Viking Vow

by S. T. Bende

  “But they have a dark mage,” I whispered.

  “And we have älva,” Freia reminded me. “Don’t forget, Saga—we are not without magic of our own.”

  Magic . . . the word triggered something in my brain. “Is it possible Bjorn’s dragon wasn’t gifted to them? Or that it was gifted, but not in the way you’re thinking?”

  Freia tilted her head. “How do you mean?”

  “Well . . .” I paused. “Erik is adamant that the gods wouldn’t have gifted Valkyris dragons, then turned around and handed more off to another tribe.”

  “They wouldn’t,” Erik said firmly.

  “Right. So, what if they’re not the ones who handed Bjorn a dragon? What if it was . . . well . . . us?”

  The five Vikings in the room jolted upright.

  “Us?” Ingrid balked. “Why would we hand over a dragon to a tribe of brutish, murdering—”

  “We didn’t hand over anything,” I corrected. “They took it from us.”

  “I think we’d notice if someone was missing from the Dragehus,” Axel huffed.

  “But someone is missing from the Dragehus,” I reminded him. “You checked out a dragon and returned on a boat.”

  Axel looked at me like I’d just fallen out of the stupid tree. “Bjorn killed my dragon. Unless you’re suggesting they resurrected it from the dead then . . .” His eyes widened, and his jaw hit his chest. “Oh, my gods, I gave them a dragon.”

  “I think you did,” I whispered.

  Erik’s gaze sharpened. “You think their dark mage is powerful enough to revive the dead?”

  “I can’t think of anywhere else they’d get a dragon.” I sighed. “Unless Birna helped them steal one of ours—a live one. But we’re sure the rest of the Dragehus residents are accounted for, right?”

  “Right.” Axel covered his face with one hand. “Gods, I can’t believe they . . .”

  Ingrid shook her head. “I’d never have thought it was even possible. I thought you were crazy for wanting to go back and retrieve your dragon. Bjorn’s warriors were already on to us, and it seemed like a suicide mission. I should have listened to you.”

  Axel lowered his hand to study Ingrid. “Are you admitting I was right about something?”

  “Don’t push it,” she warned.

  “It doesn’t matter. You were right, too.” Axel sighed. “It would have been a suicide mission—by the time we reached the dragon, they’d have taken us out. I just can’t believe . . . well, any of this.”

  Him and me both.

  “Saga?” Freia’s voice extracted me from my panic party. “What did you mean when you said Birna may have helped them steal a dragon? Do you believe Birna is helping Clan Bjorn?”

  Right. We still hadn’t caught Freia and Halvar up on the Birna situation. Not completely, at any rate.

  “Um . . .” I shot Erik a look. I didn’t want to rat him out for his prophet office break-in. But I had no idea how to explain the latest complication to his parents.

  “Birna’s sister approached us,” Erik offered. “Brigga informed us that Birna had left a while back. She’s always been a loner, so Brigga figured she was just taking time for herself. But after a while, she worried it was something more. Long story short, yes—we think she’s working with Clan Bjorn.”

  Axel chimed in. “I have two of my top trackers gathering intel on her. They were in the field for a week without any leads, but when they came back to regroup they learned that Bjorn had established a new remote settlement. Aikar and Vendyr are investigating it now.”

  Halvar’s brows knitted together. “How did we not notice her absence? Has their guardian not been looking after the girls since their parents’ deaths?”

  I sucked in a breath. This was the first I’d heard of Brigga and Birna losing their parents. I turned to Erik. “What happened to them?”

  “They were doing a shift over on Valkyris East, and they decided to take a few days off. They were camping somewhere beyond the mountain, and they accidentally wandered into a berserker settlement.”

  “O-kay . . .” From what little I knew of berserkers, they weren’t aggressive unless provoked.

  “The tribe was in a trance,” Erik continued, “for a sacrifice.”

  Oh.

  Erik squeezed my hand, then turned to his father. “You gave Raynor the responsibility of watching over the girls. You said it would give him a sense of loyalty to those who relied on him.”

  “And it should have,” Halvar asserted. “Your brother needs something to tether him to Valkyris. I thought looking after the girls would instill some semblance of connection.”

  “And maybe it would have, if he’d ever stuck around long enough to do the job.” Erik sighed. “But that’s not important. The point is, Birna’s gone. She’s likely working with Bjorn. And since Axel personally taught her to ride, if her new clan resurrected a dragon then she’s more than fit to handle it.”

  “Skit,” Axel swore loudly. “I really screwed this up.”

  “You did no such thing,” Freia interjected. “I asked you to see to Birna’s training. I saw promise in her, and you were—and are—our finest rider. You did exactly what I requested.”

  “And we couldn’t have gone back for the dead dragon,” Ingrid added. “We’d have died—and then, Odin forbid, they could have resurrected us!”

  The room went still, as if all of the air had been sucked out of it. Holy skit. Are zombies a thing here?

  After an excruciating silence, I finally opened my mouth. “Can they do that?”

  Freia and Halvar exchanged worried looks.

  “A week ago, I would have said absolutely not,” Freia said. “But if what we’ve heard about their mage and the dragon is true, then . . .”

  Oh. My. God.

  “We could be facing an army of the dead.” Erik swore loudly. “Good gods, there’s no end to what those monsters are capable of.”

  Chapter 15

  WE SPENT THE NEXT two weeks reworking our defensive strategy.

  If there was a chance, even a small one, that Clan Bjorn’s dark mage could awaken the dead, our army of living, human warriors was at a serious disadvantage. I’d seen enough movies to know we didn’t stand a chance against zombies, or vampires, or whatever undead ghouls existed in Viking times.

  Unfortunately, when I shared this nugget with Erik, he immediately—and incorrectly—deduced that I was an authority.

  An authority on Viking zombies.

  “So, you’ve encountered these creatures before?” Erik ducked to pass under an archway of flowers. We were supposed to be enjoying a post-dinner walk through the rose garden, and despite the light layer of snow covering the ground, the flowers had just begun to bloom, lending the light scent of springtime to the late evening air.

  The smell paired well with gut-seizing fear.

  “Encountered them? No, that’s not what I—”

  “At least you know what we’re dealing with.” Erik nodded. “This is good. You can oversee the training of the regiment tasked with destruction of the draugr.”

  So that was their working title.

  “I’ve never met a, uh, draw-drah . . .”

  “Draugr,” Erik corrected. “The reanimated undead. Only the buried can be afflicted, which is why most of us choose to be burned at sea.”

  Good to know the logic behind the Viking funeral.

  “Right. Well, I’ve never met the undead. We have a lot of stories about them in my time, though. I mean, a lot. Super popular right now—uh, then, er, in the future. Whenever.” I shook my head. “All I know is if they’re coming for us, we’re super screwed.”

  Erik tilted his head. Context, Saga.

  “It’s bad,” I amended.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because the undead are, well . . . you can’t kill something that isn’t alive.”

  “No,” Erik agreed. “But you can slow it down long enough to force Bjorn to admit defeat. Decapitation, loss of limb, fire moat .
. . between you and Ingrid, I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

  “Did you say fire moat?” I wrung my hands together. “And what’s Ingrid got to do with this? She’s training to be a shieldmaiden.”

  “And a fine one she’ll be. Which is why I’m making her your second.”

  “My second?” I squeaked.

  “Yes. You take point on strategy, and come up with a training program that will best prepare the draugr destroyers for battle. When it comes time to fight, I know Axel will want you in the air—and if Ingrid’s been with you all along, the troops can follow her into battle.”

  Oh, God. I’d opened my big mouth about zombies, and now Ingrid had to lead the charge. She already had enough to contend with, not only for Valkyris but for herself. After I’d told her what had happened with her parents up north, she’d spent a full two hours in one of the outbuildings fighting Axel. Afterward, he told me that he’d never seen fiercer swordsmanship in his life.

  “She’ll be fine against the undead.” Erik nudged my jaw closed. “Ingrid’s tough. And she’s looking for a chance to prove herself.”

  “I know, but—”

  “And speaking of tough, you and I need to have a talk.” Erik stopped in front of a bush that teemed with pale, pink buds. Mormor had flowers the exact same shade in her garden back home. Olivia and I had spent hours every winter helping her prune them. Moisture pricked at the backs of my eyes. I blinked it away, wishing it was that easy to banish the family-sized hole in my heart.

  “Saga?” Erik reached up to tuck an errant strand behind my ear. His fingertip sent goosebumps down my neck, and I shivered.

  “Huh?”

  “I said we need to talk,” he said softly. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.” My boot toed the snow. “It’s just . . . my grandmother had roses like these.”

  Erik cupped my cheek. “I’m sorry we still haven’t made any progress with the dagger. My mother tries to activate it weekly, but its magic remains dormant.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I’m happy here. I’m happy with you.”

  “I’m happy with you too.” Erik’s thumb rubbed lightly against my skin. “But if you’re to stay, I want it to be because you choose to. Not because my mother forced you to be here.”

  “I know that. And I love you for it.” I stood on tiptoe, and pressed my mouth to his. He ran his tongue along my bottom lip before raking it lightly between his teeth. When he pulled back, my breath came in short gasps.

  “And I love you.” Erik pressed his forehead to mine. “But we need to talk through our situation.”

  “Okay.”

  Erik slipped his fingers through mine. “Axel’s reported a new threat.”

  My grip around Erik’s hand tightened. “What is it?”

  “Bjorn’s planning another attack on Valkyris East. I think our time is up.”

  My veins turned to ice. “Oh, God.”

  “Watchmen caught news of the danger, and sent word straight away. It’s time to call in our new troops.”

  “But it’s only been a few weeks, and most of them are unskilled in combat. Our trainers haven’t had enough time to show them how to defend themselves, much less launch an offensive attack.”

  “I know.” Erik grimaced. “And I wish this wasn’t so urgent. But you and I both saw what Bjorn did to Valkyris East with their warning. If they really are planning an assault, it will be on a much larger scale. And we’re not equipped to stave off their current numbers on our own.”

  Skit. “They’ve grown?”

  “Substantially.”

  Hopefully via living troops only.

  I pulled my shoulders back. “What do I need to do?”

  “Axel and I will handpick a team for you and Ingrid to train. You won’t have much time to work with them, so do what you can before we’re dispatched to the mainland to fight. Axel will establish an airborne watch to try to determine a timeline for the attack. And I’ll send riders to summon the clans, and escort their war ships back to Valkyris.”

  “Will the colony be safe in the meantime?”

  “I’ll assign a skeleton crew of existing warriors to defend the mainland. It won’t be fully staffed for a few days, but it’s going to have to do.”

  “Guess it’s back to work then. I’ll go find Ingrid and tell her we have a new assignment.” I turned toward the castle, but Erik’s grip held me in place.

  “It’s almost dark. And I have to select your draugr destroyer team before you can train them.” He tugged on my hand, and I slipped into his arms. His heart pounded against my cheek.

  “You’re scared, too?”

  “Not scared. Just . . . anxious.” He stroked my hair. “War is never without its casualties, and I feel each loss much deeper than I ever admit.”

  “I know you do.” I rested my fingertips against his abs.

  “So, just for tonight, let’s clear our minds of what’s to come and simply enjoy what is.”

  For once, I was totally okay with that.

  Erik reached down, and lifted my chin with two fingers. He brought his lips to mine, and pressed lightly. I leaned in to the touch, breathing his familiar scent. He shifted his hand to the back of my head and laced his fingers through my braid. He pulled gently, angling my head back and exposing the skin along the side of my neck. A shiver of anticipation raced along my skin as he turned his attention just below my earlobe.

  “Mmm.” My knees buckled as I gave in to the waves of pleasure coursing from my neck due south. Good Lord, Erik was good at this. And if he was this good at just kissing me . . .

  Another shiver wracked my spine as Erik’s lips moved lower. His tongue now traced an excruciatingly delicious line just below my collarbone. I stood on tiptoe and angled my chest higher, hoping the whole just-for-tonight deal might extend to Erik’s sense of propriety, too. But the second I shifted, Erik pulled back, a rueful smile on his too-perfect face.

  “Saga,” he murmured. “Behave.”

  “You said we needed to clear our minds,” I reminded him.

  “By compromising your virtue? I don’t think so.”

  “Is it compromising if you have my consent?” I pressed myself against him.

  “Ja.” Erik spoke firmly. “It is.”

  “I think it’s a grey area,” I argued.

  Erik placed his hands on my shoulders and took a step back. “You’re trouble.”

  “One of us has to be.” I sighed. “So, if you didn’t mean that, how did you intend to clear our minds tonight? Walk around the lake? Visit the baby sheep in the domestic barn?” Actually, the baby sheep were pretty darned cute.

  “I was thinking something a little more engaging.” Erik laced his fingers through mine and walked slowly back toward the castle. “How about we go to my room—”

  “I like where this is headed.”

  “For a little game—”

  “Still liking it.”

  “Of hnefatafl.”

  The grin slipped off my face. “You have got to be kidding me. It’s our last night of peace and you want to play Viking chess?”

  “I was under the impression you wanted to beat me.” Erik shrugged. “And this may be our last chance to play for a while.”

  “I’ve beaten you before,” I protested.

  “Barely. And only a handful of times. It’s clear that despite months of training, you’re still a vastly inferior hnefatafl player.”

  Heat flooded my cheeks. “I am not vastly inferior. In fact, considering the amount of time you’ve had to practice versus the mere months I’ve been playing it, I’d say I’m more than your equal.”

  Erik arched his brow. “Then you’ll have no difficulty beating me tonight.”

  I shook my head. “I know you’re trying to distract me from what we’d both rather be doing, but fine. It’s on. I’m going to kick your sorry butt at hnefatafl. And then I’m going to kick it again.”

  One corner of Erik’s mouth quirked up. “Unfounded opt
imism is one of your most endearing traits.”

  I swatted his arm with a laugh. “Now I’m really going to beat you.”

  “You keep telling yourself that.” Erik’s smile widened as he led us back to the castle. For the next few hours, I did everything in my power to make good on my promise to defeat him at hnefatafl. I ultimately failed, but at least the games kept my mind off the next day’s dread-inducing task.

  In the morning, I was supposed to train a unit of Vikings to kill the undead. And I had no idea how I was going to do it.

  Chapter 16

  INGRID AND I SPENT the next week training our team. Erik had tasked a dozen warriors with destroying Clan Bjorn’s undead army. Each member was chosen for their physical and mental strength, since confronting a battalion of resurrected corpses would be unnerving at best. We didn’t want anyone to lose their mind, so our training consisted not only of offensive and defensive maneuvers, but also mental workarounds designed to avoid insanity induction. We instructed our draugr destroyers to think of their opponents as they would any other threat—human in form, no matter what they might actually look like. We even brought in Helene and her healing teacher to go over energetic protections. I didn’t put a whole lot of faith in the whole grounding/aura-cleansing system of defense, but Ingrid figured it couldn’t hurt . . . and Helene was eager to help in any way she could.

  Toward the end of the week, we’d commenced strategizing alternate methods of defense. Erik had mentioned a fire moat, and in addition to outfitting our team with the fire-steels and collapsible shovels we’d commissioned from Valkyris’ craftsmen, we brainstormed additional unconventional options.

  “Do we have access to any älva-powered weapons?” a woman named Derga asked.

  “Erik said the island was at our disposal, but he didn’t specifically mention any älva-powered weapons.” I tilted my head. “Why?”

  “I heard the keepers and the makers were working together on an experimental series,” Derga said. “Things that rain fire, or can freeze an entire crop. Elemental-based weaponry.”

  Seriously? “I haven’t heard anything about that,” I said. “But if it’s a thing, it’d definitely help us out. I’ll look into it. Anybody else have any ideas?”