Viking Conspiracy

by S. T. Bende

  “Yes, but—”

  “I can advise you, as I advise all who come through my door, to put your faith in those you love. Only through trust and teamwork can greatness come to pass.”

  “What does—”

  “Go in peace,” the prophet said, and closed her eyes again.

  I stepped through the door and into the snow. But instead of joining the rest of the tribe for sports day, I walked the forest, pulling my cloak tightly around my shoulders as the cold settled in.

  Immortalize Valkyris. Put your faith in those you love. Try not to end the world.

  I had no idea what to do with that.

  But I knew someone who would.

  Chapter 11

  “ERIK!” I CAUGHT HIM as he was about to walk into the dining hall. He immediately turned around, relief flooding his eyes.

  “There you are. I missed you at leikar, but Helene told me you were with the prophets.” He held out his hand. I slipped my fingers through his, letting his warmth rush up my arm and settle around my heart. “Come. Eat with me.”

  “Can we take dinner to go?”

  Erik’s brow furrowed in concern. “Did everything go all right?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.” I raked my free hand through my hair. In my haste to leave that morning, I hadn’t had time to braid it. And after a day pacing the woods, it had turned into a tangled mess.

  “Saga, you’re worrying me.” Erik frowned.

  “My mind is a wreck.”

  “I see.” Erik glanced down the hallway. “Wait here. I’ll fetch plates for us, and we can eat in the ballroom.”

  “I was hoping for somewhere private,” I said.

  “There aren’t any events this weekend—nobody will bother us in there.” With a nod, he released my hand and ducked into the dining hall. I fidgeted with the hem of my cloak until he returned, a plate in each hand, and marched toward the ballroom. “Follow me.”

  I did as instructed, darting ahead of him to open the enormous wooden door. Erik stepped through, and as I closed the door he deposited our plates on a table near the window, and pulled out my chair.

  “Sit,” he said. “Talk. What did the prophets say?”

  “I don’t know! That’s the problem.” I wrung my fingers together as I hurried across the room and dropped into my seat.

  “Ah.” He sat opposite me. “They’re not particularly forthcoming, and they tend to speak in riddles. Drives us all nuts. But we’ll figure it out together.”

  I worried my lip. “They said that the gods had brought me to Valkyris to immortalize your world.”

  “Well.” Erik’s lips quirked upward. “That’s not so terrible.”

  “They also said I should have caution, for in doing so I might bring about its end.”

  “Oh.” Breath whooshed from Erik’s lungs as he leaned back in his chair. His shoulders caved in until he resembled a deflated balloon.

  That was definitely not good.

  “They told me to put my faith in those I love. And that ‘only through trust and teamwork can greatness come to pass,’” I quoted.

  “That’s their standard post-prophecy disclaimer. I think it absolves them of guilt in the event their predictions make us go crazy.” Erik rubbed his jaw. “But skit, Saga. That’s heavy.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “What do I do?”

  “Try not to end the world?”

  I glared. “Not helpful.”

  “I know.” Erik stared out the window.

  I picked at my bread. “Look. I’ve been thinking about what Raynor said a lot.”

  “Pay my brother no mind.” Erik picked up his knife and cut into his meat.

  “And I’ve been thinking about my prophesy all day,” I continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “And I think the two are related.”

  Erik’s head snapped up. “How so?”

  “The dagger brought me here to help lead Valkyris. When I arrived, I didn’t understand what that meant because I knew nothing of the tribe, its customs, or what it needed. But in the months that I’ve been here, I’ve come to understand how unique your civilization is for this era. Valkyris gives freedoms to women, and that is virtually unheard of for this time. It operates on a system of fairness and equity not often found at any point throughout history—including my own. It’s Camelot.”

  “Cam who?”

  Context, Saga. “It’s a perfect society,” I amended. “But it’s doomed to fail because it’s founded on an innately flawed principle.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “You seem to believe that the world outside of Valkyris is bad.” I released my bread and leaned forward on my elbows. “And I’m not going to lie: from what we’re taught in my era, you’re living in one of the more brutal periods of history. The raiding, the pillaging, the disease, the famine . . . it’s dark times, Erik. But you’re wrong about the rest of the world. People at their core are good in every era, including this one. They always have been, and I believe they always will be. And by keeping Valkyris a secret—by denying people the opportunity to embrace the virtues you fight so hard to protect . . . you’re doing the world a huge disservice.”

  Erik’s face was unreadable. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying . . .” My heart thundered in my chest. “When the prophets said I came to immortalize your world, I believe I was meant to help you open Valkyris to everyone—to reveal what we truly are, and to invite all of Norway to join us.”

  Darkness flickered across Erik’s eyes. “And what of the second part of the prophecy? The destruction of Valkyris?”

  “That frightens me,” I whispered. “If we don’t do it right, the risks are . . .”

  “Too great.” Erik shook his head. “I can’t allow it.”

  “What choice do we have? You heard Raynor—the tribes are rallying behind the biggest threat. Nobody wants to be on the losing side of a war. If we don’t give them a reason to stand with us, they’ll fall for Bjorn’s lies and destroy everything your family has worked so hard to build.”

  “Our system works. We identify tribes with strong females and an openness to egalitarianism. We conquer them, reveal our true nature, and offer them conversion or death. It is a slower system than perhaps we’d like, but it is effective. Our reach has spread through several regions of our own country, and in time—”

  “We don’t have time,” I urged. “Bjorn’s gathering an army against us, and we have to act. But we have to be smarter about it—if we truly believe in egalitarianism, we can’t force our choices on others. That goes against everything we stand for.”

  “And you propose what, exactly?”

  “I want to draw up a report—like the ones we put together in Acquisitions and Disseminations. It will outline our moral code, our system of governance, and our political infrastructure. And it will contain a manual for gradual conversion, outlining the best ways to implement our practices as well as potential perils. I’ll write up a fiscal breakdown that demonstrates exactly why our system works from an economic standpoint, with subsections for productivity, morale, and innovation. By the time it’s finished, no chief in their right mind wouldn’t want to come onboard. Of their own free will. What do you think?”

  Erik shook his head. “It’s too much of a risk. My answer is no.”

  No? Just no?

  Had he not heard anything I said?

  “What about the other prophecy?” I pressed. “The one you and your family were talking about months ago, in the church?”

  Erik’s eyes narrowed. “What about it?”

  “You said your prophets had seen a battle that would mark the end of a great tribe of the north. I believe if we stay our current path, we will be that tribe. But if we expose ourselves, give the rest of the clans something worthy to fight for, then Bjorn will be the tribe that falls. Or Ragnar. Or any of the allied tribes who rule through fear and darkness.”

  “Saga—”

  “Light always triumphs, Erik. There are pl
enty of dark times throughout history, but good always prevails in the long run. Showing the world the goodness that is Valkyris may be our only way to save it. I truly believe the light will—”

  “Enough.” The single terse word startled me into silence. “You’re a wise woman, Saga. And while I respect your opinion, you’ve been here only a short time. Your ideals are grounded in the reality of your world—not mine. And in my reality—the reality you would do well to realize you’re currently in—weakness is preyed upon. Liabilities are exploited. And clans are slaughtered, all in the name of politics.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “But nothing.” Erik’s voice was deadly soft as he stared me down.

  Seriously? “Listen, Erik. I—"

  “Saga.” Erik leaned forward on one elbow. “You’ve only been here a few months. Do you believe that in that short time, you’ve learned enough to tell us how to govern our world?”

  “I—”

  “Look me in the eye,” he continued, “and honestly tell me that you know better than the chief and chieftess who founded and fought for the very existence of Valkyris; than the scholars who transcribed and disseminated knowledge through the northern territories; than the warriors who died upholding our virtues. Tell me, Saga, do you truly believe it is in our best interests to cede decades of protocols and protections on the advice of a relative newcomer?”

  Ouch.

  “What I believe,” I said, “is that light will overcome darkness.”

  “Then you’ve learned little about the reality of life on Valkyris.”

  “That’s not fair.” My hands balled into fists.

  “Life’s not fair, Saga. We deal with it, and we move on.”

  Oh. No. He. Didn’t.

  “Since when do you get to dismiss me?”

  “Since you asked me to risk the safety of my tribe because you believe in light.”

  “What I believe is that when faced with the choice between light and dark—provided those offering the light also possess the might to protect their followers—people inherently choose the light.”

  “And I know that people value survival and will bow to the greatest threat—which has always been Valkyris. If we show our true selves, we risk handing all power over to Bjorn. And we risk losing our stronghold not only on the northern territories, but on our own tribe.”

  “Erik, you have to see that—”

  “What I see”—the vein over his jaw bulged, as if he might be clenching his teeth very hard—“is that you have been here a very short time. And you know little of the history between the allied tribes and the rest of the northern territories. Where you hope to see light, I know of darkness. And it is my literal duty to be practical. The fate of this tribe rests squarely on my shoulders.”

  “Which is why you should reveal Valkyris to the world,” I pressed.

  “I will not do that.” Erik’s voice carried an edge.

  “But Erik, I—”

  “This isn’t a negotiation.”

  “Then you put us all at risk.”

  Erik’s hands gripped his biceps so tight that his knuckles turned white. “As heir of Valkyris, that burden is mine to bear. Alone.”

  Ice shot through my veins. “I thought we were a team.”

  “We are a team. And if you value our lives, you will drop this matter immediately.”

  “And if you value our lives, you’ll hear what I’m saying.”

  We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Erik’s impassive gaze chilled me to my core. How could he not see that this was a way to preserve the world he’d sworn to protect? How could he just ignore what I was telling him?

  How could he ignore me?

  “My answer is no,” he finally said. “I will not expose my tribe.”

  “It’s my tribe too.” Bitterness seeped into my voice. “And if you’d look at the big picture, you’d see that the best course of—"

  “Enough, Saga. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Valkyris is my tribe.” Erik’s words cut through me like daggers. “I have spent a lifetime understanding it, and I’ll spend the rest of my days defending it. I am its heir; its protector; its future. And I will not let anyone put it at risk. Anyone.”

  Liquid ice coursed through my veins as Erik’s insult ran on repeat across my brain. You don’t know what you’re talking about.

  I couldn’t look at him anymore. I wrenched my head to the side and stared out the window.

  I’d thought we were equals. I’d thought we were supposed to work together to make Valkyris—and the world—the best it could be. I’d thought our connection was so strong, that one day, we’d be true partners like Freia and Halvar and spread light where there was darkness, offer hope where it was most needed. Instead . . .

  Instead, I was relegated to a secondary role—a bit player in my own life. My views were innately lesser than, for reasons I might never fully understand. Erik couldn’t see that as an outsider, in the truest sense of the word, I was uniquely positioned to offer him advice.

  And because of that, we were destined to fail—as a tribe . . . and as a couple.

  Moisture filled my eyes, and I blinked it hastily away.

  Not now.

  Erik returned his attention to his food. The rough pads of his fingers gripped his knife as he speared another piece of meat. Was he seriously going to eat after telling me I didn’t belong? That I was just . . . anyone to him?

  “I’m not hungry.” I pushed my chair back and stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to my room.”

  “Saga, please. Just eat your food.”

  Just eat my food? Was he insane?

  “So, that’s it?” I drew my shoulders back. “You’d rather I blindly agree with you? Like the women of all the other allied tribes do with their heirs?”

  A shadow passed over Erik’s eyes. “That’s not fair.”

  “What’s not fair is your point-blank dismissal of what you know full well is a valid perspective.” Anger coiled in my gut. “I came here unwillingly—I was taken captive twice, and immersed in a world I knew nothing about. But I have dedicated myself to this tribe, to you, and to making sure that I contribute the best I can for as long as I’m here. I care just as much about Valkyris as you do, and if you’re too thick-headed to see that, then there’s nothing else I can do.”

  “I’m aware of your dedication.” Erik spoke carefully, as if he were afraid I might punch him in his perfect face. In all fairness, I might. “But in matters of governance, you must cede to me.”

  Cede to me? Was he out of his God-forsaken mind?

  I was not about to cede to anyone. In any era. Ever.

  “I. Am. Not. Your. Subject,” I growled. “I am your partner. When did you forget that?”

  Anger flashed across Erik’s face, a wave of tension roiling over his normally stoic features. “When did you forget my duty to this tribe?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe around the time your mother summoned me from the freaking future to help you run it!”

  “This is not your tribe to run!” Erik thundered. “You don’t know what’s best for Valkyris, because you’re not one of us! And if you insist on risking our safety, you never will be!”

  The words socked me in the gut, evicting all the air from my lungs. As I struggled to breathe, a wave of sheer exhaustion rolled over me. It had been one hell of a day, and I was tired of fighting—fighting to be heard, fighting to survive, and fighting for my sanity. I missed my family desperately. I missed feeling normal desperately. I missed . . .

  I shook my head. “Goodbye, Erik.”

  “Saga.” He jumped to his feet, snaking his arm out to grab my hand.

  But he didn’t apologize. And he didn’t take his words back.

  I pulled my hand from his and walked for the exit. “If you decide you want a true partner, you know where to find me.”

  “You are my partner,” Erik growled. “But on this matter you—”

  His words were cut
off by the click of the door. I walked alone through the corridors of the castle, ducking my head to hide behind my hair. When I reached my room, I kicked off my boots, flopped face-first onto my bed, and cried.

  Chapter 12

  I DIDN’T SEE ERIK on Sunday. I ventured out of the castle in the middle of the day, braving the cold for some fresh air and a chance at clearing my mind. But a hike around Valkyris brought me no closer to inner peace than I’d been during my restless night, and a few hours later I ended up back in my room, staring at the fire while I warmed my hands. After a while, I migrated to my desk and began drafting the report I’d discussed with Erik—the one that would outlay the economic and social benefits of adopting the Valkyris lifestyle, and hopefully, convince tribes to support us over Bjorn. It was probably pointless, but it kept my mind off my fight with Erik. And maybe, someday, someone would actually read it.

  I hoped.

  On Monday morning, I crawled out of bed and stumbled into my training clothes. Another sleepless night had left me exhausted and grumpy, and as I dragged myself to my morning workout, I resolved to set my differences with Erik aside. We may not have been on the same page, and he may have behaved like a grade-A jerk, but I was too tired to hold on to this level of anger any longer. I could be right, or I could be rested.

  I was choosing rested.

  Erik usually met me in outbuilding two at seven a.m. By ten after, I’d stretched and chosen my weapon from the rack on the wall. By quarter after, I’d run through the warmups and was staring out the window. What was keeping my tutor? Surely, he hadn’t stood me up. He wasn’t vindictive—at least, not toward me.

  But after an hour he still hadn’t showed, and I was forced to return to the castle for my first class of the day. Maybe he’d overslept, or gotten held up by some pressing tribal business—though what could be pressing at seven a.m. on a Monday, I did not know. Whatever had happened, I told myself Erik’s absence was a good thing. The more time I had to cool down, the less likely I was to rip Erik’s head off for being a grade-A jerk twice now.

  My steps were heavy as I trudged up the stairs to my room, traded my sword-fighting gear for my exploring text, and headed to Professor Kristensen’s classroom. Erik probably had a perfectly good reason for blowing off our morning training. And if he didn’t . . . well, we’d deal with that later.