Siren Slave

by Aurora Styles

  “Enbarr warned you about that,” Hecate muttered over the rim of her wine goblet.

  Siegfried breathed a sigh of relief. At least Woden wasn’t quite as useless as he thought. He hoped the man was serious.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Freya sat across from Siegfried in a tavern in Ostia. He had been able to part the veil between the Otherworld’s waters and the Mediterranean because he’d been there before. The tavern smelled of sweat, livestock, drink, and meat. The Skull and Coin was the name of the dimly lit establishment. Siegfried was oddly silent, almost ignoring his venison.

  “What is it?” Freya dipped a finger in her dark ale and lapped a drop from her finger.

  “Remembering,” he said. “Lots of memories here. Not Julia. What it is…it’s almost guilt.” He tilted his head and scrutinized the meat on the chipped green clay platter. “This place used to be paradise, filled with old friends. They’re all gone now. Dead or fled.” He touched his neck. “I would’ve joined them, eventually, if you didn’t love me. Now, I get to live in a hall with streams of booze in bloody Asgard. Fucking Asgard. I could’ve dangled from the hempen halter without ever knowing there was a Remi princess dreaming of me. I’m damned lucky. I want you to know that.”

  Freya sniffled and dabbed at her eye. The warm look in his stormy eyes tugged at her heart. “Thank you, Master. I hope you’ll always feel that way.” Usually in public she used his first name, but because of the Marks, she was regarded as a slave here. “But Mother and Enbarr wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.”

  “I keep waiting for something to happen, to end this. I feel uneasy. I can’t shake it,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. He dropped his eating dagger.

  Freya stilled, too. There was a buzz of electricity, as if before a storm, only it wasn’t a Freya-created one. It hummed through her body, calling to her. She wanted to shift to swan form, fly amongst the lightning and rain. But her trident was aboard the River Queen.

  “There is a storm coming.” She reached across the scratched wooden table to squeeze his hand. “A real one.”

  “I know. I can feel it from the ground,” he said, managing to sound skeptical. “The animals are seeking shelter in the trees. We’ll go back to the ship. It was foolish to come here. There’s nothing for me here anymore. Anything I do have is with you.”

  “Wait. There has to be a reason you came,” Freya said. “Was there someone you wanted to look for?”

  “Friends,” he said. “Old friends.” He looked at their joined hands and closed his free hand over their entwined fingers. “But as I said, dead or fled.” He dropped a pile of gold onto the table and rose, taking her hand. “Come on. Let’s go. Let’s go home. To the River Queen.”

  There was a loud clacking. Freya recognized the sound easily. Hedwig entered the tavern in one of her tight-fitting togas. This time, it was bright yellow. The black wig had returned. She grabbed both of their arms, casting furtive glances at any male in the room.

  “Come, now,” Hedwig said in a low voice. “There’s a battle going on where you anchored your boat. Some guys tried to take the boat, but Sun Shimmer and the others are putting a stop to that. But they’ve got elves on the other boats and more Romans. I drowned a few before coming here. Oh, and Woden came. Thought you should know.”

  Siegfried pulled Freya, who wished she had her trident, out of the tavern and into the night. Hedwig struggled behind them in her heels.

  “Uh, you may want to wait for me,” Hedwig said, pulling off her shoes. “Probably best if we go out there with two finfolk.”

  “Siegfried,” Freya said, eyeing the bustling folk of Ostia, many of whom were drunk. “There are too many people around for me to shift.”

  “Like I said, we got Woden and Sun Shimmer leading, so not too much to worry about,” Hedwig said as they ran. “A few seconds isn’t going to make a huge difference.”

  “What is Woden doing here?” Freya asked.

  “He said he’s going to prove himself and get the boat back. He said if you could do it, he’s not going to be outdone. You remember when you got the boat back from the…whatever they’re called? Versing-Get-Tricks’ people?” The Averni. “Woden’s spear is kind of making up for the fact that his powers are terrible.”

  “Is he alone?” Siegfried said, eyes narrowing.

  “Oh, no. You’re Freya’s husband—”

  “He was serious about that?” Freya asked.

  “Yes. He does shit like that all the time. So, anyway, this is considered a direct attack on the Aesir and Asgard. He’s got some of his Aesir warriors. Now that Loki’s come out into the open, Woden’s in full-on war mode. And not just against some stupid giants.”

  As they neared the harbor, they could hear distant shouts and a booming voice bellowing things like, “The Aesir will bathe in your blood, cowardly dogs,” “For Asgard’s honor,” “Woden loves his Freya,” “Wholesale slaughter for the baby,” and strangest of all, “What the hell is the difference between an orchid and a calla lily? They’re both flowers, woman.” Freya guessed wedding planning was taxing the man.

  When they were away from the village and hidden in the shadows, Freya flew, holding onto Siegfried. The scene below was illuminated by the bright lightning. Woden and the Aesir, all wearing the green and silver of Asgard, were scattered amongst several ships. It was hard to count how many among the roiling sea.

  Woden was on deck of one of the Roman boats, a trireme. He was surrounded by elves and Romans, armed with human weapons. Somehow, he’d become separated from the other Aesir.

  Can’t let him be killed. Not my father. He’s not really useless. He’s got principles, too.

  Freya focused her powers, felt for the blood flowing through their enemies’ veins. She didn’t need blueberry ale now to master her powers, but she wanted it.

  Get through this. Explode the enemies. Save your people. Have booze and booty with Siegfried.

  Lightning wouldn’t work. The boat would burn and sink, probably taking people with it.

  She wanted to close her eyes when the first elf’s blood erupted from his pores, soon sending his guts and flesh spattering those near him. She couldn’t. She needed to aim her attacks. Must keep looking so I don’t pop the wrong person.

  “Gods, Siegfried. I just figured it out,” Freya said. It was as if lightning struck her head. Well, to be fair, actual lightning almost did hit her actual head, because she’d lost her concentration.

  “What?” He raised both brows at her.

  “Why people wear uniforms into battle. I always wondered about it.” Chatting seemed to ease her nerves about her gory power. Besides, she had to share this revelation. “I always thought people who wore uniforms were stupid, because then the enemy would know exactly who to kill. Like the Romans. How could anyone miss those red horse tails? Right? Might as well just wear a really big target. But now I figured it’s so your friends don’t accidentally kill you. The green and gold is like a big ‘Freya, don’t make me go boom’ sign.”

  He gave her ass a pinch under her armored skirt. “That would be the idea, love.” He was chuckling. How she loved that sound. “Put me in a spot so I can cover your father. I’d prefer you stay with me.”

  She placed him in the rigging where he could easily keep Woden’s back safe. Siegfried started to say something, but she didn’t hear him. Not when the battle was calling, not when a storm was booming above. The Fomori and Aesir blood beat strong in her veins. The lightning she called to her trident was crackling too loudly.

  She sprang from the wooden beam, spreading her wings, her trident leading the way. The lightning served to deflect most of the attacks against her. It sparked from the trident, forming a kind of shield around her. Of course, it burned thorough many of the assailants, but progress was not so swift. She constantly had to retreat through the air, then dive again, lest she accidentally hit someone wearing silver and green.

  “That’s my daughter,” Woden said, pointing upwards
. “Ah, Freya, shouldn’t you not be fighting, considering your condition?”

  She gave him a big smile. She’d tell him the truth after their wedding was publicly acknowledged. “The screams of our enemies will nourish the babe. The cheers of victory later will strengthen him.” There. That sounded like something he’d want to hear about the nonexistent child. Yes, he was giving her an approving nod.

  She smelled blood, familiar blood. Not Berengar’s this time, but Hartwin’s and Faramund’s. When she looked in that direction, she espied Hedwig on another of the Roman boats. She had climbed up a net on the side. Why hadn’t she used a water spout?

  Freya flew to the angry waters, illuminated by the lightning and the fire from the burning arrows. She then climbed up the side of the same boat to join Hedwig, both of them unnoticed in the shadows.

  “What are you doing?” Freya curled her hands curled around the thick fibers of the coarse twine.

  “Well, Hartwin and Faramund are aboard this boat, so I’m trying to figure out why and…there’s one thing I really want. I’m trying to figure out how to get it.” Hedwig peeped over the edge of the deck again.

  Freya followed her gaze and swallowed. “Pompey?” She remembered the Sea Witch’s reaction to him back in Folkvang. “You really want us to keep him alive?”

  “He interests me,” Hedwig said. “Maybe because the fey don’t age. Maybe because he’s such an ass. I have no idea. And I may have made Long Hard Night with him in mind.”

  Hedwig hadn’t asked for anything, but she had been there when Freya needed her so many times. “All right, let’s get you Pompey while we get Hartwin and Faramund. What are they doing here anyway?”

  “No idea,” Hedwig said.

  “And how did you know they were here?” Hedwig couldn’t have smelled them, after all.

  Hedwig looked uncomfortable with the question. “I…I have a sense about attractive males.”

  Pompey was yelling orders to his men, making gestures with his arms. He stayed near the railing, probably believing it safe. Little did he know that a waiting Sea Witch lurked nearby.

  Freya rid herself of her tail, switching back to her armor. “Psst, Pompey.” When he didn’t hear her, she snatched a chain of pearls from her hair and tossed it at him. She missed, but at least the jewelry falling near his feet caught his attention. She had an idea. “Over here,” Freya waved an arm. “We request the right of parlay.”

  “Freya? Parlay?” Pompey paused a moment before he lowered his gladius. “Your right of parlay is granted. Come aboard.”

  “Whoa, that really does work,” Freya said.

  “What’s parlay?” Hedwig asked. “Don’t you mean parsley? My breath is already fresh.”

  Freya sighed. It was clear who was real pirate and who was not. “Anyone who wants to go onto any boat for whatever reason invokes the right. You can’t hurt the other people and they can’t hurt you.”

  Hedwig shifted to her human form, the water forming into a tight purple and yellow scaled garment that revealed her long legs. Her heels, of course, were back.

  Freya and Hedwig climbed aboard. Well, she flew.

  “Leave your weapon here.” Pompey shouted orders for the women not to be harmed, explaining they’d invoked the right of parlay. “Come, to the captain’s quarters. We’ll have a drink and discuss.” It wasn’t as if Freya needed a weapon with her powers and the concession of the right of parlay.

  “I still have my flogger,” Hedwig whispered. “If I don’t use it now, I’ll use it later.” Freya didn’t want to know.

  The captain’s quarters were below decks. They were as richly appointed as Siegfried’s—heavy, oak furnishings, silks, tapestries of Roman gods. Only Pompey had couches. Strangest of all, Hartwin and Faramund sat with Pompey. Hostages were sometimes treated well.

  “It seems you have something I want…and something Hedwig wants.” Freya stretched out on a triclinium couch, and Hedwig sat at her side. The room smelled of incense. Pompey rose to fetch them drinks. It was all red wine. Trier and dry. It made her think of Siegfried. She didn’t drink hers, only pretended to sip. But Hedwig pulled a bottle of white wine out of her satchel.

  “Why did the two of you wish to parlay?” Pompey asked, watching the Sea Witch with interest.

  “We’ll spare you,” Freya said. “If you stand down and call off your men, tell us who you’re working with, and give me back my friends. You do realize you’re fighting Woden, right? The man who is crazy enough to fight in a loincloth in a blizzard? That’s my father. My real one.”

  “Woden, Hecate,” Pompey said with a shrug. Why wasn’t he impressed? “We’ve got Loki. You had me fooled when you apologized, Freya. Then Odilia showed me the scrolls. She was right to implicate you in your human parents’ murders.”

  Freya went cold inside. The prior battling had abated some of her fury, but now it was rekindling. She suppressed it. “We’re offering you something better than death. You should listen, because after being around Odilia, you’ll like this. You really couldn’t have enjoyed working with her, could you?”

  “She was intelligent,” Pompey said. “Loyal. On the right side.”

  “No, she wasn’t, because I’m not on that side,” Hedwig said, stroking her thigh. “Who would you rather at your side? Her or me? Or Loki?”

  “If you put it that way, the choice is obvious,” Pompey said, his gaze following Hedwig’s hand as it lingered at the hem of her tight scale skirt.

  “I still owe you for touching my arm. I don’t think you realized you were with the Sea Bitch. You’re going to come with me. You need to be taught manners.” She licked her lips and removed what appeared to be a kelp whip with shell and coral barbs and little scaly green ribbons above said barbs. “So, that’s what we wanted to tell you, Pompey. I’m claiming my spoils.”

  Pompey looked at a loss for words and began to gasp when Hedwig made her clothing transparent. “I’m not…uh, ah, too old for you?”

  “I’m much older than you. If you lose your stamina, I have a nice potion. So, what’ll it be?”

  “Gods, woman, I’ll go with you,” Pompey said.

  “I thought so.” Hedwig rose and smashed a window with her heel, breaking the shoe, of course. “I’ve got extras. Let me get a sea beast, and we’ll go. Down nice and deep to Hedwig’s Deep Sea Caves.” Hedwig giggled at the obvious innuendo.

  Hartwin gave Freya an apologetic look and Faramund grabbed her arm. She felt cold human metal burning between her shoulders. Faramund looked grim, and Hartwin could no longer face her.

  “What?” Hedwig gaped.

  “Consider it an exchange,” Faramund said. “You have Pompey; we have Freya.”

  “I’ll kill him if you don’t release her,” Hedwig said, holding her other shoe over Pompey’s head.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Faramund said. “Freya’s a much more valuable hostage. Pompey was only a means to an end. We have our end here.”

  “Go,” Freya shouted. She didn’t fully understand, but she knew enough that Hedwig should get away. “Get Siegfried. Take Pompey and question him. Hartwin and Faramund won’t hurt me.” At least, she hoped not.

  ****

  Siegfried tried to concentrate, but he was not seeing Freya. Her trident hadn’t flashed in a long time, and he was growing worried. He was keeping Woden clear of too many attackers as they cleared the ship of Romans and elves. Why had she flown away? He felt a stab of pain in his back, but he hadn’t been hit. What the hell had happened to her? Every time she was out of his sight…

  “Cease,” yelled an elf above the din. The elf shoved his way through the battle on the decks of Woden’s ship, carrying a very familiar trident.

  “Where the hell is my daughter?” Woden demanded, the same time Siegfried said his wife’s name.

  “Imprisoned,” the elf said. “We will kill her if you do not stand down. She sits with human blades against her throat.”

  Siegfried’s stomach roiled. He did something that he’d neve
r done in his entire life. He begged. “What do you want in exchange for her? Please, just let her go.” She was relying on him to save her again.

  “You want a war with Asgard, elf?” Woden demanded. “The woman is with child. Have you no shame?”

  “Loki is our leader,” the elf said. “You’ve already declared war on him. Stand down, and we’ll keep her alive.”

  Woden called off the Aesir, and time passed in a blur. Siegfried later vomited over the side of Woden’s ship, Skidbladnir. For all his enemies had tried, they’d never struck in him so vital a spot. He didn’t know where the River Queen was. Even if he did, he couldn’t go aboard. How could he go to the captain’s quarters? It would be empty without her warming his bed, without her laughter. Nearly every item in that room would be a useless reminder of her, of his failure to keep her safe. No, he was getting her back.

  “You love her, don’t you?” Woden came to stand at his side, joining him in looking across the black waters.

  “More than my own bloody life.” Siegfried clenched a fist.

  “We’ll get her back,” Woden said. He didn’t think Woden really believed that.

  “Nasty,” said a low voice. “Vomit in the sea.” Hedwig’s head popped above the surface. She was dragging a man with her, a very familiar man. Anger surged in Siegfried, but he waited until Hedwig was aboard with Pompey. He grabbed Pompey by the shoulder and landed a punch in his teeth.

  “How the hell did she get caught?” he demanded when Woden hauled him away from Pompey.

  “Save him his teeth so we can question him,” Woden said, scowling at the Roman with his single eye.

  “Pompey’s mine,” Hedwig said. “I claimed him as my share of the booty or whatever. Besides, like Freya said, we should question him.”

  “This is what you ask for? For your help, you want him?” Siegfried said, gesturing to Pompey.

  “I agreed to go…with her.” Pompey spat blood. “The women came to me, requested parlay, not realizing Rome doesn’t subscribe to barbarian rules. I agreed to go with Hedwig, but her friends have been working with us since they discovered she had magic.”