Valkyrie Sigrdrífa

King Lot had won. Anderson's tribe was utterly finished.

"I will destroy Anderson's tribe!"

As King Lot spoke, the nobles present fell silent. This was in keeping with the established rules, for it was all Odin's judgment. Even though King Lot had killed Anderson during the assembly and harmed Thor's authority as the council's protector, they could only tacitly accept his "justice."

The Viking Kingdom was a confederation of all tribes. Therefore, matters concerning the kingdom as a whole had to be decided through discussion and voting among the tribes. Not even the king could casually punish any tribal leader unless his crimes had first been confirmed and he had received a fair trial.

The Blood Eagle Ritual was the fairest trial. King Lot's victory proved that Anderson and his tribe were guilty.

The curses of those who had suffered injustice were often especially sharp and effective, particularly when witnessed by the gods. Now that victory had been won, the curse born from the injustice suffered by Anderson's daughter was naturally invalid and held no power.

No one saw any problem with this. The gods of Northern Europe and Greece were no moral exemplars. Rather than benevolent gods, they were gods who upheld order and appeared as rulers.

Odin, too, would resort to deception to defeat his enemies.

Odin had won, so no one could condemn him.

Anderson's daughter was in the bloom of youth and beauty. Soldiers dragged the princess by the hair, iron chains wrapped around her arms, hatred written across her face. King Lot said, "Marry one of my sons, and I can forgive the crimes of you and your tribe."

This was annexation in another form. King Lot had nearly a hundred queens and over a hundred princes. It was impractical to keep all his sons within the tribe, so they were married into other tribes.

A century from now, every tribal royal family would carry his bloodline. That would undoubtedly be a tremendous victory for him.

"Pah! Even if Odin stands at your side, I will still curse you—curse your family!"

The girl spat. King Lot merely wiped his face and said, "Sons, help me kill them. Prove your courage to me."

The three princes who had participated in the blood sacrifice eagerly rushed forward. Every person Anderson had brought with him had already been betrayed by the nobles guided by King Lot and handed over.

Only harsh punishment could maintain the order of society and the state. Those who defied the tribe and the king's decisions would be torn apart by horses. These laws were carved in runes upon the stone tablets beneath Odin's statue; they were the very foundation of the Viking Kingdom.

King Lot used such methods to rule these tribal leaders, and they used the same methods to rule their own people.

A one-eyed prince picked up a sword and plunged it straight into the princess's stomach. She raised a hand, still trying to curse him, but as the blade twisted in her belly, she lost her life.

Gawain sat in his place with clenched fists, his expression dark. Torment welled up within him.

He could accept killing any man on the battlefield or in a challenge, and he could accept any challenge himself. But the upbringing he had received from his mother prevented him from committing such cruelty.

"Whenever you come across a church on the road, remember to go inside and recite a prayer. If you see wine and meat and truly need food and drink, yet no one invites you out of kindness or courtesy, you may take some yourself. If you hear someone crying for help, go and see what is happening—especially if it is a woman calling for help. That should concern you more than anything else in the world."

His mother had taught Gawain the lessons of Pirdue. These were the responsibilities a man ought to possess; a knight was expected to fulfill even stricter duties.

To Viking warriors, an enemy willing to surrender should be made a slave. If they refused to surrender, they could be killed.

Under the lead of the three princes, Anderson's tribesmen were soon physically exterminated. Only Gawain remained seated, completely motionless.

The gods so revered courage, and so did earthly kings and warriors. Even an enemy, so long as he was brave enough, could earn the admiration of gods and men alike.

"Prince Gawain, it seems you have yet to kill these traitors and prove your courage."

"Had I not already fought with all my strength during the sacrifice?"

"To be frank, that is not enough. You may be invincible on the battlefield, but you have yet to show fearlessness. Look—your brothers have all gouged out one of their own eyes, just like Odin, while you..."

A noble raised his wine cup and spoke loudly, his voice echoing through the entire hall. King Lot, who had been satisfied moments ago, immediately darkened.

"Prince, you must prove that you are fit to rule. Odin promised royal power to your family. Your uncle killed your grandfather and seized the throne, while your father killed your uncle and secured the throne. Now, it is your turn to prove yourself."

As one noble spoke, he clapped his hands. A surviving remnant of Anderson's family was brought over: an infant less than a year old, still swaddled in cloth.

As one branch of the Germanic peoples, the Vikings deeply believed in Germanic tradition. They believed their kings were descendants of Odin, their bloodlines traceable back to him, and thus only royalty could become king.

The king had to come from a family chosen by Odin. This was the divine right of kings. Both Lot and Gawain bore the mission bestowed by the gods because Odin's blood flowed through their veins.

Of course, according to tradition, a king's election and succession required the approval of the citizens' assembly and the nobles, and power had to be exercised within the bounds of customary law.

It sounded as though the king was sacred, but there was a massive flaw in it.

While the king's authority and legitimacy did indeed come from Odin, that authority was not granted to the king alone. It was granted to the family into which the king had been born.

The king's family was favored by the gods, sacred, and descended from Odin. Thus, even if a king was deposed, the next king would still be a member of that family. Kingship belonged to that sacred house.

King Lot's uncle had deposed his grandfather and become king. That had been legitimate. Therefore, when King Lot killed his uncle and ascended the throne, that too had been legitimate.

Killing one's own brother violated everyone's morals, but if one wished to become king and could not prove his ruthlessness—could not defend his throne before his brothers—then becoming king would only lead to the same fate as the previous king.

In the Middle Ages, seizing royal power through individual force was never recognized as legitimate, unless it was internal strife within the royal family.

The baby cried and babbled, perhaps already sensing the fate awaiting him. Gawain took a deep breath. When all the nobles turned their eyes toward him, he drew in another long breath and said, "I can't do it!"

An uproar erupted.

The nobles stared dumbfounded at Prince Gawain as he said he could not do it. Even King Lot, who had been raising his cup in triumphant celebration, wore a horrified expression.

It was only killing someone. What was the big deal? His brothers had killed countless people today, yet he was saying he could not do it.

"It is only a baby! Use your axe or spear. One chop or one thrust, and it will die quickly—just like crushing an ant!"

Another noble stepped forward as he spoke. Killing a child was surely easier than killing an adult, especially when the child could not resist at all.

"Kill him!"

"Prince, kill him!"

"Our vice-king, kill him!"

"Future king, please kill him!"

Seeing his son hesitate, a flash of disappointment crossed King Lot's eyes. Yes, in this outstanding son of his, he saw indecision. He saw innocence.

Justice and kindness were things a ruler should not possess.

Even Uther of Britain had once been close friends with the Duke of Cornwall. But when Uther fell in love with the duke's wife and received Merlin's prophecy that she could bear him a child, the two former friends became bitter enemies.

Yet even that monarch was regarded as an enlightened ruler. It was truly laughable.

Only Uther's son, Arthur, would boast of fairness, justice, and kindness. He was merely fortunate to have been born in Britain, far from the continent, and to have prolonged external wars divert domestic tensions. Otherwise...

If Arthur had been a Viking king, he would have long been overthrown, just like his father.

Gawain truly carried that family's bloodline. He was the nephew of that foolish king.

He could not even bring himself to act against a baby because of his compassion.

Then how could he kill even more people when necessary in the future?

Encouraging cries rang throughout the court. Why show mercy to traitors? They had dared plot against the son of Odin, so naturally they deserved death.

This was justice—the greatest justice in the world.

Valkyrie Thrúd coldly watched it all, listening to the rising waves of voices and thunderous cheers. As an apprentice Valkyrie, she still did not understand whether this was right.

In truth, the values of gods and humans differed enormously. Valkyries, especially those with long lives, found many human actions impossible to comprehend.

Gawain looked at the cheering nobles around him. Even the nobles from other tribes had now pledged their submission to him. As long as he killed this surviving member of Anderson's family, everyone would support him as Earl of Iceland, vice-king of Denmark, and the future king.

The nobles pushed Gawain forward, and everyone encouraged him. Even King Lot, who had returned to his throne, wore an encouraging smile.

Come on, Gawain. You can do it. You definitely can.

Eradicating the entire family line was Viking tradition. Otherwise, another tale of a prince's revenge might unfold, and such stories were extremely common in Viking lands.

Odin praised the victorious.

What Odin wanted were warriors among men.

Sigrdrífa descended from the sky into the castle. Her body turned into mist, passing through the court until she reached Thrúd's side. The Valkyrie watched the prince swept along by everyone around him, assessing him with a scrutinizing gaze.

Everyone was forcing this warrior.

This youth was the nephew of Arthur, that great warrior.

Even in appearance alone, the young prince looked astonishingly like that king in his prime. Not only their looks, but their temperament as well, were identical. He could practically be called Arthur's double—the difference between the sun and the moon.

"Sister, do you think Prince Gawain is right to kill a baby?"

Thrúd looked confused. She did not understand these human actions, and she was still unable to properly fulfill her duties as a Valkyrie.

"I do not know whether it is right or wrong. It is simply commonplace on the battlefield. It seems to have been this way since ancient times. War has always been accompanied by slaughter."

Sigrdrífa spoke, though in truth, influenced by Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, she too felt out of place amid the brutal wars of these Vikings.

The warriors she had once admired had indeed been brave and fearless like this. Being cruel to women, children, and the unarmed was not a mark against them—it was a mark in their favor.

In rank and status, Valkyries were Odin's maidservants. Yet as attendants of the god of war, they were warriors as well.

In Northern Europe, many women worshiped Valkyries like them, dressed in imitation of them, and became warriors.

In this land steeped in domineering masculinity, women who wanted to become warriors had to show even greater brutality than men to earn a place in this society of male fighters. This was why the female warriors of the Amazons in Greece had been so famous: they cut off one of their breasts, leaving only one to nurse their children.

Sigrdrífa had believed that was simply what warriors were, because it had always been that way.

Until she repeatedly saw those Knights of the Round Table on the battlefield: they did not slaughter enemies who surrendered, treated the elderly, the weak, women, and children with courtesy, and did not attack unarmed opponents. It allowed her to witness a warrior's charm completely unlike that of Viking fighters.

Chivalry.

Sigrdrífa had felt the appeal of chivalry, but she could not say such things to her companions. Thrúd would be all right, but if other Valkyries or the warriors of Valhalla heard it, they would only mock her. "You are talking to me about chivalry? It is laughable. After I kill his whole family, let us see whether he still talks to me about chivalry."

"Sorry, but I like children. I can't do it!" Gawain shoved away the spear handed to him by a comrade and spoke words that shocked everyone.

What? He liked children, so he could not do it?

"Prince, this is tradition. It has been this way since ancient times: kill your enemies and their families to bear witness to your bravery," a soldier could not help saying.

"Does something being ancient make it right?"

Gawain looked at everyone and took a long breath. "Killing a future enemy out of fear, then using that to display one's courage and strength—that is not courage, nor is it strength. If you put on armor and pick up a weapon, then think yourself powerful because protective gear keeps you safe, and therefore fear nothing, that is not true courage or true strength. Odin will not favor such a warrior! If he seeks revenge someday, let him come for me!"

After saying this, Gawain saw the mocking looks in the nobles' eyes and King Lot's disappointed back as he turned away. He waved his hand.

Then Gawain saw the slaughter. A small life vanished just like that. His brothers wiped the blood from their weapons and looked at him with smug expressions.

"Pedophile!" His brothers mocked Gawain with their one remaining eyes.

"Sister, is Prince Gawain really a pedophile?" Thrúd cried out in shock. Looking at Gawain's once handsome face, she now thought he looked like a bug, like filth.

"No. Gawain is not a pedophile. It is because he is a Christian. Like Arthur, he believes in the chivalry of that new god..."

Sigrdrífa explained on Gawain's behalf, then suddenly sensed an immense, profound gaze. She instantly realized something: she had said the wrong thing.

Odin's will and Thor's will had already descended. Odin had been drawn by the blood sacrifice, while the other was the assembly's guardian. Their conversation had happened to be overheard by both great gods.

"Father!"

"Father!"

The two Valkyries spoke, while King Lot and the nobles, because of the gods' arrival, saw the two Valkyries descend before them in an instant.

"Odin has cursed Prince Gawain and taken away his courage!" A witch's nostrils and eyes bled as she delivered Odin's judgment. Then she collapsed to the floor, barely breathing.

Great gods could not easily manifest directly in the mortal world. Valkyries, as demigods and lesser gods, were not subject to such restrictions. Gawain fell to his knees. Everyone understood that because of the Valkyrie's words, the prince had been cursed by Odin, forever stripped of his heroic spirit and his courage.

Clearly, Gawain could no longer become king.

A warrior without courage was unqualified to be king. At least, not in Northern Europe. He might not even be able to keep his life.

Valkyrie Sigrdrífa's expression darkened. She had not expected that a few words from her would cost Gawain his courage.

"I am Valkyrie Sigrdrífa, daughter of Odin. Odin is greatly pleased with this sacrifice. Those slain in battle shall ascend to Valhalla. In the name of his daughter, I solemnly declare that even though Prince Gawain has had his courage taken from him, if he dies on the battlefield, I will personally carry away his soul. But murder will cost Odin a great warrior, and it will bring our punishment."

Sigrdrífa realized that Gawain's position would become exceptionally difficult after losing his courage. This was all her responsibility, so she revealed herself and spoke for him.

Arthur had just defeated Odin's avatar, Woden. Therefore, mentioning Arthur would inevitably attract Odin's attention, especially when it involved the new faith. Odin would certainly punish her.

It could even shake King Lot's authority, and that would not do. King Lot was a monarch favored by Odin, and his powerful rule could stabilize Northern Europe.

The Valkyrie's declaration before the people prompted murmurs among the nobles. King Lot stared in shock, trying to understand why this was happening. Only she wore a radiant smile as she said, "The man Father dislikes is not necessarily disliked by his daughter."

Those words carried deep meaning. Younger warriors might not understand, but those with children—those who had become fathers—could grasp their implication.

King Lot, your son has made it big. Odin's daughter has taken a liking to your son.

Sigrdrífa looked at Gawain, unconscious on the ground, and sighed inwardly. This youth, so much like Arthur, had lost his path to kingship because of her words.

As a Valkyrie, her heart should not have been stirred by emotion. Had she stayed in Britain too long and acquired "chivalry" as well?

With that thought, Sigrdrífa's body became mist and vanished from the hall. Thrúd, however, wore a pitifully aggrieved expression as she said unwillingly, "Sister, why did you steal the man I liked?"