The Queen of the Draugr: Stories of the Nine Worlds (Thief of Midgard - a dark fantasy action adventure Book 2)

by Alaric Longward

  The woman gave a dry laugh. “Traitor? Like your father was? Who failed us?”

  “Explain yourself,” Baduhanna said emotionlessly. “How did the Danegells begin the war?”

  Hilan pointed a finger to the city. “They didn’t. But Danegells, or these creatures, were supposed to keep us safe. They were supposed to guard the land. Isn’t that the lot of a king? They were supposed to keep Dagnar’s Gates closed from evil, and then the city burned as enemies ransacked it, raping, killing, murdering at will. They failed. They failed utterly. Not only have they lied to us through the long years, but also they failed, and their failure is of such magnitude they should not rule. Law or not.” She pointed a gauntleted finger at me. “And now, one, a brat grown in the streets, would dare tell us he fought well for us? Well, let him fight on. Let him fight, until the shame is washed off that armor we once were so proud of.” She paused. “But, the land has a royal, and it is not him. Let him defend a citadel for us in the south. Let him be a general, but a king? No.”

  I looked at Baduhanna. Citadel in the south? She must have spoken with her already.

  There was a tumultuous agreement from the nobles on her side. They raised their swords and maces in support.

  “Silence,” Baduhanna said, the voice magically enhanced. It echoed over the city, startling flocks of black and white birds into flight.

  Hilan sat on the horse and would not be silent. “My husband is probably gone. Thanks to Morag, as well as Mir Blacktower, it is so. Thanks to you.” She took a deep breath. “But, indeed, I agree Crec is dead.”

  We stood and stared at the woman. She was trembling now, as if gathering bravery. And so she was. She spotted old Illastria near the chair of Baduhanna. “You, the Keeper of the Past.”

  Illastria looked shocked to be addressed. She got up on her two old legs. She was half mad, made so by the terror of the dead she had endured for twenty years, but she had been doing better as soon as Balan had died, Taram was slain, and Lith vanquished, and with Baduhanna’s care, she was almost lucid. Less afraid. Somewhat bravely, she stood next to Baduhanna. “My lady?” she asked.

  “In the past, in other lands,” Hilan asked forcefully, “when the King had died, who was the ruler?”

  Illastria frowned. “The Queen?”

  “And as Morag was an impostor, and Crec crowned the King, who should rule?” she asked.

  Baduhanna was shaking her head. “This—”

  “The Queen, if there is one,” Illastria said softly.

  “And I am the Queen,” Hilan said almost gently. “I am the Queen.”

  “No!” I yelled, and silenced the chattering of thousands of noble voices, some surprised, many supportive. “Your husband was dead when he was crowned!”

  “He was,” Baduhanna said.

  “How do you know this?” Hilan asked.” How indeed! Fine! Elevate the two new Houses, and let them decide! Either way, we shall not bow down to a liar and a murderer. Let Maskan of No House fight for our cause, since he claims to love us so.”

  Men were raising weapons. The dverger let their axes drop to their palms, and they took a step forward. Gath Bollion, a young head of his House, had mounted and led his horse between two dverger, screaming at me, “Get down, impostor! Get down from the dais, and let her take your place!”

  Baduhanna moved.

  In her hand, there grew a round, glowing shield. A whip of molten gold coiled down to hiss on the dais. Her garments changed to the war-glory of the goddess. A long chain skirt and a gleaming mail vest appeared, all dverg made. A band of gold burned around her forehead, the leather boots of dark skin glistened. Her eyes glowed, and rage smote from her eyes. Men took steps back. Thrum stepped aside, looking at his weapon as if he had known this would happen. Perhaps he did.

  The goddess jumped.

  The whip went up, and snapped down, and the horse of Gath lost its head. The beast and the man fell in a heap. The goddess stood on the smoking horse corpse, laughing like a cursed spirit of the Muspelheim’s deepest fogs, eyes alight, glowing with great, terrible powers. She was not immortal, a jotun’s blade could hurt her, hundreds of men might drag her down, but few would dare try that day.

  One did.

  Gath drew a sword, foolishly, half trapped beneath the horse.

  Baduhanna snapped the whip at him.

  The sword fell in pieces, the whip slapped around Gath. The man shrieked like the damned, the voice echoing across the land. The weapon burned him horribly. She coiled it around his throat, and pulled, the metal links in his helmet and armor orange hot and melting. Gath gasped, his head rolled off, skull blackening inside the helmet, and the body collapsed in a shivering heap of death.

  Hilan backed off, her horse whinnying nervously.

  Baduhanna stood there, madness burning in her. Slowly, she forced herself to calm, and pointed a finger at the multitudes. “The laws were broken the day Morag left me beneath the Temple. He escaped his oaths, spat on his honor, left me there. I, the ally of your ancestors, the Aesir general of humans, was foully betrayed, and after, so were the ancestors of your families, especially Danegells and Tenginells, whose lives they took. This is all true.”

  I squirmed, fighting the compulsion to refute her.

  She pointed the whip to me. “Yet Morag, no matter what he did, ruled well. He kept Red Midgard and its people alive. He ruled for a long while, changing his face as Danegells died supposedly of old age. Red Midgard is a powerful nation, while its nobles are squabbling pigs. I know you. I said I knew your ancestors. Even yours, Hilan Helstrom. They were farmers.”

  “I—” she began, but went quiet as the whip turned her way in Baduhanna’s hand, and two dverger stepped further from the goddess, wary of the thing.

  “You would reject Maskan? I say no. Yes, the Houses shall decide who will rule, but not now. They shall decide after the war. You will treat Maskan as your warlord, your general in the horror that will follow. And you, Hilan, have a chance to prove your mettle. It is a war that will not end tomorrow, next year, or decade after. Balic has built his empire in the south, and will not rest before you are all dead. He is draugr, and will not negotiate, and if he does, he will lie. Your husband,” she addressed Hilan, “is dead. He walks, but is dead. Perhaps you will take his place, but for now, I rule over you. We shall make new laws when there is peace. For this coming war, this is the law: disobey me, the Aesir who is above the kings and queens, and I’ll send you to Hel. I’ll destroy you, your family, your past and your present. Go, and think about it. Then send your lords here, in the morning, so we shall prepare for war. Ban Valtair’s men are already holding Hillhold. Your men shall ride with me, while some will guard what we leave behind.”

  “Lady,” Hilan said softly. “Hillhold has usually been held by my garrisons. Lord Ban is from Fiirant. From here.”

  “Now it is held by Ban’s, who is an ally. He was kind enough to send his horses there days ago. As I said, we have many places to defend,” Baduhanna said. “You will have yours.”

  Many places to defend. Not Dagnar, though, I thought. I looked at the Lord Ban, who had apparently decided to fight for Red Midgard, rather than his own interests. That Hillhold was in Alantia’s side of Grimwing Pass, in the ancestral lands of the Helstroms and those who hated me, was a message from the Aesir. She needed allies, but she didn’t trust them. Baduhanna had been busy.

  Hilan, her thoughts on the promises of the Aesir, looked startled and jumped down from her horse, and went to one knee.

  Baduhanna let the spell-whip go, turned and walked away, and looked a young woman again. She passed me, and looked up at me, and whispered. “We need them. Do not disobey me either.”

  I opened my mouth to question her, but she stalked away for the Tower. Balissa pulled me around, and Thrum’s dverger marched forward. The nobles stood there, some bowed, others scowled and Hilan rode away, her eyes on the mess that had been Gath.

  Baduhanna had already spoken with Hilan.

  Gath w
as dead, perhaps a reminder to the nobles what the penalty of lying was, but Baduhanna had made a deal with Hilan already. Like he had with Ban. I was sure of it. What the deal was, I was unsure. Perhaps Hilan had tried to renegade from it? Had tried to get more? So, Gath died. Baduhanna had dealt with them, already.

  Would she deny it?

  “You’ll never be their king,” Balissa whispered. “They fear Baduhanna now, but not you. The Houses will decide on the crown after the war, and they won’t pick you. Our time here is over, if we don’t act. But, perhaps, we should just leave?”

  I felt my chin tighten. “They are still my people,” I growled. “Even the nobles,” I added and turned to follow Baduhanna inside the Tower, where dverger were repairing the shattered doors. The thousand troops took positions on the wall surrounding the place.

  “What will you do,” Balissa asked, as she stalked after me. “What can you do?”

  “I’m might not be made the King,” I said, “but I’m still a thief. I’ll rob the throne, if I must.” I turned to her. “Keep an eye on Hilan. Tell me where she is, and what she is doing. And find me in the Harbor in some hours’ time.”

  She squinted and frowned, and nodded.

  I’d be a jotun, as well as a man. And jotuns were no playthings to men of the Aesir.

  CHAPTER 4

  The Rose Throne stood at the end of the great, shaded, circular room, and the Pearl Terrace, so called because of the wonderful view over the snow-tipped mountains of the Blight and the glittering waters of the Arrow Straits gave the impression of millions of the iridescent orbs. The winter was near now, snows would heap over the mountains and sprinkle the valleys white, and people would go hungry. Some of the grain stores had been burned in Dagnar, and many nobles would bargain hard to make a fortune trading what surplus their lands had made.

  I walked to where there was a huge table heaped with maps. By the table stood the sole surviving officer of the Hawk’s Talon Marines, the burly captain named Muntos. He had been there the day before, and now, again as time grew short. Thrum and some other dverger were standing to the side. Baduhanna, her golden hair spilling onto the table’s surface, was pointing at a map with her finger.

  “How many?” she asked. “Run them all by me one more time.”

  “How many what?” I asked her darkly.

  She lifted her bright eyes at me with a warning. “I was talking to the Captain.”

  The captain stood up straight, embarrassed. He was a ruggedly handsome man in practical leather armor, who was not unaffected by the Aesir’s beauty, by the look he gave her as he stepped closer. He planted a finger on the map. “Three Hammer Legions. They swerved there after the defeat here. Well, four, really. One is the remains of Bull Legion of Palan. Another is from Millis Illar, the Griffin with the Hammer, and they lost some men here as well. One is Ontareese, with white and red axe flag, and the last one is from Aten, and Aten-Sur Atenguard commands them all.” He hesitated. “There are kings and queens of those lands with them. Some say they command strange powers. They had to land on the eastern coast, but they are making a swift way to west and for Hillhold. They burn Alantia and hope to cut off the Iron Way. Pretty much the same as the jotun reported. The White … Sister,” he stammered as his eyes sought out Balissa in the shadows, but she wasn’t there. The brothers had been Danegell guards ever since Hel’s War, and the city was having hard time adjusting to the fact they had not been humans, or even brothers in any case. The man went on. “That’s all my men could see. I’ve sent another ship to scout, and hired others, under neutral Trade House flags, to fool the enemy.”

  “They have over three Hammer Legions marching for Dagnar from the east?” Baduhanna asked thinly. “And they are making good time?”

  The man straightened his back. “They’ll be at the Grimwing Pass in three days, tops,” he confirmed. “If they take all the cities and towns, and noble forts, they will be here in few more, but I doubt they are that stupid. I don’t understand why they didn’t disgorged in Fiirant to start with. They would have had us besieged.”

  “They panicked,” I said. “After we struck them down here in Dagnar, they couldn’t risk landing nearby. They had no idea what was waiting for them.”

  “Maskan is wrong,” Baduhanna said darkly. “After they found out I had been released, they wanted to block the way to north. They want to stop me from challenging Crec Helstrom and Mir Blacktower. They will want to make sure we cannot march after Hawk’s Talon, and the Gray Brothers. Since they have twenty Hammer Legions in the Verdant Lands, one for each kingdom, they probably have more to throw at us.”

  “They have at least seven legions in Aten, and the fleets of their best seafaring nations–Aten, Betus Coin, Katas Kas Opan,” the Captain said.

  “Ten, said the Captain I captured,” I said, as if it mattered. Ten or seven, we were in trouble. “There’s a guard of undead,” I added. “Their Gold Guard. Some five hundred, perhaps? Malingborg’s guard is corrupted.”

  She stared at me. “You forgot to mention this to me?”

  I scowled at her tone. I was in no mood to be chastised by a liar. “Do you tell me everything and of everyone you speak with?” It was a clear as rain hint I knew she had spoken with Hilan and agreed to oust me. She said nothing, but gave me a warning look. In the end, I waved my hand towards the city. “The officer we hung mentioned it.”

  We looked at each other with hostility.

  The Captain grunted and began to speak, but Baduhanna raised her hand and interrupted him, tearing her bright eyes off mine. “When will Mir, Crec, and our legions have passed the passes in the north to reach Heart Hold?”

  “Balissa told you this already,” I said softly.

  “I verify all information I get,” she answered.

  “They are passing them soon,” the Captain said with a worried glance at me. “In a week, they’ll be there.”

  “Our forces in the city?” Baduhanna asked. “Do you have the count?”

  Thrum stepped forward, his eyes on mine. Satisfied he knew whom to obey, I nodded, and he spoke. “We have nine thousand cavalry in the city. The nobles’ army. A fairly good fighting force. Know their business, apparently. Some three thousand will meet you in Dansar’s Grave, before you enter the Grimwing Pass, and Ban’s thousand already rode for Hillhold at full speed. And there are nearly three thousand dverg. We can defeat the Legions in Alantia in battle, if we must break through them. Those three, that is. Make it more, and give them the chance to decide when and where they fight, we shall lose.”

  “Any spies to the south?” I asked.

  “You weren’t here yesterday,” Baduhanna said bitterly. “Nor in my bed.”

  “It’s my father’s bed,” I said simply.

  Baduhanna’s hand rapped the table so hard it rocked, and her face was flushed with anger.

  Muntos spoke swiftly. “As I said, we try. We don’t have spies, only my ships. My ships are few.”

  She spoke harshly. “How many ships do you have?” Baduhanna asked him, the man hesitated, and shrugged. “Speak!” the Aesir insisted.

  “How many? None. Well, I have four,” the officer said, as steadily as he could. “Only four that can be taken out. And mercenary scout ships, which won’t fight, but only pass along information.”

  Baduhanna nodded. “We must move the army to Dansar’s Grave tomorrow after noon,” she said simply. “And then, the following day, through the pass, and fight there before Hillhold, if we must. God’s bless Lord Ban for helping our cause without asking for a kingdom.”

  “And if Hilan keeps on insisting to be the Queen?” I asked coldly. She had made a deal; I was sure of it. “Will she be crowned before we ride?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Baduhanna said tiredly. “But she won’t. We ride tomorrow.”

  “She won’t?” I asked pettily.

  Baduhanna didn’t answer, and the silence was oppressive.

  Baduhanna had made a deal with her. She had.

  Th
e Captain shrugged and looked at the goddess. “Lady?” he asked.

  “Yes?” she said absentmindedly.

  “I have family in the city,” he stated. “What’s to become of them?”

  “Can they carry arms?” the goddess asked. “Are they strong and hale?”

  “My son—”

  Baduhanna shrugged. “There will be someone in charge of the city, Captain. I will leave the details to them. And I thank you for your service to the Aesir and the Vanir.”

  “I thought I was serving Red Midgard,” Muntos said subdued and bowed before he could lock his eyes with Baduhanna. He turned, gave me a thoughtful look, and stalked out.

  Baduhanna gave me a long look as well, and seemingly forgave me. She smiled. “I have one more meeting, love. I shall see you soon.”

  “Who will be in charge of the city?” I asked her tersely.

  “Tell Thrum here to obey me,” she answered and ignored my question. “He is your vassal, but I need them in the north. As discussed.”

  Thrum said nothing, but met my gaze cautiously.

  And yet, I could hardly refuse her then. I might later, when I found Thrum alone. “Obey Baduhanna, when I am not there.”

  He bowed to me, then to Baduhanna. “This service doesn’t pay enough,” he rumbled, and I wondered what payment they were talking about. I also wondered if there would be a bill waiting for me when we were done with the war.

  I shrugged to her. “So,” I said. “The discussions with the nobles.”

  “Went as well as expected,” she answered.

  “And I will stay to fight for them, defending a fortress,” I said. “Or a citadel, as Hilan put it.”

  “Yes, as I asked you to,” Baduhanna said, leaning on the table.

  “And like Hilan stated,” I said, biting back the accusatory note in my voice. “A coincidence, if I ever heard one.”