The Queen of the Draugr: Stories of the Nine Worlds (Thief of Midgard - a dark fantasy action adventure Book 2)

by Alaric Longward

  Her eyes went to slits. “She made a good guess,” she answered. “She is gifted, eh?”

  “Who will take care of the city?” I asked impatiently.

  She smiled. “I don’t know yet. But, you will defend Dansar’s Grave. And whoever is in charge will help you. But do not worry.” She gave me a smile. “Hilan will not be in charge. Alone, at least.”

  I turned and walked off before she could say another word, and Thrum followed me. I went to find Sand. “If she asks, tell her I’m going to get drunk,” I growled at Thrum.

  Thrum snorted. “Sometimes, Danegell, you do sound like a real king.”

  I nodded. “I think I’ll take your advice. About the skulls.”

  “Huh?” he asked after me, as I changed my face to that of an old man with a servant’s tunic. I walked off the Tower, and sent word to Sand to meet me in the Harbor.

  Hilan might be made the Queen the next day.

  But, she’d be dead that night. I’d kill her. Before that, I’d feast, and my father’s bed would remain empty.

  CHAPTER 5

  The Horned Brewery, the best outdoor eatery in the Harbor, was recovering from the battle, and people were discussing the various happenings in the city with a nervous air. I sat uneasily at the feast I had set up. It was a somber, odd occasion. It was, even when I had been surprised by Sand, who had brought Shaduril with her. She had returned, and now Sand and Shaduril, both draugr, were seated in front of me, and I scowled as Sand’s bread, filled with oily fish and fat cheese, sat on the plate, untouched. Shaduril was frowning, not saying much. She had been out of sorts since the battle, anyway, but now she was especially worried. A waitress was looking at us with anxiety, evidently concerned we were unhappy with the fare, and she didn’t budge, ever ready to make us all happy, but unable to.

  I turned to look at Shaduril, who was petite and blonde, beautiful as the Lifegiver, but she was looking away from me, and I guessed she was perpetually upset with me.

  Over Baduhanna.

  The dead were driven by their goals, their conflicting feelings, unable to abandon their hopes and wishes, unable to reason, and only a higher ranked draugr could force them to act different from those wishes. She had loved me. And I had married Baduhanna. Or rather, I had been force married, but that didn’t matter to the dead.

  I had loved Shaduril. I had made her cold, lifeless heart love me. And then Baduhanna had married me, and the dislike between the females was mutual. She and Sand were dangerous. Mir could force them to abandon our cause. Gods knew if Balic could. Or his kings and queens. Probably they all could.

  But, for now they would help me deal with my problem, like I helped them when they needed help. We were friends, at least.

  Sand was as unhappy as she was. He frowned at his drink, rich, golden ale set before him. He reached for the bread, poking it as if he was touching a pile of turds.

  “Can you taste anything?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “I can, but it’s not … exciting. It’s not fulfilling. It’s strange, this unlife.”

  “You do not feed at all?” I asked him.

  “We feed on schemes,” Shaduril said, staring at the waitress, who looked down, but didn’t move away.

  “Speak softly,” I said, frowning at the waitress. “We need no trouble. Though we will seek it.”

  “Seek it?” Sand asked.

  “First, Shaduril—”

  Sand turned his head at Shaduril with a squint. “Did you find anything?” he asked for me. “Treasure?”

  Treasure. He probably wanted any she might have found.

  “I found plenty,” she answered, toying with her mug.

  “What did you find?” I asked Shaduril. Gods, let there be the Book of Past.

  She nodded, as she knew what I truly wanted. “The Book is here with me, and the artifacts are all stacked on the table of the dverg room. I gave them to this dverg called Narag. He stacked them in that room, and no, I didn’t see how to enter it. Do not worry.”

  “And everything went well?” I asked her.

  She shrugged. “Yes. Up until I came back. It was all good, before…” She shrugged and pointed a finger up the hill. “They are sealing the Tenginell House.”

  I blinked. “Our graveyard?”

  “Baduhanna has men, not dverger, sealing all the doorways to the street. It’s not connected to the Old City, but they actually are collapsing walls and ceilings to block your dead kin below.”

  I felt such rage I could barely contain it. I clutched the goblet before me, and it bent into a shapeless mass of ale-sodden metal. I breathed hard, and Sand was shaking his head, warning me.

  The waitress was looking away, frowning with worry, and I calmed myself.

  “Why?” I asked her.

  “Baduhanna is not in speaking terms with me,” she answered spitefully. “But, there is no getting in there. They are tearing it down over the crypt.”

  I’d have to know why my father’s grave had been sealed, but not that night. I tried to calm my voice and changed the subject. “You said you had trouble in the city?”

  “Minor,” she answered and would not elaborate.

  “Anything useful in the trove of the artifacts you found?” I asked her.

  “I’m no expert,” she said uncertainly. “Rings, jewelry. Nothing like the Lark or the Black Grip.” She nodded at the hand that looked normal, but held the magical gauntlet. “There are dozens and dozens, and some will be dangerous. Many plate armors of ancient make, and weapons I left there. I took what I could carry, and the dverger carried out some of the better weapons. But, remember, one has to experiment to use the items. There is no telling what Father’s … Balan’s done with them. Remember his door?”

  Indeed, his door had had a magical trap, which had killed one of the few living guards in the Crimson Apex.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “There were some notes,” she said. “I left them with the bag of artifacts. But, I have the Book.”

  I resisted asking for it immediately. I eyed the leather bag on her side, and knew there could be many an answer to my dilemmas. Perhaps there would be plenty of information on the crimes of the noble families of the past. Enough to smear even Hilan.

  And, ultimately, the answer to Baduhanna’s secret.

  But right then, I only thought of Hilan Helstrom. I could take her a prisoner. Shut her in that dverg room? For how long? Forever?

  No, I’d kill her, I decided. She’d be trouble if left alive.

  Just like that, I’d snuff a life. Morag would have. In order to kill her, I’d have to kill an important part of Maskan. The innocence. Would it be just? Was she not guilty of lies, trying to capture a throne that wasn’t hers?

  Perhaps she was just guilty of greed. Thrum would snort in disgust, I thought.

  I rubbed my face, not sure I could go through with it. Sand could. But, would it not be the same as killing her myself?

  “How is it going?” Shaduril asked, seeing my struggle. “Mother still marching for north?”

  I nodded, thankful for the interruption. “As far as we know, they will be in Heart Hold in five days and gods know when they begin their war on Falgrin and Ygrin,” I answered. “Or whatever it is they are planning on doing. As for the rest?” I shrugged and cursed under my breath. “I’m apparently not allowed to be a king unless I earn it. And likely I’d have to move the Blight to earn such respect.”

  “We heard,” Sand said, amused. “What did her highness tell you?”

  “That she needs the army, and she needs it tomorrow. She’ll need my vassals, my Iron Grip, a jotun in her bed, and the commoners can go to Hel,” I spat.

  Sand stared at me with a frown. “The city?”

  “She will leave it to its own devices,” I said.

  “Did you agree?” Shaduril asked with an equally dour expression. “She is not good for you. I hate her.” She did. I could see it on her face.

  “She’s not good for these people, and as
for me? She and I …” I began, and shook my head, not sure I wanted to share my complicated feelings for Baduhanna with Shaduril. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You just licked her toes, eh?” Sand chortled. “At least she seems clean. Not the worst toes you could lick.”

  “I said nothing,” I ground out, “because I needed to think about it.”

  Sand grunted. “Hilan looks like she intends to rule. Baduhanna said she wouldn’t. Not now, at least. After the war? She has a case.”

  I glared at him. “You think she would support your guild in the shadows?”

  “Will Baduhanna?” Sand growled. “If the war is ever won, she will slay us. Just in case.”

  I began to refute him, and scowled. Baduhanna would. I shook my shoulders and massaged them. “I’ll not let her.”

  “You will have no choice,” Sand laughed. “The war will go on forever, though. It will be impossible to end it quickly. We are scrambling under their treachery, and they are ten steps ahead, Maskan. Far, far ahead, with armies in the middle of our lands”

  “They are,” Shaduril agreed. “But, at least Lith won’t see the end, no matter what it is.” She seemed immensely pleased by the thought, and smiled dreamily. She flexed the hand Sand had once cut off, the dead bone and flesh grown back under the illusion.

  They were hard to kill, requiring massive damage, but Baduhanna would have no issue slaying them, I decided.

  “What,” Shaduril said, “will you do? I see you are struggling with something.” She hesitated. “I think I have a solution, if you will hear it.”

  I nodded. “I’m happy to hear suggestions. But before that, I suppose I will have to be patient.”

  “Bah,” Sand said darkly.

  “I’ll be patient, and wait for Balissa to arrive,” I growled and emptied another tankard of ale. “And when she arrives, we will have to kill all the damned Helstroms in the city.”

  Sand’s undead eyes finally lit up. Shaduril straightened, and she was grinning. Both finally looked festive. Sand leaned closer to me. “You will actually murder the wench? Guess what? I was going to suggest we should do just that.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but Shaduril beat me to it. “I like it. A great idea. Of course it is, since it was mine as well. In fact,” she said and eyed the waitress, who looked away, “I wish you were more decisive, love.”

  “Yes,” I answered simply.

  Shaduril touched my hand. Hers was cold as ice. “I would have argued for it. It’s time you find your foes, and act. This night.”

  I nodded.

  Shaduril smiled at me. “I’ve been watching you grow from an idiot pickpocket into a fighter, but to see you plot to twist her neck in the night? I like it. If you want to—”

  “I don’t like it,” I said bitterly and waved her down. “But I’m not going to endure losing my legacy. Hilan is a danger to us all. She is Helstrom, and a power-hungry bitch. Perhaps she will betray us to her husband. Perhaps she cannot believe he is really a draugr. Perhaps—”

  Sand pushed me. “Stop talking. You don’t have it in you. You cannot do it. I can. I’ll do it for you. For a friend, eh? I’ll loot her place as well. And—”

  I pushed him back. “She’s my enemy. I’m the Beast of the North. I will snap her spine, because a king must do his own filthy work, occasionally.” The human in me cringed, and I kept smiling, and the two draugr were not convinced.

  Sand winked. “I’ll help you out.”

  A shadow fell on us. A woman, thin as a willow leaned over me, and Black Grip felt warm. Balissa, disguised, smiled.

  I nodded, and she sat down. She frowned a moment at the untouched tankards before Shaduril and Sand, the one I had crushed, and then shrugged, and pulled the dead one’s ales to herself, murmuring something about waste. She downed one, burped in a very unladylike way, and squinted at me. “I just left the Temple of the Tower.”

  I blinked. “I asked you to follow the bitch.”

  She downed the other tankard. “I did. She waited outside the walls, and came back to the Temple. She entered a room in the second level, and was served Castarian wine. The very best, mind you. Morag alone used to drink it, but now, it’s served to upstart humans. And she was not alone. Ban Valtair was there, keeping his distance from her.”

  I rubbed my face. “Baduhanna met her. And Ban.”

  “Baduhanna, the Aesir cow and your darling wife, met them,” she agreed. “But she mainly spoke to Hilan.”

  “What did they talk about?” I asked furiously.

  Balissa leaned closer. “I eavesdropped in the next room. I changed into a large rat, and heard every word. She was made the Regent of Red Midgard.”

  “Regent?” I asked, crushing another tankard.

  “Regent,” Balissa agreed. “Baduhanna leaves her in charge of the city, and most of her House will guard Dansar’s Grave and Ban’s Hillhold when they ride. You are apparently going to hold Dansar’s Grave with some of hers and Ban’s troops. Meaning you are basically under her command.” She smiled. “Ban is the general in charge. I think he is to keep an eye on her, and you. Hilan gets what she wants. Ban reminds her of her limits. Regent was happy, she was.”

  I dropped the ruined goblet, and forgot all about my reluctance for murder.

  “Well,” I said. “Did you follow her after? Where is she?”

  She nodded and toyed with the tankard. “You sure about this? Baduhanna’s plans cannot be delayed.”

  I scowled at her. “I’m her husband. She’ll suspect, but she’ll forgive me.”

  Balissa snorted. “Right. She’s had plenty of husbands who have upset her in the past, I bet.”

  “Kill her as well,” Shaduril said, almost to herself, but not quite.

  I scowled at her, and Balissa leaned forward. “That Aesir is our best chance to beat the enemy. If she falls, we are not only in trouble, we are dead. I don’t want to be a stinking corpse.” She flinched as she looked at the two dead ones, but seemingly decided they would not be upset by simple truth. She turned back to me. “Baduhanna needs the army. Why do you think she killed that Gath? She showed everyone she is above their laws and demands. She broke a man in full sight of everyone, glowing like a spirit of hate, and they all feared her. But, she didn’t slay Hilan. She needs her influence to gather all of the remaining Houses under her banner. Kill her, and she’ll be mighty pissed, and you are not safe, boy-king.”

  I smiled. “She’ll get the support still. What else can they do?”

  “She won’t be happy,” Balissa said.

  I nodded and smiled her darkly, feeling a blot on my soul as I kicked a sack under the table. It rattled. “Hammer Legion weapons. The new Regent and the Queen in the making is slain by the enemy this night. Baduhanna can rest easy.”

  “Her sons will inherit the claim to the kingdom, Maskan,” she answered. “She has two. Ikar, and some thick dolt. I remember not his name. Will you slay them as well?”

  I shrugged. “She is the great problem, Balissa. Will you aid your king or not? And why you do not tell me of Baduhanna’s quest in the north, is a mystery to me.”

  “Oaths,” she said softly. “I wasn’t there when Morag and your grandfather fought her up there. I was elsewhere. But they told me never to speak of the things I heard of, and I keep my word. Baduhanna is right to be afraid.”

  I scowled, and eyed Shaduril. Book of the Past would speak of all of it. I let her be, and lifted an eyebrow at her.

  She breathed deep, and nodded. “Fine. It’s something Morag might do, anyway.” She pushed me playfully. “You are almost like a jotun.”

  “Thrum seems to think so, too,” I said nervously. “Almost.”

  Shaduril nodded at my hand, where the Black Grip was hidden under my shapeshifter human hand. “She keeps staring at that. You mentioned she wants it?”

  “The Grip?” I said, flexing my hand. “It makes sense, I suppose. My father used its mighty spells to seal Baduhanna below the Tower of the Temple. She is
afraid of it. Hates it, no doubt. She wants it, but cannot use it.”

  “Who can?” Sand asked curiously, his eyes coveting the ancient thing of power.

  “Jotuns,” Balissa said. “But I think only Ymirtoes. His family.”

  Shaduril nodded, her face thoughtful. “She is afraid of it.”

  “She won’t tell me why,” I scoffed. I eyed the bag with the book, and wanted desperately o see it. “Tomorrow, she will want it.”

  Shaduril frowned. “You will need it tonight. Don’t give it away.”

  “Tomorrow,” I answered.

  Sand shrugged. “I guess we should make this night count, then.”

  I flexed my fist. “So where is the woman?”

  Balissa nodded up the hill. “The Helstroms have many mansions. She is living in Over Rock. That building up there.” She pointed a finger at a precariously built mansion.

  “That’s the one,” Shaduril agreed.

  While five tiers of white walls ringed the city, you could only enter Dagnar from the northeast, where the main gate stood. The Harbor and the west was sea-walled, the north and east sides were rocky climbs, which no one could scale. Dagnar climbed higher and higher up a hill, guarded by the walls and two gates each. The Helstrom’s mansion was build inside the First Tier, where the mighty walls ended in the east side to a sheer drop. A side of the mansion was actually the last part of the wall, much of it hanging precariously over the side of the city. It was a red roofed mansion, and not an overly massive building. Many nobles had far finer abodes, though the view was probably nearly as good as it was in the Tower of the Temple.

  Balissa rubbed her face. “They have dozen archers guarding it. Ax-men, professional soldiers. Hilan is very nervous.”

  Sand snorted. “She can taste her victory, and it terrified someone will steal it off her.” He winked, and for some reason, I thought of Taram, the evil one-time suitor of Shaduril, lover of Lith, and our nemesis. I had enjoyed ripping him apart.

  I pulled myself up and looked up to the house. Lifegiver’s rays were shining through a bank of ominously heavy clouds, as the great star was going under the horizon. “We use the roof,” I said.