Wildest Dreams

by Kristen Ashley

She leaned back, visibly surprised at this news, and she surveyed him.

  Then she stated, “This may be so, and Valentine reports the dalliances are discreet, but nevertheless, she is living the life of your wife in that other world and no matter how discreet, word has a way of getting out. Valentine tells me it is there not like it is here. There are people who do not accept the guenipes. There are even those who are violently opposed to them.”

  Finnie had told him of this curious fact about her world, something not shared with his own. Frey himself had no issue with guenipes, unless, of course, he was pledged to marry one.

  “This is true, witch, but as Finnie will never return to that world, it matters not.”

  “Perhaps she will not agree,” Agnes suggested.

  “I can assure you she already knows and she does not care,” Frey stated then crossed his arms on his chest and his brows went up. “You travelled all the way from Lunwyn for this?”

  She shook her head. “No. This is not the only news. It isn’t even half of it.”

  Gods damn it.

  “Spit it out,” he clipped.

  “There have been many communications back and forth. Many communications,” she stressed. “And Princess Sjofn is aware of the perils the Princess Finnie is facing, including the assassination attempts.”

  “And?” Frey prompted.

  “And she is feeling great guilt about these perils,” her face went slightly hard before she went on, “as she should. Through our communications both Valentine and I have become aware that the Princess Sjofn has been far from forthright with your Finnie.”

  After that, the witch said no more.

  “And this matters because…?” Frey asked, losing patience.

  “It matters because her guilt is ascending. She’s becoming frantic about these perils she’s placed Finnie under. She’s gravely concerned something will befall her. Princess Sjofn is highly trained and rightly feels she is better equipped to deal with these threats, as she has proven in the past. And I can assure you, Drakkar, that communication is not easy for me and it is not cheap for Princess Sjofn. Every time she sends a message through Valentine, she pays dearly for it and the messages are coming one on the heels of another.”

  When she quit speaking, Frey lifted his brows, not about to prompt her again.

  “Drakkar,” she snapped, “it is not her currency Princess Sjofn is using. It is your Finnie’s.”

  “Again, this matters not,” Frey replied. “Finnie has no further use of that currency. She is mine and my coin and property are hers. And, woman, I’ll remind you she has taken over the life of Sjofn and is now a princess with her own funds and property, that property being a bloody palace.”

  “That may be so, Drakkar, but I’m telling you, Sjofn’s guilt is ascending. She is now talking of paying Valentine to send her back.”

  Frey felt the ice disintegrate as the fire came back.

  “By the gods, you jest,” he whispered.

  “No.” She shook her head. “Valentine is refusing until she hears word from Finnie. But Princess Sjofn is making refusal difficult for she’s offering three million of what they call ‘dollars’ and from what I gather from Valentine, this is enough coin to set a single being in a life of relative opulence for decades.”

  “My princess is bound here and Sjofn bound there by the elves,” Frey reminded her.

  “Valentine is strong, Drakkar. I cannot say for certain if she can circumvent an elfin spell. What I can say is that I feel her power and if anyone can, she can.”

  Gods damn it.

  “And if she were to return Sjofn here, would that mean my princess would go there?” Frey asked.

  The witch shook her head. “The talk is not of the Princess Finnie returning to her world, but only of Sjofn returning here.”

  “She cannot return,” Frey declared.

  “I know this, Drakkar, but she is determined.”

  “Then tell this Valentine to tell Sjofn that if she does, I will see to it that she sits at a secret tribunal to hear testimony of her treason after which, when judgment is passed, she will face private execution. Her mother and father both agree that her selfish actions brand her traitor to the realm and traitor to the crown and if they do, any head of a House chosen to be judge at her tribunal will as well. All of this will be done without any but the four people involved knowing it is done, plus, of course, her executioner. Sjofn will be hanged for her crimes but no one will be the wiser as Finnie carries on as princess then king mother. This news, I would suspect, will likely halt her desperate attempts to return and make amends for her treacherous actions.”

  “I agree,” Agnes said softly, her eyes again surveying him, “but do you not think your wife should have some say in issues of such great import?”

  “No,” Frey answered shortly.

  She surveyed him again closely and he sensed she did not agree.

  He did not care.

  Then, wisely moving on, she declared, “There is more you need to know.”

  Frey waited.

  She took in breath.

  Then she stated, “Valentine is a powerful witch.”

  “You’ve explained that,” Frey replied and she had, as did the elves.

  Agnes went on. “She is witch not seer.” She paused then announced, “But I am both.”

  At the look on her face, the fire died and the ice returned.

  “Speak,” he ordered.

  She pulled in breath then let it out on a whispered, “Drakkar, I see fire and blood and I see it around your Finnie.”

  Frey’s body locked so he wouldn’t go back on a foot at this news.

  “Fire and blood?” he asked softly.

  “Dragon fire,” she whispered, “the heat so intense, buildings melt. And blood, so much, her boots stand in rivers of it. I dream of it, I dream of it every night, I can’t stop dreaming of it.”

  “I control the dragons,” Frey reminded her quietly.

  “And in ancient times, when The Drakkar called the dragons to duty, it is told it was not unknown for an innocent to perish in the line of their fire.”

  Frey was silent as that ice again stole through his veins.

  Agnes spoke on. “It is an awful thought, worse to speak of and worse still for you to make the decision, but I believe you should relent to the return of Sjofn and let it be her that faces this future, not your Finnie.”

  “You’re speaking of murder,” Frey replied, his gut twisting with disgust.

  “You yourself said if she returned she’d face certain execution,” Agnes retorted.

  “Execution, witch, is not murder,” Frey clipped.

  She lifted her chin to grant his point then said, “I see the vision, I dream the dream, I do not know if it is Sjofn or Finnie who stands in the fire and blood. I also do not know the outcome. The fire surrounds her, the blood flows over her boots. But I do know this will happen, Drakkar. Never, not once since I started dreaming the visions as a wee girl, has one not come true.” She pulled in a visible breath and finished, “I am sorry but this is your choice. If you bar Sjofn’s return to this world, you must pray to Keer who holds Princess Finnie’s and your destinies in his hands or you make the dreadful choice to stand Sjofn in that fire. But the choice is yours.”

  Frey studied her.

  Then he asked, “You say you do not see the outcome?”

  She shook her head and confirmed, “I do not.”

  “And how does Finnie or Sjofn come to this pass?”

  “I do not see that either, Drakkar.”

  “And is she alone or surrounded by men, guards, soldiers?”

  She shook her head again and repeated, “I do not see that either.”

  Frustration crawled up his throat and he growled, “This vision is not very helpful.”

  Her back shot straight. “I’m not a fortune teller as they don’t exist,” she snapped. “I am a seer. I do not control the visions, they come to me. This is what I saw, it was grave and because of
that I have travelled far to inform you but this was all I saw.”

  At that moment, a loud, feminine cry of delight pierced through the room and Frey turned to the windows.

  Finnie was jumping up and down, her arms around Annar’s neck with one hand still holding her bow. Her movements were so excited the arrows in the quiver strapped across her back were cascading to the green grass at her feet. Annar was standing feet planted firm to the ground, his hands at her waist but her exuberance was jolting his body. He was in profile but Frey could see his man’s wide smile.

  Finnie detached swiftly from Annar, whirled to face an excited Skylar, threw both her arms up in the air, still holding her bow and shrieked her delight again before she bent and caught Skylar up in a tight embrace, shaking him side to side as Frey heard her laugh.

  Skylar’s boyish laughter mingled with hers.

  Frey’s eyes moved to Finnie’s target and he saw the arrows had been cleared. Now there were only two.

  One in the circle outside the bulls-eye.

  One embedded directly in the middle of it.

  He felt his lips curve into a smile.

  She’d done it.

  Fire and blood.

  Frey’s smile died.

  Then he turned to the witch.

  “Have you eaten?”

  She blinked then asked, “What?”

  His eyes moved over her dusty, travel worn gown. “You’ve travelled far, have you eaten?”

  She shook her head and said, “I have made haste, starting on my journey the minute I learned from Finnie’s Jocelyn that you were at the chateau. I have ridden hard, consumed little and slept even less due to my haste and that dream. So no, Drakkar, it has been since yesterday I have eaten.”

  He nodded. Then he stated, “I will order a meal for you. You have three hours to eat it, wash and rest. Then you are away with one of my men. You will ride fast to Bellebryn and board the first vessel bound for Lunwyn. You live in Fyngaard?”

  “Just outside it, yes.”

  Frey nodded again. “You will go home, my man will accompany you and you will prepare to be away for some time. Finnie and I leave on the morrow, headed back to Lunwyn ourselves. We will first go to the Rimée Keep so she can see her parents. My man will take you there. We will stay there a week, perhaps two, then we will be moving on to my lodge in Kellshorn. You will follow us.”

  Her brows drew together, “But, I don’t under –”

  Frey impatiently anticipated her question and therefore answered it before it was fully asked, “So that I will know immediately, I want you close at all times should you receive more communications from the other world, have any dreams that shed further light on the situation you fear will befall my Finnie or any dreams you have about Finnie at all. And I want you to use your powers to protect my wife.” He paused and added, “For these endeavors, you will be paid.”

  “There is no protection against dragon fire, Drakkar, you know that,” Agnes stated quietly.

  “Finnie faces a variety of dangers, witch, and there are protections for those,” Frey returned.

  The witch nodded.

  Then she took a step toward him, her gaze grew cautious but her mouth opened to speak.

  “There are no dragons in the other world, Drakkar.”

  Frey’s body went solid and it did this because he took her meaning.

  Then he whispered, “You speak treason.”

  She pressed her lips together, clearly hesitant, but went on, “I do and I do with purpose. There are few matches like yours with Finnie in this world or hers. So few, they are so rare, they are precious and need to be protected at all costs. Valentine may be able to break the binding spell of the elves and she could take your Finnie and you to the other world where she’ll be safe. If Princess Sjofn doesn’t run through it, your princess has the means for you both to live there comfortably for the entirety of your days and –”

  Frey leaned toward her and cut her off. “Witch,” he clipped, his tone fierce, “you… talk… treason.” She leaned back slightly and pressed her lips together but Frey went on, “And treason is heinous but what you speak of is worse. If I were to remove Finnie from this world, an elfin, dragonian child will not sit on the Lunwyn throne as our gods desire, our frosted land would again descend into turmoil, the dragons would lose their Drakkar and would remain at slumber in their caves for the gods know how long. The fact I am The Drakkar means there is a threat looming for all of Lunwyn for which the dragons will need to be roused. And lastly, the elves would again be betrayed by The Frey and because of that may retreat for another seven centuries or worse, may never ascend again. And you know that breaking their binding spell would mean sacrifice, the elves will demand it as their due before they withdraw to their realm. I do not know what this sacrifice will be but I do know it will be terrible. The gods have chosen Finnie for me and me for Lunwyn. Our destinies are linked and this link is for the future of Lunwyn. We cannot desert our land. This cannot happen.”

  She stepped back, her eyes moving to contemplate the rug and she nodded but he saw her hands shaking with fear, as they would. It took great courage for her to suggest betraying his country, his responsibilities and the elves.

  But she did it to advocate safe harbor for his wife.

  “I will forget you suggested it,” Frey said quietly.

  “Thank you, Drakkar.”

  Frey continued speaking softly and when he did her eyes moved back to him.

  “As you can see, we must do all we can to keep my princess safe.”

  Agnes nodded. “It will be my honor to serve The Drakkar and his Ice Bride.”

  “My thanks,” Frey replied, watched her draw in a breath then he stated, “I will see to your meal and bath. You’re away in three hours.”

  Agnes nodded again.

  Frey moved to the door muttering, “Safe journey, I will see you in Snowdon.”

  He did not await her response.

  He went in search of the housekeeper.

  Then he went directly to his wife.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Hit the Bell with a Loud Clang

  Two days later…

  I stood at the railing on the bridge deck at the stern of The Finnie and looked at the terracotta tile roofed, adobe buildings with their brightly-colored awnings, pots of profuse flowers, multi-colored lanterns and wrought iron whimsies all stretching up the hill where, at the top, there was an unbelievable fairytale castle.

  The city state of Bellebryn.

  And I watched it all slowly get smaller as we sailed away.

  It was, the first time I saw it nearly two months ago and at that moment, the most beautiful place I’d ever seen in my life. Nothing like it existed in my world, not even close.

  Except in animated children’s films. Yep, seriously, it was a city only the most whimsical, artistic minds could create.

  It was amazing.

  As amazing as it was, I was pleased we were heading home to Lunwyn, pleased to turn the page to a new adventure, pleased to get back to my parents but most of all pleased to be setting sail because something was bothering Frey.

  I could read him easily but for some reason his strange, subdued, weighty mood, a mood that had lasted over two days, I could not read. And after asking him (four times) and receiving the response, “Nothing’s amiss, my wee one,” (when something was) my only guess was that my Raider, like me, itched to be on the move.

  “Sky,” I heard and I looked down at Skylar who was standing beside me at the railing, his eyes on the fading beauty of Bellebryn but he, like I, turned to see Orion striding toward us. “Sword, boy, now. The sun will be setting soon and you’ve not practiced today. Waist deck, fifteen minutes,” Orion ordered, Sky nodded to him, Orion jerked his chin at Sky, looked to me and smiled, turned on his boot and left the bridge deck.

  Skylar looked up at me with bright, excited eyes and asked, “Anything you need in the cabin, Miss Finnie?”

  I shook my head and smil
ed down at him. “No, honey, you go on. I’m good.”

  He smiled huge then took off on a run.

  My smile faded as I watched him go.

  Frey had informed me that sword and knife work were going to be added to Skylar’s archery lessons and math, writing and reading tutorials. Wooden daggers and swords, which could do little harm should mistakes occur, had been purchased for this very purpose.

  I did not like it and told Frey so. Archery was one thing; Sky was too young to be working with weapons, which swords and daggers definitely were, even wooden ones. To this, Frey informed me in the coming weeks Skylar would turn twelve and then he went on to inform me this was not too young. I disagreed with that too, thinking such lessons should start when he was fifteen or sixteen.

  Or thirty.

  When I shared this opinion with him, he’d laughed his ass off. Unfortunately, Thad and Stephan were with him so they laughed their asses off too. I stormed off in a huff after glaring death rays at them which was not a good choice because this made them all keep laughing their asses off.

  Skylar, however, agreed with Frey and was excited beyond reason to begin his lessons as any boy would be, learning cool-as-shit boy stuff from trained, experienced, skilled, tall, fit, hot, action hero type guys.

  And thus, I was outvoted.

  I heard boots on wood and twisted my neck to see Frey heading my way from the other side of the bridge deck. I smiled at him and his gaze dropped to my mouth then back to my eyes. I started to turn toward him but he halted this when he arrived at me, his hands turning me gently back to face the fading beauty of Bellebryn then his arms wrapped around me, one across my chest, one at my ribs.

  Then his mouth came to my ear and I knew he knew my thoughts because he whispered, “As I explained, love, boys of his class sometimes never even learn their letters and numbers. Knowing those, the workings of a ship and being skilled with knives, swords and bows brightens his future. When he’s old enough to make decisions on the life path he wishes to follow, these lessons will provide a choice of paths, paths most of the boys of his class could never hope to pursue. It is good the men wish to take this time with him. It is a boon and he knows it.” Frey’s arms gave me a squeeze. “And they are skilled; no harm will come to him while he trains.”