The ship was smaller than it looked, though it melted the ice where it landed. As it did, the Valkyrie lights faded and the orbs deployed, giving the landscape a faux daylight.
They were about to meet whoever wanted them there.
He raised the hammer.
Stairs unfolded from the bay doors and a woman in black strode down toward them with purpose. She was Valkyrie tall, much like Mercy, but with laser guns strapped to her hips and thighs. The badge on her breastplate gleamed in the light and her hair… it was her hair that got him.
It was blood red. Just like Mercy’s.
“I see you got my message, Berserker.” She smirked. “Although a bit early. You’re lucky the homing beacon activated or you would’ve been stuck here for a good long while.”
“Early? Just who the hell are you?”
Mercy stepped out from behind him, shivering even though she was dressed in the tech suit. Her eyes were wide, and full—brimming with unshed tears.
“He told me you were dead,” she breathed.
“The Interstellar Commission told him I was dead.” She held open her arms, and Mercy flung herself into the woman’s arms.
This was the great Valkyrie Eir—Mercy’s supposedly dead mother.
There was a moment when he feared for his balls, and he was not ashamed. Her name was spoken with reverence and fear throughout the ‘verse. There was no star system that did not know of her great deeds. She would live on forever in the tales told of her labors.
“Why?” Mercy asked.
He felt her fear, her joy, and even the sense of betrayal that she wanted to keep hidden deep down where no one could see. Magnus kept to himself, though he wanted to comfort her. Maybe Eir had planned on him saving her daughter, but she might not have planned on their bond. How could she?
“I see the fire in your eyes. You two have the bond.” She smiled. “For that, I am glad. You are the one I chose for her.”
He raised a brow.
“The Grandmother cast the runes when Mercy was born. I knew you would be the one to unleash her Valkyrie.” Eir nodded. “She will do great things, as will you. Come.”
He was still wary.
“As you like it, Berserker. Bring your hammer, if it suits you.”
“I don’t understand any of this,” Mercy said.
“I’ll explain it to you over some honey mead and bread,” Eir began to lead her up the stairs.
Magnus could be on board for mead, warm bread and of course, where Mercy went, he would follow. As it must be.
While he was grateful that their benefactor seemed to indeed be an ally, and he was glad to be getting off that no-name rock, he wondered what her ulterior motives were and how he was going to deal with those other big questions.
Like revenge.
Justice.
Honor.
What those things meant to him now that he had a Valkyrie of his own.
Magnus was content to stay still and observe mother and daughter as they spoke, as they drank the mead. But Eir hadn’t answered Mercy’s questions. Not really.
He too wanted answers.
When there was a lull in conversation, he spoke. “You never really answered Mercy’s questions about why the world was supposed to think you were dead.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t.”
“I think you should.”
“It’s classified.” The Valkyrie lifted her chin. “Suffice to say, I made my sacrifices and now you’ll be called upon to make yours.”
“You don’t think I’ve made sacrifices, Eir?”
“No.” Her all-seeing eyes told him that she did. “I know you have. And I know you must again.”
“How did you know I’d be on Hel?”
“Because I’m the one who told Odin to capture you.”
Fury boiled and his fingers tightened into fists. The Berserker part of him flared to brutish life, but he forced it back down like bile. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“I will not ask your forgiveness. Maybe, in time, you will come to thank me.”
“Why would I ever do that?” He tried not to snarl.
“Because I knew that even frozen, when Mercy’s need was dire, you’d awaken and protect her.”
“That’s an awful lot of faith to put in an old woman and her runes.”
She nodded. “Yes, yes it is, but it’s all I had. And you did save her. You brought her to me.”
“I thought we were going to die down there,” he confessed.
“Yet, you knew somehow, that it would be okay.”
She was right, but that didn’t make her cloak and dagger bullshit any easier to live with.
“Why would you leave Mercy with such a man? You could’ve made arrangements.”
“No, as long as Odin found her useful, she was safer there.”
“Do you know what awakened me? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was by sheer luck that I was already awake or Fenris would’ve raped her.”
Eir’s expression melted into a mask of fear, fear that was too late to have been of any use. “But you were there, Destroyer.” She reached out a battle-scarred hand and covered his own. “I think you have half-earned that name from the words you speak as well as the war hammer you swing.”
“You may be right,” he acquiesced. Magnus had meant to cut her with his words, but then felt a twinge of guilt for doing so. It seemed like she’d never thought about any of the things that could go wrong, that she’d painted up some pretty dance in her head.
Yet, he wondered. If he’d been faced with the same choices, would he have focused on all the good things that could’ve happened or all the bad?
However, focusing on something didn’t make a thing any more or less true. A thing is what it is, regardless of how they felt about it.
He was done berating her, though, so he switched subjects. “Does your mission involve Rollo?”
“That I can tell you. Yes, it does. I have been undercover in his household since you’ve been frozen. The Interstellar Commission doesn’t want him as King of Saxony any more than you do.”
“Your daughter said I should kill him.”
Eir cast a startled glance at Mercy. “Indeed? Would you pull the trigger?”
“I never said it would be easy, but he’s horrible. He hurts people, and he’ll hurt more people.”
“You could say that about half the ‘verse. What makes him so special? And who are you to judge?” Eir gently reprimanded her.
Mercy straightened, eyes flashing, and her Valkyrie power showed itself. “I am a Valkyrie. It’s my duty to protect those who can’t protect themselves.”
“By aiming your Berserker like a gun? If you think a man should lose his life, then you should be the one to take it. Carry out the sentence you hand down, my daughter.”
“Fine. Teach me how to use that gun.”
Magnus closed his eyes. “That is not the right answer.”
“Isn’t it?” Eir cocked her head to the side. “If you’re not willing to give up your pursuit of vengeance, you’re dragging her into it. And if you put her in the middle of a war, shouldn’t she know how to defend herself?”
“I hadn’t decided.”
“So now it’s up to you to decide her future?”
“Isn’t it?” he threw the words back at her. “You put that on me when you asked me to choose between justice and Mercy.”
“There can be no justice without mercy. It takes a strong man to deliver both.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“I think it is. You’ll see that as well, in time.”
“I think you two are forgetting that neither one of you will decide my future. I will. If I wish to learn how to use a gun, I will. If I choose to kill a man that needs killing, I will. And if I choose Magnus’s vengeance to deliver justice for a whole murdered tribe—I am a Valkyrie, and I will choose it.”
The walls of the ship resonated with her words.
Magnus c
ouldn’t have been more proud and displeased at the same moment. The things that he admired in her were the same things that he couldn’t protect her from. He couldn’t protect her from herself—from making her own choices.
But if he chose to let Rollo go and ended up living on some sweet environed planet with waterfalls and beaches, green for miles, could he stand to live with the guilt for letting Boudicea’s killer go free? Could he stand to look in the eyes of his children, meet their gazes knowing he’d walked away from punishing Rollo?
Or worse, could he look in their eyes knowing it was his fault—that he put some ideal before their mother and that’s why she was dead?
Mercy put her hand on his shoulder. “Stop it.”
He found that he couldn’t meet her eyes, much like the imaginary children he’d conjured who wore her face.
“He’s a blight on the ‘verse, Magnus. You wouldn’t hunt him if he didn’t have it coming.”
But did Mercy deserve what this could mean?
“What if I told you that the Commission would see it done? What do you think I’ve been doing with these years of my life? I will end him, but I can’t make him a martyr. These scum are all hydra. You cut off one head, many grow strong to claim the rubble. It takes time.”
“I should let someone else fight my battles?” He bristled at the thought.
“No, but maybe it’s not only your battle. He’s hurt so many. You don’t have to be the hero,” Eir said.
“I am no hero, never wanted to be. If I was a hero, I would’ve saved the Acadians.”
“You were just a boy.”
“I was a Berserker full grown,” he corrected her.
“Barely away from your mother’s house,” Eir added gently. “You have much to think on together. I’ll show you to your quarters. We have a few hours before we reach Lycaos Four.”
Chapter Seven
Her whole world had just come undone and rebuilt itself.
Her mother was alive.
She’d come for her.
Mercy had so many questions, but it seemed like she was unwilling to answer even the slightest. Then it occurred to her that maybe it was simply too hard to speak of. Valkyries were strong, but their intensity applied to more than just battle. They felt everything keenly, much like the Berserkers did.
She tried to imagine what it must’ve been like to make that choice, to leave her child. She couldn’t fathom it, and even though Mercy knew it wasn’t the case, she felt like maybe she was somehow unworthy. That’s why her mother left her—she didn’t want her.
But she knew Eir loved her.
Mercy remembered one of their last trips to a reserve planet together before her “death.” Eir cried, told her again and again how much she loved her and to never forget. Her mother must have known then that she was leaving.
She thought about what Magnus said about Rollo.
Her mother had made the right choice, but it wasn’t one that Mercy thought she’d be capable of making.
Magnus spoke first when they were alone in their quarters. “I don’t know what to do here.”
“We’ll go to Lycaos Four then decide.”
“Lycaos Four, where it’s all sunshine and greenery. The perfect setting for happily ever after and Mercy, I just don’t know if I can do it.”
“We’ll decide together.”
“That’s the thing. I can’t stand the thought of you facing down a pig like Rollo. You have the heart of a Valkyrie, but you don’t have the skills. You haven’t been trained.”
“So train me.”
“He’s been on borrowed breath for fifteen years.”
“So what’s one more? Do you fear someone else will kill him instead of you?”
“Yes, godsdamnit. Why shouldn’t I be the one to kill him? Why shouldn’t I be the one to watch the light go out in his eyes with the knowledge that I was the one who snuffed it? Why not?” he snarled.
“Because you want it too much.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “You want it so bad that you can taste it. He’ll use your emotion against you. Even I know that.”
“And what do you think he’d do to you? How am I supposed to concentrate when I’m worried about you?”
“With you to teach me, why should you worry?” She eased down next to him. “I’m not really a Valkyrie yet, am I? For all my talk, I’m not a complement to your power. I’m a hindrance.” She looked down at her hands. “I was just thinking earlier about the last time I was with my mother.”
Mercy waited for him to be exasperated with her because she’d changed the subject, but he listened as if what she had to say was important. She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to that.
“We went to a reserve planet, you know, where they have all kinds of animals in habitats from many systems? The earth one resonated with me the most. It stuck in my head. There were these great predatory cats, sleek and larger than a man.”
“Mercy—”
“No, let me finish. The way they would hunt. They would follow the tribe of gazelles, these springy-footed creatures, quick, tasty. They would watch and see which were the slow, the sick, and they’d quickly cut them off from the herd.”
“You’re not a gazelle.”
“I am. I’m the slow one that’s lagging behind. But that’s okay.” She nodded. “Maybe we can use that to our advantage.” She looked up at him, watching his face for signs of rejection, or to see if his expression was a closed mask as he waited for her to finish.
Again, he wanted to hear what she had to say.
“We make sure the ‘verse knows what happened to me. There will be a big fuss made until Odin can hide me away again. That is, if he survived the riot on Holle and Hel. Rollo will want to be part of that.”
“That could be genius.”
“I really wish my mother would tell me what the Commission’s plans were. If we could be sure.”
“The Commission is made up of politicians. They’ve had fifteen years to handle Rollo. We’ll take care of him.”
“I like that you said we. I really thought you were going to tell me to stay out of it.”
“I’d like nothing better, but you were right earlier. I can’t make those choices for you, even if I don’t like them.”
“Have you ever been to Lycaos Four?”
“No, but I’ve heard it’s lovely.”
“I don’t know if anything will be as lovely as our purple pool.” She grinned.
“It could be that same kind of lovely right here, right now.” He pulled her close, but then grimaced. “Actually, since it’s been fifteen years, I might need a few more hours to recuperate.”
She laughed. “Good. I was just thinking I’d love to do it again. Later.”
“How about I just hold you?”
“I think one of my tutors said that men would use that to get me into bed.”
“I’ve already got you in bed, so that kind of negates that.”
“Hmm, I suppose.” But she was content to lean into him, to let him close his arms around her and block out the world. “Whatever happens, I’m not sorry.” She didn’t just mean him holding her in this moment, she meant all of it and she wanted him to know.
“No, me either.”
She must’ve slept after that because it seemed like only a few seconds later when the pre-landing alarm sounded. They’d arrived at Lycaos Four.
Mercy quickly righted herself and met her mother in the main part of the ship, with Magnus not far behind.
“When next you see me, you may not recognize me. But I’ll be there,” Eir said.
“You’re not coming with us?” Mercy hated how weak and needy she sounded, but she’d only just found her mother and now she was leaving her again.
“Oh honey, I can’t. Eir is supposed to be dead, remember? I jeopardized not only my cover, but the mission as well. I have to get back to Rollo. But I’ve arranged transport and accommodations.”
“For how long?” Mercy asked quietly and Magnus’s warmth
at her back bolstered her.
“For always.” Her mother touched her face.
“You know that’s not what I meant. When will you come back?”
“When I can.” Eir’s eyes were wide, tremulous, but her mouth was set in a grim line. “When I’ve done what I said I would do. I love you, Mercy.”
“Mama,” she whispered.
Eir pulled her into a fierce hug, and to Magnus she said, “You take care of her, do you hear me? And let her take care of you. Think about that before you leave this planet to go charging after revenge. There’s a reason the ancients said it was a dish best served cold.”
She was determined not to cry. Finding out that her mother was alive was a gift. Mercy was determined not to lament such a joyous thing, even if it meant saying goodbye again. She remembered what her mother had told her that last day at the reserve planet.
“Goodbye is not forever.” She hugged her tight.
“Until we meet again, Mercy.”
When the stairs deployed, Magnus took her hand and led her down toward the light.
The first thing she noticed was how bright everything was—even more so than she remembered. The red sun burned high in the sky, supporting all manner of blooming plant life. In fact, the hangar where they’d landed seemed so out of place. It was a harsh, sharp structure that cut through the landscape. It seemed like a terrible blight.
Whispers rustled through the crowd like crinkling of old, forbidden paper. “The Destroyer.”
Of course they knew who he was, but she supposed it was just as well the people didn’t know her.
She wondered if her father was even looking for them, and if he was, if he cared what happened to her or if he only wanted his assets back.
She wished for the first, but assumed the latter.
Mercy shook her head. She’d left that life behind. This was something new—these people before her were people her mother trusted. They wore simple clothes, the men in plain togas, the women in white dresses. Some wore silver jewelry, armlets that seemed to serve as both adornment and armor.
Magnus’s fingers tightened around hers and she felt the waves of emotion that crashed over him.
She realized they knew him because they were Acadians.
Viking's Fury Page 5