by Quinn Loftis
“Not now,” I said. “I can’t. Please. Just don’t die.”
He was quiet for a few minutes before he finally said, “I have too much to live for now.”
“I wish Hilda were here. I wish someone else would verbally smack Freya when she gets ridiculous because I am getting exhausted.”
~Diary of Allete Auvray
“Freya, you cannot make the females from the other clans train with you,” I yelled as I hurried toward the shieldmaiden. The woman was apparently on an epic mission to weaponize every person able to give birth. According to Freya, ‘if you can push a child out of your body and bring it into this world, then you can stab a man and take one out.’
“With all due respect, Al, you do your thing and I’ll do mine,” Freya said. Stubbornly, she continued to try to force a short sword into the hands of a woman who looked like she wanted the earth to open and swallow her.
“With all due respect, Freya, but my job is to make sure you are doing your job without terrorizing innocent people.”
Freya scoffed. “I’m a Viking. Terrorizing people is literally what we do.”
I laughed. Though I’d only known Freya a brief time, I could already tell she wasn’t the type to be cruel just for the sake of being cruel. She could pretend all she wanted to, but Freya had a tender heart.
I addressed the woman in front of Freya. “Have you ever used a sword before?” I asked.
She shook her head, too petrified to even speak.
I pursed my lips at Freya. “She’d probably end up cutting off her own foot before she actually damaged the enemy.”
“Ugh,” Freya groaned. “I don’t think I’ve told you how much I loathe logic.”
“Everyone has a role,” I said. “And each role is just as important as the other. We need people to stay here to keep everything running smoothly until we get back. Encourage people to do what they are best at.”
The shieldmaiden sighed. “And that is why your role is queen.”
The other woman’s eyes widened, and she curtseyed. I shook my head. “None of that,” I said gently. “I am no more deserving of a bow than the next woman.”
Freya grinned at the woman. “She’s kick arse.”
“What’s your name?” I asked when she nodded at Freya and smiled.
“I’m Lanith,” she said in a soft voice.
Freya groaned. “You don’t even kill bugs, do you? There’s no way you kill anything with a tiny voice like that. Okay, fine, you don’t have to have a sword.”
Lanith appeared so relieved I nearly laughed, but I didn’t want her to think I was poking fun at her, so I held it back. “Thank you, Lanith. It’s nice to meet you. If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”
She nodded and curtseyed again. After which, her eyes widened and she mumbled an apology before scurrying off.
Freya chuckled. “She looked like she thought you’d use this sword on her for bowing again.”
I pointed my finger, giving her my sternest expression. “Stop terrifying the non-fighting women.”
“They’d feel better about themselves if they knew how to handle a sword, that’s all I’m saying.”
“How do you know they don’t feel good about themselves already?” I asked.
“Because no respectable woman could feel good about themselves if they can’t defend themselves and…” she drew out the word, “they shouldn’t be happy with only feeling good about themselves. They need to know how utterly kick arse they are. Until you feel that way about yourself, you have not lived up to your full potential.”
“Why is Freya discussing women’s inferiority complexes?” Torben asked. He was covered in sweat, which meant he must have been over in the sparring area working out.
Freya propped her hands on her hips, one still holding the sword, and glared at Torben. “I’m discussing it because it’s something that needs to be addressed.”
“Maybe,” Torben said. “But not right before we’re about to go to war with a diabolical madman.”
“What if he wasn’t a diabolical madman and we were going to war with him?” she asked. “Could I do it then?”
Torben glanced at me. “Do you see what I’ve had to deal with on my own?”
Freya rolled her eyes. “Don’t think your queen will sympathize with you. She’s a woman—her first loyalty is to her sex.”
Torben seemed as if he wanted to laugh, but Freya’s glare made it clear she might stab him with the sword she was holding. It kept him quiet.
“All right, I think that’s enough of that. Freya, you and I will go make sure that any woman who can fight—and wants to fight—has what they need.” I held up a finger to stop her from talking. “That does not include forcing a sword or axe into the hands of every person with breasts.”
“Fine, but next time we recruit other clans, we’re only going for the ones with women who aren’t afraid of their own shadow,” she huffed.
I rose on my tiptoes, then pressed a kiss to Torben’s cheek. “I’m going to go deal with that,” I said, gesturing at Freya. “How are things with the men?”
“Well, they aren’t trying to give swords to the farmers, so I’d say a bit better than with you.”
“Rub it in, why don’t you?” I playfully growled. Freya fidgeted, giving Torben the stink eye. “I better get her away from you. She’s looking stabby.” I took her empty hand to pull her away from her jarl. “Let’s go, warrior woman. There’s plenty for us to do before it’s time to start loading boats.”
I spent most of the day making sure everyone drank plenty of water, ate, and that Freya didn’t terrify more of the female population. When night finally came, I was exhausted.
We’d just finished the evening meal when Torben requested everyone gather down at the beach. A huge bonfire roared and the anticipation of battle ran throughout the group, making everyone a little giddy.
“When I was a boy, my mother told me there was no such thing as a ‘good’ person,” Torben began as everyone quieted and gave him their attention. “She said everyone had the capacity for good and the capacity for evil. That there are times when we are good and times when we are bad. The question she posed to me as a young boy when she explained this to me was ‘what kind of person do I want to be more often than not?’ Because our choices, and the actions that result from those choices, define who we are and who we will become. But I learned something else along the way. It’s not just our choices that define us, but the motivations behind those choices.
“Tomorrow, we will leave for Tara. When we arrive, we will take lives. Some of our lives will be taken as well. Taking a life should never be something that is easily done, whether it’s within the fog war or not. The lives we take are not taken out of a desire to grow more powerful. They are restitution for the lives taken from our clans and the damage King Cathal caused us. Examine your heart and the reason behind why you join us in this battle. Keep your own conscience clean, and make sure that you do this for the right reason.
“Now, I will yield the floor to my wife, our oracle and Clan Hakon’s queen.” Torben stepped aside, and I moved forward. He’d mentioned he wanted me to address everyone. Not going to lie, at first, I wanted to decline. But then I remembered all the times my mother addressed the kingdom along with my father. A united front gave strength and security to the people, and I wanted the clan to know I supported Torben’s decisions.
As I peered out at the faces regarding me, I saw many different things. Some pleaded for me to reassure them we would be victorious. Others asked if I had the strength to stand next to a man as formidable as my husband. And still others were filled with tears for the ones they’d already lost at the hands of Cathal and his men. My heart went out to them. I wished I could tell them I knew without a doubt we would be victorious, but only the gods knew the fate of our clans. Even with my prophecy, someone unknown variable could change what I’d seen. I wouldn’t lie to them no matter how much I wanted to reassure them.
&nbs
p; I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before I began to speak. “War is never easy. Even at my young age, I have seen the devastation it causes. Unfortunately, diplomacy does not always work. There are those in the world who only know how to communicate with violence. They take what they want without thought of how it will affect others. Power is their ultimate goal, and they don’t care who they crush on their way up.
“The only thing that will stop those kinds of tyrants are people who are willing to make sacrifices. Some of you know even better than me that nothing in life is easy. Nothing is simply handed to us. Even the air we breathe comes at a price because freedom isn’t free. Freedom from men like Cathal comes at the price of blood, lives, pain, and loss. This will not be the only battle we will face. This is simply one of many that will come in our lifetime.” I focused on the shieldmaidens gathered to my far right. Freya nodded her head, her fierce gaze burning into my own. She gave me a slight nod, and it felt good to know I had her support. Then, to my surprise, the shieldmaidens bowed their heads as one. I felt tears building in my eyes as their acceptance filled my heart.
“I’ve only been a part of Clan Hakon for a brief time, but I can tell you what I’ve seen and experienced with you makes me proud to be a member of this clan. I am honored to stand beside you all in battle. As our jarl has said, let’s do this for the right reasons. We will not lower ourselves to Cathal’s level. We will not let greed or a lust for power be what motivates us. We will stand on the side of good no matter the cost.”
“Are you with us?” Torben roared.
“We are with you!” Fists, weapons, and shouts raised into the air as one as the clans before us bellowed their agreement. The shieldmaidens began beating their shields with the hilts of their swords in a strong rhythm. Soon, everyone clapped or clanged a weapon to the beat. It was a war song, a battle cry, and a promise to our enemies that we were coming for them. We would not stand for the injustice that had been brought to our shores. We would not allow their actions to go unanswered.
The song of our people lasted long into the night until silence finally took over the village and beach where the other clans slept. But when it all finally died down and Torben and I were alone in our bed, I lifted up a prayer to the gods. “Let us be victorious. Let our victory serve as a message to anyone else who would seek to rise up and attack those weaker than them that we won’t go quietly into the night. Give us strength. Give us wisdom. Give us pure hearts so we are not corrupted by the world around us that so easily entangles. Also, give us the ability to forgive those who seek to be different from their past choices.”
I didn’t sleep much that night. My mind was too filled with worry, not only for my clan, but also for my sister as well. Not to mention, I dreaded the sea voyage. I was not made to be on a boat. I imagined Dayna was quite miserable herself.
“Sleep, my love,” Torben commanded when I shifted for the hundredth time. He tucked me closer to his body until, finally, his heartbeat lulled me into a deep slumber.
“I wonder how a child can grow up to be someone like Cathal. Did his mother or nursemaid drop him on his head? Was he deprived of affection and love until he suddenly just hated everyone and everything? Or was one of his parents a spawn of Hades, disguised as a human to trick their lover into sleeping with them? Whatever it was that caused it, I hope I don’t somehow cause my child to grow into such a nasty waste of space.”
~Dayna Auvray
“I’m just going to throw this out there,” I said as we followed behind Gisele, Evelyn, and Calder. Behind us were three guards tasked with ensuring we didn’t try to bolt. “I don’t think requesting an audience with the king of Tara is the smartest thing these three have ever done.”
“Do you ever hold your tongue?” Clay asked, shaking his head. In his defense, he was exhausted and that was the only reason I didn’t stick my tongue out at him or kick him in the shin… Well, that, and I wasn’t a child anymore.
We walked up the pathway that led to the castle walls of Cathal’s kingdom. It had not been a short trek from where we’d anchored just off the shore of Tara. The wind was cold and sliced against my skin. Oddly enough, Gisele hadn’t rebound our hands, so I was able to keep the blanket wrapped around me. It helped a little but not enough to keep my teeth from chattering.
“I’m just saying, Cathal is not a nice person. Do they honestly think they can just march in there and speak with him, and Cathal will just believe them because he’s a super trusting guy? No, no, they cannot,” I answered before the two males I ranted to could reply. “I can tell you what they should be thinking, however. They should be thinking, ‘hey, let’s not march up to this huge gate here because the king who lives here likely has archers who will probably shoot us on sight, or, worse, capture us and then roast us alive on a spit just for his amusement,’ because that is what he’s probably going to do. There’s a much better chance of that than him actually listening to these lunatics.”
“Dayna?”
“Yes, Brant.”
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.
“I am grand. I’ve been locked in a cage rocking back and forth on a boat for an undetermined number of days. I smell like a homeless tomcat with mange. I’m cold. I’m currently being held captive by a dark witch who used her magic to make me into a ridiculous idiot who befriended a rat. Not to mention I’m headed to see the man who terrorized my sister for a month. So, no, Brant, I am not feeling okay. I am feeling decidedly temperamental.”
“How is this different from any other day?” Clay asked.
Brant glared at the captain. “Quit goading her. That isn’t helping.”
Clay held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, it’s hard not to poke the angry cat when she poked me for so many years.”
“That’s fair,” I said.
Brant shook his head.
“What?” I asked. “I really did torture him over the years.”
“I’m happy to pass the torch to you, Brant,” Clay said, sounding much too amused.
When we reached the large gate that led into the castle grounds, Gisele, Evelyn, and Calder stopped and stared up at the guards who stood above the gate.
“State your identity and purpose for coming to Tara,” one called down.
“I am Calder, Jarl of Clan Thornag and brother of the man who took King Cathal’s future bride.”
“Who are your companions?” the guard asked.
“Two of them will confirm the information I have brought for King Cathal, and the three behind us are our prisoners,” Calder responded.
The two guards seemed to be conferring with each other when a third appeared. After the three spoke, the third one hurried off. I hoped Cathal would refuse to parley with my captors and just send us on our way, but I was pretty sure that wouldn’t happen. Especially when the guard told him who Calder professed himself to be. The king of Tara had been determined to have my sister as his bride and Magnus, Calder’s brother, had taken her away. Cathal would certainly want to speak with Calder.
About a quarter of an hour had passed when Gisele started grumbling about Cathal taking his sweet time, then muttered what sounded like a threat to remove the king’s innards one inch at a time.
“Doesn’t he know how damn cold it is?” Gisele snapped as she began to pace.
“Remember who you are speaking to when we get inside,” Calder said. “He has the power to have you killed.”
Gisele snorted. “He can try.”
The gate began to open, and I let out a groan. “Maybe we should hug and say our goodbyes, boys,” I said. “Because I don’t see Cathal letting us leave alive.”
“We aren’t going to die,” Brant said.
“Why? Because you will it?” I asked.
“Of course.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know that’s not how life works, right?”
Brant shrugged. “I find that when I want something to happen bad enough and I envision it hap
pening, it usually does.”
“I could take that so many places that would make Cook proud.” I sighed, my attention drawn to our captors as Gisele turned her glare on us.
She stalked over, pulling a strip of rope from her robes. “Hold out your hands,” she said to me.
“Do we really have to do this?” I asked.
Gisele laid the rope across my wrists, then snapped her fingers. The rope instantly stretched tight, binding my hands more securely than if Brant had used all his strength to tie the knots. “Just want you to remember you’re a prisoner, not a guest.”
“As if I need some rope to remind me,” I said dryly.
She did the same to Brant and Clay before rejoining Evelyn, Calder, and one of Cathal’s guards who’d come out of the open gate. “Follow me,” the guard said gruffly.
As we began to walk through the castle grounds, I quickly became unsettled. The usual hustle and bustle of castle life I was so used to back home was completely absent. There were no merchants going about their business selling ware, no children playing in the courtyard, no servants, guards, or courtiers walking to and fro. The palace was empty. “Where is everyone?” I muttered just loud enough for Brant and Clay to hear.
“This is an example of a kingdom ruled by fear,” Clay said. “People do not feel comfortable to be out and about. If they are hidden in their homes, then they aren’t in Cathal’s line of sight. They hope to be out of sight and out of mind, and thereby avoid his wrath.”
“What a terrible way to live,” I said. As we progressed through the grounds, I noticed a few people peeping out of cracked doors and shutters. Their eyes were guarded, their faces tense.
“Hurry up,” a guard growled behind me, shoving me in the back. I’d apparently slowed my pace as I stared at my surroundings.
“Don’t touch her,” Brant snarled, taking a menacing step toward the pushy guard.
I moved in front of Brant to keep him from getting closer to the man, not wanting the overzealous guard to have a reason to use my Viking as a pin cushion for his sword. ”Slow down, big guy,” I cooed. “I’m fine. No harm done.”
