The Berserker Brides Saga

by Lee Savino

  When it was done, Haakon panted, face white with pain. The rib no longer stuck out, but his chest looked like meat. My hands covered my face, but I peered through my fingers, unable to look away.

  “Don’t just stand there,” Ulf snapped at me. “Help me.”

  I took a step back.

  “You did this to him, damn you—”

  “Ulf. No. She is our mate,” Haakon gripped his friend’s hand, and let if fall, too weak to do more.

  “What can I do?” I squeaked. It was my fault this man was in so much pain. On the cliff I wanted blindly to escape, but if I knew what the cost would be, I would’ve bided my time.

  “We must set his leg,” Ulf rose to crouch further down Haakon’s body. He touched Haakon’s knee and the suffering warrior grimaced. “We should wait until your back has healed. But then we will have to rebreak the bones that knit together wrong. Can you feel your feet?”

  “Aye,” Haakon closed his eyes. “Just do it.”

  “All right.” Ulf stripped off his own jerkin and repositioned himself at Haakon’s knee. “Cry out all you want. No need to brave.”

  Haakon replied with a string of curses comparing the scarred warrior to a castrated rabbit.

  His bravery called me to his side.

  “I need to snap the leg back into place,” Ulf told me. “otherwise it will heal this way.”

  I nodded.

  “Are you going to faint?” Ulf’s harsh voice matched the look on his scarred face.

  I shook my head. “I’ll pretend it’s a butcher’s cut.”

  Ulf’s brows went up, but Haakon laughed, a pained, rattling sound. “Good lass. You’re braver than most. Besides, I already feel like a piece of meat.”

  “All right,” Ulf knelt down, placing his bloody hands on the leg. “Let’s get this over with. Grasp his ankle, girl.”

  “Laurel,” I corrected. “My name is Laurel.”

  Haakon wheezed again, an almost laugh. “She speaks her mind.”

  “I would rather she obeyed.”

  “I’m not very good at obeying, I’m afraid.” My wild feelings unleashed my tongue. “If you wanted a docile girl, you should’ve left me in the kitchen, and carried off someone else.”

  Ulf

  The woman glared down at me. Something flickered in her scent, anger mixed with something intriguing. It was almost enough to take my thoughts off the stink of blood.

  Almost.

  I turned my head, trying very hard not to think when the beast within me raised its head, smelling fresh meat.

  Not meat. I told it.

  It’s all right, brother. Set my bone quickly and leave me to heal while you hunt. I’ll be hungry enough to eat a boar. Even in my mind, his voice was strained with agony. Our new mate can cook it.

  “Kneel here,” I ordered Laurel, directing her to a place at Haakon’s feet. She obeyed immediately, spots of color on her pale cheeks betraying her roiling emotions.

  I wanted to blister her bottom, but not as much as I wanted to build a giant tower to keep her safe from all harm. Perhaps I would spank her to tears, then hold her and tell her it would be all right.

  You should spank her, Haakon panted. I want to watch.

  Later, brother, I promised, and nodded to Laurel, who had hold of Haakon’s ankle. “Keep it straight. On my word. One, two—” I jerked the leg before Haakon could tense.

  “Argh,” Haakon cried. “Oh, you rotted bastard—” curses trickled from his lips, a colorful description of how I could stick my cock up my own ass. I let him froth while I checked his leg. The limb was still shattered, the skin torn, but at least it was straight.

  “It’s over, brother,” I told him.

  Laurel rose, wiping blood onto her shift. She needed a new garment.

  She blanched. “Is he going to live?”

  “My brother is strong. He will survive,” I said fiercely. It was the truth. Not much can kill a Berserker. But maim or scar—that was a different matter. My own face stood testament to that.

  I waited for her nod before guiding her to walk back.

  I thirst, brother, Haakon said. I unhooked my waterskin and handed it to Laurel.

  “Your nursemaid,” I said aloud, and prodded Laurel forward.

  “And such a pretty one,” Haakon rasped. “As long as she doesn’t feed me cabbage.”

  “I wouldn’t feed anyone cabbage stew,” she said, still standing clutching the waterskin.

  “No? Then why make so much?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

  “The friar hated the smell. It made him leave me alone.” Her eyes gripped the ground as she spoke.

  My hands curled to fists.

  “Did the friar bother you often?” Haakon asked.

  “Not if I had meat or other food to tempt him. The cabbage helped keep him away. My friends were not all so lucky.”

  An animal snarl broke from my lips. Laurel startled and skittered closer to Haakon.

  Easy, brother, Haakon cautioned.

  I must kill this friar.

  If any of our brothers found the man who harmed our brides, then he is already dead. If not, we will return and leave his body for the rats. Haakon tried to prop himself up on his arms, and groaned.

  Snatching the waterskin from Laurel’s hand, I knelt beside Haakon and bade him drink. “You must rest. I’ll make sure our enemies do not come near.” As soon as he was done drinking, I backed away again, the beast clawing at my mind. The smell of fresh blood hung in the air, but instead of filling me with human compassion, it only made me hungry.

  Haakon watched me go with golden eyes. He knew the danger, the Berserker madness that haunted us, made us less than men. It was not safe for me to stay while my warrior brother was so weak.

  But it might not be safe for me to leave.

  Ulf, if the enemy comes—

  I will do all I can to be sure they do not find us. Even if I must use myself as bait.

  I am better bait, brother. You should take her and leave me—

  “Never. I will not leave you. Laurel can watch over you. It’s her fault you are here.” I sounded angrier than I meant. It wasn’t the woman’s fault she feared us. Women often ran from me.

  We will teach her not to fear, Haakon said. One day she will run toward us, and not away. We will teach her.

  When you are well, I agreed, and turned to go.

  “Wait,” the woman called.

  Laurel

  The scarred warrior pivoted on his foot to face me. I flinched away from his sharp golden gaze.

  “How do I care for him?”

  The broken man wheezed behind us. Any other man would be dead from his wounds, and me along with him.

  “Keep him comfortable. As much as you can.” Ulf unhooked a small pouch from his belt. “Here. There’s dried meat in there.”

  “I don’t know if he should eat—”

  “Not for him. For you. Eat and drink if you must, to keep up your strength.” His gaze swept over me, dismissive, even when it lingered on my neckline. I wrapped my arms around my shivering body. My wet shift was near translucent.

  With a curse, Ulf handed me a second pouch. “Here’s flint. Build a fire. A small one. I will return once I know this place is secure from our enemies. But then I must hunt and get good bloody meat for Haakon.” His own stomach growled, and I took a step back.

  He caught my arm. That same power I felt in Haakon’s touch sizzled through me, settled into the cradle of my hips. My body leaned into him before I could stop it.

  “Do I have your word you will not run?” he asked.

  I stared up at him. He angled his head so the unmarred side of his face filled my vision. The dark brows and granite jaw were almost handsome.

  I had to lick my lips to answer. “If I did, I would not survive long in this wilderness.”

  “Promise me you will not,” he ordered.

  I did not promise. I had to escape. “Where would I go? I am an orphan girl. I have never even left the
abbey overnight. I do not think I will survive.”

  His face softened a touch. “We will take care of you. Watch over him. I will return soon.”

  “Tell me one thing,” I called again before he could disappear in the darkness. “My friends, the others—did they get out safely?”

  “I do not know. I cannot reach the pack. I’m sure some did.”

  I gulped.

  “Best focus on our own fate.” He nodded to Haakon. “See to him, little fighter.”

  “But—” I started, and fell silent when Ulf took my shoulders and turned me to face the suffering warrior. Was it my eyes, or did his bloodied chest fall more shallowly?

  When I looked back, Ulf was gone.

  “Come here, love,” Haakon coughed. For all I knew it was a dying man's request, so I went closer and knelt. He reached for me and I caught his arm.

  “None of your grabbing me,” I scolded. “You must not move. It will disturb your wounds.” Wounds that seemed to be closing before my very eyes, his giant body transforming and reknitting itself. He still looked very bad. I swallowed and held his hand as gently as I could.

  “Do you wish for more water?”

  “No,” he squeezed my hand. “Just sit with me, please.”

  I crouched near him, keeping my eyes on his face so I didn’t have to look at the disaster that was his body. “Forgive me,” I said again. “I never meant to cause you such harm.”

  “It was an accident,” he rasped. Sweat beaded on his brow. I lay my hand over it.

  “You’re burning up.” My stomach roiled. If fever had already set in, death was sure to follow. “I wish I knew what herbs could help you.” My sister orphans knew more of the healing arts, whereas I only knew how to make a nourishing meal.

  “Not a fever. It’s the healing power.”

  I watched in awe as a giant wound that yawned on his leg slowly closed, becoming a great shiny weal. “What are you?” I breathed.

  “Dangerous,” he said. “No one you'd want to meet on a dark night. Unless you are my true mate,” he raised a brow at me, as if expecting me to challenge him.

  I lay his hand down but did not leave his side.

  “Why did you come to the abbey?”

  “You saw those forces, the soldiers.”

  “The Grey guards.” I shuddered. My friend Hazel had spoken of them before. She thought the friar had hired them to watch the abbey. The creatures I’d seen on the road looked less like men, and more like the walking dead.

  “Grey Men, yes. You felt that wind?”

  I nodded.

  “That was a curse.”

  “Why would someone try to curse you?”

  “It was aimed at you.”

  “Me? Why? I'm an orphan. I have nothing.”

  “It's not what you have, lass,” Haakon coughed. “but what you are.”

  I chewed my lip, wanting to ask more. The warrior’s face knotted in pain as he coughed again. I waited until the spasm passed to smooth back his thick hair and wet his lips with water. He let me fuss over him, almost smiling when I leaned over him and my bosoms hung in front of his face. I didn’t protest. Anything to help this hurting man. I ignored the warm excitement that filled me.

  Haakon drew a deep breath. “Your friend Hazel sent us to rescue you.”

  “Hazel?” I sat up straight. “You know Hazel?”

  “I have seen her. She lives safe among the pack with her mate. She told us of the abbey.”

  “I thought she was dead. I thought the friar had killed her,” I whispered. My heart still twisted, remembering my grief at my friend’s disappearance. Could she really be alive—and safe among the warriors? Would this warrior lie to me? “Why did she not come? Or send word?”

  “It was not safe. There was no time. We came right away to rescue you. We could not risk the friar alerting his master.”

  “His master? He serves God.”

  “Not anymore. He did a spell to call his lord, the Corpse King.”

  “Why do you call him that? The Corpse King.”

  “The manner of his magic. Even the dead obey him. They are his servants.”

  I shuddered. “Necromancy is evil.”

  “The Corpse King is evil. And he will not rest until he enslaves as many of you and your friends as he can.”

  “Why us?”

  “You are special, little love.” His hand caught mine again, gripped it tight.

  “How?”

  “You are of a race of women whose magic runs deep.”

  I drew back, but couldn’t free my hand. “I am not a witch. I’m a good girl.”

  “Not a witch. Their magic is tainted. You are pure.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will.”

  He coughed, and this time blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth. I ripped the edge of my hem and wet it, wiping at the corner of his mouth. “You must be quiet and heal.”

  He turned his head and nipped at my hand. An arrow of heat shot through me, flushing my cheeks, dipping between my breasts and warming my nethers.

  To hide my reaction, I turned away and sighed. “I suppose you are not used to taking orders.”

  “Please—do not leave me.”

  “I will not. But you must drink and rest.”

  I held the waterskin to his lips and he raised his head to drink before laying back with a gasp and a sigh. Sweat beaded on his brow and I wiped it away.

  “Good thing we have you,” he croaked, “otherwise it would be up to Ulf to nurse me. He's more likely to toss me off another cliff.”

  I winced at the jest. “I am so sorry.”

  “Don't trouble yourself about it, lass. I'll be all right,” he stroked my arm. I should be comforting him, not the other way around.

  “Ulf will bring meat, and the magic will heal me.”

  “You should not eat meat. I can make broth, if I have a pot. Cooking was my duty in the abbey.”

  “As long as you don’t feed me cabbage. Ulf will get you what you need, along with a new garment. Something more sturdy, though I would prefer one as fine and see through as this one.” He winked at me.

  I pressed my lips together.

  “Did I offend you, lass?”

  “It's not seemly for you to comment on my state of dress.” I tugged my shift as far down over my legs at it would go, but it still left my ankles and a good portion of my calves bare.

  “Seemly?” he smirked. “Is it seemly for us to break into your home? Steal you away in the middle of the night?”

  “Well, no, but I wasn't going to speak of it.”

  “Is it unseemly to speak of your kidnapping to your own kidnappers?”

  “You are laughing at me,” I sniffed.

  “That I am. Oh come on, lass. The worst has already happened. Why not laugh?”

  “You have an odd sense of humor.”

  He started to answer and stiffened, agony flashing across his face.

  “Haakon? What’s happening?” I scooted closer.

  “’Tis nothing. Only the healing,” his voice was breathless.

  “Is there something I can do?”

  “Just be with me, lass. That is enough.”

  I wrung my hands, wishing I could give him something for the pain. The spasm passed and slowly the warrior relaxed. I cast about for something to say, a subject that would not lead to a discussion about my kidnapping or the possibility of Haakon’s death.

  “How did you and Ulf come to travel together?”

  “We are bonded. The magic does it. We share thoughts, feelings, ideas.”

  What would it be like, sharing my heart’s thoughts with another? With a man? I blushed, and Haakon grimaced.

  “It's not like that, lass. We bonded together to search for a woman,” he emphasized. “One who could free us from the curse. When we find her we will claim her—together.” The intensity in his voice made me blush. I wanted to put my hands over my face to hide my cheeks. Two men, together?

  “I s
hould build a fire,” I started to get up, and Haakon caught me.

  “Please. Stay. You warm me better than any flame.”

  His touch did the same to me, but I didn’t mention that. Instead, I settled next to him. When I put my hand over his, he relaxed.

  “I’ll stay here, if you will rest.”

  “I will rest if you tell me a tale.”

  “What tale? I don’t know many.” The stories told by the nuns were meant to warn us of the consequences of sin. Somehow I didn’t think this warrior was concerned with living a chaste and godly life.

  “Tell me about yourself.”

  “Me? There is not much interesting about me.”

  “I do not agree.” His dark gaze made my insides quiver.

  “I have lived all my life in the abbey. I never knew my family.”

  “What do you like to do?” he prompted when I fell silent.

  “I work in the kitchen.”

  “Cooking cabbage.”

  “Not only cabbage,” I smiled. “I bake bread, make honey cakes, broths—”

  “Meat?”

  “When it is to be had. The nuns and orphans rarely get such fine food.”

  “Do you like meat?” Haakon’s eyes were bright, I hoped with interest, and not with fever.

  “I do.”

  “When my warrior brother returns, he will go on the hunt for us. We will feed you meat every day,” he promised.

  “What do you like best to eat?” I asked.

  “Boar.”

  “Mmm,” my mouth watered. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the mouthful of roasted boar I’d snuck before serving the platter to the friar and his guests. “I would spit the meat—or have your warrior brother do it. Cook it slowly, perhaps with some apple wood on the fire to add to the flavor.”

  “Go on, lass,” Haakon said reverently. I relaxed. A man who enjoyed food couldn’t be too much of a monster.

  “If Ulf finds apple wood, he may also find early apples. I can slice them with sugar and spices, make a pudding. Or forage for wild onions, leeks, and garlic, and roast them too—”

  “Leave the leeks to the rabbits. I wish to hear more about the meat.” At my raised eyebrow, he added, “Please.”