are to be cremated on the King's favorite longship. It's to be set on fire and launched into the Baltic Sea. It must be done when the stars are bright, supposedly, so we wait for the cloud cover to dissipate.
But I can't be sad now. I've tried, it's simply impossible. There are ten little nibbly fingers and toes, the deep cooing sound he makes when he's happy, the intake of breath, and cheeks as velvety as peach skin. I love, love, love my son. I can't think about anything else. He makes me smile every minute.
I'm pacing around our room, jiggling him. "Shhhh." He's wailing at the top of his lungs. I refuse to let him spend any more time in the company of midwives or wet nurses. I'm his Momma.
"Momma loves you", I whisper to him, kissing his tender little head. "Sleep. Sleep."
He wails one last time and settles. He's wrapped up tight in little fur blankets.
"You work magic", Eric says, coming back behind me. He cuddles up behind me and wraps his long arms around me, kissing my cheek. He touches the baby's forehead and strokes his soft little cheek. "You glamour him."
He lets me go and backs off, just staring at us. "Vacker." I smile. "Beautiful."
But he can't stay so far away for long, and runs back over. He presses his forehead against mine, and we gaze down at our son.
"He smells good", Eric says.
"He does smell good."
"He looks like you", he says, as I say, "No, he looks like you" at the same time.
"Look at those enormous blue eyes", I say. "Those are from his Daddy."
The baby wails as a tear falls down and smacks him on the forehead.
Tears are slipping down Eric's cheeks.
"Sorry, sorry", he says and we both laugh. "Sorry to wake you, son."
"You're angry" he says to me, "You have every reason to never forgive me."
"Eric, let's not talk about it right now."
My son just wails at the top of his lungs. "He's hungry."
My husband then picks me up and carries us both to the pallet. He sits down, holding me in his lap. "Hold E.J. a sec, I have to pull down my dress."
"E…what? What did you just call my son?" Eric asks, with the eyebrow again.
"Well Eric Jason is a mouthful", I say. The baby is wailing.
"What's-his-name is hungry", I laugh and Eric hands him to me to breastfeed.
"Vikings don't do initials, Sookie."
"His name would really be Eric Ericssohn wouldn't it?" I ask.
Eric narrows his eyes. "How did you know that?"
I roll my eyes at him. "Because I'm a waitress I don't read?"
"I never said that. We both know how smart you are, way too smart sometimes."
Eric watches his son eating, almost astonished. He sucks in a breath and wipes away a tear. "Love you, Sookie."
Oh my. I pull him close. "It's okay, baby, it's okay."
"I will do anything to save you." He worries me. He has that look on his face, that same look he wore the dawn that Godric killed himself.
"Eric, relax. Just like you said, we'll wake up." And it's that moment when I realize he's not so certain of that himself.
"Min kärlek", I whisper to him.
"Min kärlek", he says back to me, and then our son.
I must have fallen asleep because I wake up on our pallet, the baby nearby on a pillow, wrapped up tight. He's sleeping soundly. Eric is nowhere to be found.