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The Viking's Consort Page 15
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Gisele went about the routine of cleaning her kills. “What does the rat say to you?” she asked.
“Don’t tell her. Just say I mumble ridiculous nonsense,” Assy quickly said.
“Nonsense mostly,” I said. “A lot of grumbling about being in a cage and wishing for a new best friend.”
“If she’s annoying you, I can always kill her and use her tail and innards as ingredients for a spell,” Gisele offered.
“I’d rather you didn’t. I wouldn’t have anyone to talk to while you’re gone.”
“You never answered my question. How are you enjoying my diary?” she asked again.
I shrugged. There was no point in denying it any longer. But how honest should I be with the witch? She hadn’t killed me yet for my less-than-complimentary statements, but that wasn’t to say she wouldn’t change her mind at any moment. She was, after all, a diabolical, malevolent dark witch. But then, if I were nothing else, I was brutally honest in circumstances where it would most likely benefit me not to be. Maybe I really did have a death wish. “I find it to be quite disturbing,” I confessed. I’d like to say I curbed the level of disgust in my voice, but I hadn’t. Not at all. “Did you ever consider that maybe you needed…help at some point in your childhood?”
“Help?” she asked, confusion etched on her face. “What on earth would I have needed help for, other than learning the things my dear friend Evelyn taught me?”
“Basic human compassion? Moral right and wrong?” I suggested.
“Boring,” Gisele sang.
“The gods forbid you live a life that doesn’t include killing the innocent all in the name of remaining entertained.”
“Glad we understand one another. Now, make yourself useful and come help me chop these up.”
My eyes widened as I gaped at the witch. “I draw the line at chopping bunnies.”
“No, you don’t. You love to chop bunnies,” she said with a smile that was downright scary.
“You’re right. I do love to chop bunnies.” I shook my head. “I must’ve forgotten,” I muttered as I walked over to her. She handed me a cup of the vile liquid I apparently also loved.
“Drink up,” she said.
I took the cup, then downed the liquid in one swallow. “Why do I love this stuff?”
“Because it makes you happy…but not in a chipper annoying way.”
“Do you really not see what’s wrong with this?” Assy suddenly spoke up.
“I feel like something is wrong with this,” I thought. “But, at the same time, it feels so right.”
“Fine, chop bunnies, drink nasty stuff, and stay with the mad, evil witch. Because all of those things seem soooo right.” Assy growled. Were rats supposed to growl?
After I took the knife from Gisele’s hand, I began chopping away as if I’d been doing it all my life. Why did I love chopping bunnies? I wished I could remember.
“I want to be strong. I want to be steadfast. I want to be able to protect those I love. But no matter how much I want those things, I feel completely and utterly inadequate.”
* * *
~Diary of Allete Auvray
* * *
“Get your lazy English arse out here right now, or I’m sending Babs in after you. I’ll have her drag you out by your breasts if I have to,” Freya bellowed from just beyond the door to my hut. Freya was entirely too much of a morning person. She awoke all chipper, smiling with the sun and singing with the birds…all while issuing threats to have women dragged around by their breasts.
“Just wait until you’re old,” Myra joined in. “Then your tits sag. If someone were to try to drag you by them, you’d have a good ten feet before you’d even feel yourself begin to move.”
“By the gods,” I roared. “Why in the twelve hells are there women standing at my door talking about dragging breasts and stretching tits!” Did they have no common courtesy? I could hear snickering and decided that no, they didn’t.
“Would you rather we be men?” Taina asked.
“We can go get some men. They’d be happy to discuss breasts,” Talia, her twin, said.
“And tits, too,” Taina added.
“Although they wouldn’t want to be dragging you out of bed,” Maarit said. “They’d be trying to keep you in it.”
“Is everyone out there?” I asked. By everyone, I meant the shieldmaidens.
“Where else would we be?” Astrid asked. “Torben isn’t here to run us off so we get to harass you.”
I rolled out of bed, trying to get my bearings. Though I must’ve slept soundly—I didn’t even remember nodding off the previous evening—I was still fatigued. It took me a minute to even recall what day it was. Between long days training with Freya and late nights with Myra trying to decipher Hilda’s book, my body and mind were both becoming exhausted. With some mental effort, I recalled the events of the past few days, realizing ten had passed since Torben and Brant left. That meant my father should be arriving any day. Hopefully, my husband as well.
Thus far, Myra and I had found little helpful information in the book. We’d only been able to discover old prophecies that had already come to pass. And we only knew they had because Hilda had written ‘came to pass’ on those pages. A sane person would merely flip through the book until they came to prophecies yet to be fulfilled. Of course, I would have had the cantankerous old oracle not put in a failsafe to ensure I read every blasted word she’d written. The words to the next page only appeared after I’d read the previous page…out loud. Sneaky, sneaky old woman.
I glanced down to verify everything was covered by a sleeping gown. I let out a—probably overdramatic—sigh as I walked to the door and pulled it open. The bright morning light nearly blinded me, and the crisp morning winter air sent a shiver down my back.
Astrid was telling the truth. They were all there, as well as Myra. She stood with Freya at the forefront of the lot, both wearing expressions of smugness that made me want to claw their eyes out.
“You look lovely this morning,” Freya said sweetly. “I understand you need your princess sleep, but we’ve got work to do before the witch here can snag you up and secret you away.”
“There’s no secreting about it,” I snapped. “You all know exactly where we are. And we’re not just in here sipping tea and eating crumpets. I’d almost rather be out there training with you all than trying to unlock the damnable secrets your previous oracle left for me.” I pointed to the hut at my back with a growl. But Freya was right about needing to get to work. My fighting skills were improving but I still had a long way to go to match the skill of the other shieldmaidens. The only way I’d ever catch up was practice, practice, and more practice.
“Cry me a river,” Freya said.
Babs yanked her short sword from its scabbard, then placed the flat of the blade up to her ear. “What’s that, Thorn?” she asked the blade, then she nodded. “Oh, you don’t care if the wittle princess is tired? Me neither. Oh, and you’d like me to use you to smack her upside her head if she doesn’t get her pretty little head dressed and ready right now? That sounds like a great idea, Thorn. I think I will.”
“Really? You talk to your sword?” I asked.
“He’s the only one who gets me,” Babs said, her face decorated with a smarmy grin.
“Need some help with your hair?” Lakin asked quickly, taking a step forward before I could respond. It hadn’t taken me long to realize she was the peacemaker of the group.
I inclined my head. “That would be helpful, yes. Thank you, Lakin.” Seeming to take that as their cue, the whole bunch headed straight for me. I backed up, then stepped aside just in time to avoid getting barreled over by the mob as they shoved their way through my front door.
Within a matter of minutes, the women had me out of my sleep attire and into my battle gear. I was soon at the mercy of Lakin’s and Freya’s hands as they plaited my hair to keep it out of my face. The intricate braids they made weren’t just practical, but beautiful as well.
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When they’d finished, I stood and glanced at Myra, who had simply sat quietly and listened while the shieldmaidens talked. “You’ll be all right while they beat me up?”
Myra laughed. “I’m sure it won’t be as bad as all that.”
“Oh, it will,” Babs corrected. “Probably worse, actually.”
The witch looked back to me, but she still didn’t appear the least bit worried on my behalf. “I’ll be fine. When you are done, we shall continue our studies and work on improving your skills as an oracle.”
Myra didn’t mention the book, even though she did say we were working on my oracle magic. It wasn’t a secret that I was an oracle. As far as I knew, the only secret was the book and what it contained within.
Once outside, Freya handed me my shield and a sheathed sword. I slung the shield over my back and then glanced at the sword, noticing it wasn’t my usual practice weapon. Pulling it out, I tested the edge. It had been recently sharpened. With an expression of confusion, I resheathed it and belted the sword around my waist. “What’s on the schedule for today?” I glanced out over the clan village, noticing everyone was up and about. It must be later than I thought. The shieldmaidens had actually let me sleep in.
“Today, we’re going hunting,” Babs answered, then cackled. The rest of the girls joined in, beginning to make wolf calls and battle cries. None of this was normal behavior for a training session, and I began to sense an anxious excitement among the women I had noticed while they’d helped me get ready. The girls only got this excited if they were actually going to kill something. A long day of training was cause for dread, not excitement. A hunt, however, that was fun.
Freya began to lead the women toward the village, her stride quick and steady. I hurried to catch up. “Freya, talk to me.” The catcalls of the shieldmaidens continued around me. Some banged their fists and weapons against their shields. What the hell?
“Our hunters and gatherers have reported seeing tracks around the village for the past three days,” she explained, refusing to slow her determined pace.
“Okay. They wouldn’t be very good hunters if they didn’t notice tracks.”
“Except these aren’t animal tracks,” she said. “They’re footprints.”
“Okay, so what? When people walk, they leave footprints. What’s the big deal? These girls are wound up like a raiding party is on the horizon and the war horns are sounding.”
“Maybe it is.”
“What does that mean, exactly? Remember, you’re speaking to a former English princess. I sewed pillows and learned languages.”
“Ahh, right,” she said with a smirk. “That makes sense, I guess. You’re probably not used to guarding against potential raiders.”
“Exact— Wait, raiders, what?” I sputtered. “Are we in danger? Do they mean us harm? Do we need to sound some sort of alarm?”
Babs stomped toward me, then put her hands on my shoulders. “You need to slow your chariot. Put away your bullhorn…and definitely do not have a princess panic moment or I will put an arrow in your arse just to watch you screech.”
Taking a step away from her, I straightened my tunic. “All you had to do was say ‘remain calm.’ There will be no need for arrows in arses. Now, Freya, if you wouldn’t mind, please explain the situation.” I took a calming breath. Without even realizing it, I’d clenched the handle of my sword tightly in my fist.
“Based on their tracks, they’re traveling light. About a dozen. All men.”
“Unless they have some women with boats for feet,” Astrid added.
“Like Babs,” Maarit said.
“Hush you,” Babs said, brandishing a fist at the girl.
Smiling, Freya continued. “What’s got an arrow in my foot is the tracks completely circle our clan. They’re about five miles out, but they make a complete circle. They’re checking us out from all angles. It’s a scouting method.”
“What do we need to do?” I asked. “Send out an emissary to try to speak with them?” The women began laughing at me. Babs roared, doubling over to clutch her belly.
“Great idea, Allete,” Astrid said. “Or maybe we invite them to an afternoon tea party? C’mon, girls. Let’s drop these silly weapons to go put on our ball gowns. We want to look appropriate when we meet the nice raiders. I’m sure they are fine gentlemen, every last one.”
“No, wittle princess,” Babs said. “We don’t send an emissary. We hunt and chase them away, or we fight them.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because people who have honest intentions don’t sneak around in the night,” Freya answered. “If they wanted to simply talk, they would have walked up to us in the light of day. Now we have to show them that we are the stronger predator. If you sneak up on a mongoose in its den in the middle of the night, you get clawed. Otherwise, you’re just prey. And prey gets eaten.”
“What does that mean for me?” I really wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
“It means we find out if your training has done any good,” Freya said. “You don’t truly know what you’re capable of until you’re fighting for your life. We’ll soon find out if you’re a predator…or prey.”
“Oh,” I said slowly. “Great. I’ve been wondering what I’m capable of.” And then I shook my head. “No, actually, I haven’t. I have no need to find out what I’m capable of.”
“You left your princess underthings on the boat you arrived on, Al,” Maarit called. “Time to pull up your shieldmaiden drawers and unsheath your sword.”
“Al?” I scoffed.
Babs and the other women shrugged. “It’s what we call you when we’re talking about you. You know, when you’re not around.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, but then shook my head. “But Al? You couldn’t come up with something better like oh, I don’t know, Lettie, Ally, or anything other than Al?”
“Give it up,” Freya said, chuckling. “Once they give you a nickname, that’s it. It sticks.”
“But I’ve never heard anyone else called by a nickname before.”
They all glanced at one another. “We don’t really have them, I guess,” Freya finally said. “Just you.”
“Then how do you know that ‘when they give you a nickname, it sticks’?” I asked.
“I just know my girls,” Freya countered, not the least bit flustered by being called out on her load of bull. “Now, enough chatting, Al. We’ve got hunting to do. Let’s go,” she called before trotting toward the wilderness on the other side of the clan.
I tried to quiet my steps since I’d noticed the shieldmaidens had the ability to run while making almost no noise, even when wearing full battle gear. I felt like a dog on a table set for tea, clanging around with my tail wagging furiously to keep my balance.
“Aren’t we bringing any of Torben’s men?” I whispered, mindful that no one else was talking.
“Amund and Delvin are heading out in the opposite direction. We’ve got a signal in place for whoever finds the raiders first,” Freya explained. She wasn’t the least bit winded, and I nearly smiled when I noted I wasn’t either. The training was paying off.
For at least another fifteen minutes, we continued at a fast pace before Freya held up a fist to indicate we should stop. We froze instantly. I watched as Freya knelt, her eyes darting around.
After she stood, she began moving slowly moving forward. We waited. She hadn’t given the hand signal to move, so she had to still be searching for something. Her eyes continued to scan the ground. All the while, she took slow, soundless steps.
I let my own eyes rove over the area. We were in a small clearing, though the trees around weren’t so thick we couldn’t see through them. The sky was a dull grey color, and the trees had nearly lost all of their leaves. There wasn’t much coverage for anyone who might be waiting to ambush us. That was the last thought I had before I heard the telltale sound of an arrow soaring through the air.
“Arrow,” I yelled, and we grabbed for our shields. Whipping my h
ead around, I tried to find the source of the projectile. I didn’t see any movement besides the other women around me. I’d just begun to lower my shield when my eyes met Lakin’s. She started to shrug. Before she finished her movement, an arrow plunged through her left shoulder. Her shrill cry sent everyone scrambling.
“Shields up,” Freya bellowed. “Get them over Lakin. Al…” She whirled on me where I’d clambered over the ground to hold my shield above Lakin’s fallen form. “Get over here and do your thing. We will surround you.”
A wall of shields surrounded us, so I dropped my own shield to the ground. Babs retrieved it, then added it to the protective dome. Freya picked up Lakin’s. I forced myself not to worry that a horde of raiders might be descending upon us, and we’d have no way to fight them off while the women were shielding me. Instead, I gazed down at a woman who’d become a beloved comrade—just like the others.
“You’re going to be okay,” I told her.
Gritting her teeth, she nodded. “I trust you, Al.”
Steeling myself, I rolled Lakin on her side. The arrow had gone all the way through. That was a blessing. “I’m going to need to pull it the rest of the way out. I can’t heal you with it still inside,” I explained. “Feel free to call me every curse word known to Odin. I won’t be offended.”
Lakin didn’t wait until I started to begin cursing me. I sat on my rear end, then scooted close to her. Putting both my feet against her back, the shaft protruding in between, I grasped the arrow. To her credit, Lakin didn’t wince. “Okay, Lakin, on the count of three, I’m going to jerk this damn thing as hard as I can.”
“Do it,” she growled.
“One…two…” Before I got to three, I pulled as hard as I could while extending my legs. Screaming, Lakin jerked away from me. I held on as tightly as I could. The blood made the thing slippery, but I was able to maintain my grip. With a rip, the thing came free. I toppled backward. Blood began to pour from the wound.
“Bloody mother, damn it all and everyone,” Lakin yelled.