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

by Quinn Loftis

  “How do you know Gisele is here?” Freya asked Myra.

  “I can feel my sister’s evil.” Myra curled her lips in distaste, searching for something I couldn’t see. “Her taint makes this place reek.” There was a wild faraway look in the old woman’s eyes I’d never seen before, and it shook me to my core. She began to speak to herself, muttering about having tried to protect her sister for so long.

  “Myra.” I spoke sharply. Her focus appeared to return.

  “What child?” she asked.

  “How can we help?” I asked gently. I knew that wherever Gisele was, I was bound to find Dayna.

  “Try to keep up,” Myra said, then began hurrying down the stone corridor. I couldn’t believe how quickly she moved. She was usually so stiff from age, but now she moved like a spry child.

  “What in the hell?” Freya barked. “Babs, Astrid. You two, follow us.” She pointed at the other shieldmaidens. “The rest of you make sure we aren’t followed.”

  “I thought she was old,” Babs said through panting breaths as we ran.

  “She is,” I called.

  “Then how is she out-running us?” Freya asked.

  “Magic mushrooms?” I questioned.

  We ran behind Myra, following the twists and turns of the castle and down stairs I assumed we were headed to the dungeon.

  We came to a sudden halt at the bottom, which ended with a closed steel door. Myra placed her hands against the door, chanting under her breath.

  “Now what is she doing?” Babs asked.

  “Trying to figure out a way to open it, I imagine,” I said. I watched the witch’s hands begin to glow. Myra began to get louder, but I realized after a minute it wasn’t only Myra chanting. There were two other voices chanting on the other side of the door.

  “Myra?” I asked. “What is that?”

  Myra grabbed my hand and placed it on the door, her voice never wavering. I couldn’t understand what she was saying because she spoke a language I’d never heard before. I could feel something inside of me tugging, the same sensation I felt when I healed someone. I focused on the power tugging inside of me, then pushed my magic to try to make the door open. I had no idea if I was able to help Myra, but she seemed to think so, or perhaps she just stuck my hand on the door to get me to shut up.

  I closed my eyes. Imagined the door flying open so powerfully it didn’t even stay on its hinges. In my mind’s eye, I saw the dark room beyond and the light from torches on the walls.

  Power deep inside, rise up, come forth, don’t hide.

  Bring your energy to this place, open up this blocked-off space.

  Magic, do your worst.

  The words filled my mind. I continued to focus on what I wanted, and the words continued to come.

  Throw open the doors wide, let what has been kept out inside.

  This is my command, power flowing down my arm and out of my hand.

  Open this door! Open this door! Open this door, I DEMAND!

  There was a whooshing sound, and wind began to gust in the small space. I felt dirt and dust begin to swirl around me. My hair flew in all directions. Then, the wind seemed to coalesce behind me, drawing energy into itself. It flew past and through me from back to front. Though I could feel its power, it didn’t threaten to topple or unbalance me. There was a loud bang as the condensed air struck the door. With a mighty crack and a shower of splinters, the oaken door flew inward, slamming onto an opposite wall. My mouth fell open. I had no idea how I’d done it, but the magic within me was apparently much stronger than I’d originally thought. But I didn’t have time to process this information. Almost immediately, I heard Myra yell beside me.

  “Fire!”

  The sconces on the walls all suddenly burst with flames, casting light across the dark dungeon. I blinked to adjust to the sudden brightness, then saw iron-barred cells lining either side of the walls. There was a ten-foot-wide walkway that went the length of the dungeon. It smelled foul, wet, and moldy. The stale air caused me to choke and cough.

  “Hello?” Freya yelled.

  I held my breath as I waited for a response. It felt like ten years of my life passed before someone answered.

  “If you aren’t here to rescue us, then at least take the witches with you.” It was Dayna, her voice loud and clear.

  I sprinted forward. “Dayna,” I screamed, heedless of danger. That was my baby sister rotting in Cathal’s dungeon. I was going to kill him if Torben didn’t beat me to it.

  “Allete,” Dayna yelled back.

  I nearly laughed at the sound of her voice. She sounded exasperated, as if she’d been expecting me. Then I remembered Myra telling me about the dream in which she’d been able to reach out to Dayna. Perhaps she had been.

  I came to a skidding halt in front of her. Dayna stood in a cell, her hands wrapped around the bars. She wore a linen tunic and pants. I raised my eyebrows. “Love your choice of garments, sis.”

  “Don’t stare at me like that. It’s the only thing Cathal would give us to wear,” she said.

  “She would look good in sackcloth,” a husky voice spoke up from the adjacent cell. I saw Brant smiling at me. Beyond him was Clay.

  “Clay. Brant.” I nodded at them before asking my sister, “Are you okay? I know that’s a dumb question, but I don’t know what else to ask.”

  “I’m actually better than I was a few days ago.”

  “You’re locked in a dungeon,” I pointed out.

  “Yes. But I’m not crawling on the floor, declaring to the world I was best friend’s with a rat and doing anything that damn witch told me to do, all the while wearing a creepy grin on my face, so I’m calling this a win,” she said.

  I blinked several times. “A rat?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course, that’s what your brain would latch on to. Just get me out of here. We can talk about it later when I’m no longer locked in this lunatic’s dungeon.”

  Freya was suddenly at my side, grinning as she held up a key. “Look what I found,” she said. “It may or may not have been attached to a guard who may or may not have a few new sword holes in his belly.” She assessed Dayna. “You must be the baby sister.”

  “Do I look like I’m sucking on a tit or eating my feet?” Dayna asked, narrowing her eyes.

  Laughing, Freya threw her head back. “I like her already.” She unlocked the cell, and Dayna flew out and into my arms. She slammed into me so hard we both nearly went down. Thankfully, Babs was behind me. The heavier woman caught me and steadied us.

  “Brant,” Freya said, then clucked her tongue. “Last time I saw you, you were boarding a ship for England. How in the hell did you end up in a dungeon in Tara?” She quickly unlocked both his and Clay’s cells.

  “I followed my heart, and this is where it led me,” Brant said, pointing at Dayna.

  “You should have asked my opinion,” Freya said. “I’d have told you following your heart usually means you end up in some sort of dungeon.”

  “As long as the dungeon includes Dayna, then I’ll happily be captured.”

  Babs made a gagging noise. “I never thought I’d see the day the mighty Brant was smitten. It’s disgusting.”

  “I don’t know who you are, but I’m the only one who gets to pick on Brant, so take your battle axe and back the hell up,” Dayna all but growled as she whirled on Babs.

  “Whoa,” Brant said. He put his hands on Dayna’s hips to pull her away from Babs. “It’s best not to piss off a shieldmaiden who can wipe the floor with you, love,” he said. “Babs doesn’t mean any harm. She’s just as prickly as you are.”

  “Pipe down, Brant,” Babs huffed. “I’m not going to hurt your woman. I respect her willingness to stick up for you, no matter how stupid it is for her to threaten me. We will get her whipped into shape soon enough, then she can back up those angry words.”

  “Ooo, does that mean I get a battle axe?” Dayna asked, her irritation suddenly gone.

  “The last time you were given s
omething sharp, a couple of men lost their hands,” I reminded her.

  Dayna shrugged. “They needed to learn not to touch a woman without her consent. Without hands, it will be hard for them to touch a woman period. Problem solved.”

  “Not to be a downer, but can we continue this reunion once we are no longer in a battle against Cathal?” Freya asked.

  “Yes, let’s get out of here,” I agreed.

  “It’s a little late for that,” a cold voice said from the doorway, causing us all to spin and face the newcomer.

  “Gisele,” Myra breathed. It was a simple word, but I felt as if a mountain of emotion was thrown into it. Pity, remorse, love, and disdain all coalesced into that single name. “How nice of you to finally show yourself instead of sulking in the dark.”

  Another woman joined Gisele. Evelyn, I assumed, and they stood between us and the door that led out of the dungeon. Both women smirked.

  “You call it sulking in the dark, I call it waiting for the opportune time to reveal myself,” Gisele said.

  “Tell yourself whatever you need to in order to make yourself feel better,” Myra chided. “Where have you been hiding out all these years, sister?”

  “Your sister has a sharp tongue,” Evelyn said to Gisele. “Maybe I should cut it out.”

  Gisele practically hissed at the other witch. “You will not touch her.”

  Evelyn turned her head slowly to glare at Gisele. “Feeling protective of your kin?”

  “You have no right to her. She is my sister. If anyone is going to hurt her, it’s going to be me.”

  “Wow, talk about dysfunctional,” Freya muttered.

  “Can’t argue with that,” Myra said.

  Evelyn growled at Gisele. “I made you. You would be nothing without me.”

  “That doesn’t give you the right to threaten my sister,” Gisele said. “You can kill any of the others, but you will not touch Myra.”

  Freya said something, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was too busy trying to figure out a way out of the dungeon. I felt Dayna nudge me. She was motioning to the right. There was a stone door just around the corner of the row of cells. I hadn’t noticed it before because I’d been so focused on Dayna.

  I tugged on Freya’s sleeve, trying discreetly motion toward the door. Her eyes widened slightly, and she gave me a small nod. Thankfully, Gisele and Evelyn were too busy arguing with each other to notice. Freya held up her hand behind her back, with three fingers raised. Slowly, she lowered each one by one in a countdown.

  When all three fingers were lowered, everyone moved at once. Dayna grabbed Brant’s hand, I tugged on Clay, and Babs threw Myra over her shoulder. We ran toward the door, Astrid and Freya bringing up the rear.

  “Stop them!” Gisele yelled. She needn’t have bothered. When we reached the door, Brant grabbed the handle and pulled. Nothing happened. He yanked again, and Clay tried as well. Both men snarled and cursed. It didn’t budge. I whirled around just in time to see Evelyn fling a bolt of dark magic toward the men. I threw up my hand, not sure what I was trying to do, but I had to do something. My own power exploded outward, another burst of wind like before. It hit Evelyn’s bolt and deflected it, sending the pulse of dark magic into the ceiling where it exploded, raining down small bits of rubble.

  “Going somewhere?” Gisele asked as she strode toward us.

  “Put me down,” Myra yelled.

  “Yes, put my sister down, Viking. It’s over,” Gisele said as she approached. The expression on her face was one of a cat that had finally cornered a particularly pesky mouse. Evelyn joined Gisele, and took us all in with hungry eyes. She actually licked her lips, and I had to suppress a shudder.

  Babs did as told, and the old woman growled before straightening her clothing indignantly. “She’s right,” Myra said. “This is over. One way or another. Allete, try to shield the others as best you can. This is between me and her.” Myra pointed a crooked finger at Gisele.

  “Wait,” I practically screamed and stepped forward, holding up my hands. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

  I could feel Astrid, Freya, Brant, Clay, and Dayna spreading out behind me, and my stomach dropped. There was no way I could protect them all. I didn’t even know how. Gisele and Evelyn would tear us apart.

  “It does, child,” Myra said. “My sister made her choice long ago.”

  Something glinted behind me. Freya and Astrid pulled their spare knives. They passed daggers to Clay, Brant, and Dayna, then unsheathed their swords.

  Evelyn laughed. “Your puny blades will have little effect on us. We’ll cut you down like grass. But there’s still hope for you, Allete. You can join us. I’ve already created one with great power who started with nothing.” She gestured to Gisele. “Just think what I could do for someone like you. You could have power beyond anything you ever imagined.”

  Dayna chuckled. “Don’t be an idiot,” she said. “Unlike you, Allete doesn’t care about power. She cares about helping people.”

  “Then maybe I can help you,” Evelyn said. “You wouldn’t be the first powerless little sister I’ve helped escape from her older sister’s shadow.”

  Apparently, this was enough for Myra. “No,” she screamed, flinging her hands out at Evelyn. A blot of pure white light erupted from her hands. Evelyn put her own hands up, and an opaque shield formed in front of her. Myra’s shot glanced harmlessly away. Evelyn cackled. “Myra, Myra, Myra,” she said. “You might look like an old crone, but I’ve been doing this much longer than you.”

  “Myra, stop, please,” I begged. I didn’t want anyone else to be hurt because of me. For so long, people had tried to control me because of my power. When I was young, I had to hide it for fear of what others might do. Then I was kidnapped for it. And my sister was tortured for it. And Hilda had died because of it. I wished I’d never been cursed with this power.

  “Last chance, girls,” Gisele said. “What’s it going to be? Join us or die now.”

  “Screw you,” Dayna said.

  “Stop,” I snapped. “Promise me you’ll let them go,” I ordered the witches.

  “What?” Gisele asked. Her brow furrowed.

  “You want me? You can have me,” I said. I unbuckled my sword belt, then dropped it on the ground. “I’ll do anything you want. But everyone else here walks away unharmed, including Myra.”

  Everyone behind me spoke at once. Their voices clambered against one another, drowning themselves out. I took a step toward Gisele, my palms held up. “Do we have a deal?”

  I could tell she was weighing her desire to kill her sister against the possibility of having me as a protégé.

  “Done,” Evelyn said. “We accept the terms.”

  “That’s not your decision to make,” Gisele growled. “I came here to rid the world of my meddling sister, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

  “Don’t be a fool,” Evelyn barked. “Think of the power this one’s blood will bring us.”

  “She’s right,” I said, then took another step toward them. “It’s all yours. Just let the others go.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying, girl,” Myra shrieked.

  “I do,” I replied calmly. Bending, I retrieved a dagger from my boot. I dragged its blade across my arm. A line of red liquid appeared. I held the arm out to Gisele. “It’s yours.”

  Watching my wife sprint away with the other shieldmaidens was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It was far worse than any battle I’d ever fought, any injury I’d ever sustained. Despite the prophecy, despite everything that had gone according to plan up to that point, I still feared I’d never see her alive again.

  ~Torben

  In an instant, battle commenced. Cathal’s army poured into the courtyard like a plague of locusts swarming upon crops. Though the clans and the English army had done an admirable job of forming up, the sheer number of Cathal’s soldiers forced us to break ranks. After that, I remember extraordinarily little. I seldom did after a battle. The on
ly thing that stood out was the expressions on men’s faces. Emotions ran the gamut. There was fury, grim determination, surprise, agony, despair, and crazed ecstasy.

  I felt all these as I cut my way through my enemies. Cathal’s men were well trained and they fought with discipline, but the men of the clans were made of sterner stuff. I soon realized we would be victorious. The courtyard became littered with bodies, and the majority wore Taran uniforms. More than once, I found myself unconsciously scanning the carnage for Brant only to realize he wasn’t in the battle. I wasn’t sure exactly where he was, only that he was most likely being held captive somewhere in the bowels of the castle. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d had to rescue him. But I was so used to fighting alongside him it felt strange to swing my sword knowing he wasn’t covering my flank. I resolved then to remove myself from the fray and accomplish the goal for which I’d originally set out—killing Cathal.

  I knew enough about the coward to know Cathal wouldn’t be in the thick of the fighting. He’d be observing somewhere, giving orders from a safe distance. It didn’t take long. A clanmate beside me went down with an arrow in his chest. I stared up at the battlements and there the king was, surrounded by a regiment of archers. Anger blazed within me. In an instant, I saw all the pain and destruction the man had caused—my own clan burned, my clansmen killed. I saw similar scenes belonging to Clans Akefor, Bjornvik, and Brending. But most all, I saw Allete at the English castle, with his hands on my wife. I watched him touch her, grope her, and hurt her, all while I had to simply stand and watch. Would that I could have simply killed him then instead of keeping up the charade I was simply Allete’s guard. I would probably have been hanged, but how much death and destruction would have been prevented? Regardless, the past was the past and Cathal’s was about to catch up to him.

  I hoisted my shield and sprinted to the nearest set of stone steps leading up to the battlements. A pair of Taran soldiers guarded it. It was clear their one job was to keep any of the Vikings from ascending the steps where they could attack the king. These weren’t regular infantrymen. This was the king’s personal guard, the best of the best Tara had to offer.