Bjorn remembered the dream as if it were reality. “We were…very forward back then considering our ages.”
“We were teenagers.” Samantha snorted, rested her chin on his chest and chuckled. “Very horny teenagers.” Her brow arched as he frowned. “Oh boy, you’re thinking about Sven, aren’t you? How he’s only a few years younger than I was.”
“I had hoped to have a few more years with the boy instead of…”
When he trailed off, she chuckled again. “Too late for that. You and I both know he’s…interested in women.” Her voice softened. “But he’s not quite there yet.”
When his eyes met hers, she gave him a knowing look. “You’re inside my mind, Bjorn. So I know you know that Sven and I talked after you left the twenty-first century. Which means you know where he stands. What he’s thinking about.”
“It was good of you to do that,” he said, more appreciative of her actions than she knew. “You rallied on my behalf. You helped my son find favor with me.”
“I just told him what he already knew.” She ran her finger along his jaw. “That you loved him. That you always have.”
“But does he truly believe it?” he whispered.
***
The next day he continued to wonder about that as he made his way into Katla’s kingdom. All was quiet. The few soldiers that had still been there fled before Heidrek’s warriors started to filter in. Now preparations were underway to defend not only this village but all the smaller ones further out.
Because the enemy was coming.
When? They had no idea. But he was.
Rumors began to circulate far and wide about a white dragon that helped a blue dragon slay Agnar. Dragons who helped defend Sven and Katla. Though she seemed surprised by it, Samantha was already a hero amongst his own people. They said nothing but eyed her with respect. She was the selfless dragon who had finally freed Bjorn in more ways than one.
He entered Katla’s cottage and looked around, saddened she was no longer here while at the same time happy for her that she was gone. Free from a place that had long oppressed her. His eyes shot to the door in surprise when Sven entered. Equally caught off guard, his son’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”
“Because your mother asked me to come.” He nodded at the mantle. “That I needed to open a box that would appear at sunrise.”
“I was told the same,” Sven murmured, as his eyes went from Bjorn to the mantle. “To come open a box at sunrise.”
What was Katla up to?
Bjorn nodded, unsure of what to say. How to close the gap between him and his son. Were there even words? Could anything right the wrongs?
They eyed each other and said nothing. He felt Sven’s dragon within his mind. Curious. Eager to strengthen their connection. More than that, Sven himself wanted to. Bjorn sensed as much in the deepest part of his heart. Yet neither knew how to say everything they felt. How to conquer the hurt. The long years. The missed moments they might have shared.
They were equally lost despite how far they had come.
So both kept an eye on the mantle and waited.
The sky lightened.
Purple twilight ascended.
Then finally, at last, the first rays of sun crested over the mountain and hit the mantle. Like a mirage over the sea, an image started to waver. Soon enough it was solid.
A simple wooden box.
Bjorn gestured to it. “Open it, Son.”
Sven clenched his jaw and eyed Bjorn for a moment before he picked up the box and said, “I am not your,” his voice lowered to a whisper as he opened it, “son.”
Bjorn’s chest tightened at its contents. It held five small wooden carvings. Ones he thought long gone. Two were dragons. Two were men. And one was of men and dragons together.
Caught in the power of Katla’s magic, the room swirled away, and a memory unfolded around them. It had taken place a mere fortnight before Katla fled. He and his son sat in their cottage at the Fortress. Bjorn held little Sven on his knee.
“I want to grow up to be just like you, Father,” Sven said, his eyes wide as he made a fist. “I want to be a fierce Viking and a powerful dragon.”
“Then you shall be.” Bjorn leaned over and rummaged through a box of wood until he handed Sven a piece and kept one for himself. “I will carve a fierce Viking to your liking, and you will do the same of me.” He pressed a small dagger into his hand. “Then I will give you another piece of wood, and we will do the same of each other's powerful dragons, yes?”
This was one of many times Bjorn had hoped Sven might finally become inspired to embrace his dragon. That he would push past whatever held him back.
Sven smiled as he took the knife. “Yes.” His eyes flickered with sadness. “But how will you carve my dragon when you do not know what it looks like?”
“I will have to imagine, will I not?” he replied softly.
Sven nodded, sad. “So it seems.”
“But I have a very good imagination,” Bjorn said, determined to take that look off Sven's face in spite of his desire to see his son shift. “And I know soon enough, you will embrace your dragon and prove my imagination correct.”
Sven looked hopeful as he nodded.
Bjorn smiled and continued. “Once we have completed our projects, we will see whose is the best.”
Sven’s eyes widened. “We will?”
“Yes,” Bjorn promised. “He who loses the contest will have to carve a masterpiece out of a fifth piece of wood.”
“What kind of masterpiece?” Sven asked, his eyes wider still.
“Something so grand and beautiful that their heart cannot be doubted,” Bjorn said solemnly. “Something that will let the other know how fierce they think them…how proud they are of them.”
Sven nodded. “This sounds good.” His smile lit up the room. “And I will win.”
“Yes,” Bjorn said. “But only if you try hard.”
Katla’s memory swirled away and left them standing where they had been, holding a box in her cottage. Not in the past but right here and now.
They looked at their carvings.
Two had been carved by Bjorn. Two by little Sven.
The first was a fierce Viking. Courageous and strong, it was how Bjorn envisioned his son someday. The second was also a fierce Viking. Ferocious and fearless, it was how Sven envisioned his father in battle. The third portrayed a powerful dragon. What Bjorn knew his son would eventually become. The fourth depicted a powerful dragon as well. Sven’s impressive take on his father.
Sven remained silent as he lifted the fifth and largest carving out then set aside the box.
“I never saw this,” he murmured as his eyes lingered on it.
Bjorn had spent long hours on the piece. A whole winter as he worked to get it perfect.
It portrayed two fierce Vikings standing side by side, shoulder to shoulder, father and son, as they thrust their blades in the air and released their powerful dragons. The serpentine bodies almost seemed to burst free from the men, their wings spread in relief.
They were free.
Free from everything and anything that might separate them.
“It is good,” Sven grunted, trying his best not to show emotion. “A very good carving.”
“I made it for you,” Bjorn said softly. “Because you won the contest.”
Sven's eyes lingered on the carving as he murmured, “A masterpiece so grand and beautiful that their heart cannot be doubted.” Sven’s eyes lifted to his as he repeated Bjorn’s words from long ago. “Something that will let the other know how fierce they think them…how proud they are of them.”
“Yes,” Bjorn said, hoping the look in his son’s eyes meant what he thought it did. “Because I am very proud of you. I was then, and I still am.” His eyes stayed with Sven’s. “I heard you calling to me those first few years and though I responded, though I tried to comfort you, you could not hear me. It is impossible to know why. Perhaps it had to do with your young drago
n protecting you from communicating with a father you might never see again. Or maybe it was my dragon punishing me for letting you go.”
Bjorn inhaled deeply and gripped Sven’s shoulder. “I am so sorry for everything that happened. Please forgive me. I love you and have missed you...very much.”
Sven eyed him as silence fell and a long moment stretched.
“Dear God, hug your son, Bjorn,” Samantha’s words whispered through his mind. “Before it’s too late.”
Not needing to be told twice, tired of worrying about how he would react, Bjorn did just that. He embraced Sven tightly, so damn happy to have him in his arms again. But would he stay? Would he reciprocate?
Sven didn’t make him wonder long before he returned the embrace, his one low word music to Bjorn’s ears.
“Father.”
Bjorn closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of his son, the feel of having his boy close again. “Son.”
“Bjorn, Sven?” Kjar appeared at the door. “Your king wants you. Heidrek requests your presence.”
They nodded and pulled away. Bjorn gestured at the box. “They belong to you.” His eyes swept over the cottage. “Everything here does.”
“I do not want any of this.” Sven eyed the cottage as well. “Mother was not happy here. This was but a sanctuary she found when the king did not want her in his bed.” His eyes fell to the box. “But I will take that.” His eyes met Bjorn’s, the man he was becoming so evident in his gaze. “And I will follow you, Father.”
“And I will follow you, Son,” Bjorn said. “We will walk as men, fly as dragons and fight together as Vikings, yes?”
Sven’s eyes flashed with pride. “Yes, I would like that.”
“Good.” Bjorn gripped his shoulder again. “Then let us go be with our new king as he welcomes your people as his.”
While he knew many would assemble, Bjorn had no idea just how many until they walked out the door. So many faces he recognized. Several villages had appeared, curious about what King Heidrek would do. Outside of Agnar’s warrior’s, they had only heard good things about him so were brave enough to come…to see.
As Bjorn and Sven joined him, Heidrek grew quiet. Cybil was nearby as was Samantha. A solid wall of support for whatever his cousin intended to announce. As soon as a hush fell over the crowd, Heidrek called out, “Most of you have heard of me and my king Naðr Véurr. And there can be no doubt all of you know that I have taken his position. That I am now king.” His eyes met those of many. “But unlike your former kings, those of our region do not pass bitterness and evil onto our successors. We do not promote tyranny and hardship.”
Heidrek looked over the malnourished crowd, the disbelieving eyes, and said, “Today marks a change in all of your lives. A day where over a decade of repression will come to an end.”
More and more people filtered forward as he spoke. Bjorn felt Heidrek’s magic. He knew he was spreading his word far and wide. But what his cousin said next truly caught him unaware.
“I do not believe in forcing people to follow a leader they do not like. So I will let you cast a vote. I will let you speak.” His eyes covered everyone. “Give me a name. Tell me who you would like to lead and protect you…just one name.”
Silence fell as the people remained unsure.
“One name,” Heidrek repeated. “And if there is another, then say it. Share.” His eyes swept over the crowd. “Tell me who you want to be your leader.”
Silence fell again until a soft voice somewhere in the crowd said, “Bjorn.” A rumble went through the crowd before more and more voices started to repeat his name. Humbled, unable to keep up with looks of thanks, he lowered his eyes as people started to say, “Bjorn Sigdir,” far and wide. Out beyond the furthest cottage through the forest.
A small smile met Heidrek’s lips before he put a hand up and silenced the crowd. “And do you know he is a Sigdir dragon? That he is my kin?”
Silence fell again before heads started nodding and sounds of agreement echoed through the crowd.
“Good.” Heidrek’s eyes went to the crown hanging on a post. All that was left of King Agnar. “When I heard of your king’s death and knew my cousin had defeated him, it was my every intention to make Bjorn earl. To make him leader of this region under my direction.”
People resumed nodding and cheering their agreement before Heidrek shook his head sharply and called out, “But I have reconsidered.”
Everyone fell silent as worry and confusion darkened their gazes.
Bjorn frowned as Heidrek took something from Cybil that looked a lot like a crown. In fact, it looked identical to the one he wore save the gems nestled in it were a different color. Where Heidrek’s were pale blue to match his eyes, the ones in the crown he held were a darker blue.
The color of Bjorn’s eyes.
“Your tribe has been around as long as mine,” Heidrek said to the villagers. “Your history and memories are just as long. Just as rich. And just as worthy of being preserved as my own clan’s.” His eyes met Bjorn’s though he continued to speak to the people. “I do not want Bjorn to become my earl and lead you.” His eyes turned back to the crowd, and his voice rose. “I want Bjorn Sigdir to become your king and lead you.”
There were no murmurs of dissent or rumbles of discontent from the crowd but a loud explosion of approval. Bjorn didn’t know what to say never mind feel. His eyes went to Samantha then to Sven. She smiled and nodded, whispering into his mind, “You got this, Bjorn. Don’t let them down.”
Samantha wasn’t concerned in the least about her part in this. She trusted him. She trusted that this felt right.
His eyes went to Sven because his opinion meant just as much. This was his tribe. The people he had grown up with. Sven’s eyes fell to the box, the memories within, before his gaze met Bjorn’s and he nodded his agreement. His pride in the decision.
Heidrek clutched Bjorn’s shoulder and met his eyes as his words entered his mind. “You have done well, Cousin. They love you.”
“So you knew,” Bjorn murmured. “All this time you knew I came here. That I cared for them.”
“Yes,” Heidrek said. “As did your father.” His cousin squeezed his shoulder. “And he is so proud of you, Bjorn. He has been for a very long time.”
Bjorn kept emotion at bay. “Is that why you are doing this? To make sure my father remains proud if he ever awakens?”
“No.” Heidrek looked over the crowd then back at him. “I am doing this because you earned it. Because you are every inch the king I am.”
“Kneel, Bjorn Sigdir,” Heidrek said aloud and pressed on his shoulder.
“Who will protect you?” Bjorn said into his mind as he knelt and looked up at Heidrek. “Nobody can protect you as I can. It is what I was trained to do.”
“That is right, nobody can protect me as well as you, Bjorn,” Heidrek said. “Someone who gave up his rightful position in our tribe so that I could take it. Someone who devoted his life to protecting me when most would have had a bitter heart.” His eyes held Bjorn’s. “You are as qualified to lead these people as I am our clan. And you are my closest friend. Now we will rule alongside each other. Now we will become kings together. There is safety in that, yes? Now we will protect each other.”
Bjorn heard the words Heidrek said aloud after that. The prestige he offered, and the roar of the people before the crown settled on his head. It felt strange. Different. Heavier than he expected...but welcomed.
“Get down, King Heidrek,” a warrior suddenly roared and dove at his cousin.
Bjorn had been so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t sensed trouble coming. Neither had Heidrek. Almost no one had. The crowd was frozen, their eyes on the horizon.
Time had slowed.
Just like before.
Just like when the enemy came and ended up battling his father.
“Maeva,” a deep voice roared as a massive black dragon swooped over.
“Oh, Maeva,” the enemy sang.
Bjorn tried to move fast in the otherworldly sluggishness, but it was impossible. Now he knew exactly what Vigdis meant when she told him, “Play by nigh, feel his frigh. Frolick by day and you will pay.”
It was daytime, and they were exposed. And nobody would pay or suffer more than Bjorn if he lost his mate. Damn Vigdis and the Seers’ Code of Ethics. Yet no matter how frustrated he was, he had no one to blame but himself. She had been very clear that something would go wrong if he was outside when the sun was up.
Helpless, he watched Samantha saunter forward, her eyes wide with pleasure as she welcomed the enemy.
Yet something had changed.
This time, it was different.
Though frozen, people were still aware of the dragon hovering over them. An enemy whose sole focus was Samantha.
“No,” she whispered.
“No,” Sven agreed as he stepped in front of her, protecting her.
Bjorn tried to get inside their minds. Tried to understand what was going on. But they were one step ahead of him, sensing something he could not. A split second later, he and Heidrek inhaled sharply and caught a new scent.
It was that moment, that singular inhale, that changed Bjorn’s life forever.
Nothing could stop him now. His need to protect was far too great. Releasing a mighty roar, he broke through the enemy’s magic and shifted into a dragon. The people fell back as he landed over Sven and Samantha.
And one more.
The enemy roared in rage and rained down fire, but it couldn’t touch his family…or his people. Finally able to move, men, women, and children dropped to the ground, but nothing hurt them. An unseen barrier had formed around everyone he cared about.
Everyone remained safe. Every last person.
Even their houses and wares were protected.
“I will be back!” the enemy roared into his mind. “This is not over!”
Then he said one last thing that chilled Bjorn’s blood. “And I will kill your children.”
As the smoke cleared and people came to their feet, he barely processed that a piece of metal had rolled against his talon. That a little girl had tried to give his crown back to him. All he could focus on was what Samantha and Sven had figured out moments before him.
Vengeance of a Viking (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors' Kin Book 2) Page 26
