The Viking's Consort (Clan Hakon Series Book 3)

by Quinn Loftis

  “I’m convinced when Freya helps me fix my hair, she has an ulterior motive. She claims she’s simply trying to keep it out of my face, so I won’t be distracted in the heat of battle. But I think she’s actually trying to scalp me.”

  ~Diary of Allete Auvray

  “Are all Englishwomen this tender headed?” Freya asked as she stood behind me with strands of my hair laced in her fingers, plaiting the sides. While I could agree the style did keep my hair away from my face while battling an opponent, I would also like it noted that if I kept doing my hair this tightly, then I wouldn’t have to worry about battling much longer, as my eyes were likely to pop out of my head.

  “Are all shieldmaidens as determined as you are to rip out an Englishwoman’s hair?” I growled.

  “Depends on the Englishwoman,” Babs answered from her perch on a stump that doubled as a chair inside the shieldmaidens’ community hut. “Sometimes, we simply take off the whole head.”

  “I’m not trying to rip your hair out, you big baby,” Freya grumbled. “If you wouldn’t insist on taking it down overnight, we wouldn’t have to do this every stinking morning.”

  She did have a point, but I didn’t tell her that. I didn’t really want to get into why I took it down every night…because Torben told me my hair was as glorious as the morning rays of the sun streaming through the trees. I almost melted every time. Nah, best keep that to myself around the shieldmaidens.

  “You’ve really come along in just a under a fortnight,” Astrid said, graciously changing the subject.

  “I agree,” Lakin added. “I expected you to be a softy, but you’ve got some leather in you. That’s good.”

  “A softy?” I asked, shooting the woman a glare.

  “She has a point,” Maarit said. “You kind of look like a pissed-off kitten when you’re mad.”

  “Kittens have some sharp-as-hell claws,” I pointed out. There was a murmur of agreement.

  When Frey finally stepped back and inspected her handy work, I heaved a sigh of relief. The torture was over for now. Unfortunately, the pain was about to move from my hair…to every muscle in my body.

  “All right, men, enough sitting around. Let’s go train,” Babs barked.

  “You do realize we’re women, right?” I asked.

  Babs grinned while the rest of the ladies grumbled. “Of course I know we’re women. Only women can be shieldmaidens. And to have that title, you have to earn it. So, until you earn the right to be a shieldmaiden, you are a man.”

  “Excellent,” I said. “So, I if I get the sudden urge to scratch myself in unsightly places, I should just go with it?”

  Rhetta, the quietest of the she-warriors, suddenly chuckled. “Please do. And do it in front of Jarl Torben.” All the ladies began to laugh as we followed Freya out of the hut and toward the sparring area. Halfway there, we were intercepted by a sprinting Brant.

  “I apologize for interrupting, Freya, but Torben wants to have a quick meeting,” he said, pointing toward the gathering tent located in the center of the village.

  “This better be good,” Freya said as she motioned us to follow. Brant led us into the tent. Torben pushed through the crows of shieldmaidens until he stood in front of me. He took my hand and leaned down, pressing a kiss to my forehead. Then tugged me after him to the front of the gathering.

  “When you are in training,” he murmured, “you are under Freya’s command because you are her charge as a shieldmaiden. But when you are outside of training, you are my queen and the queen of this clan. You stand by my side.”

  I nodded.

  “Sometimes,” he continued, “I will stand at the front, to lead, like this…” He motioned to the clan before us. “And the clan needs to see you next to me, a beacon of light, a symbol of strength and support. Other times, we shall walk in the midst of the clan because to lead, we must serve.”

  “You have me by your side now, Viking, so what is your next move?” I squeezed his hand.

  “Hopefully, to give our people a sense of direction and hope,” he said, then lifted his eyes to the clan. “We’ve spent the past fortnight rebuilding what was lost, not just our homes, but also our warriors as well. I want to tell you how much I appreciate all of you doing your part. It’s not easy to go through all we’ve faced and come out stronger on the other side.” Pausing, he cast his gaze across the clan. I saw him making eye contact with them, silently assuring he would do whatever it took to make our clan stronger. “But there are more trials to come, I’m afraid. Those who’ve sacked our clan cannot be allowed to go unpunished. If we turn a blind eye, other clans, other people across the north, will likewise suffer Cathal’s barbarism. I see a future of peace, of clans united, of Northmen and women striving together for the common good. I have no doubt that vision will come to fruition.”

  “When are we going to hunt down the monster who did this?” Rainah shouted.

  I understood the healer’s anger. Cathal had put her child in danger, and her thirst for vengeance was justified.

  “I am eager, too, Rainah, to defeat Cathal,” Torben assured the woman, “but we must have a plan in place before we attack. We cannot simply chase after King Cathal out of our wrath. That way is folly, and it will end in the needless throwing away of our kinsmen’s lives.

  “And other things must happen before we pursue our quarry. First, we need allies. We must seek out those who can assist us with this war. Cathal’s army is mighty, and we are still recovering from his attack. I do not doubt the ferocity of any man or woman here. And though I wouldn’t trade one of you for a score of Cathal’s men, we would still be foolish to attack him without aid.

  “And Cathal is not our only worry. Another foe rises to meet us, potentially more dangerous. Calder, who you all know was Magnus’s brother, is also a threat. He has a dark witch in his employ, and he has taken the sister of your queen captive.” He gazed down at me. His eyes were tender, and they held so much love. “I wouldn’t leave any of our clan to such a fate. Nor will I leave the sister of the woman I love in captivity.”

  “My father will help,” I said loudly to Torben, but simultaneously broadcasting my voice to the gathered clan. The proclamation was met with muttering and shifting from the clan members. I understood their skepticism. The English had long been the enemy of the Norsemen. The Vikings asking for the help of King Albric would be akin to a cobra asking the aid of a mongoose.

  Torben held up his hands. “I have met King Albric, secretly served in his palace guard. We made a pact as I left his palace. He trusted me to save his daughter. Obviously, I achieved that goal and much more. I’ve peered into the man’s eyes, and I’ve judged him according to the standards of honor among warriors and felt him judge me in return. I believe he understands all Northmen are not savages. I am confident he will come to our aid. An ambassador will soon travel to England to entreat with the king.”

  “Your pardon, Jarl,” Rush interrupted, “but even with Albric’s men, I fear our strength may still be lacking.”

  Torben nodded in agreement, then looked at me. “Rush has a good understanding of your father’s forces since he worked with them when we infiltrated your home.”

  Torben answers Rush. “We will simply do what we can. As I said before, I wouldn’t trade—”

  “Perhaps I can offer you a solution.” A woman’s voice rose from the rear of the clan. It was a voice weakened by age, yet it bespoke of a strength that could only come from extensive experience.

  “Step forward and show yourself,” Torben said.

  The clan began to part for the woman.

  “Myra?” I asked. I released Torben’s hand, then stepped toward the witch who had helped me several times when Torben and his men had been at my father’s castle.

  “Marriage suits you, Allete,” Myra said with a fond smile.

  “Thank you,” I said, even as my brow drew down. “How are you here?”

  “I have my ways,” she said. Then she looked at Torben. “I need to sp
eak with you and your queen, privately.”

  Torben stared silently at her, an internal debate evident on his face, probably whether or not he wanted to speak freely in front of the clan. But then he nodded. “All right. Allete will take you to our home. I will follow in a few minutes. First, I need to deal with a matter.” Then, he addressed the rest of the clan. “As our plans come together, I will keep you all informed of my decisions. For now, continue training and rebuilding our home.”

  I stood on my tiptoes. Pressed a kiss to his lips. “You’re sending Brant, aren’t you?” I asked.

  “Yes. He needs something to do. He’s getting more restless. I understand his need to go after his woman, but we have to be smart about it. I don’t want to risk failing you.”

  “We will rescue her together, and we will not fail,” I told him with complete conviction.

  “Oh yeah? Because you will it?” he asked with a crooked smile.

  “Exactly.”

  With one last kiss, I walked over to Myra and nodded for her to follow me.

  “I get the feeling you enjoy the shock value of just popping up in random places,” I said.

  She chuckled. “Maybe just a little.”

  “The longer I live, the more I realize I cannot depend upon anyone else to get things done. There isn’t another soul on the earth I’ve come across with the power, ambition, or intelligence to match my own. Fools, all of them. One day, they will bow at my feet.”

  ~Gisele

  Gisele strode directly through Clan Thornag’s village without so much as a sideways glance toward the Northmen and women who were watching her. The witch had forced herself to walk the village rather than taking her horse. She’d hoped to use the extra time to calm down and gather her thoughts. It hadn’t worked.

  When she reached the largest of the huts, she didn’t slow down. Knocking never entered her mind. Instead, she grabbed the oaken door and wrenched it open, causing the entire to building to shudder as the door bounced against the wall.

  There were curses and a squeal from under a tangle of furs and woolen blankets on the bed. “I said I was not to be disturbed.” A gravelly voice, slightly muffed, came from beneath the blankets.

  “You promised me a book.” The witch’s voice was like a whip snapping across the room.

  Calder’s bearded head appeared out of the blankets. A mass of disheveled blonde locks, attached to the head of what appeared to be a very confused young woman, soon followed.

  “I’m busy, witch,” Calder growled.

  “You’re an oathbreaker. Where’s my book?”

  “Can this conversation wait an hour?” Fuming, the Viking pulled the covers up higher on his companion as if Gisele cared how much skin the little vixen showed.

  “No, though I seriously doubt it would take that long.” Gisele glared at the woman, “Get out, you little hunting trophy,” she commanded. “Unless you want to be disfigured for the rest of your worthless life. I imagine your jarl won’t be so eager to have you in his bed if you’re covered in lesions.”

  The woman’s wide eyes bounced from Gisele to Calder, clearly hoping for a sign as to whether she should stay put or follow the stranger’s advice.

  “Gisele, you overstep your bounds.”

  “Wrong again, Calder. You have obviously forgotten how much power I wield. I am here to remind you.”

  Apparently, this made up the young blonde’s mind. If this mysterious woman was willing to threaten her jarl so openly, then she was clearly no one to anger. The girl jumped out of the bed, then hastily snatched up her clothes, bursting through the door without even pausing to don her garments.

  “I will not forget your actions here today,” Calder warned.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass about what you will or won’t forget. I want the tome you promised me. You said you could get me access into Magnus’s clan.”

  “When we get Hilda back, we can torture the information out of her,” he said.

  “Oh, and here I thought you were just a bumbling Northman. I had no idea you’d been dabbling in necromancy behind my back.” Gisele crossed her arms, glaring down at the warlord.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Calder threw off the blankets and furs. He stood, stamping hard on the ground as he did so. He spread his stance, crossed his own arms, and faced off across from the witch, apparently unconcerned by his lack of clothing. Gisele could have sworn he thrust his hips forward a little, and she almost smirked. She’d seen bigger members on some of the mountain bunnies she experimented on.

  “Hilda is dead, Magnus has taken the eldest princess captive, and I have the younger princess,” she explained.

  “Start at the beginning,” Calder growled. He uncrossed his arms, then hurriedly began jerking on his clothes.

  “After the three females disappeared, I went and found them. No help from you, by the way. Despite the fact Magnus and his men told you they would hunt them down, I didn’t trust him. Obviously, I was right not to,” she gloated.

  “He gave me his word, an oath he wouldn’t betray me,” Calder pointed out.

  “Apparently, none of you Vikings can keep an oath.”

  “Maybe not, but I thought my brother, my blood, would be the exception.”

  “Fool,” she hissed.

  “Watch who you’re calling a fool, Gisele. Even you have to sleep sometime,” he warned.

  “And you have no idea where I sleep, and you would never make it past my magical wards even if you could find it. So, save your idle threats.” Gisele thought about ending the fool then and there, but that wouldn’t bring her any closer to her ultimate goal. She would have to tolerate the imbecile, if only for a little longer. “I came upon the women first, but your brother showed up shortly after. Magnus grabbed the eldest princess from behind and carted her off. I was dealing with the oracle at the time or I would have stopped him. The old woman went down much easier than expected, really. A pity. I was hoping she, at least, would pose a formidable challenge. Once the oracle was dead, I still had the younger princess to deal with. I knocked her unconscious. I was faced with the decision to pursue Magnus or stay with the girl. Since I didn’t want to risk losing my consolation prize, your brother got away.”

  “That son of a bitch,” Calder yelled, bringing a meaty fist down on his dining room table. “I’ll kill him.” He began to pace the inside of the hut, his face growing redder and redder as he stomped about. Giselle only watched him, her face a mask of impassivity. “He dares to stab me in the back?” Calder roared as he overturned the table and kicked a chair.

  “Are you really surprised? And is the hissy fit necessary?” Gisele’s shoulders slumped, and she breathed a heavy sigh as she glared at Calder. “That’s unimportant. What is important, however, is I still don’t have my book.”

  “How did the oracle die?” he asked, ignoring her questions.

  “Were you not listening? I was dealing with her when Magnus showed up. For those poor souls like you who aren’t lucky enough to be blessed with magical talent, ‘dealing with’ means I killed her.”

  “Wasn’t that a bit counterproductive to procuring the book you want?”

  “In hindsight, yes. But Hilda and I have been enemies for a long time. The opportunity to kill her was just too tempting.”

  “Witches aren’t known for their patience,” he said. “And your impulse control seems to be nonexistent.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Do you have a death wish, or are you touched in the head?”

  “What do you plan to do with the younger princess?”

  “I guess that all depends on you.”

  Calder scratched his beard, side-eyeing her. “What do you mean?”

  “I assume you’ll be wanting to scurry on over to Clan Hakon to take revenge on Magnus. I’m coming along. When we get there, we’ll see what happens. Maybe Magnus kills you. In that case, I’ll use the girl as a bargaining chip.”

  “He won’t,” Calder bellowed.

  Gisele sh
rugged. “Hardly makes any difference to me. If you’re victorious, I still get the book. Then I don’t care what happens to either princess.

  The witch watched as a hungry look came into Calder’s eyes, one she was all too familiar with. “You could ensure my victory,” he said.

  “Or I could ensure your brother is victorious.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t you dare deign to tell me what I would or would not do, Calder. I have been far too lenient with you. For an entire year, I’ve suffered your foolishness. A year of empty promises. And have you gotten me close to Magnus so I could procure the book? No!” Gisele squeezed her hands into fists, the temperature in the room dropping several degrees. She could tell Calder noticed.

  “Fate brought him to us,” Calder said weakly.

  “And your ineptitude allowed him to escape,” she snarled. “Again and again, you fail me.”

  “If you’re so powerful, then why do you need my help in retrieving this precious book?”

  “Because power has a limit, and I know my own. Unlike you, I am not a fool.”

  Calder stared for several minutes before swallowing thickly. “I want the young oracle princess. That is my price to go to war because that is what I will be doing if I chase after my brother.”

  Gisele took two steps until she was nose to nose with the man. To his credit, he didn’t flinch. “You have no price. You make no demands. You will go where I say and do what I say, or I will rip out your entrails and feed them to the wolves.”

  Calder’s face contorted, changing from red to purple. “Don’t you threaten—”

  “Silence,” the witch screamed. The entire cottage shook. Earthen pots exploded. The fire in the hearth suddenly flared up.

  “This is your last warning, Calder. There is no longer an agreement between us. Your sloth and ineptitude have shown me how unworthy you are as my partner. You will take your warriors, and you will attack Clan Hakon. If you live through that, and if I don’t kill you myself, then you can take whatever spoils you want. All I want is the book. After that, you’d best pray to Odin our paths don’t cross again.”