The Viking Maiden Box Set

by Kelly N. Jane

  Jorg, Selby, and Plintze stood off to the side, out of the way, ignoring the stares and startled noises from those who hustled around them.

  It’s a good thing Lazuli isn’t with us yet. Won’t all these poor folks be surprised?

  “I’m looking forward to that.” Jorg chuckled.

  “What is that?” Selby pointed from Ingrid to Jorg. “There is something going on between you two, and it’s been like that since we left the village. Jorg says things that sound like he’s answering you, except you said nothing.”

  “It’s hard to explain. On our journey through the moors—” Ingrid stared at Jorg with a soft look on her face “—he heard my thoughts in his head. He tried to keep it from me for a while, but I caught on.”

  “So, you talk to each other in your heads?”

  “It only goes one way. He can hear me, but I can’t hear him.” Ingrid glanced at Jorg, expecting to see his typical grin about the subject, but he was staring at Bremen with a concerned expression.

  What’s happening?

  “It’s an elf skill,” Plintze said. “Usually it can only happen between two elves, from what I’ve heard of it.”

  Selby started to ask another question, but Bremen strode up to them in a rush.

  “My mother has sailed from Ireland and arrived on the coast this morning. There was no reason given in the message received, but I can think of nothing to make her take such a risk unless there has been terrible trouble back home. She should be here by tomorrow morning.”

  A sick feeling twisted in Ingrid’s stomach. The darkness oozed lazily forward when she thought about the vision she’d had earlier. Now the queen was in jeopardy, too.

  18

  Selby pulled Ingrid aside the next day while they waited for the queen’s arrival. “I’m such a fool.” She charged right into the conversation. “When we were on the road and everyone was on the same level, it was easy to forget that Bremen is different from the rest of us. But this place, it’s impossible to forget anymore. Now the queen—this is all too much.”

  She’d paced as she spoke, and Ingrid watched without interruption. Suddenly, Selby rushed to stand in front of her, grabbing her hand with wide eyes and causing Ingrid to lean against a stone column inside the nave of the former monastery. “Let’s hurry and go. We’ll say that you’ve learned where Eir is, and we have to meet with her. That way, we’ll leave before the queen arrives.”

  Ingrid took Selby’s hands between her own. “You don’t need to run away from any queen. How Bremen thinks about you is all that matters. We’ve spent time with Queen Greta in Jorvik, and she was kind. This one will be, too.”

  “Greta is Norse. Bremen’s mother, Galwain, is Saxon from Wessex, by birth. Bremen talks about his mother and his little sister with such devotion. If she doesn’t like me, what will that mean?”

  “She will love you. Now relax and go stand by Bremen’s side. Let his mother see you as the strong woman you are who belongs at the side of a prince.” Ingrid spun Selby toward the front of the narthex where everyone was waiting and looped their arms together as they walked.

  Selby groaned, but then took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Every bit the shieldmaiden ready for battle as they headed nearer to Jorg.

  The bustling bodies who’d prepared the church-turned-castle had disappeared. A few people stood around waiting for the queen, but most of the servants were out of sight. Jorg stood at the back of the room, and Ingrid stopped next to him.

  “Where are Plintze and Lazuli? I haven’t seen either of them this morning,” Ingrid asked.

  “Lazuli pressured Plintze to take her out for some fun. I think he agreed so they wouldn’t be here when the queen arrived. That being said, whatever Plintze does for fun is something I really need to witness soon,” Selby answered.

  With a chuckle, Ingrid gently pushed her hand against Selby’s back. “You know where you need to be.”

  Pale faced and holding her thumbs inside her fists, no doubt to keep from picking at them, Selby made her way to the front. Bremen instantly reached out for her hand, and Ingrid smiled.

  A few of those standing around spoke in hushed tones and kept glancing over to Jorg as he stood near Ingrid. Ignore them. They are jealous of me for standing near someone so handsome.

  Jorg snorted and kissed her temple before shaking his head. He smiled at a woman who stared, and she turned her face away as soon as their eyes met. “Yes, I’m sure that’s what they’re thinking.”

  Hoofbeats and commotion in the courtyard sounded just before the doors pushed open and boots clattered against the stone floors.

  “Mother!” Bremen exclaimed.

  Jorg and Ingrid faced the new arrivals, and Ingrid’s chest suddenly became tight. A beautiful woman strode through the doors. She had a golden circlet entwined in her rich brown hair, and she wore a form-fitting gown of shimmering purple with sleeves tight to the elbow before flaring out and flowing down to the wrist.

  Bremen embraced his mother and introduced Selby, who gave a hesitant smile and nodded. Galwain pulled Selby’s hands between her own, and though Ingrid couldn’t hear the words from where she stood, the warm acceptance radiated across the room.

  I knew there’d be nothing to worry about.

  Others greeted the queen as she made her way across the room. She smiled and spoke a few words to everyone, but when she turned toward Ingrid and Jorg, she halted ten steps away and gasped, her hand rising to her slender throat as she stared at them.

  “What’s wrong? Are you not well?” Bremen asked, taking hold of her free hand.

  Ingrid felt an eerie stillness. All her muscles tensed, and a buzz of unease skittered through her middle. Perhaps they should have waited to meet the queen. Giving her time to greet her son alone might have been a better decision, but then she realized Galwain was staring at Jorg.

  Ingrid snapped her attention to Jorg and watched as his face went from neutral to questioning. It looked like an answer to a question he hadn’t asked was filtering into his brain and he was trying to process the information.

  Ingrid reached out and touched his arm. “Maybe we should go.” Jorg didn’t move or respond to her. “Jorg?”

  “Mother, what is it?” Bremen asked again, this time a hint of frustration lacing his words. “Perhaps you should go straight to your rooms. The journey has tired you.”

  “Alberich.” One word was all she said, but it held enough emotion to fill the room—love, sadness, pain, and shock wrapped in a tone as beautiful as the woman herself. It floated through the air straight to Jorg, whose eyes popped open, and his chest hitched. For a moment, Ingrid thought he might fall to his knees, and she clutched the fabric of his shirt between the fingers she still held against his arm.

  Bremen twisted toward them and saw Jorg’s reaction. “What is this? Who is Alberich? Come Mother, sit and relax. You look pale.” Bremen pulled his mother forward, sliding to her side and tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. She walked with him mindlessly while staring at Jorg with silver-rimmed eyes.

  A torrent of emotions swirled over Jorg’s face. As the duo neared, Ingrid could see his chest rise and fall faster, but still, he said nothing. When the queen stopped in front of them, a sad smile graced her lips but not her eyes.

  “I never expected I would see you again. How did you know to meet me here?” the queen asked Jorg.

  Bremen, Selby, and Ingrid looked back and forth between the two and amongst themselves. “Mother, what are you talking about?” Bremen shifted so his mother was behind his shoulder, then faced Jorg.

  “I do not know you,” Jorg finally spoke, directing his words to the queen before turning his attention to Bremen. “We need to be going,” Jorg said, leaving no room for argument. He grabbed Ingrid’s wrist and strode forward, bumping Bremen’s shoulder as he dragged her along behind him. “Selby, you need to come as well,” he said twisting to look at her.

  “No.” Selby’s voice was strong and decisive.

&nbs
p; Ingrid grabbed hold of the hand digging into her wrist and tried to pry his fingers off her arm. “Let me go. What is going on?”

  When they got to the closed doors, four guards stepped in front to block their exit. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Jorg released Ingrid and turned around.

  She rubbed at the red marks on her wrist and glared at him. “Jorg, what’s wrong?”

  “Stop! This is unnecessary. Guards, please step outside,” the queen said, then looked to all of those standing silent around the edge of the room. “Everyone, please excuse us. I must speak to my son and his guests alone. I will be happy to meet with all of you later, after I’ve rested from my journey.”

  The guards stepped outside and closed the door after the last person had followed them. Jorg and Ingrid stayed to hear what the queen needed to say. With the doors shut, the room became uncomfortably silent.

  Laying a hand on Bremen’s arm, the queen smiled at her son then faced Ingrid and Jorg. “Jorg is your name then?” she asked in a voice that floated across the room.

  Jorg nodded but didn’t move, every muscle in his jaw twitched as he stood still.

  “I’m afraid I have misunderstood the nature of your visit. Let’s find a place where we can sit and please allow me to explain myself.”

  Ingrid looked at Jorg, and even though she was angry at him for trying to drag her off, she worried more for why he felt it necessary. Whatever this is about we’ll face it—together. The words were enough to soften his stance a small amount, and he cast a glance at her.

  Jorg closed his eyes for a second and entwined his fingers gently with hers before he gave her a stiff nod. Together, they walked forward to stand in front of Bremen and his mother.

  “The chapter house is now my meeting room. It’s private,” Bremen said and gestured for everyone to follow him as he took his mother’s arm.

  They found the room off the cloister where they’d talked with Bremen earlier. A large oval table took up the center of the room and several chairs sat around it. Cut stone walls with no decoration gave the room a cold, stark appearance. There were no sconces, so the only light came from a small, high window. Bremen quickly lit several candles and helped his mother to a chair.

  All three of the others moved to sit across from the woman, and Bremen took a seat next to her.

  “Bremen, please introduce me properly. Perhaps that would be the place to start.”

  “You’ve met Selby. This is Jorg and Ingrid. We met them along our travels a few days back as we headed home from our meetings. There are two others that travel with them as well—someplace, though I’m not sure where.”

  Bremen hesitated. Ingrid thought he seemed to be trying to decide if he should explain more. But he must have thought it best to leave it alone because he exhaled and said nothing further about them. “This is Galwain, Queen of Leinster, in Ireland.”

  Galwain smiled at Ingrid. “Are you from the same village Selby mentioned to me earlier?”

  “Yes, we’ve been friends since we were small. She is more like my sister.” The urge to help endear the queen to her friend filled her words.

  Galwain’s smile wavered, but she kept herself composed and focused on Ingrid. “What brings you so far from home?”

  Ingrid gazed down into her lap and then at her hand entwined with Jorg’s before she stared back at the queen. “I am searching for a woman whose help I need.”

  “Ingrid is a healer, Mother. She has special gifts, and she needs to learn how to use her abilities to save her village,” Bremen interjected. “There are forces, both human and other, that are trying to stop her. We have run into some of them already on our travels and learned that a dark elf may be nearby now as well.”

  Galwain paled as she sat taller, and her expression grew very serious. Ingrid knit her brows together and worried that Bremen had said too much. She suspected Selby had told him even more.

  The queen focused on Ingrid. “Dark elves are dangerous. Their magic does not adhere to the normal rules of nature. Whatever your gifts are, I urge you to find another way to help your village than facing one like that for any reason.”

  Ingrid stared at her. The woman spoke from experience, but she could not figure out how a woman—a queen—would have firsthand knowledge of someone like Jarrick. “If I could avoid him, I gladly would, but that’s why I need to train. There’s more at stake than just our village.”

  “Then that is why you are here as well? To help Ingrid with this situation?” Galwain looked at Jorg, and her expression was more pleading than questioning.

  “Ingrid is special to me, and I will do whatever is necessary to keep her safe while she follows the destiny the Norns have woven for her.”

  It didn’t escape Ingrid’s notice that he sat rigid, not speaking of his own connection to the elven race. His hair was back and allowed his ears to be visible as evidence enough.

  “I see. Perhaps I should explain why I have come. We may find that our goals are in line with each other’s.”

  Bremen nodded. “Yes, please. I am anxious to find out what caused you to cross the sea. You hate sailing. Has there been news of father?”

  “Your father’s forces are faring well in Dublin; you can rest easy on that. He hopes to report an end to the war soon. I have come because of another matter.” Galwain brushed at her skirt and arranged her sleeves. “When I first arrived in Ireland many years ago, I said it was because I had fled from Wessex, as I’ve told you before.”

  Bremen leaned his forearms on the table. “You said it was because of your family. I didn’t think it right to ask more of it.”

  “I have always appreciated that. Please understand that what I’m going to say has no bearing on my love for you. But my flight to Ireland was not the first time I’d run from my troubles.”

  Creases formed on Bremen’s brow. Ingrid fidgeted in her seat. Maybe we should go? Jorg gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

  “My father, Wilbert, was an ambitious man and spent years building relationships that would increase his social standing. He’d married my sister off to a man in Wales, and I found myself enjoying the simplicity and solitude of the forest. Not to mention it fed into my rebelliousness to protest the finery expected of me and ruin my dresses rummaging for mushrooms or climbing trees.”

  Ingrid and Selby exchanged an amused look. There were far too many memories in Ingrid’s mind of similar experiences.

  “After a time, the magical beings that lived among the trees began to show themselves to me, and I made wonderful friendships with sprites, pixies, shape-shifters that could take on the form of a variety of animals . . . and elves. It was great fun for me as a young girl to have an entire world of secret friends.”

  Galwain paused as she adjusted her sleeves. She then brushed at her skirts again before fiddling with a thin gold ring adorning her right index finger. She had met elves and sprites, had befriended them. She’d thought Jorg was someone else. Ingrid’s breath hitched, and she glanced at Jorg. He was sitting so still it didn’t look like he was breathing.

  “The reason that I fled was because I fell in love with an elf. We spent every day for months walking through the trees, discovering more about each other, and discussing grand plans to make the future better. Then my father found out. He insisted that we give each other up, that it was not natural for a human and an elf to be together.

  “Not only did he believe our union unholy, but he’d secured a marriage for me, and my relationship in the woods would ruin that agreement . . . as well as his reputation. It would destroy all his hard work and political scheming over the years. But I couldn’t give up the love that I’d found. Father believed that elves could bend a human’s will without their knowledge, and I was not of sound mind.”

  Bremen huffed. “Many of my men feared the same, and it caused some unfortunate consequences on our journey,” he added, his voice low and thick.

  While Jorg didn’t notice the quick, apologetic glance in his
direction, Ingrid did. She wasn’t the only one, Galwain turned her focus to Jorg and held his stare. The silence in the room itched against Ingrid’s skin as everyone sat rigid.

  “I’m sorry.” A shimmer lined Galwain’s eyes. She sucked in a deep breath and continued. “When I left, my father developed a sense of hatred to all magical beings. So strong that I found out later he’d had the forest I’d frequented burned. His social status fell, and he was forced back into the life of a low ranking noble without influence. Recently, I received word that he was amassing an army to seek out and destroy all those from the otherworld that he still blames. It was the fact that he was searching for one individual in particular that brought me here.”

  This time when Galwain stopped speaking, she squared her shoulders and met Jorg’s stare with strength.

  “I was worried he had found out about my child. The son I’d given up to protect him when his father’s ideas of a better future turned dark. I made the decision to run again, as I had from my father before. If I was found, I would face the consequences, but I couldn’t let him turn my happy little boy into the monster he was becoming. There was a sprite that helped me find a family without children, and we hid him among the human world. Then I fled on my own to Ireland. I’ve come back to stop my father before he finds my son.”

  No one moved for seconds, though it felt like hours. Finally, Jorg blinked, once and then again before he spoke in a cold, but controlled tone. “And you believe that I am your son?”

  Without hesitation, she nodded. “Yes.”

  “Because I happen to be here when you arrived? You know nothing about me to think that I might be that child.”

  Ingrid tried to reach over to Jorg, but he stood before she touched him. He walked to the side of the room with his back to everyone before he turned to Galwain once more.

  “It’s a shock, and you must have many questions, both of you.” She faced Bremen and rested her hand on his arm before she returned her gaze to Jorg. “But I assure you that I recognize who you are. A mother knows her child. You’ve been as rigid as stone from the moment we saw each other because you feel it, too.”