Wildest Dreams

by Kristen Ashley

  At that, Drakkar relaxed.

  He had been to the Southlands – to trade not to raid. He knew a number of Korwahk merchants and had met several Korwahk Horde warriors. He did not know Lahn, the king of Korwahk, but he knew much of him. Although Circe would likely find adjusting to her new life an ordeal, it was not unheard of, in fact, it was frequent for women even outside the Southlands to adjust to their lives with their warriors, so far as enjoying them and considering themselves Korwahk. King Lahn was greatly admired by his people, known to have honor and any bride he chose would undoubtedly be equally admired. Not to mention, he had great wealth which it was known warriors showered on their brides and if his people felt him honorable, and he had declared satisfaction with her, Drakkar hoped he would behave as such with his new bride.

  And, lastly, there was absolutely no chance Baldur would succeed in retrieving his sorceress. The Korwahk Horde of warriors was renowned for their protection of their people, their nation, its vast wealth but most especially of their wives. King Lahn being, if word was true, by far the mightiest of a celebrated horde of exceptionally skilled and strong warriors, he would make short work of Baldur if he even tried.

  “Franka, I’m losing patience,” Drakkar warned.

  She examined him a moment, he knew she read nothing and finally continued, “This makes Middleland vulnerable.”

  “Yes,” Drakkar agreed. “Any ruler foolish enough to leave his land and take thirty thousand of his soldiers with him on a personal errand that has no hope of succeeding would leave that land vulnerable. What I’d like to understand is why you think I’d care?”

  “Because,” she replied instantly, “leaving his land doesn’t only make it vulnerable to others, such as Ludlum and Noctorno who may still be smarting after Baldur’s invasions of years ago regardless that Noctorno has resecured the lands Baldur wrested from them. But because his leaving his land makes it vulnerable to those inside Middleland who may be weary of Baldur’s rule and preparing to do something about it.”

  Aurora entered the conversation at this point with, “Staunch Lunwynians in Middleland moving to reunite our two countries?”

  Valeria looked to her queen and answered for Franka. “No, my queen, staunch Middlelandians moving to reunite our two countries.”

  It was at that that Drakkar’s body grew tight and he demanded, “Explain.”

  His mother looked to him. “Who would, my son, outside Baldur, gain the most from your new bride being dead?”

  Drakkar held her eyes.

  Broderick.

  Bloody, bloody hell.

  Broderick.

  Drakkar moved his gaze to Aurora and when he did he saw her eyes on him and her mouth was tight.

  “It is rather unfortunate,” Franka noted while sitting back against the couch, “that Prince Broderick and his lover have recently discovered they’ve been robbed of something they held quite dear. It has come to my attention that the young Phobin is most annoyed he’s lost this cherished article and everyone knows when Phobin is displeased, Broderick is.”

  Bloody, bloody hell.

  “Broderick holds great affection for his cousin, he would never –” Aurora started but Valeria interrupted her.

  “Affection gets lost when land, power and coin are in the balance.” His mother spoke the truth as she definitely understood it then looked to her son. “Everyone knows Baldur got the short end of the stick when King Halldor split Lunwyn. Regardless of our ice, the bounty lies within Lunwyn’s borders and Middleland is but a bunch of rock and sparse vegetation, none of which is useful except that which butts Hawkvale. It is so desolate, even when the land was Lunwyn, the elves refused to tread there.”

  “Yes,” Drakkar agreed. “But that which butts Hawkvale is exceptionally fertile and the rock you disdain, if forged, makes arrowheads coveted even in the Southlands. And under that rock is an abundance of coal which, if mined for the country and not to line Baldur’s coffers, would make the nation rich. Broderick isn’t greedy and reckless as his father is and could easily capitalize on these to bring prosperity to his people rather than increase his personal treasury. If he were to do this, he wouldn’t need Lunwyn.”

  “Perhaps you should petition to be his advisor, dear Frey, rather than Phobin,” Franka suggested on a distastefully catty curve of her lips making her implication clear.

  And with that, Drakkar was done and therefore demanded, “Let us dispense with this play and talk straight. Do you know that Broderick is plotting against Seoafin?”

  Franka shook her head but responded, “I know that Hernod Grieg, prior to his recent untimely demise, traded exclusively with Middleland. I know he was there almost more than he was here though I don’t know who he consorted with when he was but one can guess. And I know that his final words were ‘Unite Lunwyn’ which could have been called true or could have been a final attempt to cast suspicion off those who truly are behind the schemes to do away with the princess who will birth our future king.”

  “So you’re piecing this together through conjecture?” Drakkar asked and Franka shook her head again.

  “The story of Circe and Baldur’s departure is true. The information that a valuable asset held by Phobin was purloined is also true as is the fact they are both angry about it. The rest, indeed, my dear cousin,” she inclined her head, “is, as you say, conjecture.”

  He studied his cousin then his mother.

  It was conjecture but good conjecture and important information. If Broderick were to wish to move on his father, now would be the time. And if he would wish to gain momentum for this campaign, and earn the loyalty of those who wished to see Middleland reunited with Lunwyn, time would be of the essence. Without Finnie, Lunwyn would eventually fall in Broderick’s hands and that would be far sooner if he only needed to await the death of Atticus, not both brothers if he were to move on his father’s throne now. It would only be a matter of course, and one which would be supported by many in both countries, enough for them to be moved to pick up arms, for Broderick to move against Atticus, securing both thrones, reuniting Lunwyn and with Finnie out of the way, doing so without direct competition for rule. Hell, half of the Houses of Lunwyn would bear arms to unite it again with Middleland.

  Bloody hell.

  Not to mention, Phobin might not be clever but Broderick was no fool. He would piece together Drakkar and his men being in Middleland at the time the adela bough was stolen and this would only add fuel to their fire.

  Bloody hell.

  He pulled in a breath in an effort to prepare to say something he meant but didn’t wish to say and let it out, muttering, “Although conjecture, I am grateful for your time and the information you shared.”

  Valeria’s brows went up and without hesitation she enquired, “Grateful enough that, upon return from delivering Lunwyn’s waters through the Northlands, you’d share the profits of a galleon? Say…” she hesitated, “half?”

  Drakkar stared at his mother. Then he asked back, “So, you’re here for coin and not your concern about your daughter-in-law, a woman your firstborn son has come to care for deeply who also happens to be your Winter Princess and the future mother to your king?”

  “Well, Frey, if you put it like that it sounds positively dire,” Franka murmured through a small smile.

  “I apologize. I didn’t mean it to sound dire. I meant it to sound disbelieving and snide,” Drakkar replied and Franka’s smile got bigger so she pulled in her lips and bit them to hide it, an effort that didn’t succeed just as she intended.

  His mother’s already hard eyes grew harder. “I see, my son, you do not change.”

  “I am a Drakkar,” he retorted. “This cannot be a surprise, especially considering the fact that you have exposed you have not changed as well as you expect payment at all much less the amount you do for aiding my efforts to do something as crucial, not only for our country but to my happiness, as keeping my wife alive.”

  Valeria opened her mouth to speak but Auro
ra got there before her. “I see there are family issues here that are unlikely, even with a great deal of discourse, to be resolved at that present time.” Drakkar and Valeria looked to their queen as she went on. “Drakkar has expressed his gratitude verbally. I would like to express mine too and you will both receive a gift selected personally by your queen delivered to Valeria’s home on the morrow. You can rest assured, although not the worth of half the profits of a galleon filled with Lunwynian waters, you will not be disappointed as my gift will indicate just how grateful I feel that, for whatever reasons, you have come forward to aid my daughter, my country’s princess and the mother of our future king.”

  Both women, with nothing for it, shut their mouths and inclined their heads to Aurora.

  Yes, it was now certain. Drakkar quite liked his mother-in-law.

  “Now,” Aurora began while standing, forcing both women to stand too, “my daughter soon will be home. She and Frey leave on the morrow and she and I have plans this afternoon to go skating in Ulfr Park. I’m keen to spend as much time with her as I can before I again lose her and Frey to their adventures so…” she trailed off, extending her hand to the door and Valeria and Franka took the hint and started moving that way.

  Drakkar stayed where he was as Aurora guided them to and through the door then deposited them in a hovering servant’s hands with murmured words of farewell that he was not about to offer before moving back into the room, closing the door and coming directly to him.

  And he knew he had her trust when she dropped her mask long enough to snap, “I am sorry if you find this offensive, my new son, but your family is repugnant.”

  Drakkar bit back laughter before he replied, “I don’t, Aurora, find that the least offensive for it is unfortunately true.”

  Her eyes held his, he saw hers light as her lips twitched then she regained control of her features and spoke on.

  “Franka knows of the adela branch,” she noted.

  “This is not surprising. As I told you and Atticus, The Finnie was detected, Baldur forced a confrontation and Broderick clearly put two and two together but either he, or more likely Phobin, was not smart enough to keep his mouth shut about it.”

  Aurora nodded then she said softly, “I see their point, though it is stolen from Lunwyn and known to be sought after so they had to know, if they didn’t guard it closely, it would be detected and returned to its rightful land.” Her eyes on him grew intense. “But, Drakkar, I’ve known Broderick since he was born. He has far more of his mother in him than he does his father. He adores Finnie. He always has. I can’t imagine, even for power and coin –”

  Drakkar cut her off. “He was soft with her during our conversation with him and her father and this appeared genuine.” Aurora nodded but Drakkar went on. “He was soft with her, Aurora, but I noted as did a number of my men that Phobin couldn’t take his eyes off her and we both know he was not admiring her beauty.” Aurora eyes flashed quickly before she nodded again. “And Phobin, it is told, has Broderick spellbound. He shows Prince Broderick one face, others an entirely different one.”

  Aurora nodded again and whispered, “We should look into Phobin.”

  Drakkar returned her nod and replied, “I will send a message to Balthazar.” Then he noted, “However, we may not need to concern ourselves with this. If Ludlum and especially Noctorno hear that Middleland is vulnerable –”

  Aurora interrupted him. “Word from Bellebryn is that Noctorno has reconciled with his wife.”

  Drakkar couldn’t stop his blink at this news for he knew Tor, very well, they were friends, he held him in high regard and Drakkar knew Tor detested his wife regardless of the fact she was destined for him, it was written in the sky at each of their births by the She-God of their land. They’d been married for some time, Drakkar was even at their wedding, and Tor’s wife was exceptionally beautiful but visibly cold and nothing about her manner would be something that attracted Tor. They had spent just enough time together to consummate the union and lived separate lives since with Tor not keen to change that.

  “We were, as you may not have known,” Aurora continued, “scheduled to journey to Hawkvale for Prince Noctorno’s brother’s wedding but we had to cancel due to the situation with Finnie and then the imminent executions. We have heard since that, for reasons I do not know, that wedding has been postponed but in the meantime, Noctorno has reconciled with his wife and installed her in his castle in Bellebryn.”

  “Interesting,” Drakkar muttered.

  “Indeed,” Aurora replied. “And it is known he is actively working on siring an heir to Bellebryn and Hawkvale.”

  Drakkar grinned and Aurora’s lips again twitched.

  Then Drakkar’s grin faded and he asked, “Is it known if he is happy?”

  She shook her head but said, “It is known that Princess Cora is much changed and she is the talk of Bellebryn and Hawkvale, enough for that talk to make it here. They are calling her Cora, the Gracious.”

  Drakkar found that difficult to believe. She had been known as Cora, the Exquisite for her beauty. During his brief meeting with her at her wedding to his friend, however, she was far from gracious.

  “So, I suppose the answer to your question is, yes,” Aurora carried on. “It is said he is greatly taken with her… finally.”

  Drakkar nodded.

  Aurora kept speaking. “It is also known that you are actively working on siring an heir.”

  Drakkar’s grin came back but Aurora simply regarded him closely.

  “Is there aught to report with that?” she asked.

  “Not yet but soon, my queen, I hope Finnie and I will have good news.”

  Her eyes softened and her lips tipped up before she shared on a whisper, “I watch her with your boy, Skylar. She will make a good mother, my new son.”

  “Yes,” Drakkar stated, “she will.”

  She lifted a hand and touched his arm lightly before dropping it and saying softly, “I await your good news.”

  “And I look forward to imparting it,” Drakkar returned softly and at that, the door flew open and Finnie rushed in, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, smile firm on her face.

  She skidded to a halt several steps in, shared her smile with both of them then her eyes fixed on her mother and she cried, “Let’s… go… skating!”

  Bloody hell, his bride hadn’t even taken off her cloak from riding obstacles on her new horse and she was ready to go off on her next escapade.

  He studied her bright eyes and pink cheeks, thinking, By the gods, I love this woman.

  Then he crossed his arms on his chest and stated, “Before you’re off to break your ankle, wife, your husband will take a kiss.”

  She moved to him swiftly, replying, “I’m not going to break my ankle, Frey.”

  “Sprain it then,” he returned as she made it to him, curled her fingers around his forearm and leaned her body into his.

  “Not that either,” she retorted.

  “Gods, don’t give yourself delirium by falling on your head,” he implored and she giggled and got up on her toes.

  “I’ll not be doing that either. I’m a good skater,” she informed him.

  “And you’ve done this before?” he asked.

  “Yes, twice, with my parents when I was young,” she answered.

  “You’re not young anymore, Finnie,” he pointed out.

  “Well, I’m not gray, blind, crippled and doddering, either,” she shot back and he grinned.

  Then he murmured, “Kiss,” and bent his head to hers to assist her. She accepted his offer, pressing her mouth to his and opening hers before they touched tongues and when they did, Drakkar not only tasted her, he felt the beauty of her taste right down to his blood.

  He lifted his head and whispered, “Have fun, wee one.”

  She smiled up at him and whispered back, “I will, handsome husband. I always do.”

  Yes, that was his wee Finnie, she always did.

  Then she squeezed his arm, turned
to her mother, wrapped her hands around her mother’s arm and guided her out of the room, their heads bent together.

  Frey looked to Gunner, Max and Thad as they stood just outside the door and jerked his chin to them. They nodded and followed Finnie and Aurora.

  Then he pulled in a deep breath, let it out and went to find Ruben who would procure a trusted messenger and send off to Balthazar with this latest news and further instruction.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The Glow of the Adela Tree

  “Wee one, wake,” I heard Frey whisper in my ear, his big hand warm on my hip, my eyes slowly opened and I saw darkness cut with only weak candlelight.

  I rolled to my back to see he was out of bed but sitting on the side of it fully clothed and I felt my body go instantly tight.

  “What’s wrong?” I whispered.

  “Nothing, my love,” his hand, now at my belly, pressed lightly, “I’ve a message from the Elves. I thought you’d wish to accompany me.”

  I stared at him only a second before I was out of bed faster than lightning.

  I was rummaging through the wardrobe when I heard Frey say, “I’ll take this as a yes.”

  “Totally,” I told the wardrobe then felt his hands at my hips, his lips touch my shoulder and then they came to my ear.

  “I’ll saddle Tyr and bring him ‘round front. I’ll meet you there when you’re ready.”

  I nodded at the wardrobe and pulled out a cream woolen dress.

  Frey left the room. I dressed as fast as I could considering how many clothes I needed to wear and how difficult the underwear was to strap on. Then I pulled on a cream wool cloak with a curly-furred collar, a cream knit cap that fit snug and bunched all my hair out at the sides and cream leather gloves and dashed out into the hall.

  As it was the dead of night and no footmen were around, it took a bit of effort to get the front doors of the Keep opened and then closed again but when I did, I turned and saw Frey was waiting for me at the foot of the steps with Thad, Orion and Ruben.