Oracle Dreams Trilogy

by Teri Barnett

  Jorvik drew himself up and threw his entire body against the wall. The full force of his weight struck it and the momentum sent him sprawling backward. He stumbled as he found his footing again.

  “Maybe we need to call for Thor?” Asa said. “We could use some help and his hammer might break the spell.”

  “Not Thor!” Vala said. “Loki is who we need. The Trickster is just the one to know how to get in there.”

  “Enough of this talk!” Jorvik thundered. “I’ll not call on any of them to help us.” He began pacing. Of course, Morrigu did this on purpose. She wanted him to have to ask for help because she knew he despised her and her “family” of gods and goddesses. But she’d miscalculated: He’d give up the gold before he’d give her the satisfaction.

  Jorvik stomped off until he was about fifteen feet away from the opening. “Out of the way! All of you!” he shouted, waving his arm sideways. In a rage, he reached behind his head and unsheathed his battle sword. A shimmer of light ran along its length and coursed through Jorvik’s body as he drew on his birthright, the power of the Valkyrie. A roar escaped his mouth as he flung the steel shaft forward, straight at the opening. On impact, the magical shield shattered into a thousand pieces, revealing the contents of the cave.

  Jorvik strode forward and retrieved his sword, stopping just short of the entrance. Behind him, his fellow Vikings peered inside. There, just as described to them by Eugis, slept a man and woman. Two of the men started to rush past Jorvik, hands on the hilt of their swords. Jorvik held his arms out and stopped them.

  “No. This one is mine.”

  Carefully, he entered the grotto and took in the scene before him. Cold embers were piled between the sleeping pair. The man’s hand rested lightly on the young woman’s shoulder. Jorvik wondered at the intimate scene before him. Perhaps she was no longer a virgin after all? He crouched down and turned the girl over onto her back. Her head rolled to the side, her hair covering her face. Jorvik pushed back her hair, revealing her features. She was comely indeed and delicate, like a woodland huldra.

  “What do you see in there that you stay so long?” Asa called.

  Jorvik shook himself out of his reverie. He shoved his own hair out of his eyes and scooped up the woman called Maere. He righted himself and strode out of the cave.

  “Do we kill him?” Vala asked, nodding toward the interior of the grotto.

  “He has black hair.” Jorvik shook his head as he walked. “He could be Morrigu’s kin, for all we know. This might be another game arranged by the evil one. If Eugis wants him, he can get him himself or send that cursed goddess for him. Our bargain was for the woman only.”

  Jorvik handed Maere to Asa, then swung himself onto the back of his horse. Once settled, Asa handed Maere up and Jorvik settled her in front of him, a strong arm across her chest. Her head bobbed forward as she still slept the charmed sleep. Jorvik spun his horse around and reentered the forest as his men followed close behind.

  As he rode, Jorvik thought of the man they left behind, asleep in grotto. If he’s lucky, the wolves will have him—a better fate than being taken by Morrigu, to be certain.

  Chapter 21

  The Vikings stopped in a forest clearing about two hours ride away from the grotto and prepared to make camp for the night. Some of the men busied themselves putting together makeshift snares from bits of leather and fallen branches, while others tended to the horses. Jorvik carried Maere, still asleep, looking around him for a place to lay her. He found a great fir in their midst, and laid Maere on a bed of boughs and needles near its base.

  Jorvik stood back and considered the huge tree before him. Surely it is a grandmother, he thought, recalling the teachings of his native land. Yggdrasil, the great tree of life with roots deep to the center of the earth and branches that reached to the sun, must look the same. He inhaled the rich heady scent of pine tar, the scent of life. Or, at least, the scent of life as one who was young might imagine it to be—clean, fresh, full of promise.

  Behind him, Jorvik’s horse snorted and whinnied. He quickly spun around, his hand immediately on his dagger. He scanned the area but saw nothing. Then, overhead, a great flapping of wings drew his attention to the raven circling in the twilight sky. “Now what?” he muttered, watching in bemused silence as the creature landed in front of him. With a few steps, it shook off its bird form in the same bizarre dance he had witnessed in Eugis’s camp, revealing the goddess Morrigu herself.

  “What brings you here?” Jorvik gestured toward Maere where she still slept. “Are you checking on me to see if I was up to the task?”

  “Careful, Jorvik,” Asa said, as he and the others came forward. “She is not one to anger.”

  Morrigu glanced at the band of men. “Away with all of you.” She stomped her foot and they were pulled into the tree line as if by an unseen hand.

  The goddess returned her attention to their leader, staring hard at the Viking before her. “Do you really believe such mundane details interest me?” She stepped forward and ran a finger down the Viking’s arm. His eyes widened for a brief moment as he watched a trickling of blood follow the same course.

  “What is this?” He clasped his hand over the wound. “Do you curse me?” he asked, his voice a harsh whisper.

  “Is that fear I detect in your words, Northman?”

  Jorvik turned away from the goddess. “Any man—mortal or god—would be foolish not to fear you.”

  “What you say is true,” Morrigu said. “But I do not curse you this evening.” The goddess smiled, her full red lips glistening. “Could it be that I only wished to see you again?”

  Jorvik grunted. “Save your pretty words. They mean nothing to me.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why did Eugis send us to the cave with no direction as to how to unlock its secrets? Or did you not tell him of your spell?”

  “I told him. But I have no control over what he tells you.”

  “That I do not believe,” Jorvik said

  She looked past him to the sleeping girl. “It would seem to me you did fine.” Her silver eyes met his and she smiled again. “So, tell me fair Viking: When you found your way blocked, did your gods come to your aid? Given your scorn of all that is holy, I would imagine they were most amused to hear your entreaties for help.”

  “So that was the game, eh?” Jorvik stepped forward. Towering over the goddess by a head, he looked down at her. “I promise you no words of pleading ever passed these lips. No prayers were needed to help break your spell.”

  Morrigu frowned. “How then?” She crossed her arms in front of her and pouted. “How did you gain entry without the help of the gods? It was not to be so!”

  He squared his shoulders and drew himself up. “I defeated your spell with the faith I put in myself.” He rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. “And the faith I put in my skill with this.”

  Morrigu slowly nodded. “Clever man, aren’t you?”

  Jorvik grunted and turned away. He was stopped mid-stride. With a twirl of her finger, she lifted him into the air and spun him around until he faced her once more.

  “You will not turn from me so easily,” Morrigu said flatly, as she lowered him to the forest floor. “I am not through with you.” She looked at Maere. “I would have you know the girl will awaken soon. Your course of action must be decided before then.”

  “You know what I am about. It was you who instructed Eugis where she could be found. And you know he has gone on to Tintagel to make camp and I am set to meet him there.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, a sudden weariness filling him. “What game will you play with us now, Morrigu, soulless creature that you are?”

  Morrigu laughed and shook her head, sending her black hair dancing around her naked form. “Cast your runes. A new direction must be planned.”

  Jorvik grabbed her arm. Her laughter faded as her eyes went from his hand on her
to arm to his face. “I asked you a question. What game, Goddess? Would you betray Eugis?”

  “What is he but a passing amusement? Whether or not he gains his heart’s desire means nothing to me.” She pulled free of his grasp and presented him with her slim back. “You, on the other hand, know of true power. You know the power of my kind.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You are, at least in part, one of my kind.” In one slow seductive movement, Morrigu faced Jorvik and motioned for him to come closer. Through no will of his own he moved to stand before her. She pressed her bare breasts against his chest.

  Morrigu looked up at him, lips moist and parted. In an instant, his mouth covered hers in a fierce, deep kiss. Their breath mingled and Jorvik caught a glimpse into the goddess’s true nature. He now understood she was neither good nor evil. But what he had only guessed at before was most certainly true. The world of mortals was only a playground for her. Well, she would find he would not be played with so easily even if she did smell of moss, wind, and smoldering embers. Using his last bit of will, Jorvik pulled free of Morrigu.

  She laughed as her body began to fade with the falling of the night. “Cast your runes, Viking. And never forget.” She gestured toward the thin blood-covered scar on his arm. “You are marked. You are now mine.”

  Chapter 22

  A large man of the northern lands rode in on a cloud of thunder, his horse black, his yellow hair flying behind him. He raised a sword high and another man appeared beside him. Tall, thin, dark: The exact opposite of the Viking. His nostrils flared and his eyes glowed with bloodlust. A fire rose and billowed behind the two men. In one slow movement they reached for her, and each grabbed an arm. They pulled in opposite directions, as if to tear her in half. Her mouth opened in a silent scream…

  Maere jerked upright. Her heart racing, she opened her eyes and realized she was dreaming again.

  Or was she?

  As her eyes focused, she found, not fifteen feet away, a group of Northmen, with the same coloring and dress as the man in her dreams. They sat around a fire, their attention on a set of stones lying before them. Maere clutched her breast in panic, her eyes wide, until she realized they hadn’t noticed she’d awakened. She glanced around her. Where was Dylan mac Connall? Briefly, she studied the night sky. Where was she? She had to get away, to find Dylan, and discover what had happened.

  Panic seized her again. What if he was dead? She forced the thought away. Time enough for worry later. Ever so quietly, Maere slowly pushed herself to her feet and then ran into the cover of the forest.

  “What say the runes, Asa?” Jorvik asked. He leaned forward to catch a closer look at the runic markings in the firelight.

  Asa glanced up at his friend, his brow furrowed. He shook his head. “You won’t like it.”

  Jorvik laughed. “Many’s the time I haven’t liked what you’ve said.” He smiled warmly at the other man. “But I know of no truer rynstr. Now, tell us what you see.”

  “Inguz and Ansuz are here,” Asa said, pointing to the vertical lines of small flat rectangular stones. “And here we have Algiz and Vruz.” Asa closed his eyes and spoke quieter, running his index finger over the incised images. “According to this casting, there is trouble at your father’s camp. I can tell you Otto has tried to communicate with you on a spirit level. You haven’t heard him.” He opened his eyes and looked at Jorvik. “I fear greatly for his health, friend. He needs you.”

  Jorvik pushed himself to his feet and cursed. This was the goddess’s doing, of that he was certain. Strange, though, that he hadn’t sensed his father’s need, as he always had in the past. He supposed he was too intent on Eugis’s work. Or perhaps Morrigu had kept him from being receptive to unspoken messages.

  Morrigu had mentioned a change in course. If Jorvik headed toward his father’s location, it would take him at least a day or two in a more northerly direction, away from Tintagel and his meeting with Eugis. Assuming, that is, Otto was still at the same camp where Jorvik had last left him.

  He rubbed the dark blond stubble forming on his chin. Absently, he glanced over to where Maere lay sleeping. He slowly dropped his hand as his mind registered what his eyes saw—the nest of fir boughs was empty!

  “Grimnir! You were supposed to watch over her!” he shouted, taking long strides to where the girl had slept.

  Grimnir stood from his seat near the fire. “She was asleep. I sought only to hear Asa’s words,” he said, his eyes cast downward. “I am sorry.”

  Jorvik frowned. “Come, all of you.” He waved his arm, urging them on. “The man who returns her unharmed gets an extra piece of gold when we’re paid.”

  Murmurs of approval sounded out as the men jumped to their feet. Grabbing their weapons, they scattered into the woods in search of the girl with the red hair.

  Maere tried desperately to conjure up images of the last day or two, but none could be found. What in Heaven’s name had she been doing in a Viking camp? And where was Dylan mac Connall?

  She stopped under a tree and doubled over, struggling to catch her breath. Her hair, unbound, fell over her face as she gasped. She’d run like a woman possessed by the Devil when she awoke and saw the Northmen. And possessed she’d be if they found her. She’d heard all the stories of their plundering, of how they used the women they captured for their own pleasure and then sold them into slavery. For all she knew, the man who called himself her betrothed was either already sold off to another band or dead. And death might be the preferred of the two fates, if she were recaptured.

  Maere raised her eyes to the night sky and began to pray to God for protection when the moon slipped out from behind its cloak of gray clouds. It was full and fat and glowed eerily green. She took a deep breath. Nimue. The name came to her, easily and unbidden. But what did it mean?

  Off in the distance, an owl hooted loud and clear. Maere jumped, pulled up the hem of her dress, and began to run again.

  “She can’t have gone far,” Grimnir said as they pushed their way through the thick foliage. “We’ll find her.”

  Jorvik grunted. He had his doubts. The goddess had hinted she wanted nothing to do with the girl, that she had not a care for Eugis and his plans. But if that were true, how was it Maere had suddenly awakened and disappeared? It was unnatural, all of it.

  “Over here!” one of the men shouted. The others hurried in his direction. He pointed at the ground with his torch. Though faint, small human footprints showed in the firelight.

  Jorvik clasped the man’s upper arm. “If these belong to the girl, the gold is yours.” The man smiled widely as his leader took a step forward, motioning for the others to remain behind. He unsheathed his dagger and walked stealthily along the hidden path. He’d gone not twenty feet when he spotted Maere darting behind a large hawthorn bush. He moved forward, carefully so as not to frighten her away. Huddled with her back to him was the young woman. Jorvik reached down and grabbed a fistful of hair, jerking her around and to her feet. Maere cried out with the sudden pain. She swung her arms and kicked but the Viking easily sidestepped her attack. “Let me go!” she screamed. “You have no right!”

  Jorvik pulled her to him and wrapped his arms tightly around her, pinning hers to her sides. “You are mistaken. I have your uncle’s permission.”

  Maere tipped her head slightly, trying to look up to see the man who held her captive. It did no good. He held her so tight she could see nothing except the bared chest in front of her. She gasped for air, the musky scent of him overpowering her senses. “You are the one mistaken, sir.” She managed a whisper. “I have no uncle.”

  “You are not a good liar.” The Viking pushed her away from him and she stumbled backward, landing hard on the ground. “Do not ever be untruthful with me again.” He crouched down in front of her and ran the tip of his dagger along her breastbone. “Or I will kill you.”

  Maere dared not breathe. Footsteps echoed behind her and t
he glow of a torchlight illuminated the area, including the face of her captor. Oh, dear God! He was the one in her dream, the Northman who’d grabbed her. A scream froze in her throat. Who was the darker man she saw, the one who rode beside this one? Was it her uncle? Her head swam as she tried to steady her thoughts.

  She’d always believed Eugis as Magrethe had painted him, a benevolent man intent on rescuing his niece after the murder of her mother and father. Could it be true that he—not Dylan—was the evil she had sensed so tangibly, hovering over her, chasing her down like the hunter does the stag? Was Dylan telling the truth about her uncle?

  Anger stirred and Maere found her voice. “I do not honor the will of a man I haven’t seen in ten years,” she said. “Nor do I believe the words of a murderer!”

  Jorvik raised his eyebrows. “And who is it you claim I murdered, woman?”

  “My mother and father. Viking marauders killed them.” Her gaze swept over him in disgust. “Evil demons from the north, the same as you.”

  He took a step closer and Maere instinctively inched back until she hit something hard. Looking up, her eyes met another Northman’s—she glanced around and saw she was surrounded. She pushed herself to her feet. Her mouth worked a silent prayer for strength as she frantically searched for a means of escape.

  “To what god do you pray?” Vala asked. “What god do you think can free you from us?”

  Maere froze and looked hard at the man who had spoken to her. She squared her shoulders. “I pray to the one true God.”

  “She’s a Christian,” Jorvik said. “Raised by those nuns and priests we take such pleasure in visiting.”

  The men laughed.

  “Not with that wild spin of hair,” one of them called out. “Or with that body.” Grimnir grabbed Maere’s arm and pulled her forward. “Before the sun rises, I’ll have her praying to me!”

  They all laughed again. Visions of ancient martyrs meeting their demise arose in Maere’s mind. Sweet Mother, was this to be her fate? To be sacrificed as a whore to these men? To be used until there was nothing left of her, then abandoned to die? Well, she would not go down without a fight!