“Agreed,” added Selby.
“This is difficult work, Ingrid. And I don’t mean just the digging.” Hagen frowned at her hard, his eyes narrow and his mouth set in a straight line.
“I know,” she said. “I understand what it means, but I want to help these people find peace. Don’t you dare treat me like a child.” She looked him in the eye, her jaw tight.
“Fine. We’ll dig first, then gather the bodies.” He and Jorg had found shovels, and he handed her one, then they walked over to a large, open area of flat ground. Hagen dragged his shovel in a large rectangle. “We’ll start with this and see if it’s enough.”
They spread out and jammed their shovels into the cold ground.
Hours later, Ingrid’s arms were wobbly, and her hands could barely straighten from gripping the handle of the shovel. Selby hadn’t fared much better.
They had buried all of the people they could find. There were twenty-three of them, all in a row.
The four friends stood at the side of the mass grave, and Hagen said a prayer to plead the gods to open the doors to the place of the dead and let them find peace.
12
It was growing dark by the time they finished, and there wasn’t time to move away from the village to sleep. A goat pen they had searched earlier still had usable straw, so they bedded there for the night.
Ingrid didn’t sleep well, waking at the slightest sound. When she did sleep, her dreams were filled with images of bodies and fire. Smoke stung her eyes and choked her throat—swinging swords barely missed her head. Sweating and out of breath, she’d wake, peer around quickly, and relax when she found the comfort of her brother and friends nearby.
The latest time she woke, they slept peacefully as before, but fear continued to tingle the hairs on her arms. Moving as little as possible, she scanned her surroundings. By the corner of the building about ten feet away, she saw motion.
Reaching out her hand slowly, inch by inch, she touched Hagen.
He didn’t stir.
His face was turned to her, so she inched her finger from his arm to his nose. He batted her away as if she were an annoying fly. She touched him again. This time, his eyes opened.
She quickly put her finger to his mouth and mouthed, “Shhh.”
He squinted his eyes and silently asked, “Which direction?”
With the slightest of movement, she nodded over his head.
Wrapping his hand around the hilt of the dagger at his side, he pointed his eyes toward Ingrid’s knife for her to do the same. Deliberate and steady, he pretended to roll over in his sleep for a better look.
The intruders weren’t fooled, and slunk from their hiding position around the corner.
Hagen and Ingrid both jumped to their feet, calling to the others. Wolves as big as ponies stalked closer, with bared canines and bright, hungry eyes.
Jorg rolled on his shoulder and came up on one knee, axe in hand, while Selby crouched with a spear in hers. Hagen was slightly in front of Ingrid, and Selby moved to Ingrid’s side behind him. Jorg positioned himself with Hagen, in front of the girls.
Ingrid rolled her eyes at his protective move. He needs to get over this, I can take care of myself, thank you very much.
Ingrid startled when Jorg darted a glance back at her and grinned.
What was that for?
No words were spoken, but with a spurt of speed, Hagen and Jorg dashed forward to engage the wolves, while Selby fanned to the right.
Confused at whether to follow the boys or stay with Selby, Ingrid lost her grip on her knife, and it fell to her side, just out of reach. Dropping to her hands and knees, she snatched it up and scrambled toward the back of the pen. In the darkness beyond her vision, she smelled musty, wet fur.
Coming toward her were a pair of glowing, yellow eyes.
A loud growl rumbled from deep inside the wolf’s chest, and drool hung from wicked-looking teeth that were longer than Ingrid’s fingers.
In one silent motion, the wolf jumped.
Diving to the side, she rolled away from its snarling jaws and flung her arm straight up from the ground, her knife meeting the shoulder of her assailant.
The vibrations rocked her entire arm, and she couldn’t pull the knife free.
Refusing to lose the gift from Jorg, she held onto its handle, and the wolf pulled her to her knees as it struggled. The beast yelped in pain as it yanked itself free, then backed away, keeping his eyes focused on Ingrid.
When their eyes met, Ingrid froze, every muscle locked and immobile. Panic bubbled in her center as she realized how vulnerable she was, standing there in the middle of the melee. Then images flashed through her mind, one after another. The fight still persisted in her peripheral vision, but ahead of her stood a man, not a wolf. His eyes were glaring and angry as he bled from his shoulder.
“Who are you?” Ingrid yelled at him, but the image dissipated.
The wolf was still there. It lowered its head and prepared to lunge at her. When it sprang, Ingrid dodged and added a long slice along its side to the still-bleeding shoulder injury.
Yelping, the wolf fell to the ground, its sides heaving. Seconds later, it staggered to stand, turning to face her once more.
Suddenly appearing by Ingrid’s side, Selby raised her spear, readying to throw it at the injured animal.
“No, don’t!” Ingrid pushed the wooden shaft to deflect it as Selby let go.
“Why did you do that?” Selby kept her eyes on the wolf as she yelled at Ingrid.
“We need to keep it alive,” she said calmly.
Hagen and Jorg rounded the corner meeting up with the girls. Before they could rush the creature, Ingrid moved in front of them.
“We need to keep this one alive, apparently,” Selby answered.
“Why?” Hagen sounded as confused as Selby.
“Ingrid doesn't think it's a wolf.”
Worry lines creased Jorg’s forehead as he turned to Ingrid. “Is this true?”
“We’re not facing an animal . . . it's a man in wolf form,” she told him.
“I know a way to find out.”
Moving faster than any of them had seen him, Jorg reached the wolf and pinned it to the ground with his knee at its throat. Blocked by Jorg’s back, Ingrid screamed when she saw him bring his knife down on the wolf.
The three friends stared in shock as Jorg stood holding what looked like a torn cloak made of wolf skin, while a man lay curled up on the ground at his feet.
Turning to the group, he threw the cloak to the side and pulled the man to his feet. “It looks like Ingrid was right.”
Ingrid felt numb. Her skin was cold and clammy, and she did not understand what to do next. Standing before them was the man she’d seen in her mind—the man who, seconds earlier, had been a wolf.
“We need to tie him,” she croaked, needing too much effort to get the words passed her throat.
Why is this happening? What is causing all these beasts to surface?
Then, breathing hard and needing to get away, Ingrid turned on her heel and walked out of sight, around the corner. Once hidden, she bent over and wretched.
They had eaten little in the last few days, so only the acid taste of bile passed her lips.
A hand lifted her hair away from her face and held it for her while she heaved.
When nothing more would come, Ingrid wiped her mouth and stood upright.
Selby let go of her hair and rubbed her back. “Feel better?”
“No.”
"I wouldn’t either."
“I need something to rinse out my mouth.”
“This way, I know what you need.” Selby took her by the hand and led her back to the goat pen where they’d slept. Picking through the pile of supplies they had gathered, she found a wine skin. “Here, drink this.”
Without concern for what the blackened pouch might contain, Ingrid pulled the cork and took a long draw. The bitter taste made her cough, but once past the first couple of swallows, she
found it more pleasant. Warmth flared against her raw throat and wound its way to her stomach, spreading through her insides.
“That’s enough. You need to take it slow.” Selby raised her eyebrows as she pulled the leather flask away from Ingrid.
Feeling instantly relaxed, Ingrid plopped to the ground and sat with her legs straight out and her arms slack on her thighs.
“Hmm, that might have been a mistake.” Selby crouched in front of Ingrid and rubbed her arm, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.
“I’m okay. What am I supposed to do, Selby? How do I know these things? That wolf was—is—a man!” She threw her hands in the air and let them fall again into her lap. “This is too much.” She closed her eyes and shook her head back and forth, as if she could erase her surroundings.
Footsteps sounded behind her, and she heard the rustling of straw as Hagen and Jorg sat down on either side of her, leaving enough space so that no one touched.
“What did you give her?” Hagen asked as he looked up at Selby.
“Wine. Want some?”
“Sounds like a great idea.” Taking the flask, he drank deep before passing it to Jorg, who followed his lead.
Ingrid intercepted it as Selby was about to take it back, and downed several more swallows. All three of her companions reached out to take it from her and voiced their concern.
“NO.”
“Whoa!”
“Wait! Oh, Ingrid.” Selby pried the nearly empty flask out of her hands and put it out of reach. “You’ve had enough.”
“It doesn’t matter. I think I’m going crazy, anyway.”
“You’re not crazy,” Jorg sighed. “You were right. That beast was a man, under some kind of mask or veil. How did you know?”
“I have no idea!” She threw her arms up and let them fall into her lap again as she squealed. “I saw him in my mind. As a man—like he wanted me to see him inside my head. I don’t know how that’s possible.” She closed her eyes and shook her head, letting it droop to her chest.
Her breathing slowed, and she relaxed.
“Ingrid? Did you fall asleep?” Jorg asked.
Tilting her head at him, her eyes glittered, and she smiled a sleepy grin. “No. No-ot ye-et,” she sang.
“I see. I think you should. We can talk more in the morning.” Jorg put an arm around her in an attempt to help her lay down.
“You are so handsome,” Ingrid said as she reached up and touched his jaw with one finger while snuggling into his arm.
“You need to sleep,” Jorg said gently, trying to keep a straight face.
Selby and Hagen both snickered. Ingrid heard them, but didn’t care.
“Where is your dimple?” she asked, drawing her brows together and pushing out her bottom lip.
Jorg closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, still trying not to smile, while his mouth tugged at the corners to defy him.
“I want to see it.” Ingrid put her finger on Jorg’s cheek where the dimple hid.
He lost his battle and grinned at her, causing her to giggle.
“There it is!”
“You really need to rest.”
“Oh-kay.” She clutched the fabric of his shirt, pulling herself closer to him, and laid her cheek on his chest before closing her eyes.
Hagen stood, putting his hand on Jorg’s shoulder. When his friend looked up at him, he said, “Remember, she is my little sister.” He winked. Walking away to check on their captive, he snickered under his breath, and motioned for Selby to follow him.
Jorg closed his eyes and shook his head, then held Ingrid a little closer, shuffling them both backward until he could lean against the side of the pen.
Ingrid wasn’t quite asleep. She could hear the others talking, but she was too preoccupied with the strong muscles next to her cheek, and the bicep under her hand.
With her wine-induced courage, she drew in a deep breath to fill her senses with the grassy pine scent surrounding her before sleep pulled her away.
Cold crept into every crevice of Ingrid’s body. A pre-dawn fog spread across the ground. Opening her eyes, she saw nothing but a white mist surrounding her, and for a moment, she wondered if she’d died. The smell of straw and the lumpiness under her back made her hope she hadn’t.
I expect a much softer and more comfortable place to lay down in the afterlife. A noise assaulted her ears, and she smiled. The gods could not be so cruel as to force me to listen to Selby’s rattling snores for all eternity. How did I get here, though?
For an instant, she felt a sliver of panic as she struggled to find her memories. There had been arms around her, a soothing hand rubbing circles on her back, then she must’ve fallen asleep. Panic rose up again as she pleaded with her subconscious to tell her it had been her brother or Selby who had comforted her, but she knew it wasn’t—she was keenly aware of Jorg’s presence, as his face flashed before her eyes. The last thing she’d seen before laying her head against his chest and closing her eyes was his hand coming down and brushing the hair away from her face.
Sensations tingled in her chest while something skittered around in her stomach. Mortified, she remembered the events before she slept.
What in Freya’s name are these feelings? This can’t happen—not now, in the middle of all that’s going on. No matter how cute that dimple is. Oh, I remember telling him that! You need to get a hold of yourself, stupid girl!
How she was going to face him again, she didn’t know. She was sure he would think she was the biggest baby. Before she could continue her thoughts, she heard a rustle of straw, and froze.
“How are you feeling, Ingrid?”
She slammed her eyes closed as she heard Jorg’s whisper. Maybe he’ll think I’m still asleep.
“I know you’re awake,” he said with a quiet chuckle.
“I’m fine,” she whispered.
The air between them felt alive with an unseen energy. She could tell her breathing was louder than it should be because her chest was so tight, and she could barely get any air into her lungs. After a few minutes of silence, she relaxed. His presence near her felt comfortable.
“Thank you,” she whispered, needing him to know she knew he had helped her.
Without a word, he threaded his fingers through hers. A smile betrayed her resolve, and she drifted off to sleep again in complete peace.
The sound of someone clearing their throat made Ingrid’s eyes pop open with a start. Turning her head toward the sound, she saw the smiling eyes of Selby staring at her. The fog still hovered around them, but had lightened with the early rays of morning.
Wordless, but with a devilish grin, Selby moved her eyes down to the hand lying on Ingrid’s stomach.
Was he always laying this close?
She looked back at Selby and rolled her eyes, trying to make it seem like it was no big deal, and Selby’s eyebrows almost reached her hairline. She wasn’t going to get out of this quietly. Her friend would have all kinds of comments, if she knew her. The best she could hope for was to deal with it as quickly as possible and move on.
Maybe just a minute longer.
As she finished the thought, Jorg’s fingers tightened their grip on hers ever so slightly. Again she was struck with the feeling that he had somehow perceived her unspoken thoughts. That sent a shiver of unease through her whole body.
Ignoring Selby, Ingrid turned her head as little as possible until she could see Jorg out of the corner of her eye. He lay on his side, facing her, with his free arm folded under his head, and the hint of a smile on his face.
She suspected he was awake and enjoying her embarrassment.
Frustrated by that, and the little snickers bubbling up from Selby, she tried to roll away from the muscled arrogance holding onto her. She removed her hand, but his tightened even more when she rolled, and he followed closer as if to snuggle tighter together.
That brought a loud snort and cackle of laughter from her so-called friend before she could get her hand up to cover her m
outh.
This ends now.
She jumped up and exclaimed that it was time to get and up and get moving for the day. The words came out much louder and higher-pitched than she’d intended, causing heat to rise in her cheeks, and she wanted to find a place to hide.
That was more than Selby could handle, and she burst into a roaring laughter, doubling over on herself and choking from lack of air. Jorg rolled over onto his back, put both hands behind his head, and smiled at Ingrid, making her face flare hotter.
Stomping off to find privacy, she almost tripped on Hagen, who’d started to sit up. His hair sticking up, he wiped the drool from the side of his mouth, confused about the abrupt awakening. Selby laughed harder, but rushed after Ingrid, still snorting in humor.
Ingrid pretended to be looking for firewood, wanting to be away from everyone for as long as possible.
“Ingrid!” Selby halted her mid-stride with an intensity to her voice that no longer held any humor. “Don’t go that way,” she said much softer.
In the fog, she’d had no sense of direction, but she instantly understood. Her whole body shook as she walked toward Selby. “Is he still tied up?”
“Yes. Let’s go back. There’s no way we’ll be able to get a fire going in all of this mess,” waving her hand around at the fog.
She knows me too well.
“We’ll have some biscuits and salt pork before we deal with that.” Putting her arm around Ingrid and leading her back to camp, Selby was the perfect best friend again, knowing exactly what to do without making Ingrid feel stupid or weak.
By the time they got back, the boys had packed up the blankets and pulled out the cold food that was to be their breakfast. Without looking at Jorg, Ingrid picked up a couple pieces of dry bread, and sat down on the straw to eat.
Her stomach wobbled and protested against the food; eating wasn’t such a good idea. She nibbled a few bites, then stored the rest for later.
Breakfast took only minutes, and then they sat quiet. Ashes and the smell of smoke floated in the air as a reminder of the day before. The morning’s antics aside, no one wanted to talk about what they should do with the man-wolf tied around the corner.
The Viking Maiden Box Set Page 13