The Viking's Consort (Clan Hakon Series Book 3)

by Quinn Loftis

  “Far from your best idea, Viking.” She huffed.

  “Don’t be so angry. You look like a feral cat that’s been dropped in a watering trough.”

  “That’s basically what I am! And just like the cat, I should claw your eyes out.”

  “Quit your bellyaching and help me undress, then I’ll let you return the favor.”

  “It’s not quite the same since you’ll be ready for it,” she grumbled but acquiesced.

  Twenty minutes later, both giggling and shivering to our core, Allete and I climbed from the water and dried ourselves with heavy furs Rainah, the clan’s non-magical healer, had left on the bank for us. The healer was a wise woman. Not only had she seen me carry Allete to the river and anticipated our need for the furs, but Rainah had also called out before approaching, ensuring she wouldn’t inadvertently see her new clan leader’s unsheathed longsword. Instinctively, she must have understood Allete hadn’t adapted to our custom of bathing, men and women, alongside one another without shame. Or perhaps she simply understood all women preferred their husband not be seen undressed, even for a moment. This was a lesson I’d learned the hard way after Allete had almost skinned me alive when she’d seen me bathing near Freya. Lesson learned.

  “Here.” I handed her my tunic. “You can’t wear your wet clothes, and that’ll be better than mere furs until we get back to the hut,” I explained. I couldn’t help my disappointment as her creamy breasts disappeared from view when she slipped it on. She took one of the drier furs, then draped it around her body. I took my own furs and wrapped them around my waist, picked up the rest of our clothes, and took Allete’s hand. “Let’s go get something to eat and then go to bed.”

  “You say that as if you’ll be sleeping in the same bed as me,” Allete said.

  Raising a single brow, I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. “You don’t like our bed? It took me all day to make that bed. Where will you sleep then?”

  She laughed. “Ha. No, I like it fine, and I’m sure I’ll sleep great it in it tonight. Only you won’t be in it with me.”

  Now it was my turn to chuckle. “You’ve come a long way under Freya’s tutelage, my love. Your fierceness, Princess, cannot be doubted. Even so, you’re not yet strong enough to kick the jarl of Clan Hakon out of his own bed.”

  “The jarl of Clan Hakon…is an arse.” She yanked her furs more tightly around herself before crossing her arms.

  “I won’t argue with you there. You’re right. Get over it, Princess. We’re sleeping in the same bed, and I will be holding you. You can be spitting mad while I do or you can enjoy my embrace. The choice is yours.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I won’t be mad anymore. But only because I know I will eventually get even.”

  “Whatever you need to tell yourself, beautiful.”

  Reaching up, she pinched the back of my arm. “Ow, damn it, woman,” I snarled.

  “Oh, did that hurt?” she asked, her eyes wide with childlike innocence.

  “You’re lucky your cute,” I said.

  “What happens when I get old and wrinkly?”

  I shrugged. “That depends. Lots of old and wrinkly things are still cute. If you’re old and wrinkly, but still cute, then nothing. But if you resemble an arthritic hairless cat, well…then you’ll get your bottom swatted every time you irk me.”

  Allete threw her head back, her laugh ringing out as we entered our hut. “You’re forgetting one thing, Jarl.”

  “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

  “You’ll be old and wrinkly, too. You’ll be so old you probably won’t be able to catch me, much less give me a swat on my bottom.”

  Unable to help myself, I tossed the clothes on the floor and then tackled my wife onto our bed. “You have a point. Perhaps I should just swat your bottom extra now in case I won’t be able to catch you in the future. You’re bound to do many things that get on my nerves, and I don’t want you to get off un-swatted if I’m unable to punish you properly.”

  “Are you trying to distract me?” Allete asked suddenly, her head tilting slightly.

  I’d wondered how long it would take her to catch on to my strategy.

  “The river was part of it, too, wasn’t it?” she asked.

  “I knew you’d be sore. I thought giving you something else to focus on would make it easier,” I confessed.

  Allete leaned up. Pressed a kiss to my lips. “How am I supposed to plot revenge when you say stuff like that?”

  “Don’t worry. You may feel fond of me, now, but I’m sure I’ll do something to anger you soon enough. As a matter of fact, I plan to do many things to annoy you, and I plan to keep doing them for an exceptionally long time.”

  She laughed, her eyes dancing with mischief and love. “You’re right. I shouldn’t even concern myself with it. Opportunities for revenge will be plentiful.”

  “Why don’t you put on something clean while I prepare us some food?”

  She nodded. “Then sleep.”

  “Together,” I reminded her with a light pat on her backside.

  “Always have to have the last word, don’t you?”

  “Always,” I said with a wink. After I stood, I tightened the fur on my waist. I went to the small kitchen to make my princess something to eat, hoping she wouldn’t already be snoring by the time I was done.

  “I’ve always heard that witches burn more fiercely than a normal person. I imagine it has something to do with the magic within them. I hope this is true. And I hope I’m the one who gets to strike the flint.”

  ~Dayna Auvray

  “Wake up, stupid girl.” The words were muffled as if the speaker were standing on the other side of a rock wall. A sound escaped my mouth—not quite a grunt, not quite a moan. Pain instantly assaulted my body. I guess I’m not dead.

  “Now!” I heard a thud, then felt something connect with the middle of my back, a boot no doubt. My body spasmed, recoiling away from the strike. I gasped, my eyes flying open.

  “Brant!” The word came out between tremors of pain. I heard laughter.

  “Sorry, Little Princess. No strong Vikings here to save you. Get up. Now. I won’t tell you again.”

  I lurched upward, trying to gain my footing. My head swam and pounded at the same time. Luckily, the trunk of a tree caught my body as I slumped sideways. The pain was so severe I couldn’t even rail against it. I wasn’t even able to curse the one who did this to me. I squeezed my eyes shut. Memories of the bolt of magic, that hideous beam of light striking my chest, came speeding back to me. Though my vision was blurry, I spotted Hilda’s lifeless body on the ground. I tried to turn, ready to spring upon Gisele and rip her throat out. But my limbs wouldn’t obey. I tried to scream, but it only came out as a rasp.

  More laughter. An iron grip seized my arm. “Walk,” Gisele commanded, roughly shoving me toward a worn path through the woods. My feet didn’t obey and I fell forward, barely able to get my arms out in front of me before my face collided with the ground.

  “Give me a break,” the witch said. “I’m not carrying you, Princess. Get up and walk…or you die right now.”

  “Kill me then,” I growled, struggling to my knees. I heard a muttered incantation, then more pain hit me out of nowhere. I screamed and writhed, flopping onto my back. My insides felt as if they were on fire. This was different from the magic that had knocked me unconscious. It was much, much worse. I’d give anything for the sweet release of unconsciousness now. I tried to scream, wail, and cry all at the same time.

  Gisele’s leering face appeared over me, blocking the sky and treetops from my view. “Maybe I’ll kill you, maybe I won’t,” she said. “But know this, if you don’t get up and walk, not only will I kill your sister, but I’ll also make sure she suffers for hours before she dies. Do you think this hurts, little girlie? This is nothing to the pain your sister will feel.”

  I growled, but I was in no position to argue. It took some effort, but I finally forced myself up and put one foot in front of the
other.

  “Very good,” the witch said. “Now be quiet and march.”

  I said nothing. It took all my effort to simply walk and breathe. Eventually, however, the pain of her magic dissipated and I was able to regain the power of speech.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Shut up,” she replied. “No questions. Now, you’re not in a position to try anything foolish right now, but you’ll regain your strength soon enough. Let me give you some advice, sweetie. The instant the thought of escape comes into your mind, the very first second you think it might be a good idea to try to get away, you take that thought captive and you grind it beneath your heel. You pretend it never entered your mind to begin with. Because you won’t be able to. Not only will you never get away, but if I have to expend any energy on making you behave, then I will also be very put out. And when I get put out, I have to take my frustrations out on someone. That someone won’t be you. Oh no.” She giggled. “That someone will be everyone you’ve ever loved. So, for their sakes, honey, please, let’s just get along, huh?”

  I didn’t know how to respond, because I had no doubt she spoke the truth. “Whatever,” I finally said.

  “You may be a spoiled little princess, but you’re not dumb. Just remember my words. You know what I can do.”

  I grunted. Apparently, she took that as acquiescence because she didn’t press the issue. I was grateful since I fully expected to receive another bolt of fire in the middle of my back at any second. Walking forward, slowly and steadily, I searched the surrounding woods with my peripheral vision, constantly aware of Gisele watching me from behind. I learned nothing. The path we walked upon was often used—that was clear—but the surrounding underbrush was thick. I couldn’t see any signs of life in the woods, not even the movement of a squirrel. Large oak trees dominated the forest. Their gnarled roots occasionally grew out into the path, making me have to focus hard on my steps lest I stumble.

  After an hour of walking, I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer. “You’re just going to leave Hilda in the woods?”

  “What does it matter?” Gisele said, still behind me. “She’s dead. I don’t care if the vultures feast on her corpse.”

  “Where is my sister?”

  “Hush,” she hissed.

  “It’s just a question. Maybe she’s dead. Maybe I don’t give a load of manure if you torture everyone I love because they’re already dead. Maybe I take off running into the woods just to see what happens.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “Are you sure you want to take that chance?” She cackled. “Now, shut up. I’m trying to think while I walk.”

  “I would advise against that particular pastime. From what I can tell, thinking isn’t exactly your best witchy skill. And doing it while walking? Pushing it a bit, don’t you think?” Probably not a great idea to piss off an already-pissed off witch. But I am Dayna Auvray, youngest sister to Allete, and a princess to the throne of England. Pissing off witches is in my blood. That made no sense, but it sounded good in my head.

  “Do you have any idea what I could do to you?” Gisele asked, menace dripping from her voice.

  “I bet if I continue to anger you, you will give me a very thorough explanation.” I was telling myself to shut up in my head. Really, I was. But my mouth just isn’t following orders. Call it a loss of sanity after seeing Hilda dead, but for some reason, I just couldn’t seem to stop provoking Gisele. Maybe it was my final act of rebellion before death. Or perhaps I was just an idiot.

  “If I tell you what happened to your sister, do you promise to shut your hole?” she asked. She couldn’t see me as I walked ahead of her, but my eyebrows rose. I expected more pain, not reasonable discourse.

  “I promise.” I would take anything I could get at this point.

  “Magnus took off with your sister,” she said.

  “Where?”

  “Don’t know, don’t care…at this point. But remember what I said. I can find them if I want. I can hurt her if I need to.”

  Again, I didn’t doubt her. “Are you sure they got away?”

  “Don’t be stupid. I didn’t follow them down to the coast, nor escort them onto Magnus’ ship to ensure they made it safely away. He carried off your pathetic sister. I don’t know what happened after that, you dullard.”

  “No need for insults,” I said.

  “You insulted me. I can insult you and your sister if I please. Be grateful that’s all I’m doing.”

  I went silent again. Did Allete realize Hilda was dead? I wondered. After witchy knocked me out, I had no idea what happened. I wasn’t sure if Allete was even really okay. For all I knew, Gisele was just blowing smoke over my ridiculously dirty dress.

  The woods on either side grew thicker, pressing in upon the path. Brambles began to pull at my clothing, slowing my pace as I tried to avoid their stinging thorns.

  “Move it,” Gisele growled.

  “I’m going,” I barked at the witch. Eventually, the dirt path became overgrown with leaves and weeds. The grass was broken and trampled in places, but no footprints could be seen. It soon disappeared altogether, and I stopped.

  “Keep going.”

  “There’s nowhere to go.”

  “Forward.”

  Huffing, I began pushing through the undergrowth. It was slow going. The brush became thicker and thicker. The brambles were unavoidable now, and I hissed each time one ripped at my flesh. I ground my teeth when I heard Gisele giggling behind me.

  “You’re a long way from your comfy feather bed now, huh, Princess?”

  I ignored her, trying to show the witch her words had no effect on me. Teeth gritted, I continued to clamber through the woods.

  “Good strategy, Princess. Keep your foul mouth shut.”

  This pace went on for another half hour. Eventually, we came to a wall of shrubbery I didn’t think we’d be able to pass through. I stopped, searching for a crack in the foliage while expecting a shove in the back. Instead, I heard muttering. Suddenly, the bushes parted, revealing a small clearing. Then the shove came. Gisele pushed me through the crack, and I lurched forward into the clearing. I heard a rustling and groaning, then turned to see the gap in the bushes close behind us.

  In the middle of the clearing, a ramshackle cottage was squeezed between two giant oak trees. Upon closer inspection, I couldn’t tell where the building ended and the trees began. Moss hung from the branches, weaving itself into the slats of the roof. The door was nothing but rough wooden planks nailed together horizontally, and wide dark cracks could be seen through the slats. A tumble of loosely packed flat stones served as a chimney. Two grimy windows adorned the front of the shack.

  “Inside,” Gisele commanded when we reached the door to the cottage. I noticed it had no doorknob. Instead, there was a long bone, a femur perhaps, nailed to the door, posing as a handle.

  “I’m not touching that,” I said.

  “Psh.” Gisele grabbed the bone and yanked open the door, shoving me inside at the same time. I stopped after one step. The room was dim, packed with shapes and shadows. Two pale slivers of sunlight fought their way through the pair of grime-covered windows. The illumination they provided did little to dispel the darkness. Another shove caused me to stumble forward. I put out my hands, praying they wouldn’t connect with anything. Thankfully, I didn’t collide with any hidden dangers before I regained my balance.

  I heard a match being struck, then golden light filled the room. Gisele placed an oil lamp on a rickety dining table. Before I had time to survey the room, she grabbed my arm and steered me toward a filthy mattress on the floor.

  “Sit. Don’t move,” she ordered. I yanked my arm free of her grip, but I did as I was told.

  “Your hospitality leaves something to be desired,” I said, staring daggers at the woman.

  “How’s this for hospitality?” Muttering something unintelligible, she thrust her outstretched palm in my direction. The fire came again. I fell onto the mattress, writhing in agony
. It only lasted for a few seconds, but it was more than enough. My breath came in ragged gasps as I stared up at her. “That’s a little reminder of what I can do to your sister. You sit there. Do not move. That is your only warning. If I get so much as a weird feeling you’re plotting something…” She moved to a glass-jar cluttered shelf. Gisele picked one up, and I saw an oversized toad hopping around inside it. She unscrewed the lid, reached in, and pulled the animal out.

  After seeing her murder my friend and torture me in countless ways, I didn’t think the witch could surprise me. I was wrong. She placed the head of the toad in her mouth, then chomped down on it.

  The last thing I had eaten was a piece of stale bread aboard Magnus’ longship. The bread might’ve stayed down if the witch had simply bitten the frog’s head off. Instead, she pulled the poor animal away from her mouth, leaving the entrails stretched out until there was a pop and they flopped down on her chin. There was a slurping sound when Gisele sucked the toad’s innards into her mouth. I puked all over the rough wooden floor of the cottage.

  Gisele tossed the remainder of the amphibian into the middle of my vomit pool. She squatted, then grabbed a fistful of my hair. I trembled under her grasp. “If you so much as think of escaping, you’ll be wishing you were this toad.”

  She released me, stood, and turned her back on me, apparently satisfied she’d made her point.

  “Some might believe that it’s great to be king. Those would be the fools who don’t realize being in control of the lives of others is a curse, not a blessing.”

  ~Torben

  I spied the hulking warrior loping toward the training fields, his oversized war hammer gripped in both hands. Even from this distance, the heavy stride of his gait, the hunch of his shoulders, the whiteness of his knuckles on the hammer haft, gave me a clear indication he was in no mood to receive the order I was about to give. Brant was dangerous at the best of times. Now, he was like a bull kept too long in a small corral next to a herd of cows. It wouldn’t be wise to get in his way. I could tell he was on his way to take out his frustrations on a few of his sparring partners.