In the medieval city of Paris, fifteen-year-old Princess Gisele bears witness to her fatherâs historic efforts to negotiate a peace treaty with the notorious Viking warlord Rolf, a villain who is known throughout the land by his fierce battlefield alias, Rollo. It is only after the negotiations have concluded that she learns her fateâto become the warlordâs wife.
A Viking chieftain of renown, Rolf leads thousands of warriors. Experienced and cunning, he senses that the era of unrestrained violence by Northmen is coming to a close. He moves quickly to settle his men on the land he has been given around Rouen.
Rolfâs sovereignty over the land, granted under the terms of the fragile peace treaty, is threatened on all sides by scheming enemies. Noblemen in Paris resent the kingâs offer of peace with their old foe. A Danish king covets the land. And disaffected men within Rolfâs own ranks plot to overthrow him.
Is his young wife, Gisele, the ally Rolf needs to meet these challenges? Can she adapt to her role as wife of this strange and violent man?
Gisele and the Northman is a fictional novel set in the turbulent era of tenth century France.
In the medieval city of Paris, fifteen-year-old Princess Gisele bears witness to her fatherâs historic efforts to negotiate a peace treaty with the notorious Viking warlord Rolf, a villain who is known throughout the land by his fierce battlefield alias, Rollo. It is only after the negotiations have concluded that she learns her fateâto become the warlordâs wife.
A Viking chieftain of renown, Rolf leads thousands of warriors. Experienced and cunning, he senses that the era of unrestrained violence by Northmen is coming to a close. He moves quickly to settle his men on the land he has been given around Rouen.
Rolfâs sovereignty over the land, granted under the terms of the fragile peace treaty, is threatened on all sides by scheming enemies. Noblemen in Paris resent the kingâs offer of peace with their old foe. A Danish king covets the land. And disaffected men within Rolfâs own ranks plot to overthrow him.
Is his young wife, Gisele, the ally Rolf needs to meet these challenges? Can she adapt to her role as wife of this strange and violent man?
Gisele and the Northman is a fictional novel set in the turbulent era of tenth century France.
In the year of our Lord 911 ...
Listen, Friend, and I shall tell you the story of how it came to be that I, a princess of Francia, was betrothed to the brigand Rolf.
I call you friend for you shall be the bearer of all my heartache. I have no other confidante but youâmy written accountâto tell how all this came to pass and how fortune will transpire in the days ahead.
The deeds of men who are heroes are immortalized in epic tales and song. I am no hero. I am just a woman. My name is Gisele, and I shall be sixteen years of age come Easter.
For some time now, the great city Paris has been besieged by the Northmen. Their attacks began in early fall, and for a few weeks my father, King Charles, thought he had driven them off, and they would see the futile nature of assaulting us, so we were brave and fearless. But they returned and laid siege to the city, which has dragged on and on. We have spent the weeks since Epiphany locked within the confines of the city walls. Our water is plentiful, but our food has been rationed carefully for all that time, for the Northmen have seized our shipments of supplies and blocked trade upon the river Seine.
Each day, I went with the people to the cathedral and prayed, âDeliver us, O God, from these heathen men who seek to destroy us.â Yet still they were here. Father began to despair that pestilence would spread and take us all. He huddled with his advisors to determine the best course of action.
Many days ago, Father sent Franco, the archbishop of Rouen, as an emissary to find the chief of the Northmen and to convey terms for peace. I watched from the city walls as the cleric rode bravely out on horseback. I feared only his head would return.
But this morning I learned that His Excellency had been sighted, and I returned to my place on the wall. I watched as he was rowed back on the Seine in a boat full of Northmen. They were not true soldiers, to my eye. Their garb and armaments were too plain and rough.
As they drew up to the island of Paris, the archbishop held back to be the hostage of the Northmen in the boat while their leaders entered the city. They were three in number. A fourth turbaned man followed in their wake, and I was told later that he was learned in many languages and could translate.
I observed this first about the chieftain of the Northmen: he was very tall. He must have stood a head taller than my father. His shoulders were broad. He did not seem stout but rather was strongly built. His face and arms were tanned and weathered. His fair hair was plaited in the back, and he wore his beard long. He was shielding his eyes from the sun at first, but then I saw that they were a pure blue. I had never seen such; they were like the sky. I saw this clearly because, as the boat neared the city, he glanced up for an instant, and his eyes met mine.
I mentioned all this to the captain of the guard.
âTall indeed, Princess, though his race are all tall men. You will see just how much so in a few moments, for I must escort them. If you will excuse me, I must hasten to the gate.â The captain turned to go.
I then watched as the Northman and his companions strode with ease beside the captain and his guard of Frankish soldiers. I saw them fearlessly surrender their weapons before entry into the fortress, and from there they were escorted to the great hall. I saw many of my countrymen shy away on seeing the fiends up close.
The doors of the great hall were then closed during the negotiations, and much time passed with no one emerging. No ladies of the court were permitted into the parley because of the great fear of treachery from the Northmen. I was getting cold and bored watching from the top of the wall, so I descended and made my way to my private chamber to get warm and dine at midday. The day dragged on, and I spent the afternoon teaching one of my sisters to read from my book of prayers.
The sun set, and light faded into dusk. I was told the parley was ending, and I wanted to watch again as the Northmen left, but I was held back by a message that Father wanted to speak to me. I went through the great hall to the council chamber, where Father was waiting for me, and I greeted him respectfully. He was nursing his back. It seemed he had fallen, but he did not want to talk about it. âLeave us,â he ordered, directing his guards out of the room, and I was alone with him. I waited, as was customary, for Father to speak.
âOur discussions with the Northmen went well today.â Father seemed nervous and would not look directly at me. He sat and stared at some documents and shuffled them about. âThis chieftain of theirs ... Rolf. Did you see him today?â
âYes, Father. I was on the wall of the city as he entered the gate.â
âMore importantly, Gisele, did he see you?â
âYes, I believe it was he. The one with blue eyes? He looked up and must have seen me just before he entered the gate. Why, Father? Did I do wrong?â
âThis Rolf, their chieftain ... He added a demand to the conditions we put forth.â Father paused. I sensed that something had gone horribly wrong but waited for him to continue. âHe will take a Frankish wife. It seems he meant you.â
At this I was stricken with a mortal fear. I fell prostrate before my father and grasped his ankles and implored him not to allow this thing to happen. Father does not like the shrill cries of women, so despite my groveling, he would not honor my pleas.
âDaughter, you have been aware for many years that I would choose your husband for diplomatic reasons. And you have five younger sisters for whom I must also find husbands. Would you prefer I had offered one of them?
âI also remind you that there are at least a thousand widows with children in this city whose husbands fell defending Paris. They are now my burden, Gisele. How many more must be widowed? Tell me! It is my constant heartache.â
Then he said, âYou do not know the trials of a king who has daughters but no sons. If I had a son, it would be different. There would be an heir to the throne. Believe me, Gisele, there are already knives sharpened for this kingdom if I die suddenly. You and your sisters must be provided for. I beg you will try to find something to like about him, Gisele. I must ask you to do this thing. This is your duty for the sake of Francia. A treaty for peace hangs in the balance.â
I felt like Isaac with Abraham, his father, poised over him ready to plunge the knife. But God will not deliver me from sacrifice.
Tomorrow I will meet the Northman, and we will be married.
According to Father, these heathen piratesâthese Northmanni, these Daniâfirst appeared during the reign of my ancestor Charlemagne, when they began attacking monasteries off the coast of England. They made off with their plunder and killed or enslaved the monks. Then they began the extortion of silver and gold from Francia by attacking cities on the coast and on the Loire and the Seine. They would only leave when they were paid off. They have done this continuously now for almost a century. They invaded and settled in northern England and established lordship there. Twenty-six years ago, they laid siege to Paris. Then some months ago, they returned to harass us.
The Northman Rolf, Father told me, is one and the same as the scourge the people call Rollo, who has been a particular thorn in the kingâs side since my grandfatherâs time. I have heard Frankish mothers warn their children to behave or the Northman Rollo will come and take them and roast them for his supper. I have heard him called a beast; a horned, forked-tongue devil breathing fire; a monster bent on lustful rape of our women. Men and women spat on hearing his name. They called him a dog, a swine, every vile name there is. All of these things I am convinced are true. This is the man who will be my husband.
Father told me this Rolf was a leader in the attack on Paris twenty-six years ago. That means he is at least fifty years of age. He is ancient!
⢠⢠â˘
Cursing softly, I laid aside my quill and looked at what I had written. Church bells interrupted my thoughts. It was the hour of Compline, the prayer at the end of the day. I resolved to write often to my friendâmy precious parchment. I opened my small chest and looked at the hoarded bits and scraps of vellum and parchment I collected each time I visited Father in his private chamber. I laid my writing inside the chest carefully and looked at my supplies. I was going to need more.
Fifteen-year-old Gisele is the daughter of King Charles the Simple of West Francia. For political reasons, her father marries her off to Jarl Rolf ("Rollo"), a notorious Viking who has been wreaking havoc in King Charles' territory and has the age of fifty in his rearview mirror. As cringe-worthy as these stories from earlier centuries can get, Gisele and the Northman by RH Mai turned out to be a riveting tale of unexpected love, the power of patience, and the sentimental insensibilities of the human race. All of this made me feel everything from warm, fuzzy emotions to incredible suspicion and worry; the telltales of a remarkable read.
Set in the year 911, this historical fiction novel charts the founding of Normandy. The history lies in the characters and the fiction in the story told. The story is told from the view of Gisele and an omniscient narrator (showing mostly Rollo's experiences). Through these different narrative experiences, we get to see and experience the characters in different lights and come to understand who they are and why they are becoming the people they are becoming.Â
If this sounds like it is a wholesome, artistically-woven tale that you can feast your eyes upon, you're right: it is. This book has a layered plot that seemed to peel further every time I thought I had the story figured out. It also has multidimensional characters that turn out to have more to them than initially anticipated. Additionally, I found myself wrapped in indescribable intrigue that pulled me deeper into the story and got me hooked, making putting this book down an ongoing battle for me. I hope you walk that journey as well.
If you enjoy political, philosophical, historical, and religious content, this book will satisfy those interests with its themes of religion and marriage, and its motifs of political consciousness and budding feminism. You might think that the latter subjects have no place in such an ancient setting but Mai is such a talented writer that she seamlessly weaves them into the fabric of this story without making them seem out of place. This was truly an exceptional read so go ahead and give it a shot.