Rise of a Viking (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors' Kin Book 1)

by Sky Purington

  He was to steer clear of Cybil so that she and Matthew had a chance to get to know one another better. Suffice it to say, his brother had been allowed more than ample time with her as they waited for the Thing to commence. Enough time to truly test Heidrek’s patience. Because despite the distance, he still shared her dreams.

  Still felt unbelievable desire.

  An unfulfilled need that had built and built and dampened his mood considerably. Yet no matter how poor his disposition, he tried to keep it from his people. They came before his emotions. Before anything. That was who he was. What he had learned to be a long time ago.

  “You think nobody sees your discontent but never were you more wrong, Son,” his father murmured as people ate and danced to lively music.

  “Leave him be, Raknar. He’s doing well considering,” his mother said softly, her eyes meeting her husband’s. “Don’t you remember what it was like for us when I first traveled back in time?” She gave him a knowing look and slipped her hand into his. “And as you did at the time, Heidrek knows the rules laid before him.”

  Rules. Heidrek tried to ignore Cybil and Matthew as he eyed the great hall and celebration. Yes, he understood the damn rules.

  “Your brother and Cybil seem to be getting along well.” His father perked a brow. “Perhaps there is no need for the Thing to determine who she should be with?”

  “Husband,” Veronica chastised again before she nudged Heidrek. “Ignore him. You know how grouchy he gets when you’re upset.”

  “I’m not grouchy, woman,” Raknar grumbled, still eying his youngest son.

  He wasn’t alone. Heidrek had been doing the same thing for days, watching in silent misery as Kjar tried to cultivate a relationship between Cybil and Matthew.

  The only solace he had found was when he caught her staring back at him. And now was such a time. Though brief, it rocked him to his core.

  “I disagree with your father,” Veronica said to Heidrek. “Because she does not look at your brother like she looks at you.”

  “Wife,” Raknar warned. “We should stay out of this.”

  “I think we’ve stayed out of our sons’ business for long enough.” Veronica arched her brows. “I’m tired of seeing them at war with each other.”

  “I have never been at war with Matthew,” Heidrek ground out. “But well understand his need to be at war with me.”

  “It would not have mattered who led that raid. The same thing would have happened.” Raknar’s scowl deepened. “Freydis would not want this division between her brothers. She wouldn’t want Matthew to be so bitter. If anything she’d want him to be happy that she now dined with Odin.”

  He didn’t miss the emotion in his father’s voice or when Veronica squeezed his hand in support. Losing their only daughter had been devastating.

  “Hello my kin,” Svala declared as she plunked down on the table and grinned. “Did you know at least half the men in this room dare to contest Matthew’s claim on Cybil at the Thing?”

  “So you assume,” Veronica said.

  “No, I have asked most of them,” Svala said. “And they are. They want her as much as Matthew does.”

  Heidrek’s eyes narrowed on his cousin. What was she up to? “Why would they go up against my brother when they know they will lose?”

  “Would it not be a compliment if they do?” She tossed back half her horn. “It says much for the desirability of Matthew’s new woman.”

  Raknar shook his head, but a grin hovered on his lips. “Do you mean to ease the friction between the brothers with this stunt, Niece?”

  So that was it. Despite Naðr’s wishes that he do otherwise, they were all convinced Heidrek would stand against his brother during the Thing.

  The more competitors they had, the less chance that it would look like a blood feud. And maybe, if someone fought well enough, the final battle might not come down to Heidrek and Matthew. And if that were the case, perhaps some tension would be eased. Because if nothing else, Svala was as desperate as the rest of them to see peace between the brothers.

  Yet her reasoning was flawed because nothing would lesson Matthew’s dislike of him.

  “Heidrek will not be challenging Matthew at the Thing.” The King’s eyes met his. “Will you, Nephew?”

  “No,” Heidrek said.

  “Hmm. Is that so?” Svala’s contemplative eyes remained on Heidrek. “So you’ve had a change of heart, then? You no longer want her?”

  “Are you not pleased?” he responded.

  “Pleased? I might have been a few days ago.” Svala took another gulp of ale. “Now I’m saddened.”

  Everyone’s eyes narrowed at the same time because the King’s youngest daughter was always up to something.

  “Svala,” Naðr warned. “This is none of your concern.”

  Yet she had made it her concern every step of the way.

  “I know father,” she groaned before she polished off her ale, tossed aside the horn and grinned at Naðr. “Yet I remain in awe of how blind you are to what is about to happen.”

  “Daughter.” Megan leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. “Why must you always make Heidrek and Matthew’s battles your own?”

  Mischief fled Svala’s eyes and her lips thinned in discontent. “Do not speak to me of battles when you know nothing of them, Mother.”

  “Svala,” Naðr snapped. “No more.”

  Pain flickered in her eyes, but Megan kept it from her voice. “Stay out of their affairs this time, Daughter.”

  No one was taking the queen’s illness worse than Svala. Instead of spending these last days at peace with her mother, she felt only anger because Megan wouldn’t seek treatment. She couldn’t see the hurt of a man and woman losing each other, only the hurt she felt losing a parent.

  Svala and Megan eyed each other before Tait scooped her off the table, and flipped her over his shoulder. “Let us find someone for you to dance with, Cousin.”

  Nothing cheered Svala up faster than Tait’s antics so nobody was surprised to hear her peals of laughter through the crowd. Meanwhile, Naðr pulled Megan onto his lap and kissed her soundly. That was always the best way to assuage her hurt over Svala’s behavior.

  “My King,” Kjar said as he approached. “Might I have a word with you and Heidrek in my lodge?”

  Naðr and Megan took time finishing their kiss before they followed Kjar. He was surprised when Matthew and Cybil joined them as they sat around a small fire.

  Though tempted, Heidrek kept his eyes averted from hers. Because if he looked at her in such close proximity, he’d likely close the distance and do something he would regret. So he focused on Kjar, overly aware that thunder rumbled across the sky.

  “As you all know, my wife Aella has been on Mt. Galdhøpiggen communing with the gods.” Kjar’s eyes met the King’s. “She wishes you and Queen Megan well but gives me a dire warning.”

  The king nodded for him to continue.

  “As we surmised might happen, there are several Norse gods who are very unhappy. Not only because of the Celtic gods trapped by you and Heidrek,” his eyes stayed firmly on Naðr, “but because we have a Celtic demi-god amongst us.”

  “Then send me home, Kjar,” Cybil said softly.

  “No,” Matthew said. “There must be another way.”

  Cybil wore a heavy frown as she looked at Kjar. “No, I need to protect my sisters.” Her eyes met Matthew’s. “You know I need to go home.”

  Heidrek barely recognized the monster that flared up inside him at the look they shared. The camaraderie that had formed. A connection he was not allowed to pursue with her.

  Naðr’s eyes narrowed on Heidrek and he spoke within the mind. “Control it, Nephew. Now.”

  Kjar and Naðr had long counseled him on how to temper the various types of magic within him. The darkness and light. Yet Cybil seemed to be a trigger. Even keeping his distance from her, he felt himself changing more and more. All that he had learned to repress was inching its way to the surf
ace. In a strange way, it felt both dangerous and freeing.

  “You cannot go home right now, Cybil,” Kjar said. “It would be far too dangerous for both you and your sisters. Instead, you must go to my wife. You must go to the home of the seers at the peak of Mt. Galdhøpiggen.”

  “No.” Matthew shook his head. “It is too dangerous.”

  “Not nearly as dangerous as what her sisters and our people will face if she stays here,” Kjar said. “She needs to go to Aella and see if she cannot find favor amongst our gods. It is her only hope.” His eyes met Cybil’s. “It is my fault this has happened. Therefore, I will go with you and protect you at all costs.”

  “This is what I sensed all along because of my actions in Scotland, Uncle, so the fault is mine,” Heidrek said to Kjar. “I will go with you as well.”

  “You will not,” Matthew bit out sharply. “You are set to become king. You must stay with your people.” His eyes went to Naðr’s. “I will go with her and Kjar.”

  Naðr’s eyes flickered between the brothers before landing on Kjar. “You understand the dynamics of this better than I. You travel not only through enemy territory but over treacherous land and water. Who needs to travel with you and who needs to stay here to protect our people?”

  “The lure will be Cybil so the threat here will be minimal,” Kjar said. “I will bring Heidrek, Matthew, and Bjorn with me as well as several warriors.”

  “You ask to take Raknar’s only sons.” Naðr frowned. “He will not be happy about that.”

  Heidrek noticed that Naðr didn’t mention that Kjar also wanted to take the king’s only son. But then he knew how close Bjorn and Naðr were and how wounded Bjorn would be if he learned he was requested on this journey and was denied the chance to go.

  “I requested who I think is best fit,” Kjar said. “Those best suited for what Aella senses is ahead.”

  “And will you be sharing what that is?” Naðr murmured.

  “No.” Kjar kept his voice low and respectful. “But know that if the god’s wish it, you only show them favor by trusting me.”

  Though disgruntled, Naðr nodded his agreement.

  “What about Erin and Ronan?” Cybil said. “Can they come?”

  “No.” Kjar’s eyes stayed on Naðr. “You should send them back to Scotland. It would be best for the MacLomains to keep our people separated, at least for now.”

  Worried that this might be too much for her, Heidrek’s eyes went to Cybil. She, however, stared at the fire, her brows furrowed. He wished he could pull her into his arms and tell her it would be okay without Erin there. That she still had people she could talk to. Friends.

  “When will you be leaving?” Naðr asked. “The Thing is scheduled for a few hours from now.” His eyes went to Heidrek’s. “But it can be pushed forward if need be.”

  “No, everything has changed.” Kjar stood and shook his head. “Cybil should not be claimed until she has spoken with the gods.”

  “Spoken with the gods,” Cybil whispered and shook her head, eyes rising to Kjar. “Seriously?”

  “Yes. I am sorry.” His eyes swept over the group. “We leave soon. A storm comes, and we should sail as much of the coast as we possibly can first.”

  Cybil’s eyebrows perked. “We’re hitting the water?”

  “We are,” Kjar confirmed as he held out his hand. “Come, Cybil. I wish to speak with you alone then Megan will help you get ready.”

  She nodded and joined him but not before her eyes met Heidrek’s. Though she looked away quickly, everything he needed to know was right there in her eyes. The odd limbo of desire they were caught in. And the memory of what they were so close to doing before Kjar shared his news with everyone just days ago.

  When Matthew stood to follow, Naðr shook his head. “Sit, Nephew. I wish to speak to you and Heidrek.”

  Matthew lowered and nodded. “Of course, Uncle.”

  Though Heidrek felt the same old anger directed at him from his brother, he sensed something else as well. A new lightness. Something that hadn’t been there before. He didn’t have to wonder why. Cybil had caused it.

  Loki’s balls, his brother truly cared about her.

  A long silence passed as Naðr eyed them both with a heavy frown. When he spoke at last, the inflection in his voice was far different than the tone he usually used with them. “I am speaking not as your uncle but your king.”

  His eyes lingered on Matthew first. “I was not impressed with your behavior when Cybil arrived. You didn’t show the strength of a first born Viking dragon. Instead, you acted like a petty man with a weak, bitter heart. Since then, you have shown little improvement save swooning over a woman that has not returned your affections.”

  Then his eyes swung to Heidrek. “And you have not been much better. Yes, you have kept your distance from her as asked but you have done nothing but scowl ever since.” His tone grew darker. “Not like the king I have spent long hours grooming you to be. You have behaved like a youth eager to go against your elder’s wishes at the first possible chance.” His eyes narrowed. “You have a beast trapped inside of you, Nephew. You control it. Not the other way around.”

  “He does have a beastie,” Matthew started, but Naðr leaned forward, his dragon eyes evident and his tone threatening. “You do not speak against your brother in my presence.” He inhaled deeply and kept his eyes on Matthew. “I grow tired of it. As does your kin.” Heidrek felt the fury bubbling inside his king when Naðr seethed, “As. Does. Your. Queen.”

  Heidrek dropped to a knee and lowered his head in respect and hoped Matthew was smart enough to do the same. Because nobody deserved it more than King Naðr and he was raging mad. Something that rarely happened. And he knew the real reason why. It wasn’t just the long-standing rivalry between Heidrek and his brother but the heartbreak he was silently suffering due to Megan’s illness.

  Thankfully, Matthew followed suit and knelt. Another long silence passed before Naðr continued. “Both of you look at me and listen very carefully.” So they did. “My only son travels with you and will meet an honorable death and feast in Valhalla if it is his time.”

  Naðr's eyes narrowed, his voice hitting that same dangerous pitch again. “But if I find out he met his death because you two could not stand as one, then you will no longer have a home here, and I will kill you upon sight.” His eyes went between them. “Do you understand?”

  “You have my word, my King.” Heidrek lowered his head again. “Bjorn will not be put at risk because of my past with my brother. We will stand as one.”

  More silence fell.

  “Pledge it, Brother,” he said into Matthew’s mind. A place he hadn’t dared to go since the raid that had cost them so much. A place he missed. But Naðr had never been more serious, and Heidrek felt it in his bones. “Please.”

  As he was sure Naðr did, Heidrek sensed Matthew rebelling against the king’s wishes. More than that, the fact Heidrek dared to be inside his mind. But though his brother had been a brooding beast for years, it seemed Cybil and Bjorn meant more to him.

  “You have my word as well, my King,” Mathew finally said. “I will stand with my brother. Bjorn will not be put at risk.”

  Naðr eyed them for several moments before he nodded and left.

  “Brother,” Heidrek started, hoping for the best. But Matthew shook his head and interrupted.

  “I made a promise to our king and will see it through.” He never looked at Heidrek but strode out, tossing over his shoulder. “You are no brother of mine.”

  He plunked down in a chair and sighed. Matthew had every right to feel the way he did. Their sister and his brother’s wife had died in that raid. Heidrek wasn’t where he should have been. Nothing went as planned. But he had been in charge so it was very much his fault.

  When that familiar pain tried to surface, he pushed it down. It had no place in his thoughts right now. It would be dealt with later. When he could set aside what he needed to do for his people and focus on all the
mistakes he made that horrible day.

  “Son.”

  He smoothed his expression when his father’s hand settled on his shoulder. “Father.”

  Raknar sat next to him. Though his expression was as stern as ever, he didn’t miss the worry in his eyes. “I know what you are about to undertake, and I know you will protect and serve with honor, just as you have always done.”

  He nodded. “I will. You have my word.”

  “I do not need your word,” Raknar said. “Because I know who you are.”

  Where he had one sort of relationship with Naðr, as an uncle and mentor, he and his father had always shared something easier.

  “Look at me, Son,” Raknar said softly.

  So he did.

  “You will meet this challenge. You will do right by your king and brother.” Raknar clasped his shoulder. “But you will also do right by your heart. Do you understand?”

  Right by his heart? A heart he wasn’t allowed? Yet he nodded. “Of course, Father.”

  Raknar’s eyes narrowed slightly. “No matter what happens, your mother and I will stand by you. We are very proud of you.”

  What he wouldn’t do to be young again. He wanted to wrap his arms around his father. To be the boy he used to be. But all that was over now. It had been since he was fifteen winters and took on a new role. “I know, Father. Thank you.”

  His father’s eyes never left his. “I hope you do.” He squeezed Heidrek’s shoulder. “Because if nothing else has been proven, it’s that time is limited.” Raknar’s expression grew different, more intense. “I know you are facing a new side of yourself. A darker, more difficult side.” His father’s eyes held his. “Search out the goodness in it. Embrace it when you feel as though you should suppress it.”

  He couldn’t fathom anything good in what was rising up in him. It felt too dominant and unforgiving. But he wouldn’t tell his father that. “I will.”

  Then Raknar said something he had never once voiced, never acknowledged, because of his deep hatred for Heidrek’s birth mother. “You are not only my son, a Sigdir, and dragon-shifter, but of Thor’s blood. If the time is finally here that you must claim it, then do so with pride and redirect his wrath where it needs to be. Do not fight it but channel it.”