Curse of the Valkyries

by Rachel Tsoumbakos

  A spark flew and ignited the dry tinder in the small fire pit and she could see Helgi with more clarity now.

  “How are our sons?” Helgi asked while he tended the fire.

  “They are saddened that you are gone, that they will never see you in the flesh again. Ake is determined to avenge your death, even at his young age.”

  Helgi smiled as she stared at the fire. “Tell Ake that he is more important than merely seeking my revenge. He must go on, not to fight, but to have as many children as he can. All of our children must. They are our only hope against Ragnarok.”

  Sigrun felt a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the cold earth of the barrow surrounding them. Freya and Odin’s words on the battlefield came back to haunt her. At the time, she hadn’t known what they meant but now she understood fully. Sigrun had been used by the gods. Helgi too.

  “How do you know this?”

  “Freya told me so.”

  Sigrun nodded. The one goddess she thought might not betray her. She closed her eyes in anger and the pain of the treachery.

  “Are you alright, Sigrun?”

  She looked up at her beloved, wanting to tell him about how the gods had used them so thoroughly. But saw instead the man that she could never refuse, the one who she knew was innocent in all of this, as much a victim as herself in this entire mess. Instead of answering him, she smiled and reached out towards her husband, welcoming him to her.

  Helgi didn’t need to be asked twice. He rushed over to the raised platform and leaned over Sigrun, their lips so close, yet not touching. Sigrun could feel the heat of his body, the fire warming him already. Water still dripped from his hair but his clothes were starting to dry out.

  Reaching up, Sigrun ran her fingers over Helgi’s wiry beard, over the divot where he had been scarred in battle, through his hair. Her other hand came up also, reaching across his broad shoulders, feeling the gathering of muscles under her fingertips. She dug her nails in, wanting to feel more of him, desiring to see his reaction to her rough touch. Sigrun wanted to feel everything in relation to him now.

  Rushing forward, she closed the gap between their lips and felt their mouths meld together, hot on hot as their breath mingled. Their tongues clashed and Sigrun moaned in delight, her fingers tangling in his hair and her body arched up underneath him, wanting to feel the touch of him along the entirety of her body.

  Helgi’s breath quickened and his hands began to drift along her body. Sigrun kissed him deeply, hanging onto him as though by doing so, she would never lose him again, hoping desperately that this was the case.

  His hand ran down one side of her, searching. When it found the edge of the fabric, his fingers teased underneath and continued to meander up her calf, taking her skirts with it.

  Sigrun threw her head back and groaned as his hand reached her knee and then changed course to roam up the inside of her thigh. She bit down on her bottom lip and her nails dug deeper into Helgi’s back.

  His fingers slowed as they approached their target and Sigrun mewled until he finally reached her trigger, her spot that only he had touched. Her body bucked underneath him and their kiss broke long enough for Helgi to rise up a little and gaze deep into her eyes. Tears instantly overflowed and Helgi leaned in once more, kissing the wetness away. They kissed again, their tongues writhing, wrestling with each other as their breaths came in desperate pants.

  Sigrun could feel herself approaching the edge of the precipice, her whole body lost in the sensations that only Helgi could provide.

  “Please,” she begged and Helgi knew exactly what she needed.

  He sat up and untangled himself from her. Sigrun felt cold from the separation and was ready to complain until she opened her eyes and saw Helgi talking his clothes off. Flinging them across the barrow, he reached down and brought Sigrun’s skirt up higher. She wriggled down and raised her arms, making it easier for him to rip her clothes off her body.

  The wet shock of his mouth on her nipple caused her to yelp out. But, as he suckled, she settled underneath him once more, his drawing making her insides contract in delight.

  A cold breeze blew over her nipple and Sigrun found herself gasping in surprise once more.

  Helgi thrust into her, her clothes now free of her body and she raised up to hug her husband, to feel the length of him crushing against her as they pounded rhythmically.

  Faster and faster they bucked until Sigrun could feel the tension between them, knew that the end was close. She ran her fingers up Helgi’s back, clasping his shoulders and looking deep into his eyes as they both climaxed together. Sighing, Sigrun relaxed back into the bed furs as Helgi collapsed on top of her.

  The last thing she remembered as they drifted off to sleep was the words that Helgi whispered to her.

  “I love you.”

  As Sigrun opened her eyes, she wished the dawn had never arrived for it would mean the last she saw of Helgi in this life. She had no idea how she knew this, only that it was true. Turning, she saw Helgi peacefully sleeping, already turning cold like he had been when she first approached him yesterday.

  She shook her head, determined not to cry, not to cause him misery on the other side. Sitting up, she quietly dressed trying hard not to remember the previous night for fear she would break down, that her tears would soak through and drown them both.

  No, she had children to raise and it would be some time still before she could return home, to seek shelter in death.

  Sigrun closed her eyes briefly at the thought of how long it would be before she saw her lover again. She was starting to understand why the gods chose to remain separate from human life, from venturing to Midgard very often. Loving mortals hurt too much.

  Biting her lip hard, she concentrated on the pain of that rather than of losing Helgi once more. She thought it would be the end of her when she had been Svafa and lost him the first time. Now, he was gone again and this time hurt worse because she had witnessed the effect her desolation—her tears—had on him. No, she had to be strong. She had to carry on and live this dreadful life until it was done, until her boys were old enough to look after themselves. Then, and only then, could Sigrun lay down and die, to let her sorrow consume her completely.

  Pulling her shoes on, she cursed Freya and Odin for giving her this repeated misery. She loved Helgi. It hurt to breathe without him but the agony was even greater knowing that someday they would be reborn once more, he a mere mortal and her an eternal Valkyrie. Sigrun would suffer again in the midst of loving him.

  Why had the gods done this to her? She shook her fist at the air, angry at their involvement, bitter that she had once wanted this life to continue like this, cycle after cycle.

  Standing, Sigrun turned and gazed down at her beloved. His breath was shallow now. She didn’t want to wake him or to leave him since both would result in her losing him once more. Instead, she leaned over and gently pressed her lips to Helgi’s before turning and walking out the door.

  Grab you copy of The Breaker of Curses (Valkyrie Secrets #3) here.

  If you enjoyed this book, please make sure to leave a review on Amazon and Goodreads. A long review is not needed, just by adding a short sentence or two can help other potential readers find this book.

  SNEAK PEEK AT BOOK #3 – The Breaker of Curses

  PROLOGUE

  Ravens circled the ship and King Olaf should have known immediately that trouble was brewing. The fact that the sky was a brooding grey and the wind buffeted his longships only added extra incentive for the king to want to leave this location. The sooner he reached Norway, the better.

  However, before he had reason, a fleet approached him. They bled through the fog and grey clouds appearing much closer than Olaf would have liked. A sense of foreboding dread covered him as the wind rushed over the bow of his ship.

  “I see ships approaching,” Kari said excitedly as he rushed up to stand next to the king.

  “I can certainly see that,” Olaf replied, irritated at the man for
stating the obvious.

  Being so close, Olaf he could already see individuals crowding in to stare back at Olaf’s own men.

  “Look at that hideous mug over there!” Kari said before spitting over the edge of the longship. Olaf followed Kari’s finger and saw the beast of a man. He nodded in agreeance.

  “Oi!” Kari continued, this time raising his voice and beckoning at the ship, which was now slowing and pulling up alongside Olaf’s longboat. “You in the front, the ugly one.”

  The man in question pointed at himself and leaned forward. His face was red, not from anger but because of some sort of birthmark that coloured one side of his face. Crisscrossed over this mark was a multitude of scars. Some were lines from weapons, others looked like the pocks left over from his teenage years. One of his eyes was too round while the other seemed to be permanently squinting down own his bulbous nose.

  “Are you talking to me?” the unsightly man finally said.

  “Of course, I am! There’s no one else on board your ship that is less attractive than you,” Kari replied. “Why don’t you lean on over a bit more and let me cut you up into little pieces. It might make you prettier.”

  The man sneered at Kari and reached for his battle axe. “I’ll cut you if I get my hands on you!” he roared in challenge.

  “Now, that sounds like a plan,” Kari laughed as he pulled his own weapon.

  The air around them thickened and Olaf knew that this was the trouble he had felt brewing. The ravens had known it also and now they squawked high above them.

  “I’ll see you on the shore,” the man threatened as the ship eased further past them.

  Kari turned and looked at Olaf who simply shrugged. There was no point telling Kari he couldn’t fight the man. After all, the stranger had suggested it. To step back from such an offer would belittle Kari. Plus, a fight would do them all good. None on board had drawn blood for many weeks and they were all on edge with each other. This fight would help stop all the heckling that had been occurring between the men over the last few days.

  Chapter 1: KARA

  The sky was oppressive as Kara gazed down through the fog of clouds.

  She had been born in the midst of a storm just like this, Freya once told her. Her mother had laboured for days until she died shortly after bringing Kara into the world. And so, she had been handed over to her father, who promptly called down the Valkyries to claim their daughter.

  Her mother’s death had nearly broken her father, Halfdan. Apparently, before her mother perished, he had been much kinder than he was now. To Kara, though, it was no excuse for the bitter terror he inflicted on the lands now.

  A blaze of lightning lit up the sky and for a moment Kara saw a small figure down on the lands far below. She leaned forward on her steed and wondered who was there, if this man was the one that she was looking for.

  As the rolling boom of thunder shook the earth, Kara could feel it shake her body, a feeling deep inside that always excited her.

  There had been a reason the Valkyries named her Kara. She certainly was stormy, just like her name meant. Her eyes glistened with excitement and she panted as the thunder struck again and again, never really rolling away, always rumbling in the background.

  It was moments like tonight that she thanks the gods for her position.

  Another streak of lightning hit, lighting up the sky once more and Kara squinted down through the clouds and saw the man again. Kicking her heels into her grey mare, she descended through the clouds, approaching the figure far below.

  Kara alternated between forcing her horse forward and then pulling back on the animal’s mane to slow it down. Over the years, she had heard the stories, whispered to her behind the backs of Freya and Odin. The Valkyries that had lived long before her told stories of who she really was, of names that had once belonged to her.

  Svafa. Sigrun.

  Both resonated deep within. Kara could believe she was once these women, had served alongside the Valkyries in different lifetimes.

  She knew the names belonged to her.

  The closer she came to the earth of Midgard, the more the wind buffeted her. Kara’s hair whipped around in the blustery air, slapping against her face and stinging her eyes with its ferocity. A chill settled as her mare touched down on the ground and Kara wished she had worn shoes, not because the cold worried her but because she suddenly felt underdressed.

  Kara stepped down from her horse and approached the barrow. It was a place she had visited before, a place her sisters had told her all about.

  Helgi’s barrow.

  Why was this man here also?

  “Who are you?” Kara asked, storming forward, protective of her place.

  She had spent many days here, sitting and waiting, wondering if she would ever find out the truth about the stories the Valkyries told her. She had also listened to the whispers of her own memories, unsure at how accurate they really were since her memories and dreams seemed to feel the same as they occurred and she was never really entirely sure which was which.

  The man turned quickly, standing and backing away at the sight of her.

  She imagined she would be intimidating, her copper hair a mess as it lashed around her in a flurry of activity. Her dress was grey, as grey as the day around them and hung down to her ankles. However, with the wind so violently working around them, it flapped around her legs, flaring out and getting caught in the strong gusts. Her feet were muddy from jumping down from her horse. Placing her hands firmly on her hips, Kara jutted out her chin and eyed the man suspiciously.

  “This is the grave of my ancestor,” he replied. The man squared his shoulders and lightning striking far behind him appeared to light up his body. Kara stared, taking in the sight of him. His dark hair was tightly braided so his face was clear to see, unlike the mess of her own. Blue eyes looked back at her. He stroked his beard and even over the whistling of the wind, Kara could hear the clatter of the beads threaded into it. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly going dry.

  Kara knew this man.

  Well, not really. She had never seen his face before and she knew she would recognise it if she had because he was so handsome. No, instead, something inside told her that they shared something together. Suddenly, those stories rang true.

  “You know Helgi?” she asked, stepping forward. She ignored the dampness as she stepped through puddles of dirty rain. Instead of a chill, her body tingled with a growing warmth.

  “I am named after him,” the man replied. “I am Helgi, the lord of the Haddingjar. I have come here to tell him that his grandson, my brother, Hrongvid, is dead.”

  A brief stab of agony crossed his face as he said those words. The anguish disappeared quickly and Helgi bowed low. Kara felt herself relax slightly. If he was prepared to take his eyes off her, then he had to trust her. She felt the urge to trust him back.

  “He was your father?” Kara asked. Level with the barrow now, she reached out to touch the wet grass. Closing her eyes, she imagining the man who laid below the earth, trying to picture what he would look like. Would he look like this Helgi that was standing before her now?

  “My grandfather,” Helgi replied, also reaching out to touch the grassy mound. “And, how do you know him?”

  What an interesting question. How did she know him? How could she explain that she was once married to him in a different life, that this Helgi in front of her now was also him?

  “You could say I knew him a long time ago,” Kara finally replied. She wasn’t sure he would believe her if she told him the truth.

  “You look too young to know my grandfather so long ago,” Helgi replied. A crash of thunder hit and Helgi looked skyward, apparently not fearful of the treacherous weather. “And, where did you come from? It’s a terrible night to be out, especially without shoes.”

  “I am a Valkyrie,” she admitted, standing taller again and staring him down, challenging him not to believe her.

  “Ah, just like my grandfather's wife, the
n.”

  She relaxed a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “I guess you could say that.”

  “Did you know her?” Helgi queried. “Helgi’s wife?”

  “No,” Kara replied. Although, even as she spoke the word, she felt a ripple go through her mind. Yes, she did know her. She was her. Kara could remember the woman’s face—her own face. “She died before I was born.”

  “Oh,” Helgi replied quietly, like he was thinking about what to talk about next.

  Kara splashed one foot through a puddle, also not sure of what to say now. Looking up, her gaze was caught by Helgi’s and she suddenly didn't need to speak. Her lips trembled and she felt hot tears welling in her eyes. Helgi smiled hesitantly, like he suddenly recognised her.

  “Who are you?” he whispered.

  “Kara,” she replied, not yet ready to give up her secret.

  “You’re her, aren’t you? You’re Sigrun.”

  Helgi reached his hands out to her, clasping her own and drawing her towards him.

  “I am all of them,” she whispered as her tears spilled over. “I am Kara, and Sigrun, and Svafa.”

  The wind whipped at her face and the rain fell in heavy drops, and her tears disappeared into the weather rather than betray her emotion to the man standing in front of her.

  “But you have always been Helgi.”

  REFERENCES

  Have you enjoyed this book and are curious to find out more about the Valkyries and the culture they came from? Below is the list of books I have used in my research into the Vikings.