Viking Conspiracy

by S. T. Bende

  “Sell it, Saga. She’s a dragon—she needs to be convinced.”

  “Høyre!” I called again, this time with feeling.

  My fingers dug into the saddle again as Deathknell took a sharp right turn.

  “Holy mother!” I screamed.

  “She’s testing you. Dig your left heel into her rib to steady the course.”

  “I thought you said she hated that.” I did not want to make this dragon mad at me.

  “Just do it,” Axel urged.

  I bit down on my bottom lip and dug my heel into Deathknell’s side. She snorted loudly, but softened her turn.

  “Oh, thank God.” I practically wilted in relief.

  “Now try a left bank,” Axel said.

  “Venstre!” I called.

  Deathknell immediately shifted to the left, flapping until she scaled the peak of the nearest mountaintop.

  “Whoa,” I murmured as we crested the hill. I’d never seen this part of Valkyris before. We were on the other side of the mountain now, and the snow-covered trees were broken up with occasional sentry posts. There seemed to be a hut every mile or so, each with a lit torch and, I presumed, a warrior scanning for threats.

  Threats like Clan Bjorn.

  “Are those the sentries?” I called over my shoulder.

  “Ja,” Axel confirmed. “We send a rider out every morning and every night to collect their reports. We have stations all over the region.”

  So that was how they got information so fast.

  “Where’s the mainland colony?” I asked. “Valkyris East?”

  “It’s a five-minute flight in the other direction. Want to get us there?”

  “I’ll try.” I venstre-ed Deathknell in a U-turn, and needed only minimal coaching to get her back over the mountain and across the snow-covered terrain. Four-and-a-half minutes later, Axel pointed to a torch-lit settlement in the distance.

  “That is Valkyris East. We do checks on this site less frequently, though they send in daily reports by horseback. We try not to draw attention to it, and the dragons, well . . .” I could almost see Axel’s shrug.

  “I get it. I take it landing tonight’s not an option?”

  “Definitely not. Høyre!” Axel yanked on the reins, pulling until Deathknell made an about-face. My stomach lurched, and I flung myself against the dragon’s neck and held tight.

  “Axel!”

  “Sorry. I just don’t want us getting too close. With everything that’s going on, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  “I understand.” I pushed myself unsteadily back up. “Thanks for showing me.”

  “You need to get the lay of the land if you’re going to protect it.” Axel turned Deathknell back in the direction of the main Valkyris settlement. “Okay, you get us home from here. Bakke is the landing cue—wait until right before you’re ready to ground to say it. See if you can set us down in the field behind the Dragehus.”

  I took the reins and nodded determinedly. “Deathknell, take us home.”

  “They’re only trained to respond to the cues,” Axel said slowly.

  “You never know.” I shrugged. I tugged lightly on the reins, steering the dragon back to the island. A few høyre and venstres later, we were circling above the Dragehus. “Okay, Deathknell, set us down in the field. And . . . bakke!”

  The dragon flapped once, angling toward the barn. She lowered her head and dove. My braid whipped behind me. My heart pounded with such ferocity, I was positive all of Valkyris could hear the evidence of my fear.

  “Bakke! Bakke gently!” I screamed.

  Deathknell, still diving, turned her head to stare at me. I could have sworn I saw a twinkle in those yellow, reptilian eyes.

  “Axel!” I shrieked.

  But before Axel could respond, Deathknell opened her wings and flapped backward once. Our death fall abruptly ended, and we were suddenly touching down in the exact spot I’d requested—the field behind the Dragehus.

  Deathknell turned her long neck, looked right at me, and straight-up laughed. Her dragon eyes crinkled, and she chuffed rhythmically while bearing her teeth. If I wasn’t trying so hard to not pass out, it would have been kind of cool. Also, rude.

  “The landing was a little rough, but you pulled it off.” Axel slapped me on the back. “Nice job, Saga. We’ll give it another go tomorrow.”

  My stomach lurched in protest.

  “Erik, a hand, if you don’t mind?” Axel slipped easily from the dragon’s back, leaving me to fumble after him.

  “How’d she do?” Erik’s reassuring hand helped me down. My knees buckled as my feet hit the ground, and he swept me against him with one arm. “Hey, you okay?”

  “I’m alive.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on tight. “I’m calling that a win.”

  “She did great,” Axel praised. “We’ll do it again tomorrow. And the next day. And the next. Until you can ride solo. Then shoot. Then ride and shoot while being shot at.”

  “And I assume you’re going to be the one teaching me all of this?” I groaned.

  “Erik’s going to help. He just didn’t want to be the one to take you out your first time.” Axel pulled Deathknell’s reins over her head and led her back toward the Dragehus.

  “Would have been nice though,” I muttered.

  Erik shrugged. “I knew I’d give in if you’d asked me to abort the lesson. And I know it’s a skill you have to learn—not only for Valkyris’ safety, but for your own.” Erik ran the hand not holding me through his tangled, blond mane. “Sooner or later, we will be attacked. And I have to know my girl can look after herself.”

  My heart completely melted. I reached up to stroke a loose strand of hair from his forehead, losing myself in the way the moonlight bounced off the angular lines of his face. Without thinking, I stood on tiptoe and pulled his head to mine, giving in to what quickly turned into an absolutely toe-curling kiss. Erik’s hand snaked up the back of my cloak, and he pressed me against the hard muscles of his chest. I shivered as his lips left mine, roaming downward along my neck and settling on the delicate patch behind my ear. His tongue flicked against my lobe, and I groaned as a wave of pleasure shot due south. I pressed myself tighter against him, running my hands through the silky strands of his hair and wishing we weren’t standing in the middle of a snowbank.

  “Ahem.”

  In front of Axel.

  “Ahem, ahem!”

  “Go away.” Erik’s lips didn’t leave my neck.

  “I’m trying, but the two of you seem to be distracting my dragon.”

  I reluctantly turned my head to find Deathknell’s twinkling eyes studying me. They flickered between me and Erik, before fluttering closed. When they opened again, Deathknell stepped forward, her head bowed.

  “No. Way,” Axel murmured. “That was fast.”

  “What’s she doing?” I whispered to Erik

  The dragon nudged my side with her head.

  “She’s acknowledging you’re family.” Erik smiled as Deathknell nudged me again. “And she wants you to accept her back.”

  Shut the front door.

  “How do I do that?” I asked.

  “Touch her horns,” Erik answered.

  I raised a brow.

  “Trust me,” he said.

  With a sigh, I released my hold on Erik and shifted my attention to the red-scaled reptile before me. I tentatively reached up, and Deathknell shifted her head so I could reach her horns. I wrapped my palms gently around them, and lowered my forehead to touch hers.

  “Please don’t try to scare me to death again, okay?” I whispered. “That was terrifying. Don’t tell Axel.”

  The dragon chuffed rhythmically, but nodded once.

  I gave her horns a gentle squeeze, and stepped back into Erik’s arms. “Now what?”

  “Now we get you back to the castle.” Erik guided me away from the Dragehus. “You have to be starving.”

  “Also exhausted,” I agreed.

  “Axel can
take your new friend back to the barn. How about you and I grab dinner and call it a night?”

  “That sounds perfect.” I turned to Axel. “Thanks for the lesson.”

  “Any time.” He shot me a wink. “You two stay out of trouble. Erik, behave. Or better yet, don’t.”

  Erik swore over his shoulder in farewell.

  As we walked through the snow, I looped my arm around Erik’s waist and smiled. “Sorry to tell you this, but I’m Team Axel on this one.”

  “Pardon?” Erik glanced down at me.

  “You don’t have to behave. I’m just saying.”

  Erik’s sky-blue eyes darkened a shade. “One of these days, I won’t.” His hand slid down my back, pausing at the curve of my butt. He squeezed lightly, sending a surge of heat coursing straight through me. When I shivered, he dipped his head to rake my earlobe between his teeth.

  Holy. Freaking. Mother.

  “The only question is,” he murmured, “are you going to be able to handle it?”

  I had no idea. But I desperately wanted to find out.

  Soon.

  Chapter 7

  MUCH TO MY DISAPPOINTMENT, Erik did not break his perfect control that night. Or on any of the nights that followed. Instead, he made good on his promise to implement two-a-day trainings, and thoroughly exhausted me with sword-fighting workouts in the morning and hand-to-hand sessions at night.

  The rest of my days blended together in a series of classes, trainings, and riding lessons. Axel hadn’t been kidding when he’d promised to take me flying every day. We’d put in countless airborne hours, and I had the perma-burn in my quads to prove it. He’d pulled the saddle once I’d shown I could control a dragon with verbal commands, and after that first bareback session, my muscles had ached so badly that I’d spent a solid hour in my bucket-less bath. But when I’d climbed back on the firebreather the next day, my body had hurt a little bit less. And when Axel had handed me a bow and told me to fly, exhaustion gave way to exhilaration. I hadn’t been born an assassin, a warrior, or even a Viking. But I’d fallen into a world threatened by fear, and this was something I could do to help my adopted tribe . . . for however long I was a part of it.

  Despite the looming dangers, life on Valkyris carried on with a bizarre sense of normalcy. When I asked Erik how his people could act as if it were business as usual—save for the increased trainings and rise in weapon production—he reminded me that Valkyris had spent most of its existence under threat of attack.

  “If we were to give in to every fear,” he explained, “to cease to embrace each day to its fullest . . . it would be as good as ceding to our enemies. Life is short, Saga. And we must enjoy it while we have the chance . . . or we’ll not have lived at all.”

  And so, the island carried on with the business of living—seizing each day to the greatest extent possible, and squeezing in bursts of happiness all the while being mindful of the need to prepare for the worst. In this spirit, weekdays were devoted to classes, strategy, weapon production, and combat trainings. Monday through Friday from dawn ’til dusk, Valkyris was fully dedicated to preparing for an all-out attack. Weekends, however, continued to be devoted to sports. Since the weather had cooled, my clansmen abandoned knattleikr and swimming for skiing, snowshoeing, and what seemed to be a medieval version of curling. A small lake in the center of the island had frozen over weeks ago, and on Saturdays it hosted two teams, each intent on gliding a smooth stone into a painted circle.

  The curling was fun, but I usually chose to ski around the island. I’d only done downhill at home, and it took me a while to get used to the Viking version—they practiced a style somewhere between cross-country and telemark, and Erik had demonstrated tremendous patience—and only minimal laughter—in teaching me to stay upright.

  On the last Saturday of the academic term, Erik skipped his usual axe-throwing competition—which apparently, transcended all seasons—and joined my friends and I in the ski races. Ingrid took the lead in our relay, edging out Zaan’s team to be the first to pass the stick to Helene. My friend lost time to Axel when one of the curlers accidentally threw the stone across our track, but Erik more than made it up during his leg. By the time he handed me the stick, we were neck and neck with our opponents. Poor Katrin didn’t stand a chance as I lowered my head and skated as hard as I could through the light layer of powder. My skis slid easily across the finish line, cinching our victory as my teammates barreled toward me on long, wooden sticks.

  “We did it!” Helene launched herself at me. I landed hard in the snow, my skis tangled in hers.

  “Ouch!”

  “Oops.” Helene extracted herself, and I sat up to untie my bindings.

  “Way to go, us!” Ingrid pumped her fist in the air, and Erik offered a hand to help me up.

  “Nicely done, min kjære.” Erik kissed the top of my head. “I was afraid I’d have to chop Zaan’s firewood for a week, but instead, he has to chop mine.”

  “You guys do know we can use the castle wood supply, right?” Helene placed her hands on her hips.

  “Ja. But then how would we keep these exquisite muscles?” Axel kissed his biceps, and I laughed.

  “I don’t know. By torturing the rest of us in the training arena? Or the air?” I raised a pointed eyebrow.

  “Hey. You can shoot an arrow from a flying dragon all because of me. You’re welcome.”

  My retort stalled on my tongue. He had a point. “Yeah, well . . .”

  “Speaking of dragons, look who the Helbeast dragged in.” Helene pointed to the sky where a winged creature had just crested the mountain. It dove for the ground, pulling up at the last second to land neatly in the center of the sporting field. Its rider slid from its back, slung the reins over the dragon’s head, and stalked angrily toward us.

  “Raynor,” Erik growled.

  I studied Erik’s brother. We hadn’t heard from him since he’d left to recruit new members for Valkyris East.

  “Do you think he knows about Bjorn’s threat?” I asked quietly.

  “No idea.” Erik shifted so he stood slightly in front of me. “But we’re about to find out.”

  Raynor held out his arms as he approached. “I see you’re all hard at work, protecting your precious freedoms.”

  “Either deliver your update or leave,” Erik commanded.

  “How nice to see you too, brother.” Raynor spat the word. His eyes ran over our group, flicking from Helene to Zaan before settling on Ingrid. “I see you have fresh blood in Valkyris.”

  Axel stepped in front of Ingrid. “What do you want?”

  Raynor’s eyes narrowed. “While you’ve all been playing your sporting games, I’ve been amassing an army of converts. Valkyris East has a hundred new members, thanks to me.”

  “The riders have reported as much,” Erik said. “The combat captains are training them for battle.”

  Raynor’s dragon stamped the ground, and he reached up to stroke its chest. “Have your riders also informed you of Bjorn’s recent acquisition of warships?”

  My heart stilled. “What?”

  “Clan Bjorn has amassed a trove of warships, and they’re recruiting the soldiers to man them. While you’ve been skiing, Chief Olav and Lars have been hard at work raising an army to take Valkyris down. I understand they’ve already delivered their message—they fully intend to recover their slaves. And their bride.” Raynor’s eyes ran down my body, leaving me with a chill that had nothing to do with the snow. “And they will see that Valkyris—and its heir—are destroyed, once and for all.”

  “How do you know of their threat?” Erik’s jaw clenched.

  “It’s not a threat. It’s a vow—one all of Norway knows about.” Raynor clucked his tongue. “Theft of an ally’s slaves—not to mention their bride—is punishable by death. Valkyris has committed both without any explanation, and Bjorn now threatens to destroy anyone who doesn’t stand against this disturbing precedent. The rest of the tribes have no choice but to side with Bjorn. We’v
e done nothing to defend our actions, and nobody wants to be on the losing side of a war.”

  Skit.

  “He’s right.” I whirled on Erik. “We have to respond. I know our practices are outside of the norm, but we need to tell everyone there was never a theft—I left Bjorn willingly, as did Ingrid and Vidia. We should reveal ourselves to the tribes, and let them see the life we can offer them. Freedom from brutality; equality for all citizens, regardless of gender; an open-minded approach to lifestyles and vocational choices and—”

  Erik held up one hand. “Have you spoken to Mother and Father?”

  Was he even listening to me?

  “Did you miss the part where I just landed in this field?” Raynor’s eyes rolled skyward.

  “Stable your dragon, then meet me in our family quarters,” Erik snapped. “Go.”

  “Whatever you say.” Raynor gave a mock bow, and pulled his dragon toward the Dragehus. As he walked, he called over his shoulder, “And since you forgot to ask, our location remains secure. For now.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Axel turned to face Erik. “Is he threatening us?”

  “I don’t know what he’s doing.” Erik grimaced. “Axel, go find my parents and tell them to meet me in our quarters. Zaan, keep an eye on the girls—make sure Raynor doesn’t come back to bother them. Saga, come with me.”

  Erik picked up his skis and stalked across the snow. I shot my friends a confused look before shouldering my own skis and hurrying after him. He didn’t slow down until he reached the exterior door of the academy wing. There, he deposited his skis in the pile, opened the door, and waited for me to come inside.

  I dropped my skis beside his and stepped into the warmth of the social area. A couple was having a moment in front of the fireplace, but they scattered when Erik stormed into the room. He dropped into one of the massive chairs in front of the fire and glared into the flames.

  “Erik?” I took the seat next to him and waited for him to speak.

  After an eternity, he opened his mouth. “I don’t trust him,” he spat.

  “I don’t trust him either. But he has a point—if Bjorn’s building an army against us, we need to speak out—be a voice for the tribes that are being bullied into a war that’s not theirs.”