Viking Conspiracy

by S. T. Bende

  “Tribes have wanted to take us down for years.” Erik rubbed the thick stress lines that had formed atop his forehead. “We’ve never revealed our policies before, and I’m not sure it’s in our best interest to now.”

  “I think it is. Listen—”

  “Saga.” Erik raised one hand. “I respect your opinion. Very much. And I do want to hear it, but now is not the time.”

  “Maybe not, but—”

  “My primary concern is your safety. There’s a conspiracy brewing—one aimed at taking us down, possibly from the inside. There’s a strong chance my brother may be the spy who leaked our location, and if his presence here is meant to be some kind of distraction . . . a way to keep me from being where I need to be to protect this island and you, then I need to know it immediately. Before any more damage is done.”

  Whoa. My worries jumped straight to the next level.

  “Okay,” I murmured. “How can I help?”

  “Promise me you’ll stay away from him. Whatever Raynor does or says, don’t buy into it. It could be a trap.”

  “Understood. What else?”

  Erik reached over to grasp my hand. “Have patience with me. I need to interrogate and dispatch Raynor, and until he’s off the island, I want you to stick close to Axel. Let him look after you while I can’t.”

  “I don’t need to be looked after,” I said gently. “I can just steer clear of your crazy brother. Honest.”

  “Perhaps. But can you evade a potential abductor?”

  I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

  “Humor me, min kjære. Just for now.”

  “Fine.” I snapped my mouth shut. “But tell Axel he has to go easy with the riding lessons. Between your swords and hand-to-hand, and his dragon workouts, I can barely move most nights.”

  Erik leaned closer and pressed his lips to mine. “Thank you. I owe you one.”

  “Mmm.” I pulled his head closer and gently nibbled on his bottom lip.

  “Saga,” he groaned.

  “You said you owe me,” I reminded him. “I’m collecting.”

  Erik ran the back of his fingertip along my cheek. “I’d have thought you’d ask for something bigger.”

  “Can I?”

  Erik kissed a trail from my mouth to my ear. “Patience, sweet Saga.”

  I swear if I hear that one more time . . .

  Erik sucked gently on my earlobe before withdrawing his lips. I all but howled in protest.

  “Come on.” He stood and offered his hand. I reluctantly allowed him to pull me to my feet. “Let’s go find Axel. We can pick up where we left off after my brother leaves Valkyris.”

  For both of our sakes, I hoped Raynor left soon. The only question was, where would he go?

  And who would be waiting for him?

  Chapter 8

  THE FOLLOWING WEEK MARKED the start of a new term. New class schedules were slipped under our doors early one morning, and I eagerly read mine as the snow fell in front of my big bay window. I was relieved to lose Inter-Tribal Relations, and its cranky Professor Idrissen, but definitely was not looking forward to the plethora of pain I was going to endure with classes ranging from Advanced Combat to Archery to Blades—not to mention daily extra trainings with Axel and Erik. I mean . . . yikes.

  * * *

  Course Schedule for Saga Skånstad

  -Valkyris Academy-

  * * *

  Mandag (Máni’s day):

  Morning – Exploring (Professor Kristensen – room 221)

  Afternoon – Archery (Professor Sterk – training field)

  Extracurricular – Combative Swordsmanship (Teaching Assistant Halvarsson – outbuilding 2)

  * * *

  Tirsdag (Tyr’s day):

  Morning – Acquisitions & Disseminations (Professor Spry – room 125)

  Afternoon – Strategy (Professor Steepleton – room 202)

  Advanced Combat (Professor Grieg – indoor arena)

  Extracurricular – Dragon Riding (Teaching Assistant Andersson – Dragehus)

  * * *

  Onsdag (Odin’s day):

  Morning – Exploring (Professor Kristensen – room 221)

  Afternoon – Archery (Professor Sterk – training field)

  Extracurricular – Combative Swordsmanship (Teaching Assistant Halvarsson – outbuilding 2)

  * * *

  Torsdag (Thor’s day):

  Morning – Acquisitions & Disseminations (Professor Spry – room 125)

  Afternoon – Strategy (Professor Steepleton – room 202)

  Advanced Combat (Professor Grieg – indoor arena)

  Extracurricular – Dragon Riding (Teaching Assistant Andersson – Dragehus)

  * * *

  Freydag (Freya’s day):

  Morning – Blades (Professor Olsen – training field)

  Afternoon – Survival & Subterfuge (Professor Svenssen – room 204)

  * * *

  Holy hell. I was going to be exhausted.

  By Friday afternoon, fatigue had set in big time. Helene, Ingrid, and I had brought afternoon tea up from the dining hall and were picking at our snacks while draped across the couches and chairs in my room. I was almost too tired to raise my hand to my mouth, but the waffle was so delicious, it was worth the extra pain.

  “It’s decided,” Helene moaned. “Everybody’s new schedule is exhausting.”

  “Vidia’s so tired, she’s taking a nap right now,” Ingrid confirmed. She lifted her head from the table. “I have at least one combat class every day.”

  “You’ll be a shieldmaiden in no time.” I finished chewing my waffle and forced myself to sit semi-upright. The minute I walked through the door, I’d collapsed into the armchair by the window, and there was a very high chance said chair would become my sleeping spot for the night. I was too tired to move.

  “What about you?” Ingrid picked up my class schedule, which I’d left lying on the table. “Gods, Saga. This thing is insane.”

  “Tell me about it. Between the classes and the extracurriculars, I think my body might actually give out.”

  “Either that or you’ll end up the strongest girl in Valkyris.” Ingrid shot me a grin. “Until I claim the title.”

  “You can have it,” I groaned. “Thank God for my academic classes. At least I get to sit for a few hours a week.”

  “Which is your favorite?” Helene asked.

  “Survival and Subterfuge is pretty neat. Did you take it yet?”

  “I had it last year.” Helene nodded. “I loved it. We learned all kinds of outdoorsy stuff, like how to climb a mountain, and build a shelter from sticks and mud. And how to hide in the side of a cliff during a blizzard—look for an outcropping and build a snow shelter. Nothing we’ll ever use, hopefully, but definitely a good break from my science classes.”

  “That sounds amazing.” Ingrid blinked at me. “What did you learn this week?”

  “Week one was ice week—we learned all about frozen mountaineering. What grips to use on our boots, how to use a blade to scale a frozen surface, tips for escaping a crevasse if we ever fall into one . . .” I shuddered.

  “Ice week was definitely a high point,” Helene said. “But wait until you get to rock week. You have to wait for the snow to melt, but Professor Svenssen will take you across the water and show you how to climb a mountain. Try to get a spot right below his rope—you’ll get a great view of his butt.”

  “Helene!” Ingrid balked. “He’s a teacher!”

  “So? He’s cute.” Helene grinned at me.

  “He is pretty cute,” I agreed.

  “You’re terrible.” Ingrid shook her head.

  “Oh, like you’re not into your teaching assistant.” I waved my hand.

  “Who?” Ingrid’s eyes narrowed.

  “Axel,” I said innocently.

  “I’m not!” Ingrid said.

  “Uh-huh.” Helene snorted.

  “I’m not,” Ingrid repeated. She turned to Helene. “You said he had lot
s of girlfriends, and I don’t want to deal with that.”

  “He has none at the moment that I know of.” I shrugged.

  “Ja, well . . . I don’t want to talk about it.” Ingrid picked up my schedule again.

  Fair enough.

  “What’s Exploring?” she asked. “You have it on Mondays.”

  “That one’s seriously cool.” I sat up straighter. “Professor Kristensen’s been on, like, fifty voyages. He’s seen everything, and not only will he teach us what the different regions are like, but he’ll teach us how to navigate, prepare food in a boat, steer a ship in inclement weather, chart progress, and approach indigenous people without looking like the threat most Norse explorers are—all of it.”

  “I could have used that ship-steering lesson a few weeks ago,” Ingrid muttered.

  “I’ll bet,” I sympathized. “I’m so grateful you guys made it here okay.”

  “You and me both,” Ingrid said.

  Helene lifted her head. “What did Blades turn out to be, Saga? I never took that class.”

  “It’s axes and daggers, mostly. The sword-fighting is a whole other class—or in my case, private sessions with Erik.”

  “Mmm. Erik.” Ingrid waggled her brows. “Things seem to be pretty serious there.”

  “I guess.” I ducked my head.

  “You guess?” Helene bolted upright on the couch. “I’ve never seen my cousin like this with anyone. Ever. Has he made a marriage offer yet?”

  “What? No! I mean, uh, no.” I struggled to regain my composure. I knew that things worked differently around here—people got married at eighteen, not thirty. And they didn’t date for years—they courted for a few months, tops. Still, none of this was my normal . . . and sometimes I failed at faking it.

  “Well, maybe he will tomorrow night.” Helene clapped.

  “What’s tomorrow?” I asked casually.

  “I have no idea. I think I’ll spend it studying,” Ingrid replied, shooting me a wink.

  “Me too. Just another Saturday.” I shrugged.

  “Funny.” Helene sniffed, and we all laughed.

  “I’m sorry. The winter ball will be amazing. I can’t wait to see what you’ve created.” I meant it. Helene had been up late every night this week, decorating the ballroom with the other girls on her committee. I had no clue what a normal medieval dance was like, but if Helene’s work ethic was any indication, this one was going to blow all the others out of the water.

  “You’re both all set with dresses, shoes, hairstyles, jewelry . . .” Helene ticked the items off on her fingers. “Oh! Flowers!”

  “Flowers?” I glanced at the snow falling outside the window. “Is anything blooming now?”

  “Not real flowers, silly. Magic ones!” Helene clapped her hands. “I’ll bring them over tomorrow when we’re getting ready. Magda made these special flowers she enchanted with älva dust so they glitter-glow. I asked her to make one to match each of our gowns—Vidia and Katrin’s, too. You’re going to love them!”

  “That was really nice of you.” Ingrid smiled.

  My heart tugged. “I can’t wait to see them.”

  Helene glanced out the window. “It’s getting dark—I’d better get going. Last night to make sure every decoration is absolutely perfekt!”

  “I should probably check on Vidia, see if she wants to keep sleeping or grab dinner.” Ingrid reluctantly stood. “What about you, Saga?”

  “I think the waffles will be my dinner. I’m going to take a long, hot bath and turn in early.” And, if the go-getter Vikings would let me, sleep halfway through Saturday’s sports day.

  Dare to dream, Saga.

  “Yes. A good night’s sleep is very important,” Helene urged. “We’ll meet in Saga’s room two hours before the dance to get ready, then all walk down together. Ingrid, be sure to remind Vidia.”

  “I will.” Ingrid yawned. “Never mind. Forget dinner. I’m going to bed, too.”

  “Good night.” I waved at my friends from my chair.

  When they’d gone, I sat staring at the storm. The snowflakes had thickened since I’d sat down—they now fell in large clumps outside my window. I hoped the weather didn’t interfere with whatever Helene and her team had planned for tomorrow night. And I hoped, for my friend’s sake, that the winter ball was everything she dreamed.

  I couldn’t wait to see it unfold.

  The next day, an exceedingly cheery Helene knocked on my door at an ungodly hour.

  “Saga! I brought waffles!”

  I pried my eyes open, reluctantly extracting myself from my bed and padding across the floor to open the door.

  “I thought we weren’t meeting until later,” I grumbled.

  “Great Odin, were you still in bed? If you’re serious about wearing your hair down, you should have washed and set it already!” Helene pushed past me. “Good thing I’m here. Go. Get in your bath, wash your hair, and once it’s dry enough, I’ll help you set it.”

  “I’m good, really.” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “Just come back with the others in, uh, a few hours?” And let me go back to sleep, please and thank you.

  “Friends don’t let friends go to dances with bad hair.” Helene set the plate down on my table, and pointed to the bathroom. “Go. I’ll be here waiting. Eating waffles.”

  “Seriously, I’ll be fine. You can just—”

  “Seriously, get in the bath and do something about the bird’s nest on top of your head.” Helene smiled sweetly. “In the name of friendship.”

  I gave a long-suffering sigh. “Fine.”

  “You’re welcome!” Helene called after me.

  “Thank you,” I called begrudgingly over my shoulder.

  Ugh, chipper Vikings.

  Once my hair was clean—and Helene deemed it dry enough to set—I sat patiently in front of my window while my friend wound long strands around cloths and pinned them to my head.

  “Two hours from now, you’ll have perfekt curls!”

  I watched as she stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, tied in the final strip, and pinned it. But a flash from outside caught my eye, and I leaned around Helene to see what it was.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “There’s something out there.”

  Helene turned, and we both leaned forward to peek out the window. Below, a massive dragon soared over the water, then landed with a flourish on the snowy shore. Its rider slid easily from its back, his lanky frame practically trembling with . . . anger? I scanned his fisted hands, squared shoulders, and the clenched line of his jaw before settling on his face. Raynor’s eyes absolutely blazed with fury as he stormed across the snow.

  “Uh-oh,” Helene murmured.

  “No kidding,” I said. “What’s he so upset about?”

  “I don’t know, but it looks like he’s going to give Erik an earful.”

  Oh, no.

  I craned my neck until I spotted Erik. He stood a hundred yards from the castle, his posture mirroring Raynor’s from his balled fists to his set shoulders. He didn’t move as Raynor approached, and kept his hands at his sides while his brother waved his arms and spoke furiously.

  “What do you think he’s saying?” Helene whispered.

  “I have no idea.”

  “They’re such opposites,” Helene said sadly. “I know Raynor sees things differently than the rest of his family, but I wish he’d try harder to understand their point of view.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. I knew Raynor wanted to implement slavery in Valkyris—something Erik and his parents vehemently opposed. Thank God. But I didn’t know if their differences of opinion went beyond that.

  “Raynor’s always believed we should use our might for more than just show—that we should force tribes under our dominion, and require they obey our laws or be slaughtered. He doesn’t understand why his parents are so adamant that tribes come to our way of life by their own free will.”

  “I thought we gave clans the choice
to convert or die?” I didn’t take my eyes off the tense confrontation in the snow. Now, Erik’s arms were folded firmly across his chest. He wasn’t betraying so much as a shred of emotion.

  “Once we expose ourselves as being equitable then yes, they do have to make a choice,” Helene said. “But we don’t explain what Valkyris truly is until a tribe has shown they’d be amenable to our way of life. In those instances, it’s our duty to offer a different lifestyle to those who choose it.”

  “And Raynor wants to force everyone to live like we do?” Was that because he wanted the world to be a better place, or did he just want more subjects under his rule?

  Erik’s rule. He’s the heir, remember?

  “Raynor is like the rest of the allies—he sees might as the means to the end. Freia, Halvar, and Erik are different. They believe if we force everyone under our dominion, those who don’t agree with us will revolt and destroy us from within.”

  “Oh.” They kind of had a point.

  “But Erik and Raynor . . .” Helene shook her head. “They were so close when we were kids. It’s sad to see them like this now.”

  “What happened?” I whispered.

  “They—oh!” Helene gasped as Erik pulled his arm back and punched his brother in the gut. Raynor doubled over, clutching his stomach as he stumbled backward.

  Oh, skit.

  I pressed my nose to the glass, my breath fogging the window as Erik stormed back to the castle. A minute later, Raynor stood up. He limped to the dragon, climbed onto its back, and took off.

  When the reptile was no more than a speck in the sky, I turned to Helene. “What. The. Hell?”

  “I have no idea.” She shook her head.

  “I should go check on him.” I turned for the door, but Helene’s hand on my arm stopped me.

  “Your hair,” she pointed out.

  “I don’t care about my hair.” I shrugged her off.