The Weaver and the Witch Queen

by Genevieve Gornichec

Gunnhild,

Oddny

Eirik’s face darkened. “Because it’s not right for men to practice magic. Men are meant to pick up swords and fight out their problems. Magic is for cowards and women.” “And yet,” Gunnhild said, “you honor the likeness of Odin in the main hall and the armory and the temple. Is he not also a witch? Did Freyja not also teach him magic?” “Odin is different,” Eirik said stiffly, with an infuriating matter-of-factness that made her suspect that he was regurgitating the words of another. She had a strong suspicion as to who. “He’s also the patron of kings.” “But did Rognvald not also honor him?” she pressed. “Tell me—before you burned him alive in his hall, did you see whose statue your brother had lofted upon his lintel?”

“I find you endlessly vexing. It’s clear to me now that you’ve never had an original thought in your entire life. You’re King Harald’s creature through and through. You’re lucky to have Arinbjorn at your side—he sees the need to humble you, lest your head get as big as your father’s.”

—but it seems,” King Harald continued, “you’ve only given his new wife a chance to prove her wit.” “It would’ve been a good plan had she been a lesser woman,” added Queen Gyda, not without a hint of bitterness, as though the words tasted foul on her tongue. “But now it’s time to take your seats.”

Eirik stepped away from the door and stood up straighter. “Well, you’re more frustrating by far. The first time I saw you, I thought to myself, That is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And then you opened your mouth.”

About two moons after Winternights came Yule,

Oddny flushed but decided to say nothing. The privilege of getting to know the person she lay with before bedding them was one she knew many people weren’t granted, and that made her cherish it all the more—enough to keep it close.

If dying for Halldor’s vengeance was the fate the Norns had spun for me, I would have gladly met it.” “I saved your life!” “By ruining my reputation and sullying my honor—the most important things a man has, especially if that man is a king. I would rather have died.” “Your reputation and honor were sullied before we even met. That was no fault of mine.”

“Good,” said Freyja soothingly. “How will you ever master your fear if you won’t admit to feeling it in the first place? Embrace it. Wield it. Things are only going to get more difficult from here. But in the end, it shall be worth it.”

No bride-price or dowry would change hands; no official witnesses would be needed for the marriage. It simply was, because they said it was so, and in their world that was as unheard-of as a man giving up vengeance in favor of happiness, as a woman determining her own future without her family’s consent.

Oddny made for the main hall, and the moment she threw the door open, she was greeted with a group of civilians ready to attack: all with familiar faces, armed with everything from whalebone weaving swords to pitchforks and, in the case of the cookhouse girls, several heavy frying pans.

“I should have been better to you, Thorolf Skallagrimsson,” she said. “I’m sorry. I wish to be known as someone who’s good to her friends and terrible to her enemies,

Gunnhild, who had appeared at Oddny’s darkest time and offered her support, who had kept alive her hope that Signy would one day be found. Gunnhild, who had done her best to bring Signy home even after she and Oddny had gone their separate ways. Gunnhild, who was as determined to make her enemies pay as she was to keep her loved ones safe. Gunnhild, indomitable.

AUTHOR’S NOTE IN HIS 2020 BOOK Children of Ash and Elm, Viking Age scholar Neil Price says that “History is . . . sometimes akin to a sort of speculative fiction of the past.” I took this idea further by making The Weaver and the Witch Queen a work of historical fantasy instead of historical fiction, but there are a few things I want to mention in regard to what historians know versus what I filled in or created to fit my narrative.

With that said, many sources detail the life of Gunnhild, Mother of Kings, and her depictions are largely negative and often contradictory. The one thing that most agree on is that she was a powerful and influential woman in her time, for better or worse. Although it’s generally agreed that Gunnhild was most likely a Danish princess, for the purposes of this story I chose to follow the origin stories that describe Gunnhild as a Halogalander and a sorceress. Since many of the sources are often in direct conflict with one another, I had to be careful in choosing which ones I would draw from. I ended up relying most heavily on two medieval Icelandic works, Egil’s Saga and Snorri Sturluson’s Heimskringla, although these two often contradict each other, too. However, they both corroborate the same origin story for Gunnhild, and I personally enjoy her depiction in Egil’s Saga as the lifelong antagonist to the title character, Thorolf’s brother Egil, who is mentioned in this novel (though not by name). Heimskringla tends to jump around in time, making it difficult to establish a chronology. Likewise, Egil’s Saga fudges the dates of certain historical events attested more reliably elsewhere, and both diverge from mainland sources in a variety of ways, tweaking events to fit the story the author was trying to tell. I did much the same in the writing of this book. For example, I made Gunnhild’s magic teacher an old woman named Heid, not the “Finnish wizards” (that is, Sámi noaidi) f...

The magic system in this novel, while inspired by historical sources, is largely from my own imagination.

My studies of the Viking Age from textbooks, podcasts, and museums, and through my own hands-on experiences with living history, informed much of this book. “Viking” was a job title, not a race of people. Women would often travel alongside men, especially when they were settling in other lands, but would also sometimes stay home and tend to the farm, and defend it against other Vikings if necessary. Divorce was not taboo and could be initiated by either the husband or the wife. Textile work, for which women were largely responsible, was not treated as unimportant; everyone needs clothing, and the Vikings would not have gotten far without sails for their ships. And while I do believe Viking warrior women existed and should be celebrated, I also believe a woman does not have to pick up a weapon and engage in combat in order to have a story worth telling. The stubborn, clever, resourceful women of the Icelandic sagas are proof enough of this, even if their choices are sometimes questionable. Finally, although separate gender roles are likely to have existed in the Viking Age, this isn’t to say that people never crossed or blurred the boundaries between these spheres. Queerness is not a new phenomenon, and Halldor’s experience as depicted in this novel is just one way that someone we would interpret as transgender could have lived. We’ll never know how many people we’d recognize today as LGBTQIA+ have been omitted from history, but we have always been here, and we always will be.

*—denotes a quasi-historical figure

Gunnhild Ozurardottir*—a witch; later known in history as Gunnhild, Mother of Kings

Eirik Haraldsson*—the chosen successor of his father, King Harald, and second king of Norway; later known as Eirik Blood-axe Thorolf Skallagrimsson*—one of Eirik’s hirdsmen, an Icelander whose family’s interactions with Norwegian royalty are recounted in Egil’s Saga

King Harald*—the first king of Norway, who united the country under one rule; father of Eirik Blood-axe, among many children by many wives

Hakon Haraldsson*—son of King Harald and Thora; known in history as King Hakon the Good Snaefrid Svasadottir†*—a Sámi former wife of King Harald; mother of Rognvald and three other sons; said to have bewitched the king for years until her death

To Dr. Merrill Kaplan, in whose classrooms the spark of my passion for the Viking Age was first lit, changing the course of my life forever. To Drs. John Sexton and Andy Pfrenger from Saga Thing, a podcast that has kindled my love of the Icelandic sagas and kept me company during long walks and even longer road trips. To Dr. Mathias Nordvig and Daniel Farrand from The Nordic Mythology Podcast and the amazing guests they’ve hosted over the years. To all the academics who have made their work accessible—there are too many of you to list here, but I do want to thank Drs. Alexander Lykke and Rolf Thiel for personally answering some questions I had. To fellow Viking Age historical fantasy author Thilde Kold Holdt for taking the time to share your experience of sailing on a Viking ship. None of the people listed above are responsible for what I did with what I learned from them, but they have my thanks.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Genevieve Gornichec earned her degree in history from the Ohio State University, but she got as close to majoring in Vikings as she possibly could, and her study of Norse myths and Icelandic sagas became her writing inspiration. Her national bestselling debut novel, The Witch’s Heart, has been translated into more than ten languages. She lives in Cleveland, Ohio.