The Berserker Brides Saga

by Lee Savino

  “When Rolf and I first met, I thought he was too small to be a good warrior. I challenged him to a fight. He bested me within three minutes. I thought it was a mistake, until the next battle we fought in, when he saved my life.” Under the beard, Thorbjorn’s mouth creased at the memory. “Later, I returned the favor. Do you want to hear the story?”

  I nodded.

  “He was trapped by a witch, in a place of black magic. She wanted him for her familiar.”

  A low whine escaped the wolf’s mouth. I stroked his ears to soothe him, and he settled down.

  “I broke him free. We were separated from the pack, in the wilderness. He was skin and bones, but still could hunt. We brought down as much game as we could, and I learned to cook over a fire. It took a few days, but at last I cooked well enough to tempt him.” Thorbjorn paused his story to poke at the meat, and stripped off a bit to taste it. “I’ve never tried using herbs though. Perhaps he would’ve eaten faster if I’d used sage. But then he might have a taste for you.”

  I sucked in a breath until the warrior winked at me. He was teasing. The wolf licked my arm.

  “How does she taste?” Thorbjorn asked, and it barked.

  “Don’t worry, little one. He prefers boar. Ah, there’s a smile.”

  I ducked my head, but I was smiling.

  “Hope to see more of that. For now, here’s more food.” Thorbjorn held out a thick leg of meat. The wolf took it gingerly in his teeth, and brought it to me. I tried to take it and he jerked it away.

  “Let him feed you,” Thorbjorn instructed.

  The wolf held the hunk of meat while I stripped pieces of meat from the bone.

  “All done?” Thorbjorn asked.

  When I nodded and thanked them, the wolf tossed the remains of my meal in the air and gulped it down with a snap, crunching on the bones.

  “The holy man was lucky I didn’t have Rolf end him.” Thorbjorn murmured. He might not have meant for me to hear, but the sound carried.

  I turned my head and vomited up all the food I’d eaten.

  Thorbjorn

  “Hush, hush,” I crooned bending over Sage on her hands and knees. She purged, cried, and purged again while I held her hair. When she finished, I folded her in my arms, wiping her mouth on the edge of my torn jerkin.

  Idiot. Rolf tossed his wolf head.

  I am. We must take care. We have seen so much. She is an innocent.

  Her sniffing turned into coughing.

  This wet air is not good for her.

  Grey Men are about. We’re stuck here for a while.

  “Here,” I tucked the wolf pelt around her. “You must keep warm.”

  “What are you going to do with me?” Her small body shook. “You say my friends are safe.”

  “They are. As safe as they can be. You will just have to trust us.”

  “I do not like it here,” she shivered, and I tightened my hold on her. She was so small and sweet, too frail for my liking. It had been many years since I cared for another, but for her sake, I would try to remember.

  “We must hide here for a little while.”

  “Why?”

  “There’s an evil king after you. He is trying to take you from us.”

  “Why? What have I done?”

  “Not what you’ve done, but who you are.”

  Her chest kicked with a mirthless laugh. “An orphan?”

  “You are more than an orphan. But this is talk for another time. Sleep,” I told her. To my surprise, she did.

  Who knows how long we sat waiting there in the darkness. Sage dozed, and I felt lucky she was so comfortable with me. Our woman slept in fits and starts. I flinched when she coughed.

  She grows ill.

  The mist. It is the Corpse King’s doing. It harms the spaewives.

  We should leave this place soon. The damp air isn’t good for her.

  Soon. When there are no Grey Men about.

  Thin light trickled through cracks in the cave wall. Rolf raised his head. The Grey Men are crawling outside.

  Berserkers, hiding instead of leaping into a fight. It isn’t right.

  We have another to think of, Rolf chided.

  He was right. Anything we did might put Sage in danger. We could not risk her.

  Sage moaned again.

  Thorbjorn, you must keep her quiet.

  I set my lips to her ear and whispered. “You are safe with us, sweet one. You need not be frightened. You will never be alone again.”

  Rolf

  As my warrior brother comforted the little female, I thought of all the nights the beast had howled within me, gnawing my insides in its hunger for blood.

  It’s almost over, Rolf, Thorbjorn spoke using the links between our mind, strong from a century of use.

  I met my warrior brother’s gaze. Back in the abbey, I thought you would lose control.

  I nearly did. You know the oath I made. If my beast claims my mind before we bond with a mate, you are to kill me.

  I know. I made the same oath.

  I Changed. The magic left a wolf pelt about my shoulders. I took it off and dropped it next to Thorbjorn, for him to wrap around our little captive. He tucked the fur around her small form, tender as a father with his child.

  Crossing my arms, I retreated to a boulder and leaned against it. I remembered how soft and warm she was, but did not think I could ever bring myself to touch her. The wolf could, but I could not.

  How is it a female so small and frail can save us? Thorbjorn mused. We are stronger than any creature on earth, but we cannot rule ourselves. We need a woman’s gentleness to do it.

  I shook my head. I do not understand it.

  Nor do I, Rolf, but we have seen it. Our Alphas claimed their woman, and the entire pack could hope. Thorbjorn lay a hand on her forehead. Here is our hope. She holds our lives in her small hands.

  Closing my eyes, I pressed my back against the boulder. Thorbjorn was a good warrior. He’d fought long by my side. We’d shared many horns of mead, swapped many stories. Suffered together on nights when the beast within howled for blood, and would not be silent. But I had to tell him the truth.

  I envy you, brother, I said. You are so sure of yourself. I have long lost all hope.

  Then trust me. The night is almost over. I have hope enough to carry us to the dawn.

  Thorbjorn

  Dawn came with a grey light filtering through the cave.

  I’ll go scout. Rolf rose.

  Careful, brother.

  I laid the woman on the pelts and took a scrap of cloth to dip in the river. The water was cold. I wished I could heat it and bathe her. I knelt near her and unwrapped her dirty legs from the furs, frowning at the bruises on her arms.

  She has been ill used, I told Rolf. We must go slowly, and earn her trust.

  We will care for her, we will never allow her to be hurt again.

  With the rage beating in my chest, I only hoped it was true.

  Her eyes blinked awake.

  “What are you doing?” she whimpered.

  “Washing you, sweet one. I mean you no harm.”

  I waited for her nod before raising each foot to wipe clean.

  She watched me warily, and flinched away from my touch.

  I shared the image with my warrior brother.

  The ghost of the friar still lives in her mind, he said.

  What can I do? I rose up, hating how she cringed away. I cannot kill him again. How do we compete with a ghost?

  Rolf did not answer. I knew he was thinking of his own ghosts.

  “Why did you protect the friar?” I asked, wondering aloud. I did not expect an answer.

  She jerked her head away from my touch. The shadows lay across her face. “He is a victim, too.”

  I swallowed a snarl. I didn’t want my mate to think of any man but me and my warrior brother. “He hurt you.”

  “As he was hurt,” she said, and her firm tone amused me before I remembered she defended a dead man. One who deserved
to die.

  “He chose evil ways. He hurt you, and he served the Corpse King. We know the holy man plotted with the Corpse King to keep the spaewives and sell them.”

  A little furrow appeared on her brow as she thought this through. “You said you know Hazel.”

  “Yes. She escaped from the Corpse King’s lair, and one of the Berserkers rescued her and took her to mate.”

  She fell silent, gnawing her lip.

  Rolf strode in, gesturing to the fire. Snuff that out.

  We kicked sand into it.

  The mist is thick outside, as is the stench of the Grey Men. But there’s a way through. We must be ready.

  “We leave soon,” I told Sage.

  With a little nod, she rose and undid her braid, shaking out her hair.

  “Sage?”

  “You said Hazel was taken as a mate. I want to know what will become of me.”

  “Very well. There will be no lies between us. You are here with us, now, because our beast has chosen you to mate.”

  A little pink came into her cheeks, and curiosity tinged her scent. “What does that mean?”

  “It means we will care for you. Treat you as our own.”

  “Both of you?”

  “Both of us. We are closer than brothers, after many years of fighting together, and aiding each other in controlling our nature. We speak and act in accord.”

  “You say I am to be your mate. Is that like a wife?”

  “A wife and more than a wife. A love for all time.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, but her gaze fell to the cave floor.

  “All right,” she whispered, more to herself than to us.

  She stripped off her shift and let it drop to her feet. I felt alarm at the change in her scent. Not arousal.

  Despair.

  I half rose to my feet. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m ready,” she whispered, wrapping her arms about her frail body. Her little nipples jutted out with the chill of the cave. She was shivering.

  Rolf glanced at me and I shook my head.

  “No, lass.” Lifting the pelt, I came to her and wrapped her up tight.

  She stared at the center of my chest. “Aren’t I what you want?”

  “Yes, but not like this. Never like this.” I tucked the pelt tighter around her until she grasped the ends to hold it around herself. I couldn’t stop from cupping the side of her head and pulling her close, my lips against her hair. “We are willing to wait until you are ready.”

  This time the tremor went through her shook me as well.

  “Let us feed you more.”

  Sage

  The warriors kept me between them, offering me dried bits of meat to eat. I choked down what I could, but my throat was raw from suppressing the cough. They said they’d care for me, but I didn’t want them to decide I wasn’t worth the trouble. If they could not take me soon, would they kill me?

  “Sage,” the bearded one caught my chin in a gentle grip. “What are you thinking?”

  I shook my head. “Forgive me. I am weak.”

  He enfolded me in his arms. I waited, but he did nothing but hold me, so tense my bones might break, against his firm, warm chest. “Calm, sweet one,” he murmured, nuzzling the top of my head. “I expect nothing of you. You have been through too much, too soon, and for that I grieve. But I have long awaited this moment. I wish simply to hold you.”

  The reverence in his tone made me blink back tears. I’m foolish. He was my captor. I shouldn’t pity him. But when his large hands threaded gently in my hair, my shoulders and back relaxed.

  “How long?” I murmured. Under my cheek, his chest rose and fell in simple rhythm. His wild, masculine scent enveloped me.

  He bent his head, so his beard tickled my face.

  “What do you ask?”

  I raised my head. His eyes had a thick ring of gold around the black pupil, just like a wolf’s.

  “How long have you waited for me?”

  “Too long.” He gripped me tighter. “Far too long. We are ancient, you will find.” He grimaced. “But we are willing to learn what it is to love.”

  I sank against him again, feeling tired, feeling heavy.

  His hand danced over my hair, sometimes stroking, sometimes teasing the back of my neck. My body melted into his, drinking in every bit of his warmth.

  Rolf returned and I stiffened all over again.

  “Hush,” Thorbjorn crooned. “Hush,” and for some reason, my body obeyed. I was dirty, wet, and cold, but somehow, deep in my soul, I knew I was safe. I hadn’t felt that way in a very, very long time.

  I woke with a weight sitting on my chest, threatening to push me deep into the ground. I closed my eyes. It took too much energy to keep them open.

  “Sage,” Thorbjorn shook me awake. “We must go. Come, you must drink a little more.”

  He lifted the waterskin. Even though my throat felt parched, I turned my head away.

  “You will obey.” His stern tone seized me, but then it softened. “Please, sweetheart. We will never order you to do something that will bring you harm.”

  With a sigh, I faced him again. If they wanted me to do something, they could force me. So far all they’d done was care for me.

  I wondered when that would change.

  When he raised the waterskin again, I drank. The wolf sat in the shadows, watching us.

  “Good girl,” Thorbjorn said when I took a few sips. “We will go quickly and not stop for many hours. Rolf went out and scouted the way. He stole some clothes for you.” He held them up.

  A cloak and a shapeless dress that would scarce cover my knees.

  “Those are for a child.”

  “Well, we're lucky then that you are a wee thing. Put them on.”

  “But—”

  “Hands up.”

  Thorbjorn had my dress over my head, and had tugged the shift over me before I could protest.

  “Much better. I did not like seeing you covered in mud. Besides, the Grey Men can follow the scent.”

  He tossed my dress on the fire. And just like that, my old life was gone.

  I coughed, chest aching. “What will we do now?”

  Thorbjorn lifted me. My arms went around his neck automatically. He smelled a bit like the air after a hard rain, oddly, the scent comforted me. “We head north, to find a safe place to hide. If the draugr attack, Rolf will distract them.”

  We left the cave and fled into the gloom.

  I did not know whether it was day or night. For long hours, Thorbjorn carried me through the mist. My head throbbed, and my vision swam. At times, I opened my eyes, not remembering when I’d closed them. I squinted through a pinhole of pain, waiting for the fog to lift and the sun to shine again.

  Thorbjorn

  The little one in my arms labored to breathe.

  Please. I allowed myself to pray. We had waited so long to find our mate. We cannot lose her.

  We will save her, Rolf said.

  Sage’s head lolled against my chest in fitful sleep. I gritted my teeth. We could not rest until she was safe.

  By afternoon a thin light filtered through. The mist lifted a little.

  Ahead Rolf stopped, and barked.

  Where are we?

  North of the abbey by a league. The Corpse King uses his powers to cover the land with a wicked spell.

  I set the woman down, and she curled into a ball. Rolf trotted to her and lay down, pressing against her small body to offer his warmth. It is not wise to stop.

  She is frail, and underfed. We cannot risk her growing too weak. I stroked the woman’s hair as she shivered against me.

  We need to build a fire, I ordered Rolf.

  We cannot risk it.

  She is cold!

  The Corpse King’s forces will find us. We must be on the move anyway.

  It is not good for her to travel.

  If we do not run, the Corpse King’s forces will come, and take her from us.

  I rose and lifted h
er.

  “Thorbjorn?” she mumbled.

  “Forgive me, sweetness. We must be on the move. The Corpse King comes for you.”

  Her arms threaded around my neck tightly. “You won’t let him hurt me?”

  “No, I will keep you safe from him.”

  She rested her forehead against my neck and let out a little sigh. “I’ll be good for you. I promise.”

  “I know, sweet one. I know.”

  Within an hour, her body was wracked with coughs.

  This will not do, Rolf said finally. She is ill, and we are cut off from the pack. What do we do now?

  Keep heading north. There's a witch who owes me a favor.

  The wolf raised his head. Careful, brother. We do not want to be indebted to one.

  Sage coughed and her whole body shook with it.

  Do you know what to do to make her well? I asked.

  You know I don’t. What manner of sickness is it, that comes on her so quickly?

  I don’t know, but a witch would, I told him.

  Rolf was silent. I felt the sick churn of his fear through the bond. I do not want to deal with a witch again.

  I grimaced. I know, brother. But this is our mate. We cannot let her die.

  As we walked, I tried to reach out to the Alphas, but could not break through.

  There is no other way, Rolf. We do not have a choice.

  I turned my feet to true north, and walked until I caught the scent of a witch, bitter and earthy, like a tomb.

  Night had fallen by the time we came to the crossroads I remembered. Gifts laid at the foot of a tall stone set on its end.

  Rolf Changed. “This is the place?”

  “Yes. Don’t you remember bringing her this stone?”

  Rolf grunted. At the foot of the marker, people had placed gifts and offerings as tribute. My warrior brother squatted near the pile, but didn’t touch it. “Plenty of gold here, brother.”

  “The witch doesn’t like gold.”

  “What then?”

  “Here, hold the girl.” Once I’d surrendered Sage to Rolf’s waiting hands, I drew my dagger and set the tip on the inside of my arm, and sliced it until my blood splashed onto the stones.