Siren Slave

by Aurora Styles

  “If you want to be rid of her, we’re performing a sacrifice to Woden at midnight,” a Germanic man said to Siegfried. Freya didn’t even flinch at the remark. Siegfried would never agree to such a thing.

  “I thought you agreed to stop sacrificing people in return for the supplies I bring you,” Siegfried’s voice was calm but with a sharp edge to it. Freya focused on his chest, revealed in the deep V of his tunic instead of at his face or the faces of the others.

  “Only traitors,” Vercingetorix said. “If people wish to gain favor with their gods, I will not stop them. I am pleased to have the allegiance of as many men as I can.”

  “By traitors, do you mean men who do not wish to fight in this war?” Siegfried asked.

  “This war is everyone’s,” Vercingetorix said. “We must have a Gallic king, not a Roman Caesar.”

  “What was wrong with the tribes just ruling themselves?” Freya murmured. “Maybe they just don’t want a king far away but someone closer that they can better control? Isn’t it better to put your men who want to be here with men who also want to be here? I think people who aren’t dedicated would be a bit of a liability.”

  “And what do you know of men and their desires, slave?” Vercingetorix asked. “I assume that is what Siegfried’s made you.”

  Freya shrugged off the jab. “My closest friends are all men in the barracks. Some of them didn’t want to fight for Rome. They were better at farming or other needed jobs. Some of them just disagreed. But if my parents caught wind of that, they’d have been executed or sent to Rome. It’s a weakness in a battle if your men might join the other side.”

  “You think that because you’ve bedded down with soldiers that you know about warfare?”

  “She’s not bedded down with anyone,” Siegfried said. Did he feel the need to defend her honor? He grimaced. “She drank and gambled with the men.” He looked to her. “Who doesn’t support the Remi amongst your men?”

  “Hartwin, Faramund, even Berengar. I was able to secure them a spot protecting the palace. They taught me how to play hnefatafl. Was I really supposed to let them be executed as traitors or performing poorly for not believing in a cause that wasn’t theirs? They at least wanted to protect me…or did. Besides, I wanted my friends close, too. They didn’t really help against the Druids though.”

  “You have no fear of speaking so boldly to me, do you?” Vercingetorix asked after he studied her for a long moment.

  “No. You’re a man, just like my friends in Folkvang.”

  “He is the king, slave,” one of the Druids warned. He marched from his place behind Vercingetorix. “The rightful king.” The Druid tried to whack Freya with his gnarled staff, but Siegfried quickly blocked the blow.

  “That remains for the people to decide,” she said. “If you try to force respect, you’re not really any better than Caesar.” She wanted to say more but found she could not speak. Siegfried’s grip was tight on her thigh. She couldn’t see the Druids’ faces under their cowls. Some of the men were murmuring. Vercingetorix just looked stony.

  “It appears as if Freya isn’t as meek as she’d have me believe,” Siegfried said.

  “I can see why she appeals to you, Siegfried,” Vercingetorix said. “I expected her to beg for mercy.” Freya snorted at that. “It looks as if you have every intention of keeping her.”

  “Aye,” Siegfried said.

  “I’d sacrifice her,” the woman with the plaits said. “It’d be less trouble to let the gods discipline her. See how well her questioning them is received.”

  “Idunn,” Siegfried said, his voice heavy with warning.

  “What do you think happens to human sacrifices?” Freya blurted, unable to help herself. Siegfried had stopped silencing her. Perhaps a few questions would help.

  “They are slain in honor of the gods,” Idunn said.

  “Well…I mean, how does it honor them?” Freya persisted, her thoughts taking flight. “Have you ever thought that Woden might be in Asgard, doing his Woden-ish things, like busting skulls and snarling and running around in a loincloth in the snow, and all of a sudden these sacrifices just appear there? Maybe they land in the middle of his table. And there would go dinner, because someone’s ass ended up in the stew. Or they might land on his head as he’s battling, or—”

  “Is there…something wrong with her? Maybe you should sacrifice her to Woden,” Idunn said. “Sacrifices are supposed to serve the gods in the afterlife.”

  “Let me continue. Er, please, Master.”

  Siegfried nodded and watched her with interest and the slightest bit of amusement.

  “You’re giving Woden sacrifices of people you don’t really want. How does that honor him in any way? That would be like me giving someone a pair of old shoes and saying how much I like that person. It’d be more of an insult really. If you do sacrifice me, I’m just going to tell Woden what you’re really up to. Giving him your undesirables. And then I’d see if he had any ale.”

  “Does it happen that way?” one of the men asked the Druids. The Druids looked to each other but did not answer. Freya bet they were glad for those hoods, which were most likely serving to conceal frustration and confusion.

  “I never thought of it that way,” Vercingetorix said, scratching his chin. The mirrored medallion on his neck caught the firelight. A lot of people were wearing those, now that Freya thought about it. She’d thought they were fireflies at first, because the small orbs reflecting the flames were everywhere. But fireflies weren’t that big and it was too late in the year for them. “What if we’re angering the gods with the sacrifices? We lost forty men two days ago. Right after our last sacrifice. Just to be safe, we will put a hold on the sacrifices.”

  Freya breathed a sigh of relief, and Siegfried sat her on his knee. “I have no idea how that worked, but thank you.” He managed to sound grateful yet reluctant all at the same time.

  “I’m really not in a hurry to meet my father,” Freya whispered. “Can I even be sacrificed if I’m fey? They are called human sacrifices.”

  “Let me make it clear to all of you,” Siegfried addressed those around the fire, “that Freya is not to be harmed. It seems some princesses are more suited to collars than crowns.” His hand rested possessively on her hip. His hands hadn’t been anywhere inappropriate in front of these people, but she hoped that would change when they were alone.

  Freya wanted out of here, now, or at least away from these people. She sensed some unease earlier when Siegfried questioned them about their supplies. They hadn’t needed any. Had she sensed his discomfort through their bond? The best thing to do was investigate. “Master, I’d like to clean up. We traveled a long time.”

  “Let me take her,” Idunn said. “I acted rashly. Allow me to make up for my insults by providing some comfort to your slave.”

  Siegfried, instead of ordering Freya off, looked to her.

  “I’ll go,” she said.

  “I’ll take care of her, Siegfried,” the woman promised. Why did that sound ominous? Because there are so many different ways to ‘take care’ of something.

  Freya was not stupid, and she did not trust Idunn. Yet, she really did want to properly clean up after traveling and was certain she could handle herself. She gave her master a tight hug before going with the other woman.

  After they were away from the main campfire, Idunn grew impatient and took up the lead. Freya decided she did not like being led around like a dog. Siegfried was an exception, and, as far as Freya was concerned, her slavery was very consensual.

  “I can walk on my own,” Freya said. “I don’t think I’m going to escape with all these people here.”

  Idunn gave the leash a tug and continued to pull Freya behind her. The people here were so different than her own. So many of them had tattoos done in ash under the skin. The elaborate patterns seemed wild to Freya, almost exciting in a way. Noses, ears, and lips were pierced. She felt like an oddity in her bright garb. And it wasn’t as if she could tear it
off to show them her own piercings either.

  Her Marks wouldn’t have been so odd had she not been wearing a toga. She wished she could change into something else. It made the toga all the more conspicuous that it was, of course, Tyrian purple.

  When Freya slowed to look at a man with rings all the way up his ears, Idunn gave her such a fierce pull that she fell, breaking the heel on one of the shoes from Hedwig.

  “Those looked like they were costly,” Idunn said. Not even an apology. “Hurry it up.”

  Freya ripped off her other shoe and walked on tiptoes to keep up with Idunn. The ground cut her feet. Why hadn’t Hedwig given her an extra pair of shoes?

  Mercifully, Idunn stopped in front of a leather tent, much like all the rest. Except this one wasn’t patched, and it was larger. She could smell perfume emanating from this one.

  “Julia,” Idunn called. “I have a slave here for you.” Indunn’s shoulders trembled as she giggled.

  “Excuse me?” The woman behind the brown flap sounded confused. A pale face, topped with elaborate black curls poked out to survey Freya. “What is this?”

  “Freya, former princess of the Remi,” Idunn said, a hint of mockery in her voice. “Now slave of Siegfried the Fox.” She said Siegfried’s name slow, with special emphasis. “She needs clean clothing. I thought you would see to that, and I thought you would be curious.”

  Julia choked as Idunn plopped gold coins in her hand, then Idunn marched Freya past the stunned woman.

  “If she gives you problems, just holler.” Idunn snickered and darted away before Julia could protest.

  The tent was filled with soft pillows and chests of perfumed cloth. Mirrors hung on cords from the top of the tent, reflecting the firelight. Freya let her attention wander across the oaken chests and scattered jewelry instead of looking at Julia, who was staring at her.

  “Why did she bring you to me?” Julia demanded, as if Freya would know. “Are you truly his slave?”

  “Did you want to be?” Freya could think of no other reason for Julia’s reaction.

  Julia looked horrified for many long seconds before she found her voice. “No. Never. And maybe she doesn’t like you; that could be why she brought me here.” She made a frustrated sound, scowling. “You must not tell Siegfried I am here.”

  “Why not?”

  Julia looked annoyed at the question. “We have a history. A long history. In short, he believes me dead. I’d prefer it stay that way.” Julia stared at Freya a long moment before giving her a too-friendly smile. “Come, dear, walk with me. We are not so far from the Rhine. You can bathe there with the proper supplies.”

  “Wait. What?” Freya followed Julia out of the tent, struggling to keep up on her injured feet. It seemed as if Julia’s sudden nervousness made her speak freely. “Not about the bathing with nice supplies. I like that idea, but about Siegfried?”

  “Are you a virgin?” Julia slipped an arm over Freya’s shoulders.

  Freya hesitated then thought she’d answer. She wanted more answers from Julia. “Yes.”

  Julia gasped and shook her head, squeezing Freya’s upper arm. “Gods. How am I supposed to prepare you for Siegfried? You had best run. Escape the first chance you can. I’m taking you to the river for good reason.”

  “Are you telling me that you…faked your own death because there’s something wrong with Siegfried?” She’d seen him naked. No, not a thing wrong. And he definitely wasn’t mad.

  “How do I explain this to a virgin? Siegfried wanted things I didn’t want. Yes, Romans beat me up a little because I was his lover. I was a whore. So, I came here, and I’m still a whore.”

  Freya was silent until they were out of the firelight, surrounded by trees, moving down the rocks toward the river. Then she stopped. “I’m still confused.” She reached into the pouch at her hip, removing one of the diamonds from Volos’ belt. “Tell me everything. I may have a few more.”

  Julia squinted at the stone. “Gods, this is huge. Did Siegfried give you this? He gave me bigger.”

  “No, he didn’t give it to me. I took a few things with me from the palace.”

  “Siegfried frequented my brothel. I ran it. We talked. We got along. We became lovers. He asked…a lot of me, Freya. Many, many things I just couldn’t do. When I was questioned by Rome, I knew it was time to hide. I didn’t have the information they wanted. He never told me much. I had to leave Ostia, so I came here. I paid people good money to tell him I was dead. You would understand it all if only you knew. But such a sweet innocent. I’d rather not see you subjected to that.” Julia, it seemed, was feigning concern to verbally bash Siegfried.

  “So, he did what he did to you, and you weren’t all right with it? And he didn’t care after you told him you didn’t want to do these things?” Siegfried did enjoy the things he did to Freya, seized upon any excuse. But, like Siegfried, Freya knew most people probably didn’t enjoy such. She couldn’t imagine him being with a woman and being able to hold back for long, but she couldn’t imagine him doing something to an unwilling woman either. Was it that? No, it couldn’t be. Julia could have simply told Siegfried no.

  “No, no. It’s not that at all. It’s difficult to say no to someone like Siegfried. He is a good enough man, and that’s what makes it hard. I tried to get him to end it with me, made requests of him that he couldn’t possibly give me. Only, he considered them.”

  Would Siegfried still want Julia if he knew she was here? The first thing she’d do was tell Siegfried. Maybe Siegfried still loved Julia. If Freya was no longer willing, she knew Siegfried would stop the sexual part of their relationship.

  She wanted to run, weeping, after all she’d shared with him, after all she’d done with him. No matter what she felt, she’d have to bite her tongue and help him if he needed her. She’d get over the shame. The reason she cared for him was because of his cause, at least that had been her initial reason. She couldn’t blame him for looking elsewhere if he believed Julia was dead. It sounded as if he’d believed this for a long time. Because Julia had been stupid and lied, unable to just say no.

  “And that’s when you decided to fake your own death?” Freya asked finally. “It makes sense they’d welcome you here if you were Siegfried’s lover. Probably why Idunn brought me to you. To taunt you with Siegfried’s new lover. Probably hoping you’d beat me or something awful.”

  “Of course. If you’re the Remi princess, Idunn isn’t going to like you very much. Now, about Siegfried…” She sighed as if wondering how to tell Freya in polite terms. She tapped a red enameled nail on Freya’s leash. “He doesn’t have you chained like this just to keep you from escaping. Hasn’t he done anything yet? No, he hasn’t, else you’d be in tears, begging me to help you escape. But I suppose, Marked like that, you can’t. And any of the tribes who are standing up to Rome wouldn’t accept you. Aboard his ship, he has chains there, lots of chains. Whips, Freya. Do you understand?”

  “No.” Freya shook her head. “I’m still waiting for you to get to the bad part. Does he have dead bodies from former lovers under the boards? Did you wander around his boat and find some legs or noses not attached to bodies? Does he wear women’s clothing and wigs while he kills them?”

  “What are you talking about? No, nothing like that. The problem is that Siegfried likes to take control. I don’t allow customers to do that to me, in that way. Freya, being a virgin you cannot imagine. He likes—”

  “Harem ballads. He wants his own harem girl, methinks. It’s obvious from the time I spent with him.”

  “You’re comfortable with that? He is your enemy and he enjoys such things.” She gave Freya’s shoulders a shake, as if the gesture would make Freya agree with her.

  Freya thought Julia awful prudish for a whore. Her own whore impression was more believable. Waldeburg would have put Julia out of work. “Yes. I knew this before I let him take me as his slave.”

  “Let him take you? You make it sound like you wanted this.” Julia’s lip curled in
such disgust that it made Freya wince. She immediately replaced that look of revulsion with a smile. “Never mind, never mind. Tell me now, of all your travails. Surely having a friend to confide in would be most helpful.”

  Julia seemed a terrible person to confide in. Freya struck a hand to her brow. “Oh, it’s been terrible. Aside from Siegfried, of course. The wilderness is terrifying. I don’t know how people can live a nomadic lifestyle.”

  “Ah, yes, I do miss some things about Rome, too. And with just the two of you in the wood at night… But go on.” Julia gave her an eager nod.

  “Oh, it isn’t always just the two of us. Sometimes Balder comes and plays his golden lyre. His singing makes everything more pleasant.”

  “Balder? Golden lyre?”

  Freya rolled her eyes. “That’s just what I said. And Hedwig, well, you’ll know her as Nerthus, made me lots of nice things. Even these shoes that got broken.” If Julia was going to press for details, Freya was going to give her something that sounded like nonsense. Besides, Balder and Hedwig were not the most discreet. As long as she did not mention Enbarr, she was probably safe.

  Julia just gaped at Freya, as if she’d gone mad. “Y-you must be traumatized.”

  “No. My parents sent Balder and Nerthus. Nerthus lost some bet—”

  Boots crunched on the muddy rocks. Julia was not surprised to see the man who approached, but Freya was. She decided she had best play it safe and pretend not to recognize him, not that she’d ever seen him before. But really, how many men had long, black hair with gold beads and a mouth full of gold teeth? The gleam of the fire was nigh blinding off those things.

  Freya politely pretended to look at her lap as Julia greeted Merrick the Black with a kiss. She wondered if Julia cut her tongue on the man’s sharpened gold teeth.

  “What are you doing here?” Merrick asked. “Who’s the woman?”

  “Remi Princess Freya. Formerly. She’s now slave of Siegfried the Fox, who is at the main campfire, dining with Vercingetorix.” In other words, she was telling Merrick to avoid Siegfried or let him know he was here. “She needs to bathe.”