by Lee Savino
A scrape of the door told me another had joined us. Fenrir, the only warrior I’d met who was taller than Jarl. He moved to occupy the small space between the door and the hearth with us, and despite my promise to myself not to be intimidated, I took a step back.
“I don’t know where she went. She wasn’t here this morning.”
Jarl cursed. “Then we must find her quickly.”
“It was her choice to leave.” Rage bubbled up suddenly. Who were these warriors to storm into our home and take us, and keep us like pets?
I started to stomp past Jarl and he caught my arm.
“Juliet—”
“Don’t touch me,” I hissed. Instantly his hand fell away.
“Juliet,” he repeated, but Fenrir, his warrior brother, made a signal and Jarl fell silent. One untoward move, and I could report these warriors to the Alphas. They’d never be allowed close to me again, if they were allowed to live.
“We have to tell the Alphas,” he repeated. “She could be in danger.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Why would she leave?”
“The wolves,” Rosalind said. The blonde girl stood by the hearth, her eyes spitting sparks.
“What?”
“The missing ones. Fern knew them. The warriors took her from them before you brought her to the mountain.”
“That’s not…” Jarl trailed off, shaking his head. “I heard stories…”
“I was there,” Rosalind said sharply. “She tried to stay with them, even when they were raving like animals.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“The Corpse King attacked them, and their minds were lost,” Jarl said, his gaze faraway. “The Alphas ordered them driven off the mountain.”
“It’s their howls we hear at night,” Rosalind said. “They stay as close to her as they can.”
“That’s what Fern did, then,” I said. “She returned to her lost mates.”
18
Fern
Night fell and Svein kept the fire burning high. He went out into the snow again and again, returning with more sticks and logs for the fire, enough to last us until morning.
I was half asleep when a long lonely note broke out from the woods. Dagg’s howl filled the world, sad and achingly lovely.
Svein growled and pulled me further into the shadows at the back of cave, placing himself between me and the sound.
“Svein,” my hands sought him in the darkness. I found his face and held it. “He is not the enemy. He is your warrior brother.”
“Not anymore.”
“We must help him,” I whispered.
Svein’s fingers bit into my skin, but he stopped growling.
Finally, the howling stopped. Svein fetched the pelts from near the fire and built a bed for us in the depths of the cave. He pulled me down to him and wrapped his arms and legs around me. We lay in silence for a time.
“I had not heard your voice in a long time.” He tugged a lock of my hair. “Little red.”
“Fern,” I said. “My name is Fern.”
“You remember us?”
“Dagg and Svein.”
“We took you from the abbey and spent a day together on the run.”
“Three days,” I corrected. I turned to face him. His body was hard under mine. Every once and a while, a tremor went through him. Not weakness, though. Longing. My own body pulsed in answer.
I did not know how it was possible to miss someone I’d known only a few days out of a life spent apart.
“You came to find me,” Svein murmured. Perhaps he was wondering the same thing I was. “You do not remember our crimes.” His mouth tugged a rueful smile. “You do not remember the night the Corpse King attacked?”
I shook my head.
“Very well little one.” He settled me. “I will tell you.”
19
Svein
Then
The little red-haired one lay in my arms. She did not speak but looked about with wide eyes. As soon as we caught her scent, we’d known she was for us. We had promised not to frighten or rush her, but to woo her slowly. Above all, we would remember our honor.
Besides, it was no great hardship to hold such a beautiful creature, to speak softly to her and feed her from our hands. By the time we reached the mountain, we would have her trained to our touch.
Even now she looked about boldly, and when Dagg offered her meat she did not flinch or shy away. I stroked her hair as she ate, reveling in the shining locks, the fiery color of leaves in the fall. She was a shy thing, used to hiding. When the mist claimed us she’d been so afraid, trembling. It took a half day to coax her from that place of terror.
“Soon we will be home,” Dagg told her. “We’ve built a lodge to live in. It’s been a long time since we’ve had one, but it is time. We are looking forward to staying there, with our mate.”
“We will have to get used to doing chores,” I said. “Chopping wood for the fire. Hunting for meat to feed our mate. Tilling the land for her to sow seeds.” I sifted my fingers through her hair. We had not told her yet that we intended to claim her as mate.
“Yes,” Dagg said. “Perhaps we should cut a window in the lodge wall.”
“A window?”
“Our mate might want to see the outside.”
“What do you think, little red?” I asked, turning the girl’s face to mine.
She bit her lip and nodded.
Dagg smiled. “A window it is. Finish your meat. The sooner we leave, the sooner you will see your new home.” He rose to scout ahead and returned. “The mist is clearing. We should go.”
We took turns carrying our red-haired captive. Not once did her feet touch the ground.
When my turn came again, I hitched her closer and she grabbed my cloak with her small hands. She was so tiny and precious, I marveled that we’d been blessed with such a gift.
The way grew dark, the mist swirled. Our little dove whimpered.
“Do not fear,” I murmured into her hair. “We will keep you safe always.”
As soon as I made the promise, a horrible sound broke in the distance.
I ducked behind a boulder, holding the shivering woman close.
“Some of the pack is ahead,” Dagg reported. “They’re being attacked.” He drew his weapon. “Run.”
I ran, my treasured bundle held tight in my arms. Branches scraped at us and I did my best to shield her. The monster within fought to burst from my flesh. I gritted my teeth against the Change.
Foul winds swept over the earth. Draugr poured from the trees—the risen dead, animated by magic to walk as servants of the Corpse King.
The monster was close now. It was hard to hold back. Only the woman kept the beast at bay.
Ahead, Dagg roared. I could wait no longer. I boosted the woman into a tree and ran to the fray, slashing the corpses, laughing wildly with battle lust. The beast longed for blood even as my stomach churned at the draugr’s stench and the sick taste of their rotting flesh.
Ahead were a group of Berserkers fighting. They stood in a circle, protecting their women in the center as the corpse soldiers pressed in. Dagg and I stood back to back, routing and fighting the enemy.
The woman stood on a high branch, safe from any undead hands. We were almost to the other Berserkers side when a skeleton appeared, riding the mist and wind. “He’s directing the storm!” Dagg snarled at the Corpse King made flesh.
The ground rippled as bones flew from the earth, knitting together with terrible magic. More draugr formed in midair, malformed shapes that could not possibly move except as the living dead.
The women screamed. One of the Corpse King’s servants stood shaking the tree where she hid. I could not stop the monster bursting from my skin.
The Berserker rage claimed my mind and I knew nothing, felt nothing, saw nothing but red.
Dagg
Red. Everything red and shadow. A blood tinged world I cannot escape. Something moves in the darkness, lumbering and snuffing on the hunt.
A monster lurking in the dark. That is what I’ve become.
A light pierces my world. A fire in a cave. The beast doesn’t want to get close. I barely remember when I sat at a fire and conversed like a man. That life is long gone now, the humanity I had, a dream.
And yet I find myself close to the cave. Two voices, one high, one deep. I push closer as the branches part. A scent waits for me, dancing on the snow, delicate. A woman. Her voice coos like a dove.
Memory tugs and I stop in my tracks. Once I held a woman in my arms. She was fragile and silent. My salvation. But then the monster came and used my hands to almost rip her apart...
The howl tears from my throat as I remember what I have done. What I have become.
20
Fern
The howling started again just as Svein finished his tale.
“Dagg attacked the Berserkers and threatened the women. His mind was lost. I was too far gone myself to pull him back. We were driven off, not allowed to see you again, or gain entrance to the pack’s mountain.”
“But... Dagg fought the Corpse King’s men too. He rescued us.”
“He fought everyone,” Svein corrected gently. “He even swiped at you when you approached to calm him. You don’t remember?”
I shook my head. The mist, the stench, the Corpse King’s fighters—it was all a blur. A waking vision. I was not worried at the time because I had two strong warriors to care for me. When I woke later, and a strange warrior was carrying me, that was when I panicked. They’d taken me to the lodge of unmated spaewives, and finally told me I had no mates. That was when the dreams started again.
“He tried to attack you. When the Alphas found out, they drove him away.”
I bit my lip. His banishment was my fault. “Please, we must tell them he didn’t mean it.”
“He said you bore the scent of the Corpse King,” Svein shook his head. “He made no sense. He has lost his mind. I am sorry, Fern.”
I pressed myself against his strong chest, wondering how it could be that I came so far and still felt that all was lost.
“I must ask again, little one. Why are you here?”
I drew in a long breath. “I need you.”
Frowning, he cocked his head to the side. “Were you're not well cared for?”
“No, I was, but I cannot stay there.” I ducked my head. How can I explain that when I was with them, I did not dream? The visions did not claim me, and I was finally safe.
“I must send you back.”
“No. Please do not send me away.”
He raised a brow, waiting for my reason. I thought frantically. “They will punish me.”
His mouth tipped. “Do you think I will not punish you for risking your life in the blizzard?”
My heartbeat stuttered in my chest.
“Don’t look so shocked, little one. I half jest. I would never harm you. Not truly. Any punishment I give will be for your benefit, and mine.”
I looked at him curiously then, no longer afraid.
He stared out of the cave into the night. The trees were shrouded in white. No more snow fell, but when the wind picked up flakes and sent them swirling. “The monster beats at my skin, but with you here, I am whole. How many decades did I long for one such as you?”
I took out the last of the bread and offered it to him.
He shook his head. “Tomorrow I will hunt.”
21
The howling continued long into the night. I lay in Svein’s arms, listening. Dagg sounded like a wounded animal.
What would I do if it was too late? If their minds were truly lost? I had come so far and risked too much to fail them.
“Get on with you,” Svein raised his head and called into the darkness. “She’s not for you, or me. Not anymore.” His body was tense as he lay back down. “Don't cry, little one.” He said to me. “It will be all right.”
Nodding against his chest, I swiped the tears from my cheeks. Svein smelled of snow, and wood smoke, and damp fur. Solid scents that comforted me. My legs tangled with his, and the heat from his body warmed me.
But Dagg was still out there, howling in the snow, alone. Even when the sound stopped, I stayed awake a long time.
Svein woke me with a kiss on the lips. He was up and naked but for a pelt around his hips. Morning light slanted through the cave.
“I’ll be back soon. Stay here, and do not leave the cave.”
I huddled in the furs and dozed. Svein had built up the fire before he left, and I watched it slowly dwindle to ash. I should rise and add a log too it, but the pelts were just too warm. When the last sparks glowed deep in the charred depths, I sat up, then froze.
Beyond the mouth of the cave, near the bushes, the shadows moved. A large creature with dark, matted fur and glowing eyes lurked there. It kept hidden, sniffing and shuffling closer.
I was on my feet in a second. “Dagg?”
No answer, but the creature moved halfway into the light. A hunched monster, taller than any man, with the furry muzzle, paws and claws of a beast, came into view.
A growl made us both turn. A white wolf stood at the forest edge, teeth bared.
“Svein, no,” I cried, too late. The monster took a few steps back but didn’t escape before the wolf attacked. Snow flew. I shouted and waved my hands for them to stop, wincing as the wolf’s jaw clamped down on the monster’s arm. The monster rose on its hind legs, vicious claws raking at the great wolf’s back. Blood flew into the snow.
“Stop!” I picked up a log stacked by the fire and threw it. It bounced off the two of them. They broke apart for a moment, the monster staggering backwards. The wolf lunged for it again.
“No,” I shrieked. “Svein, it’s Dagg! It’s Dagg—don’t hurt him.”
Rearing back, the monster beat a retreat to the trees. The wolf remained, lips peeled back, muzzle streaked with blood. As I watched, its forelegs pushed off the ground, and the beast rose to its back legs, shaking off fur and turning into a man. My hair blew back with a sudden wind.
Svein stalked back into the cave, still moving with the lean grace of a wild animal. I rushed at him and pushed at his chest. “What did you do?”
Svein blinked in surprise. Blood trickled from his back and a cut on his face. More wounds from a stupid, useless fight. “Didn't you see?”
His growl cut off, his golden eyes searching my face. I realized I'd never raised my voice before.
“Did he hurt you?” Svein ground out. His eyes were bright and wild. The battle lust was still upon him.
I shook my head and held still as his hands roamed over me, reassuring himself I was whole. He sniffed my hair.
“Svein,” I whispered, and he pulled me into his embrace.
“Forgive me. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
“It’s not that.” I pushed away from him. “He did not want to fight you.”
“Little one…”
“I saw it. I was right here.” I thumped his bare chest.
Svein stood thinking. “What did he do?” He asked at last.
“Nothing. He came up to the cave, and waited there, sniffing the air.”
“He scented you.”
“Perhaps. But he did not venture in, even though I let the fire go out.”
“I never should’ve left you alone.” Shaking his head, Svein went to build up the fire.
“You had to. We need to eat.”
When he was done, he rose, dusting off his hands, and went to the clothes he’d left stacked neatly for when he returned from the hunt. I stopped him long enough to wipe the blood from his cuts. His eyes swept over me hungrily. According to the stories my mated friends told, the beast did not only lust for blood. I kept my eyes downcast and shook a little as I stepped away.
I ventured out of the cave to fetch some water and stopped. “Svein, come look.”
A bloody bundle lay under the bushes. A hank of meat, the fur still clinging to it. “He left a kill.”
Svein came and pushed me gently
back to the cave. He sniffed the meat carefully. “Deer.”
“Don’t you see? He brought this here.”
“Good, because my hunt was futile. The prey in these woods are in hiding, frightened of Dagg’s monster.”
I huffed. “He’s not a monster.”
“What else would you call that thing?” Svein squatted in the snow to skin the meat and fetched some branches. In no time he had made a spit and my stomach was gurgling with the scent of roasting meat.
We ate well, thanks to Dagg. Svein let me fill my belly and devoured the rest, licking juice from his fingers.
“More snow tonight.”
I shivered. Dagg was out there, alone.
Svein stalked over with a pelt and wrapped it around me. His touch was so gentle, as if I was fragile and might fall apart.
“You need to go back, Fern. I cannot care for you.”
I knotted my forehead. “I did not come only for you to care for me. I came to rescue you.”
“You assume we can be rescued.”
“You are of sound mind.”
“Perhaps. For now.”
I bit my lip. I wanted so much to save these men, the only ones who could save me. “Does it help for me to be here?”
“Yes, it helps.” he admitted. “But I don’t know how long it will last.”
“It will last.” It had to.
Svein smiled as if my vow amused him. He tossed the meat bones out into the snow and built up the fire again.
Large shadows danced on the walls as I looked about the cave. This would be our home at least until the biggest snow drifts melted. When the Berserkers first took me, they spoken of a lodge they’d built for their mate. I’d dreamed of it. But for now, this cave would do.
Rising, I took off my cloak.
“I wish to bathe,” I said. Svein raised a brow. I took a scrap of cloth from my bag and a cup I’d brought. Once the water had warmed, I washed as best I could, wiping down my face and neck and running the rag underneath my gown. Svein watched with great interest, to the point where when it came time to wash my legs, I blushed and turned away.