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

by Alaric Longward

  “What plan?”

  She leaned to me. “Let us deal with that. Look, even if we manage to kill this Regent, Balic will be there, outside the walls. What do you think will happen next?”

  We sat in silence, as I mulled over the issue. “Whatever happens, whatever they plan, we must stop them in Dagnar or Grimwing Pass. Balic is coming, and killing him would solve—”

  “Killing Balic? You are a constant optimist,” she chuckled. “Mad, some might call you.”

  “I’ll try to keep some of the optimism,” I said and grinned, and then I saw Gorth, who looked very worried as he walked the deck, shaking his head, as if he had just been told he was dying. “What are you planning?” I asked Quiss. “Seriously.”

  “I think I have a way to get in,” she said, with a sad smile. “We won’t enjoy it. Let me worry about it. Might not be possible, even. We’ll see.” She rubbed her face, and pushed me. “Let’s think about something else for a moment. I have to ask this. I fought the urge, but I have to know. Did she die easily?”

  She was thinking of her mother. After all the horror she had endured, she still cared. I nodded and lied. “She didn’t expect it. It was fast.”

  “Good,” she said, with a pleased voice, and smiled bravely. The ship lurched, and I held my belly. She poked me. “I assume greenish is not a jotun’s natural color. The sea?”

  “Hate it,” I said.

  “Balic? So, it went totally wrong?” She reached for a steaming cup of soup, with chunky bits of fish. I shook my head empathetically. I felt sick just to look at it. The waves were rocking the ship, not only up and down, but side to side as well, and it was impossible to guess which way it would rock next.

  She nodded, and moved aside the mug of soup. Instead, I clutched a warm goblet of something spicy, fiery, and alcoholic, and it made my head spin like no ale or mead ever had.

  I thumbed towards Aten. “It was a horrible mess. Balic came in, while I was mimicking Balic. Imagine the rest.”

  “The Butler?” she asked. “My friend?”

  “He died,” I murmured, feeling like a bastard for having forgotten him. “He was a good man. It was also fast.”

  She wiped tears, and took a shuddering breath. “None of the generals were—”

  “He killed the lot, just in case.”

  She smiled. “I told you. Lets hope the letters to the deputies caused some chaos, anyway,” she said softly, and squeezed my hand gratefully. “You put Tallo and Mother to rest.” She smiled. “And perhaps it did make a difference, in some small way. The troops might start to wonder what happened in the palace. Someone possibly saw it, and spread the word.”

  “Balic’s going to blame it all on me,” I said, with simmering rage. I hated the filthy draugr. “He’ll raise generals, if he must. Kills them, then raises them, and they ask no more questions.”

  Quiss was playing with a dagger, frowning. “Did you ask questions from Baduhanna? Your goddess must have been in Midgard since that ancient war, right? She’d know much what happened back then. Did she not tell you anything?”

  “No.” I said, with a sour frown. “She wanted me and Balissa both to stay in the South. Didn’t want us up there at all. Not even to fly her there. And she wanted the Black Grip, as I said. Can’t use it, but she wanted it.”

  “So, she knows something?”

  “She wanted the Book of the Past, as well,” I murmured, and tapped the bag. “Wanted to hide the truth. She must have had some idea of what Balic’s after. She was willing to sacrifice everyone to get up there with an army, but wouldn’t let us take to wing and get there early. Wanted to keep an eye on me, but that’s hard when I had just been stripped of my family job as royals, and when I could change shape.”

  She leaned close. “So, Balic’s scribbling might be ancient. They might have nothing to do with Mir. Your father, or grandfather trapped something there, during that old war. We’ll read the book when we can, but lets just assume that is so. And Balic hopes to release it. Balic needs an army to get to it, and he and Mir have been building their might over the decades, slowly, but they have the strength now. They had hoped to kill all you jotuns, take the land, and use its forces to break into Falgrin, and then do what they please. You messed up those plans. Baduhanna did. What they lack is a royal jotun. I’m worried for you.”

  “What could be hidden out there?” I wondered. “What could be called the Queen of the Draugr, if not Mir?”

  “Anything,” Quiss murmured softly. “Anything Hel threw in Midgard during that war. And she, I bet, had plenty of creatures to throw this way. And if your father used his spell to trap Baduhanna, then he had a good reason to trap whatever it is as well. He was with Hel?”

  “He was,” I said.

  “Then he trapped an ally, perhaps his … Queen?” she ventured.

  “Queen,” I whispered. “The true Queen of the Draugr. Something … terrible enough for Father to betray his oaths. Baduhanna fought him after, but Father, and Grandfather, did something for the common good, no matter what would happen later. I need to read the Book of the Past, indeed. That’s where Mir and Balic learnt his lore from.” My fingers caressed the outline of the ancient tome. “It’s all here. Balic must be furious. Now, we must defeat him and push him over.”

  We were quiet, until Quiss put a hand on mine. “We will find a way.”

  I nodded desperately. “We are so late in this game. They have plans, backup plans, schemes which are hidden under other schemes. They have all the pieces of the puzzle, except one. They lack a jotun, and that is that.”

  “They don’t have one, right?” Quiss asked. “No Ymirtoe.”

  I shook my head. “I hope they don’t have Balissa,” I said. “She was badly hurt. But, she wasn’t an Ymirtoe. I’m the only one left.” I froze with horror. “My kin!”

  “What?” Quiss asked.

  I grasped her hands. “If they don’t have me, and they are looking for another Ymirtoe jotun to raise in to a draugr, there is a way they might pull it off. I would have been the one, because Balic wanted to humiliate me for what I did. But, Father? He’d do. That is why Baduhanna was collapsing the crypts.”

  “She was?”

  “Yes.”

  “Didn’t this Mir take the corpses with her?” she asked, with a frown. “They might have your mother or father.”

  I rubbed my face with frustration. “No. Thrum, the dverg, buried his fallen with mine. He buried Morag. That was after Mir left.”

  “Why would Mir leave them behind?” she wondered. “It would make sense to take them with her, raise them, and—”

  I shook my head. “Balic said Mir has been a wretch, that he wants all of the honor of the coming events. He probably told Mir to leave the corpses and the Grip in Dagnar, before she marched north with Crec. Balic had hoped to stroll into the city, after it had been taken, raise a jotun himself, possibly me or Father, collect the Grip, and then he would have followed Mir to a freshly butchered city in Falgrin. He basically wanted Mir to do the hard work, leave the loot, and then get out of the way as he reaped the harvest. Their rivalry works for us.”

  Quiss nodded. “But, things went wrong, and now, he has to take the city for the bodies, though he has the Grip. He has Hilan in his pocket, as well.” She poked me. “I see he has to take Dagnar then. He probably would have anyway, for his pride. He thought he’d have you, after all. We must deny him the city and your kin. And you! While we save Baduhanna.”

  “Yes,” I said. “All of that.” I touched the Book of the Past. “I wish I had time to look into this a bit more.”

  “No time,” Quiss said. “Are there truly no armies left in Dagnar?” she asked, and shivered as wave spattered freezing water over us. I offered her a blanket from the side, but she waved it off. “No, you keep it. I’m used to—”

  “I’m a frost giant,” I muttered, but decided she was tougher than I was. “No armies.”

  “The people,” she said. “Is the city evacuated?”


  “What? No, the city was filled with people. Baduhanna thought it would keep the enemy busy.”

  She gave me a tentative smile. “Well, then you do have an army.”

  “What?”

  “A militia, at least. The people can fight,” she said simply. “There are tens of thousands, right? Hundred thousand or more in Fiirant? Same in Alantia? I don’t know, but I do know that if you arm them, stand them on the wall, give them a cause, they’ll fight.”

  “Will they?” I asked. “And if they will, they will die.”

  “Manu, if not most will,” she said with a sad smile. “But, if they die without a fight, their deaths mean nothing. It’s too late to get them out, right? And you need an army to beat Balic’s plans. Balic has over thirty thousand warriors coming this way. You have as many, more, if they are willing to die for you and Red Midgard. It’s just a matter of trying.”

  “I—” I began, and realized she was right.

  She grinned gently, clapped a hand on mine, and yelled something to the Captain, who nodded and spoke to someone behind him. The ship steadied a bit. I noticed the Hammer Legionnaires were still staring at us with curiosity.

  “Sorry about them,” she said. “They think I’m sweet on you. Some are jealous.” She winked. “On a ship, few things are secret, and I know some are in love with me.”

  “Are you in love with some of them?” I asked, with a grin.

  “I love the crew,” she reflected. “And, perhaps, I had an affair or two, with men who are no longer here. But, no, I haven’t been in love before.” She raised an eyebrow, and looked shocked.

  Before.

  I blushed. “I was in love with Shaduril,” I said weakly.

  “That’s nice,” Quiss murmured dryly. “That was just what you should have said at that point. I see a jotun is no better in these matters than a man.” She sighed. “This Shaduril? Is she the love of your life?”

  “I’m married,” I chuckled and rubbed my face. “Married and taken, and to a goddess.”

  “Goddess,” she said. “You are a sack of trouble. Fooled by a draugr girl, married to cold goddess, and now, relying on a volatile princess. I should have left you to drown to save you some coming misery with girls. Would serve you right even now. Is this Shaduril in the city, do you think?”

  “I don’t know,” I told her. “But, I don’t think I love what she really was. Just what she could have been.”

  Quiss nodded, as I thought about it. Shaduril had sat on the beach, next to me. Before that, she had danced in the swells, and waved at me happily, shrieking with joy. And then, she had been sad, when I spoke of my feelings. The Callidorean Ocean had listened to us, as I made my awkward admission, and she had placed a hand on mine, promised something, but it was a dream. It had been like two people meeting on a beach, and time had allowed them to dream together, for a moment.

  She had died twenty years before.

  Shaduril had been party to the killing of my family.

  Lith had fooled us both, Mir had fooled me all of my life, and Balan, her father, had made it all possible, with his odd skills at tinkering with magical artifacts. Sorrowspinner was his doing. I pushed the ring gently, but it budged not. Her family was my bane.

  Quiss was right. It was an impossible tangle, which I should have untangled long before.

  And I could start right there.

  “I think,” I ventured, “I might have loved her with all my heart, if I had met her twenty years ago. I respect her, loved what I thought she had been, and perhaps, if things had changed, if she’d returned to life, I’d have loved her again with all my heart. But, she isn’t coming back. She’s a … dangerous friend.” I felt a lump in my throat. “And a friend she shall remain. Now, if she were to live again? I have new dreams now. I am … intrigued by someone else.”

  She grasped my hand, and I swear there was a disgusted groan from the legionnaires. One called out. “Make him do the fin-dance.”

  “Fin-dance?” I asked her.

  She chuckled, and looked at me with bright eyes. “A man proposed to me in the Golden City. A merchant, from Julica. Sold silk, all kinds of animals, and he was a handsome rogue. Turned out he was married at least to three others, in three other places.”

  I fondled the book, uncomfortable, and for some reason, a bit envious. “Married, eh?”

  She smiled wickedly. “I took a dim view, and so did the crew, and we stopped his ship not far from the city, and had him take a swim back.” She chuckled, and held a hand across her mouth, her eyes slits of mirth. “There was a shark in the water.”

  “Oh, shit.” I laughed. “That must have been uncomfortable.”

  “Wasn’t hungry, but he shat himself,” she laughed, “After he threw up. Or during, even. He was leaving a trail of waste, as he swam for the shore, and the fin was circling him all the time. I almost felt sorry for the bastard.”

  We had a good laugh. The ship rocked, and we nearly fell, but didn’t, clutching each other. “Sorry,” I said, as she righted herself, straightening her cloak and the chain mail under. She was wearing a new one, with a golden snake on front, made of richer links. On her belt, the fish and the ship symbol of Aten shone with dull, silvery brilliance.

  “Aten’s symbol would suit you well.” She winked. “That’s a job offer, if we survive this shitty trip. Won’t be likely.”

  “I’ve got my own kingdom, and I think it could use a steady hand like yours,” I answered.

  “How will Baduhanna react to that?” she asked, with slight worry. “A goddess! Is she, really? A goddess?”

  I smiled demurely. “Demi-goddess. She is the best looking woman I’ve ever seen.”

  “You bastard,” she murmured. “Rotten, tit-faced bastard.”

  I frowned at the language the pirate-princess was using, but she also winked, so I went on.

  “She might be upset,” I said. “I think the Aesir are calculative, but also dangerously passionate. I saw her kill a noble in terrible rage, but it might have been a calculated act, I don’t know. She promised me a kingdom, and claimed me, like she would a horse. She did it to gain a powerful fighter, to deny me to the enemy, and she did it for the dverg force, and to … simplify things. She knows passion, she knows joy, but love would make her weak. I’m not sure she loves. She makes too much sense, most of the time. And yet, she might surprise me, if I mentioned a princess of Aten in a … romantic way. We had better not mention this discussion to her for the time being.”

  She poked me. “You are handsome when you worry,” she said, with a smile.

  I heard some of the crew chuckling, others groaning, and tried to keep a straight face. I smiled at her fondly. She was a brilliantly terrific ally, and the one crumb of luck the wicked gods had thrown my way.

  “Come,” she said, with an alluring smile. “You need proper gear. In my cabin. We need to prepare. If my plan works, you need new armor.”

  I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I was willing to risk it. And then, the fortunes proved fickle, indeed.

  Someone yelled something. The men in the ship surged up.

  She turned her head towards Gorth. “Shit. Already? The plan is working.”

  “What?” I asked. “What plan?”

  “The plan to get into Dagnar,” she answered.

  “Ship!” yelled a man from the gallery’s mast. “Ship approaching! Galley! They have changed their patrol route!”

  I jumped up, and turned to look about. I gazed up at the man, and saw him pointing a finger behind.

  It had a fierce painting of a hawk on the flag, and I knew the ship was from Dagnar.

  It was the Widow’s Dream.

  CHAPTER 15

  It cut a swift, deadly swath through the sea after us. It was a heavier ship than ours, better manned, at least hundred to our seventy, and they were determined to grab a light scout galley for breakfast. Two black flags fluttered on the after deck of the Dagnar’s ship, and a tall, wide-shouldered man stood there, leaning on
a railing.

  Captain Muntos.

  Two scorpions, huge crossbows manned by three men, were readied in the bow, and we were in trouble.

  “How will this get us into Dagnar?” I yelled at Quiss.

  “We have to take it,” she said simply, as her men rushed about holes in the deck, pulling out gear I didn’t recognize.

  “Take it?”

  She nodded. “Lift it, Rag! You lazy, tit staring, mound of trouble! Move it!” Quiss was screaming at a huge man hauling out sack of rattling gear. She added expletives, which would have made a drunken pirate wince.

  The rovers were pulling; all thirty of them, and the forty Aten Legionnaires were rushing about like madmen, some stopping to gauge the Widow’s speed. There were weapons along the deck, and a crate two men were holding still. They handled the thing like mother would a baby. There was a small catapult in front, one mounted on a turning platform. Men were hoisting huge shields, which they fixed over the rovers, and I jumped out of the way, as a scorpion, seemingly assembled in moments, appeared where we had just been sitting. I noticed it was also set on a platform. Ammunitions for both artillery pieces were being dragged thought the deck from the cabin.

  The bearded beast, Gorth, took over, and Quiss pulled me by my sleeve for the cabin under the afterdeck, where door slammed open and closed. “We need to get you presentable for our uninvited guests. Sorry, I expected them a bit later. They usually patrol closer to shore.” She gave me an apprising eye. “You will fight, right? They won’t listen to explanations, and I think your words are not all that weighty in Dagnar these days? I doubt they will give us the ship if we ask nicely, eh?”

  “Fight it? It’s a damned large ship. Hawk’s Talon had but few left, and that’s the best one. We should outrun—”

  “Won’t happen, dear,” she said, and kicked open the door. “Will you stay here like a woman, or fight?” She blew a lock of blonde hair off her face.