Viking Conspiracy

by S. T. Bende

  “They’re poison blow darts?” I balked.

  “Ja.” Erik slipped a hat over his long, blond mane. “They’re capped, but still. Don’t fall on that arm.”

  “Wasn’t planning on it,” I muttered.

  I shot a side-eye at the needles sticking out of my own jacket. Then I hurriedly—and cautiously—donned my coat, hat, and fingerless gloves, while a trainer loaded Deathknell up with an array of weapons. Some I’d seen, some I hadn’t. I definitely wasn’t throwing that axe at anyone. Or the spear.

  Gulp.

  “The trainers pack the dragons according to the rider’s weapon strengths and dominant hand. So you’ll find your regulation weapons in the net on your left,” Erik called from his stall. “Sword, bow and arrow, and one of those sticks we were working with this morning.”

  “Excellent.”

  “The ones you’re less familiar with are on the right. I brought the crossbow here when Valkyris East failed to report—just a hunch. So that one’s in the net on the right, as well. But you shouldn’t need to access that side unless things get really bad and you lose the weapons you’re comfortable with.”

  “I see the quivers—we’re packing a lot of arrows. How do we ignite them?” I buttoned my jacket all the way to my neck.

  “Flaming arrows are one of our standard tools—you’ll find sets with accelerant-soaked heads in your dominant hand net,” Axel called over. “Before you set your bow, have your dragon breathe on them. Just be careful not to ignite multiple quivers at once . . . or be prepared to shoot really fast. Your call.”

  “Got it.” I pulled the fur-lined hood over my head. “I’m ready.”

  Except that I wasn’t. I’d never ignited anything mid-air. Or flown into war with an army of dragons. But I loved Erik. I loved my friends, my home, and all that Valkyris stood for. And I was going to do everything in my power to make sure it not only survived, but thrived.

  It was time to Viking up.

  I straightened my spine, stepped into Deathknell’s pen, and climbed onto the leather saddle on her back. When the trainer handed me her reins, I guided her out of her stall and into the frosty air. I pulled the bow from my net, slung it over one shoulder, and attached a quiver to the hook on my jacket. When Axel, Erik, and the rest of the airborne team emerged from the Dragehus, I put on my game face and awaited my orders.

  “Erik, your team has more ground to cover so I want you to go first. Saga, Jax, and I will give you a minute’s head start, then head north to overshoot the ships. We’ll meet at the rendezvous point and lay siege to those bacraut before they ever know what hit them.”

  My internal translator didn’t have a read on that word, but the self-satisfied smirks that lit up the rest of the riders’ faces let me know that Axel had delivered a real zinger.

  “Ja!” One of the riders threw his fist up.

  Erik’s dragon moved up alongside mine. “Give ’em Helheim,” he murmured.

  “You know I will.” I shot him a grin, and he treated me to an unfairly sexy wink. But the next moment he was gone, leading his team into the air and disappearing over the mountains.

  Axel, Jax, and I waited sixty seconds before taking off after them. We changed course just over the mountain range, doubling back to the east and heading due north. The wind picked up as we flew higher, and I lowered my torso to the saddle, letting Deathknell’s neck divert the gusts away from my face. Even though it was nearly nightfall, we were careful to avoid flying over the major settlements. We weren’t yet sure which tribes had sided with our enemies, and we didn’t want anyone alerting them to our whereabouts. The element of surprise was our biggest weapon.

  Well, that and the six fire-breathing dragons currently moving on Ragnar’s ships.

  In and out. This mission will be over before we know it.

  I silently guided Deathknell after Axel, looping in a half-circle as the sun disappeared and the stars began their nightly show. They twinkled against the midnight-blue sky, and I took a moment to admire their calming presence. For a split second, I wondered if my cousin was seeing the same stars, a thousand years in the future. And I wondered what she was doing right then—if she was studying, or going to a sorority event, or—

  “Saga! Fall back in!” Axel’s order pulled me back to the present—or the past, depending on how I looked at it. I quickly steered Deathknell into formation, shouting a breathless, “Sorry!” at Axel. If I ever wanted to see Olivia again—or anyone, for that matter—I had to survive this attack.

  And that meant giving all of my attention to the task right in front of me.

  With a nod I flew alongside Axel and Jax, hurtling through the sky toward a ship filled with Viking warriors.

  Skit was about to go down.

  The ships came into view long before our arrows could have reached them, thanks to the unexpected appearance of the northern lights. The winter had been so fierce, I’d only seen the phenomenon a handful of times since my arrival in Valkyris. And as much as I appreciated nature’s light show, its timing couldn’t have been more unfortunate.

  As Axel, Jax, and I attempted to sneak up on Ragnar’s ships, a green light burst across the formerly dark sky. It danced across the horizon, slowly making its way toward the war ships. Any doubt we’d had as to whether Erik’s team was on schedule was immediately obliterated as three dragons came into sharp, uncomfortably-illuminated, view.

  This was not good.

  “Look.” I pointed to the approaching dragon team. “If we can see them, Ragnar’s men sure as hell can.”

  “New plan.” Axel grimaced. “Pick up the pace and fire. Fast.”

  “On it.” I urged my dragon forward and pulled a handful of arrows from my quiver. Then I called to Deathknell, instructing her to flame. She turned her long neck around and blinked at me with uncomprehending yellow eyes. Reasonable. I’d never asked her to shoot fire at me before.

  “It’s for the arrows,” I explained.

  Her eyes narrowed, and she angled her head to my right. She fired a burst backward, sending my heart leaping for my throat. Thankfully, she was a decent shot—the fire blasted right past my body, allowing me to stick my arrows out for ignition. I angled my quiver away from my torso, tucked all but one of the flaming arrows into it, and pulled my bow from my shoulder. Gripping tight to my dragon with my knees, I took aim at Clan Ragnar’s ships and let my weapon fly.

  Thwack!

  Despite the distance, the arrow’s impact on the wooden ship resonated in my ears. Without bothering to see whether retaliation was imminent, I sent another flaming arrow at the wood. And another. And another. Beside me, Axel and Jax were doing the same, so a sea of blazing arrows rained from the green-and-blue light show in the sky. It must have been a spectacular sight—the colors playing off each other, bursts of brilliance illuminating the otherwise dark night. If we’d had a film of this moment, I probably would have watched it over and over, taking in the colors, the dragons, the fleeting thrill of victory.

  Until Ragnar fired back.

  “Divert!” Axel cried out as a wave of arrows burst from the sea.

  Deathknell dove so sharply that I was thrown off balance. I clung to her neck with one arm, angling the remaining flaming arrows away from my body with the other. She circled lower, avoiding a second wave while getting me near enough to fire a closer-range shot. I drew one of my arrows from the quiver, set its course, and released. Its flaming head tore into the chest of one of Ragnar’s men, eliciting a cry that echoed across the otherwise silent-night.

  I didn’t have time to process the fact that I’d just shot a man. Chaos erupted on the boat as warriors scrambled to extinguish their burning comrade. My team took advantage of their momentary distraction, firing another series of arrows and lighting up two more warriors. The second boat went on the offensive, sending wave after wave shooting up at us. Deathknell dove and diverted, circling in a dizzying pattern that left my stomach churning. All the while, I clung tight to her belly with my knees, ke
eping my arms free to rain arrows down on the now-smoldering boat beneath me. The first boat was completely out of commission, its warriors too focused on their flaming ship—and friends—to pose any kind of a threat. But the second boat was fierce in their determination to destroy us. And as Deathknell dodged another wave of arrows, a cry ripped from my throat.

  “Arugh!”

  It took a moment before I registered the pain. Agony exploded inside my right calf, and I released my grip on the saddle to clutch my leg. When my fingertips brushed against the tip of an arrow lodged firmly inside my body, I tried not to scream.

  Oh, God. Oh, God, oh, God. What do I do?

  “Axel?” I cried. “There’s an arrow in my—arugh!”

  I released my hold on my leg and pressed myself against my dragon as Deathknell dove again, this time spiraling away from what looked suspiciously like an axe.

  “Pull up!” Axel ordered. “Get out of range until we can regroup!”

  He didn’t have to ask me twice. I tugged on Deathknell’s reins and we shot for the sky, flying far enough from Ragnar’s one functional warship that they couldn’t throw axes, or fire arrows, or hurt us in any way.

  I hoped.

  “Saga, where’s the arrow?” Axel pulled up alongside me.

  I pointed to my calf. I was in too much pain to speak.

  “Skit,” Jax swore from my right. “You got hit?”

  I nodded again.

  “Jax, continue the assault but do it from a distance—we’re not going to be able to cover you for a minute.” Jax saluted, and Axel turned his attention to me. “Saga, I’m going to remove it. Just so you know, it’ll hurt like hell.”

  “It already does,” I ground out.

  “Check your left chest pocket—there should be a piece of cloth in there. Once I remove the arrow, wrap it tight around your calf to stop the bleeding.”

  “Awesome.” I groaned as I withdrew the material.

  “You ready?” Axel flew just below my dragon, close enough that he could reach up to touch my leg. I pressed my chest to Deathknell’s saddle, wrapping my arms around her neck and holding on as much for comfort as I was for support.

  “Just do it already,” I gritted.

  “Okay, on three. One.” He pulled. Hard.

  Skit!

  “You said three! Arugh!” I shrieked as a fresh surge of agony ripped from my calf. “Holy mother of—”

  “It’s out,” Axel soothed. “But it’s bleeding. Wrap it, fast.”

  Ignoring the complete and total misery ebbing from my leg, I tied the cloth around my wound. The fabric quickly turned red as my calf throbbed painfully, but after a few seconds, the intensity lessened and I was able to breathe again.

  Barely.

  “You good to engage or do you need a few minutes?” Axel asked.

  “I could use the distraction,” I called back. “But if I black out and fall off my dragon, try to catch me, okay?”

  Axel’s dimple popped. “On it. Just stay on my flank, and fire when you’re ready. The blaze team’s ready, so this should be short.”

  Blaze team?

  I glanced to the west where three massive dragons glowed beneath the northern lights. Erik and his riders tore toward Ragnar’s ships, racing against time to destroy the second ship before it destroyed us. When they were within range, all three dragons opened their mouths and sent columns of fire at it. Jax’s dragon dove out of the way just in time to avoid being singed, while Jax fired arrows into the chests of two of Ragnar’s warriors.

  My nostrils flared as the air filled with the scents of charred wood—and flesh. I wasn’t used to being this close to death, and whether it was the noxious smell or my recent loss of blood, I didn’t handle it in a very Viking way.

  “You all right?” Axel called. “You’re swaying.”

  “I’m fine.” I shook myself. “Let’s end this thing.”

  Axel shrugged, pulling back to hover alongside me. “You’re sure?”

  “Do it, Andersson.”

  The dimple appeared again, and Axel nocked an arrow in his bow. “I’ll follow you.”

  I prepped my weapon, ignored the surge of pain in my calf, and gave a mighty haw.

  Deathknell lurched forward, diving for our target. She flew so fast that wind pelted my face, the night chill practically freezing my eyeballs. I squinted through the pain and released a series of shots that felled three warriors, while Axel took out another two. We pulled up as Erik’s team made a second pass, and repeated our rotation two more times. Before long, Clan Ragnar’s warriors were all dead, drifting to sea aboard blazing ships in an extremely surreal Viking funeral.

  A Viking funeral I’d helped create.

  I leaned over Deathknell’s side, clung tight to her neck, and tried not to throw up.

  I allowed myself exactly half a minute of freak-out. It was definitely warranted, seeing as I, Saga Skånstad, had taken a life. Many lives. Sure, it had been kill-or-be-killed—or let my entire tribe be killed. And sure, this may have been a fairly common thing in this world. But I hadn’t been born here. And where I came from, killing a man—even if it was to save the lives of the people I loved—was a really big deal.

  How do I ever get used to this?

  My leg still throbbed. But with the threat of imminent death now vanquished, I looped around to where Axel and Jax hovered above the water. When Erik joined us, he immediately turned his attention to me.

  “You’re injured,” he assessed, eyeing the bandage at my calf.

  “I’ve been worse,” I reminded him. “What’s our next move?”

  “I take you to the healing unit, and—”

  “We don’t know the situation on the ground, and I want to help.” I shivered against a fresh gust of wind. “What’s our next move? As a unit?”

  Erik gave me a long look, the kind that clearly meant you and I are going to have a talk about your safety, missy. But he turned to Axel. “Your call, Andersson.”

  Axel nodded. “We survey the area to make sure there aren’t any more ships, then go help the ground teams. Hopefully, they’ve taken care of the threat already. But if not, it never hurts to have an airborne unit.”

  With that, we gripped our reins and turned our dragons toward the mainland. As I swooped low over the water, a fresh wave of horror clenched my gut.

  “Oh, God. Erik!” I shouted.

  “What?” He looped around until he was level with me.

  “Their mast—it’s not Clan Ragnar’s.”

  “What?” Erik flew closer, getting as close to the burning ship as safety allowed. When he returned, he motioned Axel over, calling up to his friend as he flew. “It’s not Ragnar’s ship.”

  “It has to be,” Axel called back. “Ragnar attacked Valkyris East. Our scouts saw their ships approaching.”

  “Our scouts saw these ships,” Erik said grimly, “and they don’t belong to Ragnar.”

  “Then who the Helheim do they belong to?” Axel asked.

  My gut churned. Though the symbol atop the mast was quickly being consumed by flames, I recognized what was left of it from my inter-tribal relations lessons. This wasn’t good.

  “The ships belong to Bjorn,” I whispered.

  “There’s no way,” Axel frowned. “Bjorn’s warriors are nearly our equals—they’d never be defeated so quickly—not even by air strike.”

  “Then those weren’t their warriors.” Dread coursed through my veins, and I gripped Deathknell’s reins so tightly my knuckles cracked. “They were their slaves.”

  Erik’s eyes narrowed. “Why would Bjorn send that many thralls—highly valuable thralls—into battle? They had to know we’d send a strike team.”

  “They knew, all right. Those ships were a decoy.” My eyes widened as the realization hit me. “We just walked straight into a trap.”

  Chapter 23

  SIX DRAGONS AND THEIR riders hauled butt across Norway. My mind ran through every conceivable scenario as we flew toward Valkyris East—Bjo
rn had distracted the riders while they burned down the colony; they’d taken all residents captive and would hold them hostage until we revealed our location; they’d tortured the location out of someone, and were on their way to Valkyris right then; they—

  “We’re here. Circle and assess!” Axel ordered.

  I forced my doomsday visions from my head, høyre-ed Deathknell, and focused on the ground. There were definitely bodies scattered around, most of them clustered near Valkyris East’s entry point. Whatever battle had taken place, it hadn’t made it past the front quarter of the colony. The residences, training ring, and communal buildings seemed to be intact. And, from all appearances, the fight was over—vigilant Valkyris warriors stood over the bodies, around the perimeter of the settlement, and in front of the church. But if the primary conflict was resolved, and the secondary threat had been nothing more than a collection of likely-unwitting slaves . . . what kind of trap was this?

  One of the warriors waved from the ground. I glanced over at Erik, now flying directly beside me.

  “She’s giving us the all clear to land,” he said.

  “I see that.” I grimaced. “But I don’t trust it.”

  “Neither do I.” His lips pressed together in a tight line. “Axel, my team will land and assess. Keep your team in the air and watch for additional threats.”

  “Good idea. Saga, Jax.” Axel jutted his chin. “Follow me.”

  “Be careful,” I called as Erik dove for the ground. He raised one arm in a wave, and I shifted my attention to Axel. Pulling Deathknell around, I followed him and Jax in a slow circle around the colony. My eyes shifted from the ground to the sky, but I didn’t pick up on any additional presences—by air, ship, or land. We were safe.

  At least, for now.

  Erik waved from below, signaling we were clear to ground. Axel dove and scanned the area one more time before directing me to follow him. We landed in the field beside the church, where Erik stood, staring at the door. Even at a distance, I picked up on his worry. His shoulders were taut, his jaw clenched, and his hands had balled into fists so tight, the whites of his knuckles were clearly visible.