Viking Heart (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors Book 3)
Page 17
By the time Kjar came out, he had a sword to Raknar’s back, eyes dangerous as they flickered between Naðr and Kol. “Follow me.”
The brothers all teetered between ripping him to pieces and complying because a part of their mind still knew what was best. None said a word as the demi-god tossed them each a skin of ale and they plunked down in Kjar’s lodge.
Then they waited.
They could feel the heartbeat of the baby dragon and flexed their muscles against the binding magic Kjar held them with. If Kol was having a thousand fantasies about how he could kill the demi-god and even Veronica, then he could only imagine what Naðr was feeling. Worse than that, what was Raknar feeling? But he knew because his brother’s blood was part of him. His emotions were part of him.
And it was anyone’s worst nightmare.
Loving with all your heart but unable to see past the dragon, the pure need to protect blood. If Kjar didn’t keep Raknar away during this, he might very well kill everything that mattered most to him. He would destroy his true love, Veronica, to protect a child that might not even make it into this world.
Spitting nutshells, the shipwright’s eyes never left the brothers. Tensions remained high. Nobody said a word as snow and wind howled. They were all too busy fighting their dragons and Kjar’s magic.
It seemed like half the night went by before the red haze of his dragon started to lessen around the edges. Something had changed. Anxious, they sprang to their feet. Kjar, obviously taking no chances, kept a sword raised, eyes glowing as he barred them with his magic.
Head lowered, Raknar’s voice was low, tortured. “Can you feel Matthew’s heartbeat?”
Kol and Naðr put a hand on either of his shoulders and lowered their heads as well, tried to stem out their magic beyond Kjar’s grip.
But there was silence.
Nothing.
A tremor went through Raknar. It was taking everything he had not to shift into the dragon.
Suddenly, Kjar cocked his head and slowly but surely a smile crept onto his face. Moments later, his magic lifted. “Matthew has been born safely.”
“And Veronica?” Raknar said, still barely breathing.
“Alive and well.”
Tension unraveled and they smiled. The men embraced, laughed and clapped each another on the back before they headed for Raknar’s holding. Kara and another woman met them at the entrance. Her eyes went to Raknar. “She and the baby are doing well. They’re waiting for you all.”
Kara had always been gifted at delivering children, so he was grateful she’d been here. He squeezed her hand, kissed her cheek and murmured in her ear in passing. “Thank you for taking care of them.”
She nodded, smiled then stepped aside as the brothers and Kjar entered. Though a fire burned, the skins over the windows were pulled aside, allowing in an icy wind. Unlike a human child, little Matthew and by affiliation his mother, ran hotter than most.
The women sat on the bed and leaned against the headboard with Veronica in the middle holding the little one. Their teary eyes rose when the men came in. Amber and Megan stood so that Raknar could sit next to her. Naðr sat on the other side. It had been a long time since they had welcomed a child to the family and everyone was emotional.
Raknar kissed Veronica, concerned eyes flickering between her and the baby.
“We’re both fine,” she murmured and held out Matthew. “Would you like to hold him?”
Raknar nodded and took the baby. Deep emotion shone in his eyes as he brushed his finger over Matthew’s cheek. “Odin’s blessings, son. Welcome.” The men hung their heads as he said a prayer. “May great Thor protect you with his strong arm and mighty hammer, May the good Mother Holle hold and comfort you, and may all blessings be upon you, Small and Holy one.”
“Odin’s blessings,” the men said.
“God bless,” from the women.
Naðr held Veronica’s hand, a comforting gesture as he gazed with pride at the baby. “You did well, sister. He’s strong.” He reached across her and allowed the baby to grab his finger. The King chuckled. “Good grip. He will be a fierce warrior.”
“Yes he will,” Megan agreed, crouching next to Raknar. She eyed the baby then winked at Naðr. “But first, why don’t we teach him how to walk?”
The King grinned. “Then fly.”
“Easy killer,” Veronica said. “Mom’s not quite ready for that yet.”
Kol stared down at baby Matthew, completely captivated. Though he loved his niece and nephew, Meyla and Heidrek, with all his heart, he didn’t remember having such a profound reaction when they were born. But then he was considerably younger and far more concerned with women than babies, even if they were family.
No doubt sensing his emotions, Raknar’s eyes went to Kol and he stood. “Here, hold him, little brother.”
Kol shook his head, but it was too late. Raknar handed him over.
Instantly protective of the child, he held him carefully. While human children’s eye color often changed after a few months, dragon babies were born with the eye color they would have for life. He smiled as his eyes connected with Matthews. They were a pale bluish green, taking a little from both his mother and father’s eyes. Unlike his parents, however, his hair was dark. Black with bits of dark brown in it.
“Looks like he inherited his Uncle Kol’s hair,” Amber murmured as she stood next to him and gently brushed Matthew’s downy hair with her finger.
Kol smiled. Then his eyes caught hers and something shifted. The room seemed to fade away and all he could envision was what their child might look like. A little girl with Amber’s flashing brown eyes and saucy attitude. She’d have his aptitude with weapons and a way of looking at life born of both her parent’s spirits.
Amber would make a good mother. But what surprised him most was that he wanted her to be the mother of his child. Since when did he want children? But he did. With her.
She blinked a few times as if similar thoughts were going through her mind. Then she winced and pulled her hand away from Matthew. Torn from his reverie, he frowned. Amber tucked her hand into her dress and shook her head slightly when Heidrek appeared at the door.
Naðr and Raknar’s eyes flickered from Amber’s hidden hand to Heidrek.
“Let us give Raknar and his family some privacy,” Naðr said and stood.
Kol handed the baby back to Veronica as Raknar pulled Heidrek onto the bed between him and his wife. “Meet your new brother, son.”
Awed, smiling, Heidrek stared down at Matthew in fascination as they left.
“Come, join me and Megan for a celebratory drink in my holding,” Naðr said to Kol, Amber, and Kjar.
The king led them into the large room adjacent to his bedroom and they sat around a fire. Though Kol had felt the oddity, his concerns were confirmed when his brother crouched in front of Amber, his words gentle. “Let me see your hand.”
Amber glanced at the interlocked tattoos of the Web of Wyrd and Valknut on Kol’s shoulder before she slowly held out her hand.
“Oh damn,” Megan murmured, crouching beside Naðr. “The Web of Wyrd.” Her concerned eyes met Amber’s. “Oh honey, that must’ve hurt. This just happened when you touched the baby, didn’t it?”
Brows furrowed, Naðr was careful not to touch the new tattoo. “This is definitely the Web of Wyrd stave but the way it wraps up and around your wrist three times is strange.” He narrowed his eyes as he flipped her hand over and peered at the underside of her wrist. “And nine criss-crossed slashes trail down the end of it.”
“Three circles. Nine slashes,” Megan murmured and frowned. Then she whispered, “3:09.”
Amber pulled her hand away, expression uncomfortable. “Don’t say that.” She gritted her teeth. “This has nothing to do with Sean.” Her eyes went to Naðr, a little desperate. “Tonight’s a happy night. I thought we were gonna celebrate.”
Naðr made a motion with his hand and several mugs were brought over. She drank deeply when she was ha
nded one. Though the king and Megan returned to their chairs, they were by no means done with Amber.
Interestingly enough, though this was the day Kol had dreaded for so long, he couldn’t help but move his chair closer and pull her hand onto his lap. While he wasn’t quite ready to look at the tattoo, he couldn’t ignore the feeling of rightness and satisfaction that blew through him knowing it was there. A mark that meant this was without a doubt the woman the seers had chosen for him. But then had the gods not already made that clear when the cylinder appeared?
Still, for some reason, the tattoo meant more.
As to why it appeared on her wrist when her sister's tattoos had appeared on their shoulders remained a mystery. But he was curious what 309 meant and its connection to Sean. He could, however, add one thing to the conversation and maybe learn more. “The numbers three and nine are often seen in our culture. They are important.”
“They are, aren’t they,” Megan murmured, contemplative.
“Yes, the list is endless. Powerful numbers.” Kol shrugged. “Just off the top, Odin was one of three brothers. Odin also endured three hardships upon the World Tree in his quest for the runes: he hung himself, wounded himself with a spear and suffered from hunger and thirst. As to nine, where do I start? The Nine Worlds supported by Yggdrasil, the Tree of Life. When Odin sacrificed himself, he hung upon the gallows of Yggdrasil for nine days and nights. In return, he secured rúnar 'runes, secret knowledge'.” He quirked his lips at Kjar. “Then there are Heimdall’s nine mothers.”
Kjar snorted and shook his head.
“But most importantly,” Kol murmured and touched his tattoo, pointing out something nobody seemed to have caught. “The Valknut is three interlocking triangles forming nine points.”
Amber’s hand trembled slightly as she whispered, “Knot of the Slain.”
“But to be slain isn’t the end,” he assured, squeezing her hand gently, careful not to touch the tattoo. “It means you are a strong, brave warrior at the beginning of something new.” He worked at a grin. “Hopefully alongside Odin in Valhalla.”
For the first time, he allowed his eyes to fall to the tattoo wrapped around her wrist. It was delicate, feminine…creative.
Just like her.
When his eyes went to Naðr’s then Megan’s, he knew they were coming to the same conclusion as him. Kol met Amber’s eyes. “You sketch with this hand, yes?”
Her brows shot up as her lips turned down. “Yeah, so?”
“Such beautiful sketches,” he murmured, ensnared as always by her soulful eyes and guileless beauty. He circled a thumb in her palm and trailed a finger lightly up the silky skin of her inner wrist above her tattoo. Goosebumps rose on her flesh and her lips fell open. “And you draw images that often come to pass with this hand?”
Startled, her eyes shot to Megan. “You told him?”
“Kol’s one of my best friends,” Megan defended softly.
“I remember when Sean was your best friend,” Amber whispered. She shook her head, pulled her hand away and sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. What I mean is I love that you guys are close but honestly, I really need some answers.” Her brows drew together and her eyes went to Kjar. “I haven’t asked because I assumed you all worked it out, but what did you say when Kol told you what I dreamt about you?”
Kol hid well a flinch as Kjar frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Naðr sighed and met Kol’s eyes before he looked at Kjar. “We were going to tell you eventually.”
Kjar’s eyes narrowed at Naðr. “Tell me what?”
Naðr explained the supposed dream Amber had and shrugged. But Kol didn’t miss the curious glint in the King’s eyes as he watched Kjar’s reaction closely.
Kol had never quite seen the look that flashed in the demi-god’s eyes. It was a mix of betrayal, curiosity and something else. “It is a rare day that you do not share with me, my King.”
“And it is an equally rare day that you do not share with me, shipwright.” Naðr’s eyes narrowed. “But now that we’re getting everything out in the open and I see as clearly as you that Amber was touched by the gods at birth, tell me why it is you communicate with the Unnamed One without my knowledge.”
Kol ground his teeth. He and his brothers had talked about Amber’s ‘dream’ at great length. Her description of the Unnamed One was too uncanny to brush it aside. Especially considering Amber’s gift of foresight through artistry and Kjar’s unusual interest in her. A sexual one at that. Though strange in itself, the demi-god had never lain with a woman, at least not one from their village. So to have him desire a woman meant for one of the brothers, one so very important to fulfilling the seer’s pact, made all of them curious.
Then again, Kol could well understand Kjar’s attraction to Amber. Just look at her. To be around her was about as good as it got. She adored men for who they were and had a way of making them feel special and handsome even if they were neither. That was a rarity and a quality that would always ensure men fell in love with her whether or not they knew it.
He frowned at his thoughts.
Had she done that to him?
Kol pushed the jarring contemplation aside and focused on the matter at hand. Because odd was odd and something wasn’t right with Kjar. He didn’t blame Amber for downing the entirety of her mug as the demi-god and king eyed one another.
“It seems, my King, that we will have to speak of this later." Kjar's eyes narrowed even further. “And it best be later. Not in front of current company. Or all that you hope to accomplish may very well not happen.”
Kol and Naðr had a split second to ponder what he meant before the last two people they expected to see entered.
Helga and the Unnamed One.
Chapter Thirteen
Amber had never been more grateful than when she received another cup of mead. While it was one thing to draw things that came to pass, it was another entirely to see the figure she supposedly dreamt about walk into the room. Yet there it was…no, there she was, because as Amber surmised when she saw the slight figure in Kjar’s room, the Unnamed One was definitely a woman.
The seers from Mt. Galdhøpiggen had arrived.
The seers responsible for bringing together her and her sisters with the Sigdir brothers.
As she clearly intended, the beautiful blond who could only be Helga took center stage as she sauntered in, eyes sweeping over everyone before landing on Naðr. “My King, congratulations on your newest dragon.”
Though Naðr, Megan, and Kol stood, Amber decided not to. Something about standing for Helga didn’t feel right. And it had nothing to do with the fact that she’d slept with Kol. Amber would never fault a woman for that. No, it had more do with his implications about the seer's nature because now that she was in the same room with her, Amber definitely got the feeling Helga was off.
Amber’s eyes went to the Unnamed One. She stood behind Helga with her head bent and face veiled, but Amber felt her repressed strength. There was a sense of honor there. Duty.
So why was she Helga’s puppet?
Or was she?
Chairs were brought forward and Helga sat between Kol and Kjar. The Unnamed One didn’t take a chair but sat by Helga’s feet, head bent, shaking what sounded like dice in her closed fist.
Bothered by it, Amber wanted to pull the Unnamed One up and invite her to sit beside her. She might be frightened by the secretive seer, but nobody should sit at another’s feet unless they wanted to. She frowned. Maybe the seer did want to.
Helga accepted a mug from a slave as her eyes roamed over everyone slowly, lingering on Kol before they landed on Amber. “So you are she who is meant for my Kol.”
Her Kol? How arrogant, not to mention presumptuous. Amber kept her words vague…and polite. “Nice to meet you. As to Kol? I have no idea. As you can imagine, this is all new to me.”
Megan interrupted to make unnecessary introductions, but she knew her big sister was just trying to pull Helga�
��s attention away from her. But the seer seemed to be having none of it as her gaze lingered on Amber. “I thought a woman meant for him would be tall and remarkable but you…” Helga licked her lips as though she meant to tempt Kol as she spoke. “You are so very much made of Middle Earth. Wholesome but…”
Helga let her words linger as she tilted up her chin and hooded her eyes.
Amber couldn’t help but chuckle. Just about everything in her wanted to say Kol must love wholesome based on the way he bent her over the rock earlier but instead she shrugged. “Yeah, I’m all Middle Earth and happy about it.” She grinned and winked. “It being a kick ass planet, or world, and all.”
If she wasn’t mistaken, the Unnamed One paused slightly in the shaking of her fist.
Expression unchanged, Helga eyed Amber for another long moment before her eyes drifted to Kol. She didn’t have to say a thing at that point. Her look said everything as her appreciative gaze roamed down his body. A look that said she’d had him before and looked forward to having him again.
“Always a pleasure,” Naðr said tightly, interrupting Helga’s lewd appraisal. “But why are you here?”
Though it seemed about the last thing she wanted to do, Helga tore her gaze from Kol and met Naðr’s eyes. “Because war has arrived and I thought you might want our help once more.”
“King Rennir’s son then?”
“Yes, King Alrek. He has rallied his people well since my sister Yrsa’s passing and as you might have suspected, was given a great deal of her magic.”
“So I’ve heard.” Naðr eyed her. “The last I saw you we were on your mountain because it was the only place we could fight Yrsa.” His tone grew dry and eyes hard. “It was also a place of entrapment where you nearly made me forget my wife.”
Helga flicked an unseen bit of dust off her sleeve and arched her perfect eyebrows. “An unfortunate turn of events that worked out well in the end, yes?”
Naðr’s jaw clenched as he pulled Megan’s hand onto his lap. “Yes. One that will never be agreed to again.”