With Dragons She Walks

by Darby, Brit

  “That,” Thyra purred, “would make me very happy indeed.”

  Gunnar lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the tent in middle of the longship. A rumble of laughter erupted from him. “Your whoring ways are rather handy on a long journey, woman.”

  “I strive to please, my love.”

  DRAKE WATCHED GUNNER DISAPPEAR with Thyra in his arms. He heard Leo’s snort of disgust as he shifted uncomfortably on the hard deck. The journey thus far was miserable: cold, rain, snow and ice. It all fell upon them exposed on the deck as they huddled chained beneath a single blanket to survive.

  “Those two make quite the pair,” Leo said. “Never have I met a more surly character than Gunnar. There are times I even feel sorry for Thyra. I think he may just kill her one day.”

  “It’s not her I worry about,” Drake muttered, gazing over the darkened sea. “Do you think Cailin’s in the city?”

  “Aye,” Leo mused. “I think she’s there all right. All we have to do is find her.”

  Drake gestured to their chained ankles. “In our present state, we’d be better off if she found us.”

  “She did rescue us once, maybe we’ll get lucky again.” Leo smiled with his usual optimism and humor.

  “A sad state of affairs, cousin, when two grown men depend on a girl to get them out of their troubles.” Drake’s attempt at joking with his cousin was tinged with seriousness and, in the end, serious won out. He frowned.

  “Ahhh, come on Drake, you’re hard on yourself, don’t you think? After all,” Leo said with his familiar big smile, “Cailin has some pretty powerful Dragons on her side.”

  “Still, I haven’t been much of a husband, have I?”

  “Well, I seem to recall you fighting a monster of a Vik to keep her from walking on hot iron. I think that was pretty damned amazing.”

  Drake chuckled, remembering how he had to be carried off to bed afterwards. “Aye, Bjorn was rather large and angry.”

  Leo sobered. “What a mess. Here we are, prisoners again, and we can’t even warn Cailin that madman Gunnar is right on her heels.”

  Opening his palm, Drake looked at the violet ribbon, his longing interwoven with his worry. “Aye. I fear for Cailin and miss her, Leo. Gods, how I miss her.”

  CAILIN PICKED UP HER cape and threw it over her shoulders. But before she left the room, she felt a sudden rush of emotion touch her. She stood in the silence and knew Drake was thinking of her. Her eyes closed in relief; he yet lived. And was not far from her now.

  THE SHIP ROSE HIGH with each wave, only to plummet with its decline. Again and again, the longship made the journey over them, its groans and creaks heard even above the thrashing roar of the sea. Rain drenched the two men chained in the hull with its torrent of cold icy drops, but it was the storm that threatened to sweep them into its black depths.

  “I thought we were to die coming down those river rapids in this twig of a boat,” Leo shouted over the howling wind, his teeth clenched from the cold. “I was so damned happy I could have kissed that bastard Vik when we made it through.”

  Drake smiled despite his misery. “I admit I was pretty happy when Gunnar had the sense to portage around the worst of them. But we’re smack dab in the middle of this bitch of a black sea now, and there’s no sailing ’round this squall.”

  Leo, looking greenish, nodded. “If Gunnar manages to get us to Constantinople in one piece, I will definitely kiss him this time.”

  Drake laughed. “Best beware Thyra, you might make her jealous. Would be a bloody shame to have her kill you after all this.”

  “I do cut a fine figure, but he’s too sadistic for my taste. I think it’s best to leave him for the woman to devour.”

  “Fine figure? More like a wet dog, cousin.”

  “Wet dog I may be now, but I clean up rather well.”

  Wet dog describes us both, Drake thought. He listened as his cousin went on tolling his many virtues and attributes. Even in the most daunting circumstances, Leo held onto his humor. That was his gift from the gods, his strength, and Drake was grateful for it. Leo refused to let either of them sink into the well of self-pity or despair. It dawned on him that without Leo, he may not have survived as long as he had. He blurted the words that came to his heart.

  “You are like my little brother, Leo.”

  Drake’s confession brought Leo’s gaze to him. “Ah, hell, Drake.” Leo looked grim. “We’re going to die, aren’t we?”

  “What?”

  “We must be about to die, else you wouldn’t be waxing nostalgic on me.”

  “No, we’re not about to die. That wasn’t—”

  The big smile returned. “Good, your ‘little brother’ speech gave me a damned start. I was beginning to think we were done for.”

  The twinkle in the depths of Leo’s eyes told Drake he teased. He grunted under his breath. “I spoke too soon. You’re more like a pain-in-the-ass than a brother.”

  “Aye.” Leo grinned. “But a lovable pain, nonetheless.”

  CAILIN PULLED HER CLOAK tighter about her as she passed through the crowd of people. Kasimir was at her side as they made their way past the massive gates that led into the great city. Something touched her and she stopped, people bumping into her as she remained frozen to the spot.

  Kasimir turned back when he discovered Cailin was no longer beside him. She had retraced her steps to one of the gates, and there laid her hand upon the worn and splintered wood.

  Visions paraded across her mind and she saw the shadow of Prince Oleg’s shield nailed to it. She knew then he would make his war upon the city, and this time reach the main gates, a great feat in itself. She saw tribute of silver, the emperor paying to save his city from the great warlord.

  “Are you all right?” Kasimir touched her elbow and brought her back to the present.

  She smiled. “He will find another way.”

  Of course Kasimir had no idea who or what she was talking about, and his confusion showed clearly on his face. She laughed and shook her head. “Never mind, Kasimir. Shall we go?”

  IT TOOK A FULL minute for Cailin’s eyes to adjust to the dimly lit room. Smoke choked the air from the fire burning in the hearth, dispelling the chill of the winter day. Bodies were packed about the rough hewn tables, benches and chairs filled as men sought drink and company. The conversation buzzed around her, bits of different languages drifting to her ears. Unkempt bodies assaulted her sensitive nose, mixing with the pungent wine and ale they drank.

  She accidently bumped a man and he looked up. Watery brown eyes sunk deep into the scarred, leathered skin studied her. He smiled and nodded, revealing only a few yellowed teeth within as she moved on by. Unconsciously, Cailin tugged up the hood on her cloak, making certain her face was shadowed from other prying eyes.

  Kasimir’s laughter drifted back to her as she followed him. He reached out to grasp several hands in greeting as he made his way to the back room. He was comfortable among these men, it was apparent in his manner, his confident stride, his hearty voice as he called out names. Cailin couldn’t help but smile in turn; he was in his element.

  She was not. But she trusted him completely, knowing without words he would keep her safe.

  It was a strange friendship, one born from equally odd circumstance. Her misfortune had turned to fortune, but she could not explain how or why. Only that it had. Sometimes, she thought, it is best I accept such a gift from the gods, simply knowing I shall never understand the reason for it.

  They reached a closed door and Kasimir looked over his shoulder at her. He winked and lifted the latch to enter. A man seated at a table looked up from his meal, his face scrunched in anger at the interruption. Then, as recognition dawned, he stood, the sudden movement sending the bench he sat on crashing to the floor.

  “Kasimir, you old son of a whore,” he shouted, his mouth full of half-eaten food.

  “Achhh,” Kasimir chided him, “that is no way to speak in front of a lady, old friend.”

&
nbsp; Cailin smiled as she recalled Kasimir’s own crude reference to virgins upon their first meeting.

  The short, round man snapped his mouth shut, swallowed, and his eyes widened. “You joke, I’m sure. What lady would be seen with an old cuss like you?”

  Cailin watched as the man went and picked Kasimir up in a bear hug, jostling him like a boy, laughing all the while. She stayed in the background until the two men had settled down, their reunion complete. Kasimir took her hand and brought her forward.

  “This is the lady Cailin. Mind your manners, Tavo. Or you shall answer to me.”

  The big man pursed his lips, weighing Kasimir’s words. He nodded his balding head, the few strands of hair strung across it dangling like seaweed. He threw his arms up and grinned. “I have never seen Kasimir so serious before. Nor have I ever heard him call anyone a lady, so you must be special indeed.”

  He bowed, sweeping out his arm in an exaggerated gesture. “Thus I, Tavo, am your humble servant as well.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  THE EMPEROR’S COURT WAS a busy affair, this province in the Empire one of the richest and most powerful. The Great Palace at Constantinople was well known for its wealthy courtiers and seedy intrigues. A fight for political power was ever-ongoing; murder and violence were commonplace even amongst the royal families. No one was exempt from the conspiracies, and many plots were forged in the shadows of a seemingly elegant and sophisticated culture.

  “What brings a Vik to my court in the dead of winter? Are the rapids not impassable this time of year?” The curly-haired Emperor Leo VI sat upon his throne, a look of jaded boredom upon his face. He was garbed in a purple silk toga, while a younger, dark-haired beauty clad in the same royal hue lounged at his side on the golden lectus. Heavy gold crowns, laden with glittering jewels, graced both their heads, and more rare stones were intricately sewn into the fabric of their clothing.

  Still, Gunnar stood tall, feeling proud and glancing disdainfully around at the silk-swathed and perfumed men and women of the court. Most courtiers were busy with their own matters and paid no mind to him, or to the woman who stood beside him in her now threadbare blue cloak. “No. I managed several rapids, and portaged around the worst of them. A Northman does not let such things still his purpose.”

  Emperor Leo studied Gunnar. “So what purpose does a Northman have at my court? Do you wish to join my guard?”

  “No. I bring you a gift.”

  The emperor’s interest was piqued; he sat up straight from his slouched position. “A gift? To what do I owe such honor?” He licked his lips as he glanced at the woman with the Viking. She was neither young nor a ravishing beauty, but he had never futtered a Norsewoman before, and was curious. He heard tale the ice maidens from the north made for the hottest tumbles.

  “I have in my possession two thralls, purchased from a silver mine. I was told they originally were condemned by your hand. I thought you would like them back.”

  Disappointed the woman was not the prize, nonetheless curiosity prompted nervous energy, and the emperor idly twisted a gold ring about his thick finger. “I have sent many men to the mines, why would you think I care about these two particular slaves?”

  Gunnar suspected Emperor Leo feigned indifference to discourage his expectations of reward for his act. He saw the interest in the man’s eyes, even his woman sat up now and paid attention, whereas before, she looked bored.

  “I heard one of these men injured your empress consort, Zoe. I would think this a matter so dire he should not escape punishment for it.”

  It was Zoe who spoke next, imperious and demanding. “Of whom do you speak, Vik?”

  “A man called Drake.”

  Zoe stood suddenly, her heavily kholed eyes wide with disbelief. “It cannot be him. Surely he died in the mines!”

  “The Pict yet lives. As does his companion, a smaller man.”

  Now her dark eyes narrowed; the viciousness in her expression so apparent, even Gunnar was taken aback by her sudden change. The woman he assumed a sultry young beauty at first glance was now a hard-eyed, thin-lipped matron.

  “Bring them to me,” Zoe demanded. The emperor reached up and pulled her back to her seat.

  “Now, my dear, you must not overexcite yourself.” To Gunnar he said, “My poor lady is in shock, the frightful ordeal still weighs dreadfully upon her.”

  Gunnar nodded but said nothing.

  “This man has traveled a long and dangerous way to bring us this news, my dear. Should we not reward him for his fealty to our cause of justice?”

  Zoe nodded, still angry, but stayed silent.

  Emperor Leo motioned to a priest who stood only feet away. He whispered into his ear when he leaned close and he disappeared behind a heavy curtain that lined the wall. “You shall be substantially rewarded in silver for these two men,” he promised Gunnar.

  Gunner signaled his men and Drake and Leo were brought into the court. This time, all eyes were drawn to them, other conversations ceased, important or not. The scattered courtiers moved toward the dais to listen as the emperor now rose and stood, waiting.

  THE CHAINS THAT BOUND the two men were loud in the sudden silence that permeated the large room. Each step clanked in time on the decorative mosaic tiles that lined the floor, like out of tune bells as they were herded forward to the dias where the emperor waited.

  Cailin’s breath caught, the tightness in her throat unbearable as she watched the horrific scene unfolding from the shadows.

  She and Kasimir heard of the arrival of the Dreki Logi from Tavo, and had men following Gunnar when he went ashore. Tavo had every mercenary, thief, pick-pocket and the like scouring Miklagard for information on her father, for the network of the lawless missed little in their dark realm. When asked how much that would cost them, Kasimir had only smiled and said Tavo owed him a favor. It was nothing for his sweet lady to be concerned over.

  Now Cailin stood stunned, unable to move at the sight of Drake and Leo being hauled in like animals for the court’s amusement. Her heart broke at their haggard and worn appearance, the filthy rags they wore, yet both men stood proud despite their dire situation. She was not surprised to learn Gunnar had followed her, but she was shocked to see he had taken Drake and Leo captive.

  It all rushed over her as she tried to think. Just yesterday she had learned that the mercenaries hired to kill her father were found. It was a story so unexpected, she still had trouble believing its complexity. Her adoptive father’s brother, Edwin, now an ordained bishop, was at the heart of the plot, and Gunnar’s betrayal was now clear. She had not trusted him, and rightly so. His complicity in Thorvald’s fate roused righteous anger. But what he did now stirred hatred.

  The good news was Thorvald yet lived, but was Edwin’s prisoner. To what end or purpose her step-uncle had kept him alive was still unclear. But Cailin had her suspicion that it tied into Edwin’s desire to take what he believed should have been his, Tynemoor. Her warning dreams of Lachlan — she was certain Edwin was headed to, or already in Northumbria, and her brother was in danger now. Yet first, she must do what she could to save Drake and Leo.

  The two men who handled the chains were unknown to Cailin. They were not her father’s men. But, it was logical that Gunnar would import a few of his own men, men only loyal to him. How many of her father’s men remained in the crew, she couldn’t know or count upon.

  “It is fortunate that you have found these criminals,” Emperor Leo said in an oily voice. “Even more so that you were so kind as to bring them back to me. I shall see that their heads are removed to ensure they never escape my justice again.” He waved a beringed hand indolently and the priest tossed a bag of silver coin to Gunnar, who caught it in one hand. He bowed slightly in gratitude to the emperor’s generosity.

  “If I might be so bold, dispatch with them soon, the sooner the better. To be certain they will not offend again,” Gunnar said.

  Zoe turned to the emperor and whispered something to him.

/>   Emperor Leo smiled. “Indeed, my lady agrees and has suggested that we do the deed now. Would you like that, Northman?”

  “Ja,” Gunnar grinned. “Most certainly.”

  The emperor motioned for his Varangian Guard to come forward. “Make haste, but take care that the mess be contained. It won’t do to have blood stains upon my lovely tiled floor.”

  Cailin felt nauseous. Emperor Leo’s biggest concern was whether or not blood would mar his beautiful floor. Then panic struck head-on, like Thor’s hammer to her brain. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t even speak as tears blinded her.

  Slowly, gently the Dragons pulled her to their will. Their whispers filled her head, drowning out the chatter as preparations took place for the thralls to be beheaded. Her heart slowed its frantic pace, the pain eased. Kasimir was standing next to her, saying something to her, his face drawn with worry. She did not hear anything but her Dragons.

  Strength flowed through her, warming her blood with the Dragons’ own. Quietly, she made her way through the crowd that had gathered tightly about the spectacle. The Dragons told her what to do. Without thought, she let them guide her, taking her into the midst of the fray. She pushed through the last wall of arms and bodies and broke through.

  Gunnar turned to look, but he did not recognize her with the hood low over her head. She wanted him to see her, to know she would not allow him, or even an emperor, take Drake from her. Not while she yet lived.

  She pushed the hood off and Gunnar’s first reaction was shock, then anger. His eyes narrowed as she boldly walked to the front and faced everyone. Emperor Leo turned from his conversation with his priest and looked down on her. Zoe remained seated upon the lectus, a satisfied look on her face as she watched Drake and Leo forced into a kneeling position.

  “What is this? Can you not see we are about to execute these slaves?” the emperor demanded.

  “I can only see,” Cailin’s voice came out strong, loud enough for all to hear, “that you are about to execute two innocent men. I cannot allow it.”