Viking Conspiracy

by S. T. Bende

  “Saga?” Ingrid questioned.

  “She must be Liana,” I whispered. “She was Erik’s sister. She died in a raid a few years back.”

  Ingrid lowered her eyes. “That’s terrible.”

  I nodded. Liana had been the heir to the Valkyris tribe. Since her death, Erik’s life had been a crash course in leadership—and in giving himself over to a role he wasn’t always thrilled to embrace. He’d once confided to me that he’d rather spend his days on the seas—exploring new lands, acquiring new knowledge, experiencing the world beyond the frigid north. But he knew what Valkyris meant to the world, and he’d accepted his destiny to one day lead it. Even if, at times, his heart craved something else.

  “So . . . you and Erik?” Ingrid touched my elbow, forcing my thoughts back to the present. “What’s that like?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you’re courting the heir to the most feared tribe in all of Norway. That’s crazy, Saga.”

  “It kind of is,” I agreed. “And Erik, I don’t know. He’s . . .”

  “Gorgeous,” Ingrid helped. “And scary as hell. I swear, when I first saw him on the beach, I thought he was going to kill me on the spot.”

  “He does have solid resting angry face,” I agreed. “But he’s not scary once you get to know him. None of them are.”

  Except the crazy brother who took off for weeks at a time on a dragon.

  “So what are they like?” Ingrid asked.

  “Loyal. Above everything, these people are loyal. Once they let you in, you’re family. And they’ll do anything to protect the values that are important to them—you’ll see. It’s kind of great.”

  Just then, Ingrid’s stomach rumbled. She clutched it in embarrassment. “I saw the food,” she admitted.

  I followed her eyeline to a silver serving tray near the fireplace. A fresh plate of lefse and a cup of cinnamon-butter were laid out, along with a silver teapot and two cups. Freia and Halvar must have been sitting down for tea when the battle alarm rang.

  “Come on.” I padded across the rug, and motioned for Ingrid to follow me. I quickly placed several pieces of lefse on a plate and added butter, then held it out. “How long were you on that boat?”

  “Too long.” She shuddered. “Are you sure it’s okay to eat this?”

  “We’re not in Bjorn anymore,” I reminded her. “You’re not going to get in trouble for eating outside of mealtimes here.”

  “But it’s your chieftan’s food,” Ingrid whispered.

  “It’s my food, actually. Halvar prefers the waffles. Though you’re welcome to those, too.” Freia’s lyrical voice filled the room. Ingrid and I spun around to find her walking through the wooden doors, Erik and Halvar on her heels.

  “Your grace.” Ingrid dropped to a low curtsy. “I’m so sorry, I only meant . . . that is . . . I had no intention of . . .” She lowered her chin to her chest. “I’m sorry.”

  By then, Freia had crossed the room. She dropped to her knees beside Ingrid and cupped my friend’s chin in one hand. “You risked your life to protect my tribe. You need never apologize to me.”

  My heart swelled with pride as I held tight to the plate in my hands. I was proud of my friend, whose intel had given us the chance to mount a defense against the oncoming onslaught. And I was proud of Freia, whose ability to see what really mattered had led to the creation of a tribe unlike any other in Norway.

  “Your grace?” Ingrid blinked the moisture from her eyes.

  “In my home, I’m just Freia,” the chieftess said calmly. “And this is my husband, Halvar. And you’ve already met our son, Erik?”

  “I have.” Ingrid glanced at me, and I shot her a look I hoped conveyed, told you they were nice here.

  “Ingrid, is it?” Halvar spoke softly, as if he were trying not to spook my friend. He waited until she nodded before continuing. “We’re very grateful for the information you’ve brought us. I speak for everyone when I say you have a home here for as long as you wish it.”

  Ingrid’s eyes met mine, awe coating her cherubic features. And I couldn’t stop the grin that broke out across my face as I raised my shoulders to my ears and simply said, “Velkommen til Valkyris.”

  Chapter 2

  “VALKYRIS.” INGRID SHOOK HER head. “It’s nothing like I imagined.”

  “We have a way of surprising people,” Freia said. She offered Ingrid her hand and helped her stand. My friend followed the Halvarssons to the high-backed chairs near the fireplace. As they settled, Erik discreetly removed his muddy boots and traded them for a set beneath the bench in the entry—a shearling-lined pair that vaguely resembled a set I’d worn back home. It was true what my grandmother said—if you held onto something long enough, it did eventually come back in style. Snort.

  Erik motioned me over, and I set the plate down and moved to his side. I looped my arm through his as he leaned down to whisper in my ear.

  “She doing all right?”

  “So far,” I said quietly. “But it’s going to take a while to get used to all of this. Jeez, Erik. I had no idea your place was so fancy.”

  “My parents’ place is this fancy,” he corrected. “My suite is more . . . understated.”

  “I’ve never seen your suite,” I pointed out.

  “Mmm.” The vibration of Erik’s lips against my ear made me shiver. “And you’d like to do something about that?”

  Good God, yes! You know I do!

  But since the hottest Viking in the history of ever was Mr. Propriety, all I said was, “Meh. Maybe.”

  “Erik, Saga. Is everything all right?” Freia glanced over from her seat by the fire. Heat flooded my neck as I released my grip on Erik’s arm.

  “Yup!” I bleated, scurrying back toward the fireplace. I retrieved the plate and thrust it at Ingrid. “Here. Take it. I know you’re starving.”

  Ingrid accepted the food. “You’re sure?”

  “Eat,” Freia urged. “Erik, will you bring the cart closer?”

  “Of course.” Erik pushed the silver table so it sat beside his mother. He dished up plates for Freia and me, delivering them before doing the same for Halvar and himself. When we all had plates of the sweet flatbread on our laps, Freia turned to Ingrid with a smile.

  “First of all, I want to welcome you to Valkyris. We do things differently here than you may be used to, but if you’re willing to be open-minded, if you believe everyone is deserving of love, kindness, and basic human decency, and if you’re willing to stand up for those whose voices have been taken from them, then you’ll be quite happy making your home here.”

  My tough-as-nails friend blinked moisture from her eyes. “Do you mean it?”

  “Of course.” Freia’s voice was rich with warmth. “I came from a tribe like the one you were a prisoner in. I know what you’ve been through, and I am so very sorry for all that you’ve lost.”

  Halvar reached over to place a hand on his wife’s knee. “But you’re a member of Clan Valkyris now, Ingrid. You and your friend . . .”

  “Vidia,” I offered.

  “Yes. You and Vidia are entitled to the full rights and protection accorded to all members of our tribe,” Halvar continued. “Take the time you need to settle into our world, but never look back. You have a future here, for as long as you choose to stay.”

  Ingrid’s eyes darted to me.

  “It’s not a trick,” I assured her. “They’re really this nice.”

  Halvar’s throaty laugh boomed off the high ceiling.

  “Forgive me,” Ingrid apologized. “We’re just taught that Valkyris is, well . . .”

  “The most brutal tribe in all of Norway?” Erik chimed in. “It’s an act. One we’re quite good at, thankfully.”

  “But why?” Ingrid asked. Then her jaw popped open. “Wait, is this the tribe from the legends? The one where women are given the same rights and responsibilities as men? And you get to choose any vocation you want no matter what your parents did? Anything at all?”


  Halvar smiled proudly at his wife. “That is us.”

  “I thought it was just a story!” Ingrid squeaked.

  “Sweet girl.” Freia clucked her tongue. “What vocation calls to you?”

  “Shieldmaiden,” Ingrid blurted. “I want to be a warrior.”

  “Then a warrior you shall be,” Freia said, “as soon as we teach you the ways of our tribe.”

  Erik crossed his long legs. “Let me guess. You’ll give her a combat-heavy course of study?”

  “With a healthy dose of history, so she understands what she’s fighting for,” Freia added. “I’ll personally draw up her academy schedule.”

  “Academy?” Ingrid furrowed her brow.

  I grinned. “You’re coming to school with me. To Vik—uh, to Valkyris Academy.”

  Ingrid’s eyes widened. “You have a school here? And you let girls attend?”

  “We don’t follow traditional gender roles,” Erik explained. “We place citizens according to strengths—not sex.”

  Ingrid blinked at me. “This place is incredible.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” I shook my head. “Get ready. You and Vidia are going to love it here.”

  After tea, Erik and I left Ingrid with his parents and headed to the healing unit to check on Vidia. We took the long way, looping around the outside of the castle so Erik could check in with the warriors organizing additional sentries. He wanted to ensure a team was being sent to the eastern watch hut in case Clan Bjorn decided to launch a land attack.

  Once he’d spoken with his troops, he led me to the healing wing. A light snow had begun to fall, and I pulled my cloak tight around my shoulders.

  “Another storm?” I shivered. “That’s the third one this week.”

  “That tends to happen in the winter.” Erik wrapped one arm around me and rubbed as we walked.

  “Seriously, all I wear anymore are cloaks and gloves. I miss seeing my arms.”

  “I miss your arms too.” Erik raised a brow. “Need an excuse to wear fewer layers? Should we double down on training?”

  “No! No more training.” I was exhausted enough already.

  “I’m afraid we don’t have a choice,” Erik said softly. “With a threat this large . . . I’m not going to lose you.”

  “No. You’re not.” I reached up to touch his cheek. My fingertips raked lightly through the blond fibers of his beard, and Erik planted his boots in the snow and turned to face me. He slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his chest.

  “I care a great deal for you. You know this.”

  “I do.” I cupped his cheek. “And just so you know, the feeling’s mutual.”

  “Good.” Erik leaned down and brushed his lips against mine. A pulse of heat shot though me, and I slid my hand around the back of his head to pull him closer. Erik ran his tongue across my bottom lip, and when I sighed, he slipped inside my mouth, probing gently. My fingers wound through his hair, and the groan that ripped from his throat drove me straight to the edge of madness. Good God, Erik was hot. And when he did that thing with his tongue . . .

  “Aw, come on, man. Don’t you have a room you can do that in?”

  Axel’s voice downed the tidal wave of hormones that were about to crash over me. I buried my face in Erik’s chest and waited for the heat to ebb from my cheeks.

  “Hey, Axel,” I muttered.

  “Hei, Saga.”

  “Axel,” Erik growled. His massive hand palmed the back of my head, stroking my hair as I drew deep breaths and tried not to hate Axel for his heinous timing.

  “Erik.” Axel’s voice positively brimmed with merriment.

  “I thought you were getting your arm sewed up?” Erik said.

  I turned my head just enough to see Axel clutching his shoulder.

  “I was. But one of the dragons was acting up, so I stopped by the Dragehus first. When you two are done doing . . . whatever this is”—he waved his uninjured arm at us—“you might want to stop in.”

  “What’s going on?” Erik shifted immediately into problem-solving mode.

  “Oh, the usual. Juvenile males are posturing for dominance.”

  “Did you separate them?” Erik questioned.

  “Do I look like it’s my first day?” Axel shot Erik a pointed look. “They’re separated, but chuffing at each other over the walls. More than one fireball has been thrown.”

  Erik nodded. “I’ll look into it after Saga and I check on Vidia.”

  “You can go,” I offered. “I’ll look in on Vidia.”

  “You don’t want to help him settle the dragon fight?” Axel shot me a wicked grin.

  “Nope.”

  Axel tilted his head. “You know, we still haven’t had our dragon-riding lesson. You were so abysmal on horseback—”

  “Hey!” I interjected. “I was not abysmal!”

  “You were, actually. So abysmal that we had to postpone. And then I got stuck in Bjorn, and . . .” Axel shrugged.

  “It’s okay. I’m not in any rush.” I wasn’t. Especially not if fireballs were being thrown. Jeez.

  Erik leaned back to look at me. “You’ve not learned to ride dragons?”

  “It’s not a huge deal,” I muttered.

  “It is a huge deal for an archer,” Erik argued. “We need airborne assassins now more than ever. Is riding on your schedule for the next school term?”

  “I haven’t seen the new schedule yet.” But God, I hope not.

  Erik turned to his friend. “Axel—”

  “On it,” Axel interrupted. “Saga, meet me in the Dragehus tomorrow after classes. We’ll go over the basics and get you airborne as soon as you’re no longer abysmal.”

  I glared at Axel. “I. Am. Not. Abysmal.”

  “For your sake, I sure as hell hope not.” Axel glanced down. “I’ve got to get this arm looked at. See you guys later.”

  With that, he loped through the snow. He reached the castle and pulled open the door to the healing wing, winking over his shoulder before disappearing inside.

  “He’s insufferable,” I complained.

  “True.” Erik kissed the top of my head. “But he’s going to give you another survival skill. And for that, I’ll owe him a debt.”

  “You could teach me to ride instead,” I tried.

  “Axel’s a better teacher than I am. And besides, I’m afraid I’d let my feelings for you mar my judgment. The first time a dragon bucked you, I might be inclined to slaughter it.”

  The blood rushed from my face. “What do you mean the first time?”

  “There’s an inevitable learning curve when it comes to riding. We all go through it.” Erik smoothed the back of my hair. “And since dragon slaughter is an offense against the gods, it’s probably best I not witness your training.”

  Gulp.

  “Now come. Your friend is in a whole new land—no doubt she’ll benefit from seeing a familiar face.” Erik laced his fingers through mine and tugged me gently toward the castle.

  “Don’t you need to take care of the, uh, dragon situation?”

  “The handlers can manage things until I arrive. Your friend’s peace of mind is my priority.”

  God, I adored this man. I stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

  “What was that for?” He smiled.

  “I just like your priorities, Halvarsson.” I grinned as I trudged through the snow.

  Erik squeezed my hand. “If your friends’ report is true, we’ll have dark days ahead of us. It’s important we appreciate these moments while we can enjoy them.”

  “I know,” I whispered. My heart quickened. “It’s going to be awful, isn’t it? If Clan Bjorn attacks?”

  Erik waited just a second too long before speaking.

  There’s your answer, Saga.

  “I don’t want us to dwell on what’s coming,” he finally said. “I know you’re far from your world—removed from all you’ve ever known. But I need you to know that I’ll do everything in my power to protect you, min
kjære. You’re not without family, here. Never doubt this.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered.

  Erik’s ensuing wink left me absolutely breathless.

  That Viking was going to be the end of me.

  Chapter 3

  THE NEXT MORNING, I knocked on Ingrid and Vidia’s door. My friends were sharing a suite down the hall from me and Helene. As they emerged, Erik’s bubbly cousin skipped out of her room. She barreled toward us in a blur of curls and cheer.

  “You must be Saga’s friends!” Helene stuck out her hand. “I’m Helene—third year, healing arts student, and one of the chairs of the winter ball. Coming in a few weeks; get excited now.”

  “Hei.” Ingrid took Helen’s offered hand. “I’m Ingrid, and this is Vidia.”

  Vidia poked her head around Ingrid’s shoulder. “Hei.”

  “Come on. It’s waffle day. You don’t want to be late, or the boys will have eaten them all.” Helene skipped toward the student dining room.

  “Is she always this upbeat?” Vidia whispered as she closed her door behind her.

  “Yup. Just go with it.” I smiled at my friend. She’d been sleeping off her sea sickness when Erik and I had checked in on her. But today, the color had returned to her cheeks, and her overall vibe was considerably less . . . nauseous. Even so, I felt compelled to ask, “You’re good to start classes? If you need an extra few days, I’m sure—”

  “I want to start,” Vidia interrupted. “The more I act like this is my new normal, the sooner it will start to feel that way. Right?”

  “It worked like that for me,” I agreed. “Ingrid, you’re good?”

  “I’m good.” My fiery friend tossed her curls over her shoulder. “After history, I get my first combat class. Shieldmaiden Squadron, here I come.”

  “I’ll join you for the second half of your class. I have Strategy after lunch, but it’s only an hour. And Erik switched my schedule around to make sure I had all the chances to practice not getting captured.”