The Viking Maiden Box Set

by Kelly N. Jane

  Ingrid charged, a battle shriek ripping from her lips, and Plintze and Jorg moved on either side of her. Seconds later, the grunts of bodies slamming into each other surrounded them. Swords clanged, and wood splintered as axes smashed into shields. Ingrid let her body take over and ducked under the swing of a sword and swiped the leg of an oncoming fighter as she spun low.

  Before she could stand, a foot landed in her middle and she flew backward onto the hard, dry earth. Shaken, she quickly righted herself and ducked away from a shield, spinning as she did and sinking her dagger into the back of her attacker.

  Sweat and blood stuck to her face, the metallic taste on her lips. She charged again, not caring if it was hers or someone else’s.

  Her arms grew as heavy as iron, and her chest heaved with the effort. Someone yanked her hair, and she stumbled to her side, landing on her knees. The stench of a filthy hand covered her mouth and nose as it exposed her neck.

  She’d lost one dagger, but the other found purchase in the leg of her captor. His grip loosened enough to pull away, but only for a second as a hand grabbed her again. Facing the angry man, she brought her knee hard into his groin. He fell face-first, and she slammed her bone-handled dagger into the side of his neck with both hands.

  Ingrid nearly fell on top of the crumpled body as her knees wobbled. The world slowed as she watched the chaos through the dimming skies of twilight. Bodies filled the courtyard.

  Jorg fought men from all sides with his double-sided axe. Plintze surprised men with his strength and speed. Lazuli had arrived and zipped among the throng, leaving a colorful trail and bloodied bodies.

  There were so many. More of the druht still streamed through the gates. Somewhere among them was their leader, Wilbert. Bremen’s—and Jorg’s—grandfather. Would he call off the attack if he knew it was his family that he battled?

  Through the dusty haze churned up by so many feet, Ingrid caught sight of Bremen and Selby heading for the gate.

  We need to help get the gate closed.

  “This way!” Jorg grabbed Ingrid’s wrist until she saw where he was going, and Plintze followed.

  They raced their way to the edge of the combat, fighting until they reached where Bremen and several men were shoving a wagon. The three of them fought off attackers while the others tipped the wagon to block the gate. Another group did the same from the other side. It wasn’t enough to stop every druht warrior from entering the courtyard, but it created a bottleneck and slowed their progress.

  Breaking away from the steady onslaught, Bremen sent four men to climb ladders and shoot flaming arrows to the burning kettles outside the palisade walls. Black smoke billowed into the sky as they hit their targets.

  Still locked in the battle, Ingrid found a small, round shield and used it along with her dagger to continue to fight. A flash of light drew her attention to a spot twenty paces from her as Jarrick arrived in the courtyard.

  A tug pulled at her senses, and Ingrid’s eyes met Jarrick’s. The mayhem fell away from her ears as her eyesight tunneled. Everything was as she’d witnessed in her vision.

  I knew it was only a matter of time until things got worse. Much worse.

  27

  Jarrick pulled a sword from his hip and began to battle against the druht around him. Ingrid watched, in stunned silence. Wondering why he would fight hand-to-hand, or help confront the druht when he could overpower everyone with little effort.

  Then she noticed the curve of his lip. He wasn’t fighting—he was toying with them, like a cat in the center of a colony of mice. At that moment, she knew she had one option left.

  If she was going to save the realms, she had to get back to the Yggdrasil tree and secure the veil of protection. Jarrick could destroy the entire courtyard easily if he wanted. There was no way she could stop him from taking her to Alfheim with him unless she removed herself.

  I have to go. There’s no other way for this to end unless I bind the spell. I need to draw him away before things become worse. She remembered her vision and the thunderous crack of dragon wings she’d heard within it.

  Ingrid saw Jorg’s face snap toward her before she slashed out with her dagger at another attacker. The fighting had separated them so much that Jarrick was now closer to Ingrid than Jorg.

  He swung his arms and spun in almost a dance as men fell all around him. Jarrick’s eyes glittered when they met Ingrid’s. His eyes widened for a moment as someone landed a crushing blow to his back while he was distracted. Stumbling down to his knees, a broad-shouldered man stood over him.

  Ingrid gasped as Bremen rushed in and blocked the man’s sword from coming down onto Jarrick. Why would he do that? She didn’t understand why Bremen would protect Jarrick, but then she noticed Bremen leaning into the man and speaking to him. As the two pushed apart she noticed the resemblance.

  It had to be Wilbert. He would have recognized Jarrick, and Bremen had made the connection also. It still didn’t excuse the reason he didn’t let his grandfather kill the dark elf. Ingrid gritted her teeth as she lunged away from an axe that was aimed at her head. Rolling to the ground, she swiped at the man’s legs and crushed his throat with her shield.

  When she stood, she ran for Bremen, watching as Selby rushed in from the other side. Wilbert raised his sword to strike Bremen, and before the latter could defend himself, Selby sliced her short sword through the older man’s arm.

  At the same time, Jorg reached Ingrid and pulled her to him in a suffocating embrace. “You need to go.” Silver lined his eyes, but his jaw was tight.

  Ingrid shook her head. The weight of leaving them to their fate slammed against her, and she faltered. “I can’t. I can’t leave all of you. Not now.”

  “You have to. No one will ever be safe if you don’t.” His mouth covered hers for a brief moment in a crushing kiss before he thrust her away from the battle toward a tall stack of crates near the palisade wall. “I love you. Now, go!”

  As she hesitated, her gaze found Jarrick once again staring back at her. A curl tilted his mouth with an evil satisfaction. Ingrid’s heart raced. Blood pounded in her ears. What was he doing?

  Then she heard it.

  A crack of thunder—except it wasn’t. She’d heard that sound before. The scar on her arm pulsed.

  “Run!” she screamed. It was the final piece of the vision she’d seen coming to fruition.

  No one could hear her over the din of fighting bodies. The clang of metal and thud of wood drowned her voice.

  Jorg, run. Dragon!

  Selby was closest, and Ingrid bolted for her, screaming as she went. “Dragon—run!”

  The screech filled the air as she reached her friend. All around her, the fighting slowed as faces turned to the skies.

  Grabbing Selby’s sleeve, Ingrid spun her away from the fighting and together, they darted for the front doors. Selby yanked her arm back midway there and halted, nearly making Ingrid topple trying to avoid her.

  “Where’s Bremen?” Selby asked.

  The crack of wings in the air thundered again as a second silhouette darkened the courtyard. The sight of two dragons tilted the battle into a frenzied chaos. Men screamed and clambered over each other to get away. The druht nearest the gate turned and raced back for the forest. Those inside tried to follow or spring for the narthex, friend or enemy no longer a concern.

  “You have to get inside!” Ingrid had to scream even though they stood face to face. “I have to go.”

  Tears immediately sprung from Selby’s eyes as Ingrid backed away. The dragons circled over head, getting closer to the ground with each pass. “Go, please!”

  Selby shook her head, wetness creating streaks through the dirt and blood splattered on her cheeks. Ingrid knew neither of them had time to wait, and if she could create a portal, Selby might hurry to safety after she was gone.

  I love you. She sent her message to Jorg as she made the rune symbols. A portal opened, but Eir’s words of warning that she could be trapped between the realms
if she’d not done it right, rang in her mind.

  As she hesitated, she heard Selby scream a warning and then the weight of a large body slammed into her side, knocking her to the ground. Large arms encircled her, getting caught on the string of her necklace. Her beads scattered across the wartorn ground. The amber bead landed in the dirt several feet away. The portal winked closed. Hot, acrid breath washed over her face as a voice spoke in her ear.

  “You aren’t going anywhere.” Greer twisted her arm behind her back and yanked her to her feet.

  The entire courtyard fell into blackness as one of the dragons sailed by with another screech. It was close enough that Ingrid could see each scale on the beast’s underbelly shimmer like glass with iridescent blues and greens. The rising moon illuminated through its outstretched wings as if they were made of delicate indigo silk and twinkled off the razor-sharp claws.

  “Let me go! You are condemning everyone to die if you don’t!” Ingrid screamed and kicked out at Greer as he held her from behind.

  Before he could let go, the dragon curled in on itself in a serpentine twist and headed directly for them. Panic siezed Ingrid, and she threw her hands up as high as she could with Greer’s heavy arm around her shoulders.

  Power surged from her, much like it had done in the forest, but this time her back arched and pain ripped through her from the inside out. Greer flew backward, and Ingrid fell face first into the dirt.

  A horrendous, bellowing gurgle came from the dragon as it careened to the ground outside the palisade. The earth shook when the giant body crashed and then silenced.

  For a few seconds that seemed like days, the entire courtyard came to a halt. Then with a startled urgency, everyone rushed back into a panic. The second, larger dragon let out a screech so fearsome that Ingrid’s blood drained from her face. Her legs were too shaken to stand, but strong hands pulled her to her feet.

  Selby didn’t wait to find out if she could move. She just snatched Ingrid’s hand and took off. Stumbling along behind as they hurried their way toward a wagon, Ingrid saw Bremen thrust his sword through Greer before he sprinted in their direction.

  A wooden wagon wasn’t going to provide any real cover from the dragon, but as they huddled under the darkness it provided, she wanted to believe it could. Bremen made it just as the dragon opened its mouth to spew fire, the heat already blazing through the air.

  Directly in the line of fire stood Plintze, waving his arms wildly to get the beast’s attention. He appeared to be drawing it away as he shuffled sideways. Realization cut through Ingrid like a dagger—he was moving away from the narthex. Away from the stream of warriors taking shelter within its walls.

  No! The scream caught in Ingrid’s throat, and she could only gape at her friend. Her pulse pounded against her temples, and the edges of her vision tunneled around the flapping dwarf.

  Out of nowhere, Lazuli flew directly at the monster. She pestered the beast around its eyes. Her badgering made the creature halt its flame. As she tried to dart away, she almost made it, but the beast managed to snag her between teeth that were larger than the sprite’s little body.

  It threw her into the air, and she tumbled lifelessly end over end out into the forest. Her glittering trail of light dissipated into the air as her detached wings fluttered to the ground.

  Sobs seeped into Ingrid’s consciousness next to her, but she was numb. Lazuli was gone. A chasm cracked wide in her chest as she thought of Plintze.

  Before she could process her grief, she screamed and covered her ears as a voice burst through her mind. Unlike the pressure of Jarrick’s essence she’d known before, this was a sharp, stabbing agony—unrelenting as she tried to make out the words. She hoped that if she could understand it would make it stop.

  “Come out of there, Ingrid, before I let my second pet torch this place to dust.”

  Bremen and Selby both pleaded with her to stay, but she twisted away from them. On hands and knees, she crawled from cover, unable to open her eyes from the pain.

  28

  Ingrid pushed herself to her feet, the headache fading as she stood before Jarrick. The courtyard was mostly empty, those still outside were hiding behind crates, barrels, and wagons. The second dragon undulated through the moonlit skies. Every few minutes it would let out a mournful howl and hiss a stream of fire. The acrid stench of sulfur choked the air.

  The memory of crystalline lilac-colored eyes, purple hair, and a spunky rebellious personality made Ingrid hope that the gigantic lizard burned with pain more than she did. But she knew that wasn’t possible as her chest squeezed in on itself.

  “Your powers have grown stronger since we spoke last,” Jarrick said. His frosty tone pierced through Ingrid. “It’s time you learned better ways to use your skills.”

  “I learned what I needed, and there’s nothing that you can teach me.” She glared at him with the desire to test her skills. She’d sent men flying before. Over Jarrick’s shoulder, she could see Plintze and Jorg moving closer. Bodies lay strewn at odd angles, and the ground darkened where dirt mixed with blood. “Where is Galwain?”

  “My wife is not your concern—”

  “She is mine,” Jorg called out. Jarrick didn’t so much as glance back as his son strode closer.

  “Your mother is safe and happy to be in her rightful home. At some point, you will join us as well, but that will have to wait until Ingrid has finalized her part in the process.”

  There was a shuffle of bodies behind her as Bremen and Selby crawled out from the wagon. “Tell me where you’ve taken her,” Bremen shouted.

  Ingrid cringed on the inside from the hard stare Jarrick continued to level at her. That look darkened even more at the sound of Galwain’s second son. It took much of her concentration to stand tall and act as though she was confident.

  Without taking his eyes away, Jarrick spoke directly to Ingrid. “You and I are alike, Ingrid. We each have a gift that makes us stronger than those around us.”

  “Ha!” Ingrid curled her lip and fought back rising bile, the sting of it aching in her jaw. “I am nothing like you. You want to destroy and call it salvation. All the realms will suffer if you have your wish.”

  He shook his head. “Now, you know that isn’t true. That’s the sentiment of that old crone who filled your head with nonsense and left out all the best parts.”

  “You know nothing of what she taught me. I will not go with you. I will bind the spell.”

  Jorg circled around to stand by Ingrid’s side, while Plintze stayed at Jarrick’s back.

  “It will be wonderful to show you Alfheim, my son, so you can understand exactly what you’ve missed out on.” With an exasperated shake of his head, Jarrick flourished his hand, sending Bremen, Selby, and Plintze backward in different directions as they tried to advance.

  Muffled sounds of swords and shouting could be heard from the narthex where those who’d taken refuge from the dragon must have begun to fight again. Those who hid in the courtyard, however, remained silent.

  “This is madness, Jarrick. You can’t force me to follow you. The Norns granted me this destiny, and I will complete it.”

  With a tilt of his chin, Jarrick gave a wry grin. “Why should you care anymore? You haven’t asked about those precious family members in that hovel of a village you have worried yourself sick over.”

  Ingrid let her nostrils flare as she tried to keep her expression calm, her breathing steady. Everyone would be safe if she was successful, including those in the village. Wouldn’t they?

  “Have you considered the cost of your allegiance with Eir? I allowed you two moons to come to your senses, and instead of choosing the wiser path, you chose to squander the opportunity I offered. I came to retrieve you yesterday.” Jarrick angled his brow at Ingrid when he finished and let silence creep between them.

  Ingrid’s mind faltered to understand the implication of his words. Her nerves were too rattled to pick up on the subtlety of what he clearly wanted her to realize. Jorg
shifted closer to her. She heard his breath hitch, and the muscles of his arm tensed where it brushed against hers.

  What was she missing? What was she ignoring?

  Then it hit her. Her eyes traveled to the sky where a bright, round full moon shone low on the horizon. Two moons, that’s the timeframe she’d been given, and she’d counted out the weeks, but she’d lost track. Starting like a small crack that quickly splintered into a cavern so deep it threatened to cleave her in two.

  Yesterday. Jarrick had come for her yesterday.

  No. No! He can’t mean it.

  Tremors erupted through her body as she shook her head. The air left her lungs and wouldn’t return. She clutched her middle and fell to her knees. The village was destroyed—everyone dead. She’d failed.

  Sound failed her even though she opened her mouth to scream. The world shifted out from under her. Nothing would ever be the same. Her home, her family—there was nothing to go back to. She fell to the ground, her fingers clawing at the cold, damp earth.

  Finally, a scream—louder in her ears than even the dragon’s had been—erupted from her core. The world went dark, and her powers turned to ice. Nothing had prepared her for the emptiness of such a devastating, crushing loss. How could it?

  Someone touched her, and she lashed out, screaming and swinging her fists. Rising to her feet, ready to strike again, she found Jorg standing in front of her. His hands were at his side, his shoulders slumped, but what held Ingrid like a vice were the glistening streaks that slid down his cheeks.

  Her family was gone, and they had been his family, too. Hagen, Jorg had told her, had been his first true friend, and now he was gone. Did he get to fight? Would they meet him in Valhalla one day?

  Never again would she work side-by-side with her mother at the loom or nestle against her father. Tattooed runes of Odin’s bravery were etched on his neck—had they helped?