by Lee Savino
“We must be off. They are coming,” Leif said. I let him pull me close. His hands slid around me, his touch already familiar. “We will hide until we are sure the Grey Men will not follow us.”
“Grey Men?” I asked.
“They are corpses,” Brokk said. “Men one step beyond the veil of death, animated by a mage’s evil power.”
“How is that possible?” I whispered.
“He is an ancient king with magic of old.” Leif clutched me tighter, and I snuggled into his arms, my fingers gripping his smooth muscle. His scent surrounded me—a pleasing blend of woodsmoke and wild mint, with a hint of spice. “He has been defeated and locked in a near-death state, but over time found a way to fight. Like a spider drawing in his prey on the web, he sent his power out to create these Grey Men. They somehow convinced the friar to do his bidding. The Corpse King is coming back to life.”
“He’s found a new source of power and is coming after it,” Brokk said.
“What source?” I asked.
Brokk glanced back, his eye glowing with a yellow light. “You.”
Leif
Stop scaring her, I sent to my warrior brother with a frown.
She needs to know the truth. Out loud, he said, “We need to find water. The Grey Men do not like it.”
“There’s a marsh nearby.” We knew the terrain from our time staking out the abbey.
“It may be enough. But we’d better find a river, or better yet, a lake.”
Willow’s breath came in ragged gasps as we threaded through the woods. Brokk led, and I brought up the rear, touching her often to reassure her.
The thicket gave way to a ragged patch of reeds and muddy water. We went in, picking our way over the soggy terrain. The mud sucked at my boots, and I bit back a curse. If we were lucky, the swamp would be enough to deter the Corpse King’s servants.
Brokk stopped then turned with a finger to his lips.
More draugr ahead. The wind blowing in our face holds their scent. They’re hemming us in. Unless we cross the marsh, we need to hunker down and hope the Grey Men do not sense us. Brokk sounded brisk. We’d faced hopeless situations before. He stood aloof, away from me and the woman.
“We hide here until they pass and then continue on,” I said out loud for Willow’s benefit.
Brokk nodded. We all hunkered down for an uneasy wait. The sound of footsteps, a force of many men coming towards us, their stench on the wind. The beast leapt to the fore. I shut my eyes, willing it not to break free.
Leif?
I’m fine. I turned my head against the wind, and caught the scent of Willow’s hair. Such a small and lovely little thing, trembling beside us with a fierce expression on her face. She’d been through so much tonight, and remained brave. I had to hang on, for her.
We can fight, Brokk offered. From his brittle tone, he did not think it a good idea. Even if we did clear a path for our escape, letting our beasts out tempted danger.
There’s too many of them. I put a hand over my mouth and nose as a strong breeze blew up more of their stench. The Corpse King sent a great force.
He will do anything to possess his future brides.
A growl escaped me before I could stop it. Willow stiffened.
“Calm,” Brokk murmured to both of us.
From where we crouched, the road shone in the moonlight. The force of draugr came up the path, macabre soldiers marching with jerky motions. A few had spears and swords, but most had pitchforks and staffs, ordinary items made into weapons. Rank upon rank trod towards us. How had the Corpse King conjured up such a force, so fast?
Odin’s boots. They’re not Grey Men. At least, their skin is not grey.
I craned my head over the marsh grasses. As Brokk said, the force did not look as thin and sallow as the Grey Men we’d faced before. These were men of all ages, with ruddy skin and blank expressions, wearing the garb of villagers.
The silent ranks passed not a few paces from where we hid, over a hundred of them. Brokk’s intent face told me he was counting.
These draugr stink of blood, but not rotting flesh, I said, when more than half had passed.
They haven’t been dead long. Brokk sounded more grim than usual.
A chill went through me.
The ranks had thinned when Willow sat up. “Joseph!” The name burst from her lips.
I pulled her down. “Quiet, lass.”
But she struggled. “Wait. I know him from the village.” I clapped my hand over her mouth.
“Stop,” I hissed in her ear. She squawked in distress, loud enough to alert the enemy and arouse the beast.
Brokk put his face close to hers, his expression stern enough to make a man cower.
“You will be still. We are all in danger.”
She shook her head as much as she could with my hand over her mouth but stopped struggling.
“The man you think you know? It is not him. Joseph is gone. The Corpse King’s magic took his life and his mind and made him a tool of evil.”
With a muffled cry, she sagged against me.
Too harsh? Brokk asked me.
I shook my head. Her eagerness to help her friend might be our death. If the enemy didn’t march a mere few feet away, I’d put her over my knee and punish her. I shared this image with Brokk, and a corner of his mouth creased. Perhaps punishing her would be his role, if it enticed him to accept our mate.
Brokk
I glared at Willow until she dropped her gaze. Wolves abide by strict rules of dominance, and we both knew she ceded to mine. But she must not only recognize my rule. She must obey. If I’d already accepted her as mate, she’d be in for a punishment. Once we found safety, I’d take a strap to her backside until it blazed red...
Careful, one part of me chastened. You have played this game before. I was one of the few Berserkers who remembered the folly of love. It ended in sorrow.
The Grey Men had almost all passed.
Perhaps I would take a strap to her, for her punishment and my pleasure. My beast couldn’t wait to see her bared before us.
My cock perked up at the idea. I gritted my teeth.
“Little woman, you will obey,” I told her in a harsh whisper. “You will do as we say and be quiet.”
She shrank against Leif, and he put his arms around her. I turned from the pretty couple. Women always ran to Leif.
This is not the same, Leif said to me. We will share her in all things.
I shook my head. We couldn’t have this conversation while our enemies passed a few feet away.
Not if we cannot fight our way away from the Grey Men.
For a moment, I wished Leif and I weren’t bonded. If I had a choice, I should not share a woman, but the bond between us required we take the same mate.
You’re glaring at her again, Leif told me. I blanked my features.
At this point, Willow is more frightened of us than the Grey Men. Talk to her. Tell her what’s going on. Soothe her.
I did not have the gift for such sweet words. You do it.
She is to be your mate, as much as mine. Leif raised his chin.
The last of the Grey Men had marched on.
“Forgive me,” I said to the frightened girl. “I am used to giving orders and having them obeyed. We are hiding because the Corpse King sent his servants to get you. They are dead men. Animated souls.” The woman shivered. Leif put his arm around her.
“I don’t understand. What does he want with me?” she asked.
“He seeks all spaewives for his own. He desires your power. He had you contained in the abbey and planned to take you one by one, to consume your power by draining your blood—”
“Enough,” Leif interrupted. “Willow, listen to me. All you need know is you must stay with us and follow our lead.” We can explain the rest later, he sent to me.
I drew in a breath, inhaling the woman’s rich scent. At least the Grey Men hadn’t sensed her. Under the miasma of mud and the draugr’s stink, I smelled her heat, b
ut it was faint. I wished we were far away, back at our home or somewhere safe where we could explore her body’s wanton reaction to us.
“Let us go,” I commanded. Leif nodded and rose. He would carry the woman so we could travel at Berserker speed.
“You will be quiet,” I said to her. “We must travel past the village to escape.”
“We must take care,” Leif muttered. “There will be Grey Men everywhere.”
“Let us hope they will not expect us.”
I reached out to try to link to the pack, but the mental path felt blocked. I cannot reach the Alphas, I told Leif. The frown on his face told me he couldn’t, either.
The Corpse King has great power. His magic must disrupt the bond.
We must take care. We cannot survive long on our own. The beast already felt agitated by the presence of our enemy and aroused by our new mate.
We will survive, Leif responded. We have helped each other this long.
I grunted. The magic linking us saved our lives, even if I often resented it. It wasn’t like either of us had a choice.
I turned my thoughts to strategy. The rest of our brothers must be scattered. I fear our way home is blocked. If I were the Corpse King, I’d set an ambush on the route to the mountain and recover as many women as possible.
We cannot return, then. We must keep Willow safe.
I agreed. Leif lifted the woman in his arms, and she let out a soft yelp.
“Do we have to gag you?” I asked her.
She shook her head.
“Quickly, then.” I led the way up the road, dipping into the forest when we neared the abbey. Whatever cold mist had passed Leif’s hiding place seemed to have wilted the grass and plants in a wide circle. Even the trees looked brittle and aged, as if coated with a layer of frost.
Odin’s blood. Our detour would take us right through the village. Axe raised at the ready, I crept back to the road, expecting to see ranks of Grey Men waiting in the moonlight, a living barricade.
Well, not living, but a formidable barrier, nonetheless.
The wind picked up, and I sniffed it. A faint smell of blood, but no draugr.
“Stop,” I told Leif and Willow. “Let me go on alone.” Keep her safe.
Leif nodded, and I went forward. The scent of blood hung thick over each home, and quiet reigned throughout the village, from the rudest hut to the empty center square.
Tingles ran up and down my spine as the curse gathered energy for the Change. I’d been on battlefields before and felt the same oppressive silence. But something told me we hadn’t stumbled on the aftermath of a fight, but a slaughter.
My boot splashed into a great puddle of mud, and the scent of rust filled my nose. I stopped.
Stooping, I touched the pool in front of one dark house. My finger came away wet, but not with water.
Blood.
I went to the door. At my heavy tread, it creaked open.
With a wary hand, I pushed farther. Smoke filled the house, remnants of a dying fire. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, but once they did, I saw what I expected.
I closed the door and said a prayer for the dead within before striding from house to house, checking for signs of life.
Each house lay in darkness but for a few with dwindling fires. I knew now how so many draugr had appeared, almost out of nowhere. The cold scent still lingered—the Corpse King’s magic had swept through and claimed the minds of the able-bodied men. The Grey Men we’d seen were all villagers, changed. Before they left for the Corpse King’s service, they had killed everyone they’d leave behind.
“Odin’s eyes,” I muttered as I passed house after house littered with the dead. A few lay in doorways, some in the streets. Old ones, women, and children.
No one had survived.
Go around the village, I sent to Leif. Do not allow Willow to see this.
I checked the last house, but the slaughter was complete. Picking up a blanket, I covered the remains of a dead mother and child. “Go in peace,” I told them. If I had time, I would bury the bodies and call a witch to purify the area with salt and fire. But we had to keep moving before the Corpse King’s spells swept through again. I whispered a quick prayer, knowing it would not be enough to keep the dead spirits from lingering here, crying for justice.
I stepped out of the hut, eager to breathe air clear of blood and tainted magic.
Brokk, where are you? The scent of blood...the beast...I can’t...
Hold on, Leif!
I heard a slight cry and whirled in time to catch Willow in my arms. Too late; she saw the still and bloody arm of the woman, most likely severed when she flung it out to protect her child from the killing blow.
“No,” Willow sobbed, reaching for the dead woman’s hand.
“Come,” I grunted, lifting her. Her fingers clawed at my arms as I strode away. Leif, I’ve got her.
She would not stop struggling. Leif sounded tired and sad. I bit back my retort. The scent of slaughter brought out the beast. Leif struggled to maintain control.
I will carry her. Go ahead and scout for us. The Corpse King may have left a few Grey Men here to stand guard.
I turned my attention to the woman fighting to break out of my hold.
“Stop, I know her. Margaret. Joseph’s wife. We must bury her.”
“There’s too many. The whole village has been slaughtered,” I bit out, and cursed myself for telling her as sorrow contorted her face.
“No,” she moaned.
I forced her head down against my shoulder. “Close your eyes,” I barked. She sobbed against me as we passed the silent houses, the bodies in the blood-soaked streets.
Leif, quickly. We must get out of here.
You...go...
“Odin’s blood,” I cursed. Hang on. I dodged between homes, heading for the forest. We have our woman now. You must keep control.
In the shadows, Leif growled.
I leapt back. “Leif, it’s me.”
Brokk!
I ducked, and a spear flew over my head. The Grey Men had found us.
Leif charged out of the woods. I feinted and dodged again, but he ran past me to attack the advancing draugr.
Get her out. Go! A howl rang out, loud and haunting. Enough to send an ordinary man scrambling. The hunting cry of a Berserker.
I fled into the forest, crashing through the brush, Willow in my arms. She clung to me.
“Odin’s breath,” I muttered as I splashed into a swift-running stream. I followed it to its end and set Willow down, freeing a hand in case the Grey Men followed. Leif would make short work of the small group of men left to guard the village. I only hoped I could call him back when he’d finished killing. I should not leave him.
Willow leaned against me, her features fixed in silent horror. She did not cry out again.
I tucked her in tighter. When I touched Leif’s mind, I found red rage and madness, the tainted power of the Berserker curse.
Come back to us, I called, and sent him an impression of what I felt—the soft, lovely, and trembling body of a woman against mine. Our mate is waiting.
No answer. He battled both the Grey Men, and the beast, spitting out a disgusting mouthful of draugr flesh.
Willow sagged in my arms.
“They all…they’re all dead,” she mumbled.
She was weeping, and I didn’t know what to say.
“Do not grieve for them.” I gripped her, my voice savage. “They lived near enough to the abbey to know the friar mistreated you, and they did nothing.”
Her mouth opened and shut. Nothing came out.
“Be grateful the end was swift. It will not be the same for us, if the Corpse King catches up.”
She stared at me.
Come quickly, I called to Leif. I cannot do this alone.
“Odin’s staff,” I said out loud. Brushing her hair back with a clumsy hand, I smeared her skin with blood. Cursing louder, I bent and washed my hand in the stream and wiped the stain away.
Willow seemed frozen.
“You’re all right,” I told her. “We got out alive.”
“It was you,” she said in a horrified whisper. “You did it.”
“Willow, no.”
“You brought them on. We were fine until you arrived.”
She fought me. I let her, standing motionless while her tiny fists beat my armored chest.
I caught her wrists before she did damage to herself.
“Stop.” I growled. “You are not thinking clearly. We came to rescue you.”
“Liar. They’re all dead. You killed them—”
“The Corpse King killed them. He came for you. Do you understand? It is your magic, your flesh he desires above all. This—” I plunged my hand between her legs, cupping her sex. “This is what calls to him. Your scent when you are in heat.”
At my crude touch, she stilled, but it sickened me to manhandle her. I took my hand away.
“We saved you, Willow. You and your sisters at the abbey would be dead, or enslaved, if we had not come. We are trying to help you.”
She shook her head, mouth working with silent protest.
I shook her. If she panicked again and screamed, she might have the whole enemy force running to us. I had to make her see.
Brokk. Enough. Give her to me. Leif stepped from the shadows. His eyes shone with the beast’s magic, but he’d Changed back into the form of the man.
Leif? Are you sure?
He snarled and Willow cried out. “What is that?”
“It’s Leif,” I said, smoothing my hands down her thin arms. “He feels distress because you are in pain.”
“Leif?” she quavered, and my warrior brother came forward, his features human and handsome once more.
I relinquished my bundle and stepped back. To my surprise, Willow ran from me, threw her arms around Leif’s shoulders, and hugged him close.
After a pause, his arms closed around her. They still bore tufts of fur.
Leif...
I know. He adjusted his hold, pressing her face into his neck as she cried. Leif let out grunting, soothing sounds, more animal than man, but when I touched his mind, I found quiet. His rage had retreated.