“Fine, I won’t. But that’s when I said what I said to Mother and Father. And stupid me mentioned Siegfried, too.”
Ale spluttered, tankards dropped, good ale wasted on stone.
Hartwin wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She was glad for the warmth. A chill had gotten into her because of the storm that hovered over Folkvang. The hair on her nape stood up.
“What happened? You’ve kept silent all this time,” Berengar said. “You’re going to have to mind your tongue with Etainen. You know he supports Rome. If he hurts you, we will see him dead, and then we will have war with Rome. I don’t know how readily King Vercingetorix would accept our help. You need to be wary of what you do and say, because they will not hesitate to be rid of you and appoint a new ruler.”
“I’ll just tell Vercingetorix that I’m Swan,” she said. “I’ll tell him I’ve been freeing his people.”
“You have to marry Etainen, Freya. If you don’t, it will insult the honor of the Remi,” Berengar said.
“Honor? We lost our honor a long time ago when we greased our asses with olive oil and spread our cheeks for Rome. My temper and outspokenness have always been a problem, only you’ve been my outlet for that. I don’t see myself suddenly curbing them when you’re not there. In fact, it is suddenly worse.” Since I got my powers.
“There are other reasons why you might have difficulty with Etainen if he wants the, ah, conventional,” Hartwin said.
They’d discussed this before as well. Freya had always been curious about bed sport and intrigued. Her men had heard the tales she wrote about Swan and the hero she called Bow.
“That, too,” Faramund said. “If Etainen doesn’t have the ballocks to stand up to Rome for his people, then he probably won’t have them where Freya wants them, either. Maybe he’d run if he read one of those tales. There have to be better men who would want to pledge eternity to her.”
Faramund had no idea how literal eternity might be in her case.
“You must apologize to Pompey,” Berengar said. “Insist you’d had too much ale and were worried over your upcoming wedding and that you didn’t mean to take it out on him. You might add in that you and Odilia do not get along.”
Faramund raked his fingers through his hair. “I would venture if you speak kindly of Rome, you can probably save the match, at least for now.”
“You do this for your people,” Berengar reminded her. “Maybe you can slowly and carefully sway Etainen. Maybe you can stand against Rome together and join King Vercingetorix. At the very least, if you can’t sway him, if you appear loyal enough to Rome, you can find a way to continue giving Siegfried information about what Rome is doing. I imagine Etainen knows many Roman plans, maybe even more than your parents.”
Freya jolted with the knowledge that she’d be better able to help Siegfried from the position of Etainen’s wife. She’d be with Etainen in most of his audiences with Roman leaders if she pretended to be a loyal wife. She wouldn’t just be another princess, but his queen.
She grabbed the hnefatafl board. “Who wants to be my first victim?”
If she could not beat Pompey at the moment, she could at least beat someone in her favorite game. Hnefatafl would give her something to do with her thoughts and her hands. If she thought any longer, she really thought she’d just scream and tear at her hair.
****
“I’m pretending to be your lady’s maid, but don’t expect miracles,” the large-breasted woman said to Freya when she arrived in her chamber. Surly Kirsa, man-obsessed Kirsa, now had a surly, man-obsessed counterpart.
“Hedwig.” Freya grabbed her arm and pushed her onto the chaise lounge resting against the wall opposite the window. Why would she possibly be glad to see the Sea Witch? “You’re my new lady’s maid?”
“Yes. Your mother, the fey one, is seriously evil. Not as evil as I am, but close, if she got me to do this,” Hedwig said. “Drink. I’ve been. There’s some of that blueberry ale for you. I have my own beverage.”
Freya decided she ought to avoid alcohol at the moment, as she would soon be meeting with Etainen. She had already had more than she should have while playing hnefatafl, combined with what she’d already had in the audience with Pompey.
Hedwig was looking around the room in obvious distaste. Her chamber was one small room in the so-called palace, with a smooth stone floor and was situated just above the audience chamber. The three-story edifice seemed large in comparison to the mud, wood, and leather structures erected by the other tribes. What were palaces like in the fey world? Judging from the look on Hedwig’s face, the Otherworld must have far grander things. Perhaps they were even five stories tall.
There was the lumpy mattress covered in furs against a wall. A wooden dresser with a mirror and wilted flowers atop it, and a stool sat opposite the bed. Another wooden cabinet, painted with flowers, housed her clothing, and underneath the clothing, her precious scrolls full of her tales about Swan and Bow. Small shells sat amongst more decaying flowers on the window sill that looked out at the river. On one wall was a drawing of Siegfried’s boat, the River Queen, on parchment, something she’d gotten from Ulf.
“Why haven’t one of you posed as a serving maid since I was a child? Wouldn’t that have made your tasks much easier?” Freya asked, crumpling a wilted flower in her fingers.
“I hate dealing with people. Did I mention that? Quite sure I have,” Hedwig said. “If I’d been stuck in this palace since you were a babe, I would have probably forgotten something important years ago, like not killing someone who irritated me.”
“That’s not a concern now?” With Freya’s lack of control, she’d retaliate against Hedwig in some awful way if Hedwig killed an innocent. She didn’t know Hedwig’s powers, but it could promise to be an insane battle that would raze Folkvang. Would that be a bad thing considering the amount of Romans and Roman supporters inside?
“I’d concern myself if I were you. But if I make a mistake, you’d better make excuses for me. I’m here as a favor to you.”
Freya wanted to tell Hedwig to be careful, lest Pompey or Odilia decide her odd behavior was a sure sign she was a pirate. Instead, Freya sipped some of the blueberry ale. She was proving to be enough of a focus for the two. But if Hedwig’s attitude incited some ire, she probably deserved it for all her scornful remarks about Freya. Freya just hoped she’d be around to watch. What could or would the Sea Witch do to Pompey or Odilia?
“Oh, gods. You’re depressed now.” Hedwig rolled her eyes. She adjusted herself on the chaise so she was reclining. Her shoes now had heels again. “I’d tell you to go somewhere else or tell my sea beasts to eat you, but I’m not at home, unfortunately. So, let’s hear what’s bothering you.” It sounded like Freya’s troubles were the last thing Hedwig wanted to hear.
Freya decided to make her listen to every detail, just for the fun of punishing her. She told Hedwig all that had happened since she’d left the fey at the ruins.
“Who cares about a stupid pledge to Etainen? You’re the one who’s going to have to let him ride you from now until about fifty years from now. A pledge is worth that? And he is going to be really old in fifty years. Probably wrinkly. I know what Morrigan said, but…”
“What would you do?”
“Let’s see… First off, I’d show Pompous what to do with his orders and who really is in charge. Next, I’d do the same with Etainen. No, I’d just educate the two at the same time.” Hedwig licked her lips. “Then, I’d quit this place and avoid both men. If you want that Sig-Fry man, have at him. You can stop people’s hearts. Who’s going to want to fight that?”
“That is actually tempting. Why is that tempting?” Freya started to sit on the bed, then remembered it was filled with those boxes. She elected to stand over Hedwig, arms folded.
“You’re Hecate’s daughter. Don’t you ever feel the need to do what you want and be happy? That’s what Hecate does. Let me know if you also feel any sort of urge to reanimate the dead. I really wish
you’d ended up with that power. That would have been fun. Have a few drinks, make a few people who died violent deaths come back to life, leave them at the homes of their murderers, or even send them to the Roman forum just for amusement. But Hecate doesn’t do things like that. Not since she had you.” Hedwig rolled her eyes.
“This doesn’t seem real to me. I don’t know what I’m doing, Hedwig. I just know how much this means to my parents, the human ones.”
Hedwig rose and grabbed Freya’s face. “I don’t care what seems real to you. Stop whining and start doing something about it. You better keep yourself happy. I don’t know if you noticed, but your powers respond to your emotions, the same as Beasts’ powers do. Unless you want to start making people’s hearts explode out of their chests, you should start worrying about you. I’ll admit, I wouldn’t mind seeing annoying people explode. Shut up and drink.” The Sea Witch thrust a skin at Freya before returning to the chaise.
“I know you don’t care, but my human parents could get in a lot of trouble with Rome if I don’t marry Etainen.”
“Your human parents are upsetting you. Oh, and you can thank me that your human mother didn’t die of the bloody flux by now. She asked me all kinds of annoying questions, like if I’d ever been a lady’s maid before. Do I look like a maid? I finally just showed her some of the garments Morrigan had me make for you and she shut up.”
“I just don’t feel like going to drink, Hedwig. Sorry, but Ulf was killed.”
“Ulf? The man you bought sex toys from?” Hedwig made a frustrated sound and shoved her long hair over her shoulder. “Fine. I might be able to help you. Do you have a plan?”
After Freya had divulged her scheme to act like a loyal wife while supplying Siegfried with Rome’s plans, Hedwig nodded. “Let me add to that. Be obnoxious about loving Rome. Leave no doubt whatsoever.”
So say what I say about Siegfried to my men and simply substitute Rome? This could work. I’ll just have to not be attracted at all to Etainen.
“Oh, and Freya, I reworked your wedding toga. The thing was hideous,” Hedwig said. “The pale yellow was all wrong for your hair.”
“Odilia insisted on that color,” Freya said, already knowing Hedwig was right.
Hedwig waved off Freya’s concerns. “I made you a new one in purple. Needed to do something to keep myself from boredom here.”
“Thank you. But I can’t wear purple.” She explained the protocol about wearing that shade, then waited for the Sea Witch’s angry reaction.
“You’re wearing purple because I said so,” Hedwig said again. “What’s Rome going to do about it? Send a legion of their most well-muscled males after me?” She licked her lips. “Besides, I already tossed out the other toga.”
Chapter Three
Disguised as Etainen, Siegfried finally could see what Romans looked like without swords in one hand and shields in the other. He noted the way the general slouched, his guard down, his demeanor tired. Siegfried would never drop his guard around any but his most trusted men, but he hid his disgust. For now, he was Etainen, Chieftain of the Cimbri, bridegroom of Freya of the Remi, and ally to this less-than-impressive Roman general.
His bedchamber, a few doors from Freya’s, was richly appointed with porcelain plates, silks, crystal goblets, mahogany floors and furniture, and sable bed furs. It disgusted him, how much the Remi were enjoying their alliance with Rome.
He was still thinking about Swan, the alleged prostitute. She’d smelled of the sea and perfume, and her candidness had made him want to laugh. At first, he’d been uncertain, but her behavior had been so unexpected and abnormal. Lopsided Lady? She’d been daring enough to taunt Pompey, too. He hadn’t expected her to be so sloppy as to get caught, not when she’d been sneaking into this palace and freeing his people, not when she’d been savvy enough to pass him the information he needed in order to be here.
If there was further information he needed, “Etainen” would have to get it from Pompey. He’d cut his ties to his own people, lest they be captured, tortured, and questioned, although there were some in the dungeons below, despite his efforts. Swan would be here tonight to free them, he guessed. He’d aid her as best he could, but he hadn’t figured out how to do that yet.
He still tasted her kiss. She had been…practiced. But why not? She was a whore.
General Pompey, still wearing his helm, had come to speak to Etainen. He sat slumped in a wooden chair finished with a gilded leaf pattern and thickly padded under a blue silk cushion. The table between them was white marble with gold veins.
The Roman’s helm was askew, revealing a receding hairline on the left side. His skin was gray, his lips dry. He looked as if he’d aged a decade since Siegfried had seen him in the marketplace.
“To what do I owe this visit?” Siegfried asked, although he should know very well.
“Your actions earlier,” Pompey said. “That prostitute was to be an example, yet every effort I made to do so, you thwarted.”
“I see. But you’re not seeing my situation. I am new to the Remi. The Remi and Rome undoubtedly view my people as barbaric, given our history and the continuing actions of Siegfried. I would have the loyalty of the Remi, so they will trust my decisions and follow me, as you would have me follow Rome. If I spare a prostitute, then what would I do for others? They’ll trust me more now when I make decisions in regard to their safety. I know that’s what Rome wants, as well as I. And what is less barbaric than mercy?”
Pompey nodded weakly.
“You do not look well,” Siegfried said.
Pompey’s hand fisted over his heart. “A heart ailment…I was just angered. Furious. What angered me is your betrothed.”
When Siegfried said naught, Pompey went on to relay his conversation with Freya.
“So, the woman disobeys her parents and is a little foolish,” Siegfried said, hiding his amusement and guilt. This Freya would be getting a wedding, then taken immediately to King Vercingetorix as a hostage. “I would not expect less from a pampered princess. I do not see why this is a matter for a Roman general. I, too, love Rome’s laws, but a silly princess is hardly where we should expend our efforts.”
“I had thought she was slow when she’d panicked earlier. But then, she became angered after Odilia discussed pirates, and the girl lost her temper, abandoned any pretense, and said she was ashamed of her parents for working with Rome. So, she’d been toying with me earlier, only pretending to be an imbecile. She went so far as to exonerate Siegfried the Fox, saying the tribes would not be in such a situation if everyone were a little more like that outlaw.”
Siegfried stiffened. “So, she speaks treason in front of Rome’s allies. The fool.” A supporter? The Remi princess supported him? He hadn’t heard a thing to indicate that, and he’d done his research. But not much was known about Freya, who was kept constantly in the palace.
“You see why this is a concern, Etainen. As a princess, she is an example to her people. Some of your people already support Siegfried. Enough of the tribes already support Vercingetorix.”
“Indeed,” Siegfried said. Many people did not support Chieftain Etainen. Even though his lands were across the Rhine, by throwing his lot in with Vercingetorix, he might be able to stop Rome at Gaul. Etainen’s continued alliance with Rome was not popular with the oppressed tribes. “Yet, it would be folly to act against the Remi princess. It would anger her people. Leave Freya to me. I can handle princesses as well as prostitutes.”
“You’d best. Siegfried will probably be in the vicinity, hoping to stop this wedding somehow.”
“Undoubtedly he’s already discovered our plans. He probably wants my blood as well as yours.”
“Yes, well, I would not be surprised if this barbarian wench would assist him if he asked. I’ve come to see the barbarians very much like the Remi horses. They are infamously wild until a saddle is placed on them. You must see your mare is reined in.”
“I will speak with her, then,” Siegfried said. Rein he
r in, tame her. The thought of dominating a woman would normally entice him, even a woman he hadn’t met yet. Ever since meeting Swan in the marketplace, Siegfried couldn’t stop wondering what Swan was doing with that interesting sex toy.
“See you do. If she helps Siegfried, you’ll both be implicated as traitors to Rome. Odilia has told me where you can find Freya, at least later in the evening. The soldiers’ barracks. Gaming and swilling ale. This is proof that this mare is in need of a saddle.”
“I did not know you were given to jests, Pompey.” He snorted at the thought of a gently raised princess, growing up amidst all this finery, imbibing and placing bets.
“I’m not jesting. She reeked of drink earlier. She’ll probably be glad to miss dinner for want of sleeping it off. She might be more able to see reason if she is not drunk. Don’t go too late, or she’ll be drunk again.”
Swan had smelled of drink, too…and tasted of it. He’d talk with Freya but not try to win her affections, else another admirer would seek to tame him. Etainen could not be concerned with Freya any more than Siegfried could afford to be distracted by Swan. It should not be so difficult to guard himself from these women, not with Julia so fresh in his mind. Two years was fresh, was it not?
There was a tentative rap on the door. Pompey called for the visitor to enter. A small woman with a winged band resting on the brightest blonde head he’d ever seen stepped through the door. Her lashes were lowered, and she worried her lip while knotting her fingers in a vivid purple toga. Tyrian purple. The toga wrapped around her slender body and high breasts, but her arms were bare, banded with abalone and a bandage. Another woman was behind her, a large-breasted woman with long, black hair. The high-heeled shoes of Egyptian prostitutes clacked under a black toga that managed to cling to every curve.
“Um, Pompey?” The blonde made a nervous bow and almost tripped. She was limping. “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I’ve been so out of sorts that I can’t think straight with the wedding coming up. Odilia and I don’t get along. I just didn’t want to see her, so I said what I said to make her angry. I guess I did want to see her, so I could use her as a scapegoat for my irritation. I think it’s funny when she turns that really weird shade of gray and then purple, like someone’s strangling her. The color even has its own name. Grurple.”
Siren Slave Page 6
