Surtorians
Today was the third Sunday Ailia had been back home. She had begged Unni and Brander to please take her to a church sermon, and finally they had conceded. Unni said she didn’t think it was a threat, especially since she had yet to see a Surtorian on church grounds. And it had taken a lot of pleading, but finally, Ailia was able to convince Lucia to come with her.
Arriving at the house of God, Ailia stood in awe for a moment, studying the building’s exterior. The church’s front door was set back behind a shallow porch, which held four supporting wood beams on either side. A single copper cross was embedded above the entrance on the gable roof and two other crosses were also attached to the other two angular rooftops. Vine and swirling designs adorned the oak door and led into an arrival foyer. Stepping inside, Ailia noted how bare it seemed in there. The walls were nothing but plain wood, and the only thing that was carved and embellished was the frame around the door leading into the main chapel. The door itself was tall, narrow and plain. Door frames on either side had interconnecting patterns of snakes, vines and lizards.
When Ailia entered the main chapel, her bosom burned as her eyes lifted toward the high, arching, hand-carved ceilings. Life-like images of Jesus, Mary and his disciples were everywhere. The nearly nude Crucifix hovered with a silent, suffering expression above the platform, gazing down onto the churchgoers where they sat, inviting them to follow. Behind the platform was a circular rotunda with a canopy of brightly painted scenes from the bible and the life of Jesus. Inside the rotunda, stood a silk-embroidered linen tablecloth-covered altar, and to the left of the altar was a door to the back section of the church where the clergymen lived.
Ailia listened intently to the sermon, and again, she was drawn to the merciful and loving teachings of Christ. Yet how could she reconcile what she knew—that she was a Sentinor sent by the Norse gods, and that they did indeed exist—with what she felt in her heart was right, which was to follow Christ Jesus? If one of the religions were true, didn’t that mean the other one must be false? Could they both co-exist?
After the sermon had finished, Unni, Brander, Silya, and Lucia lingered a while longer right outside the church to speak with Bishop Peter. Ailia walked to the side of the building, continuing to study the intricate workmanship. While walking, she listened to their conversation.
“A soon as Ragnvei wanted Gunnar to convert to Christianity, he would have nothing more to do with her. He blamed the dead queen for his misfortune, turning his anger on everyone and eventually supported Eiess,” Brander said.
“I heard there has been another attack on Bergendal,” Unni said. “Small as it was, the attacks are happening more frequently and that is concerning. Last week, they raided the Johansen homestead, pillaging and burning the farm to the ground. They left no survivors. I just don’t understand that kind of brutality and for what, money?”
“All we can do is pray and hope they will stop,” Bishop Peter replied. “Eiess certainly will not defend Bergendal, even though it is off the sweat of our brows she is able to eat and drink.”
“What do you mean?” Lucia asked.
Brander said, “I will give you the short version of the story. Eiess instituted a city tax of fifty percent on all households. Fifty percent! But she didn’t seem to think that was enough. Right after she took the throne, she organized two alternating, traveling crews that would journey to the Southlandic Kingdom every month to pillage wheat, oats, barley and precious metals or jewels to benefit her and her alone. That damned greedy dragon!”
“Brander! Watch your language in front of Princess Lucia and might I remind you that we are in the presence of a servant of the Lord!” Unni said.
Lucia chuckled lightly. “Do not worry about me. I have heard much worse.”
Brander continued. “No compensation is provided to civilians other than the gift of their lives, that is, if they even survive the chancy journey. The leaders of the voyages do receive compensation.”
“How are the travelers selected to go?” Lucia asked.
“Eiess sends her Surtorians out to round up citizens and then she sends them to the Southlandic Kingdom,” Brander said. “I’ve even heard that’s where she sends the huldras too,” he said in a low voice, as he leaned in, his eyebrows rising high.
“Now Brander, that’s just some fabrication,” Unni said, shaking her head. “There’s no such thing as a huldra. A huldra is just a man’s way of coming up with ways to cheat on his wife. Blame it on the huldra’s magical seductive powers, right?”
“My father saw one once with his own eyes!” Brander exclaimed. “Don’t tell me there’s no such thing. She was as beautiful as a goddess and irresistible, he said. It is said that a man cannot resist a huldra’s beauty no matter how loyal a husband he is. Her only purpose is to seduce the poor victim, trap him under her spell, so she can bring him to Eiess, who will devour his very soul.”
“It sounds like an easy way to put the blame on someone else,” Bishop Peter said.
“I can see Eiess doing something like that, though,” Lucia said.
“There, see, I knew it!” Brander said.
Unni huffed. “That’s not proof. Lucia was imprisoned the whole time she was in the Northlandic Castle with Eiess and probably didn’t know what was happening downstairs.”
“True,” Lucia said.
“Besides, your father also said that trolls stole his goats, when in reality he had never even had any goats,” Unni said.
“Er…well, that was one of his delusions. It’s nothing like the huldra story. Anyhow, Eiess hired the Vikings to do her dirty work and head these rampages. Gunnar was one of the Empress’s servants. He claimed he was a true Viking. He sailed throughout the Northlandic Kingdom, ambitiously serving his new mistress. He was enormously successful on his first conquest and the empress rewarded him handsomely. Then, on his second traveling raid, he failed and came back empty-handed. Eiess cast him out of her castle and took back all the prizes she had previously bestowed upon him. He vowed to make her pay one day. Later, I found out that he took his Vikings with him, usurped a small settlement south-east of here, killing all the inhabitants who had previously lived there. They live there still, and his followers are increasing by the day.”
“Soren and I met a couple of them when we traveled. They mentioned Gunnar’s name,” Ailia said, joining their small circle.
“Surtorians,” Lucia whispered.
“What?” Brander said. “Yes, the Surtorians—”
“No, they are coming! Surtorians are coming! Over there.” Lucia pointed.
Down the road, Ailia could see four of them heading in their direction.
“Ailia, Lucia, get inside the church now!” Brander said.
“Oh Allfather!” Lucia seemed to have frozen where she stood.
Ailia grabbed Lucia by the arm and pulled her with her inside the church. “Move!” she said. Running into the church, Ailia searched for a hiding place.
Bishop Peter came up behind them. “This way,” he said, whisking past them to the back. “There is a room back here they will never think to look in.” Storming through the rotunda with the girls on his heels, he opened the door to the back, and led them into a narrow hallway. He squeezed Ailia and Lucia into a small compartment underneath the stairwell. “Do not breathe and do not move, or they’ll find you,” he whispered and shut the door.
Blackness surrounded them, and all Ailia could hear was Lucia’s panting breaths.
“They will find us—I know it,” Lucia whispered.
“Shh,” Ailia said. She could hear Lucia struggling not to cry. Then she heard heavy boots stomping the floor. The Surtorians had made their way into the chapel already. She clenched her hands into fists, digging her fingernails into her palms.
“We are looking for someone,” a Surtorian said, his voice angry and impatient. “A young woman. She has long blond hair, blue eyes.”
“I have not seen anyone who fits that description around here,” Bishop Peter said.
“Do you think I am stupid? I saw someone running into the church with you that fit that very description,” the Surtorian barked.
“She was my daughter. She became frightened when she saw you and ran off into the woods,” Bishop Peter replied.
Ailia heard Bishop Peter groan and then there was a thud. No! She worried they had stabbed him to death. Creaking boots approached the back.
“I know you are here. Come out now and we will spare your life,” one of the Surtorians said.
“Should we surrender?” Lucia whispered.
“No. They’ll kill us,” Ailia whispered back.
The footsteps came closer now, stopping right outside their hiding place. Ailia held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut. She thought the Surtorians might be able to hear her heart racing—it thumped so loud. Lucia whimpered. Suddenly, the door flung open and the Surtorian stood in the doorway. He smelled like sweat and blood.
“There you are!” he said.
“Ailia is the Great Sentinor! I am not the Great Sentinor! It is all a lie; she is the one!” Lucia blurted. “Take her I am innocent, I tell you!”
What? Ailia thought. She didn’t have time to think about what Lucia had just done. The Surtorian pulled them both out into the hallway by their hair. The three others stood behind the first, grunting and laughing in pleasure to have found their prey.
“Princess Lucia, I am glad to see you again,” the Surtorian said. “I have missed taking my frustration out on you.”
“I am not who you think. Ailia is. She is my twin sister and the Great Sentinor. I am just the Sun Queen,” Lucia said.
“I am not here for Ailia. Eiess sent me to get you,” he said.
Ailia heard a loud crash coming from behind them.
“Run, girls, run!” Brander yelled. He had slain one of the Surtorians, stabbing him through and through with his great sword. Then he turned his attention to the one confining them, and stabbed him in the leg.
Ailia took the opportunity, kneed the Surtorian as hard as she could in the groin, and started for the exit door. The Surtorian collapsed to the floor, but he was able to grab hold of Ailia’s skirt and she fell to the floor as he pulled it. Lucia kicked the Surtorian in the face and Ailia was set free. They both bolted toward the exit door and ran outside into the cold winter day. With two Surtorians trailing them, they headed for the woods.
“We will never make it!” Lucia yelled after Ailia. “They are too quick!”
“Don’t you dare stop running!” Ailia yelled back. She didn’t want to let Lucia know that she too was afraid. “I know of some places we can hide in the woods. Just keep running!” She couldn’t think of one at the moment, but she was sure a good hiding place would show up. Ailia’s throat and lungs burned as she inhaled the chill air. It was hard to go fast in the slick snow. She fought off the tears of fear and of betrayal. How could Lucia have done this? Even feeling betrayed, she swore to herself that she wouldn’t let the Surtorians have her or her sister. Lucia was falling further behind now and Ailia stopped to grab her hand, pulling it. “Just keep going!” They dashed past an old shed and approached the frozen over Bergendal river. There were no places to hide in broad daylight.
Exhaustion started to set in, and Ailia looked behind her to see if the Surtorians were still following. Only one was coming up behind them now, but all too quickly. Where did the other one go? For a quarter of a heartbeat Ailia thought she would just give up. Let the Surtorian have her and Lucia. He seemed so strong, so powerful and relentless, just like Eiess. The hesitation cost her valuable time and the distance between them and their slayer was now much shorter. She turned around and kept running. Suddenly, Ailia felt a sharp pain in her right shoulder and fell to the snow.
Lucia, standing next to her, gasped. “You are hit! Oh, Odin in Valhalla, we are going to die!”
Ailia looked down and saw an arrow protruding halfway out of her shoulder. Arising, Ailia turned to face her assassin.
“Lucia, someone wants to see you,” the Surtorian said, nearing her with his arrow aimed at her and ready to shoot.
“You cannot have her,” Ailia said stepping in front of her sister.
The Surtorian dropped his bow and lifted Ailia up by her collar, pushing her up against a tree.
The pain in her wounded shoulder intensified and she tried to scream, but no sound would come out.
The Surtorian’s face was right in hers now. He panted and gnarled like a wolf, his yellow skin as yellow as his fangs. “Do you think you can tackle me? That you can take away my prize? What Eiess wants, Eiess will get and Lucia is the one she has been looking for.”
“Run Lucia, run!” Ailia tried to yell, her voice barely audible. She could no longer see her sister, only the Surtorian in her face. The Surtorian clamped his fists around Ailia’s neck so hard, she couldn’t breathe at all. She squirmed and kicked, trying to free herself from this devil’s grasp, but air and consciousness was running out too quickly.
Then, a sword popped out from the Surtorian’s chest. Blood gushed from his mouth with a cough, splattering onto Ailia’s face. He released her and she tumbled to the snow, drawing air into her lungs, and coughing. She had enough sense about her to dodge the Surtorian as he fell lifeless to the ground beside her.
Brander rushed over to Ailia. “You’re hurt,” he said, carefully lifting her to her feet.
“I’m fine,” Ailia said, studying the protruding arrow. “Where’s Lucia?”
“She’s safe. She ran back to the church,” he said. “Ailia, go home immediately. Ivar and I need to bury these savages before Eiess links any of us to their disappearance. A few people saw what happened, but they’ll cover for us.” He walked Ailia down to the church where Unni and Lucia waited with Bishop Peter. “Unni, take her home. Ivar and I will be back as soon as we can.”
When Ailia saw Bishop Peter, she said, “I was so worried they had hurt you.” She felt relieved he was safe.
“By the grace of the Almighty, I shall recover soon,” Bishop Peter said. “Come. Let us go. I will join you back to Brandersgaard to help tend to your wound.”
* * *
Back home at Brandersgaard, Ailia was glad to finally sit down. Each step on her way back home had inflamed the pain she felt from the arrow and blood had oozed down her nice red Sunday dress, saturating it and her tan wool overcoat.
“The arrow has to come out now,” Bishop Peter said, sitting next to her. He wasted no time and didn’t even bother to prepare Ailia. He snapped the arrow in two and pulled it out on either side.
Ailia screamed. The pain was intense, so intense that she saw splotches of blackness as her head began to spin.
“I will need to sew you up so the bleeding stops,” Bishop Peter said.
“How did you learn to be so callous?” Ailia asked, still upset he hadn’t even bothered to warn her about what he was doing. Soren had been much more careful than this man.
“Before I was converted unto the Lord, I trained as an archer for King Olav. It was then that I learned to tend to wounds such as this one,” he said. “Unni, may I please have some fresh water, plenty of clean towels, a needle, and some string?”
Unni left, and soon she returned with the items in hand. She sat down next to Ailia, who had now laid down on the bench. “Lucia is crying in the back room. She says she feels terrible she gave you away to the Surtorians. She doesn’t even want to show her face.”
Ailia took a deep breath. “I’ll talk to her later,” she said. First, she needed to get through this and then, she needed to process what had happened in the church. Ailia was still shocked how easily Lucia had betrayed her.
After another round of torture, Ailia made her way to the back room.
Lucia sat crying in the corner on the floor, but rose to her feet as soon as Ailia walked in. “Ailia, I am so sorry I said what I said. I do not know what came over me. I was—so scared and I did not want to go back to the tower to be tortured and then, I just—” She did not finish the sentence, but covered her face with her hands and started crying.
“Lucia.” Ailia reached her hand toward her sister.
“Please, please forgive me, I beg of you,” Lucia said, tears trailing down her face, her voice carrying a desperate plea. “I will never betray you again, I promise.”
Ailia pulled her closer and gave Lucia a soft hug. Her shoulder hurt and she pulled back. “Sorry, my shoulder… I forgive you, Lucia.” Although, it wasn’t the complete truth. A part of her heart had been shattered so thoroughly that she feared not even time would mend its brokenness.
That night, Ailia lay awake thinking before sleep took her. She wished Soren was here with her now, to support her, to explain things to her, but to her great dismay, Ailia’s recollection of Soren had started to fade.