What's Up, Buttercup? (Vexatious Valkyries Book 1)

by Jane Cousins

  “Of course. It was beyond fortuitous to discover they had a deathly allergy to hellfire proof weapons. Even simpler to add a little spell to make those chains all but unbreakable by magical means. But unfortunately, their skin secretes some type of sap that eats through the chains at a remarkable rate, even as they are being poisoned. It was nothing but pure luck to discover that if they eat Gellagh, it keeps them stable, if not at the peak of fitness. Not pretty, are they?”

  “So that’s why you are so desperate for these trade talks to be successful. You need the piracha from the Bellan Swarm to keep replacing the hellfire proof chains, and the Pake’s Gellagh fish, to keep your prisoners alive. But just how do the Idelski fit into your scheme?”

  “I could force my little tree roots to blanket the Realm with a mind numbing spell. Ensuring no one would question too closely certain things, but when it comes to the downfall of many throughout history, it is usually an accountant that finds the evidence. I couldn’t have the true amounts of piracha and Gellagh we needed sitting on our books. Some egghead with a calculator would have eventually gotten suspicion and broken free of the geas. So I engaged the Idelski to act as go-between. Paying for large quantities of what I required and secretly smuggling them across our shared border.”

  “And what did they want in return?” Galen wondered out loud.

  “Oh, the number of discussions I had regarding that exact thing. Brings on a headache just thinking about it. But funny, how life works out. As the Idelski weren’t my only sticking point at that early stage. The once mild Morghdorns wanted their Shamans back and were beginning to make a lot of noise and fuss. Thankfully, I had three unmated males with early onset Knustabber for our media to focus upon instead. Their families frantic with worry, so delightfully distracted, desperate to find a cure. Praying their condition wouldn’t worsen, too busy for politics or game playing.”

  “You had no idea what would happen to those unmated males when you had your pets prematurely trigger them. You are lucky they didn’t die.”

  “No, something wonderful happened instead. The pieces all just fell into place like dominos. The Morghdorns attacked our border. Their sheer numbers were admittedly surprising. We sent troops immediately, who managed to drive them back, but the Morghdorns were relentless. No matter how many were cut down, the next day even more attacked. Five months into the battle it was clear our army were struggling to keep them at bay. Around the same time the first of our unmated males turned final stage stabby, killing sixty of my Guards in under ten minutes. And I had what you might call a lightbulb moment.”

  “Send the Berserkers to the Western Front, to hold the line.” Galen finished for her.

  “Yes, everyone approved of the idea. The males would remain useful members of society still. More importantly, being out of sight, their friends and family could convince themselves those young men were nobly sacrificing themselves for the good of the Realm. Well, that’s how I had my marketing people sell it. And what do you know, suddenly I had something the Idelski wanted. Protectors for their border and the media rights to cover the war so they could sell it on to the many Demon Realms that thirst for non-stop violence, even second hand. Sealing the deal a few years later was Flagstaff, he was so intensely… brutish. Perfect leading man material that the Idelski has been whining they needed to star in their footage. And with his elevation to symbolically lead the Battalion, suddenly everyone at Court was proud of our fighting efforts. Supportive. Insistent that we give no quarter. Begrudging me no resources. Allowing that if a Prince of the Realm could turn unmated Knustabber, that such a state could happen to anyone. No one questioned as more and more numbers followed.”

  “So what the hell do you need me for?” Galen still had one last piece of the puzzle missing. “Who do you need me to marry?”

  Laynn laughed huskily. “Oh, dear. You still have it all wrong. So blinkered.”

  Stephanie spoke up. “This was never about a political marriage of convenience. What your aunt needs is a replacement for Flagstaff, and you… popular, a Prince, current heir to the throne, her nephew… would be the perfect candidate to step into your uncle’s Berserker shoes and lead the Battalion on the Western front.”

  “Smart girl. Personally, I think Flagstaff has another century, if not two in him to keep fighting the good fight. But the Idelski…” Laynn huffed an annoyed sigh. “…they tell me their audiences are bored. They want fresh blood. A new Champion to step up and lead. According to the opinion poll results, you, fit the bill.”

  “You conducted surveys to find a replacement for Flagstaff?”

  “As I said, this is a business I am running here. The flow on effect from the war on our community is vitally important. Supplies. Transport. Medicine. Food production. Of course I love the money the war brings in, more importantly, our people have become dependent upon the on going conflict since I have ensured that everyone at Court has a financial finger or two in those pies.”

  “So there is never anyone to advocate for peace.” Stephanie mused.

  “There you have it. Any more annoying questions before we get down to the bloodshed portion of this little chat?”

  “Just one or two minor ones, if you would be so kind? Welst...” Galen glanced over at his cousin leaning sullenly against the doors still. “I’m finding it very hard to believe he’s known about all this and hasn’t let slip any of the details.”

  “My little woodchucks assure me that Welst’s mind is very malleable. Still, they re-set it so often I’m surprised he can remember his own name.”

  “Hey.” Welst protested.

  Laynn made a soft clicking sound and one of the Shaman turned and pointed a long twig like finger at Welst who instantly relaxed, looking rather blank and sleepy.

  “I’m know I’m his mother, but even I get why those surveyed didn’t think he was good replacement material for Flagstaff. You, on the other hand, Galen, perfect. Though I think it’s time you gave up a few secrets of your own.”

  “Like what?”

  “My little roots have never failed me before. Why won’t it take? What makes you so special that you keep resisting taking that final step? If I didn’t need you so badly on the frontline I’d be tempted to keep you, cut you open, and work out why. Not that I have any scientific training, I’d just like to rip you open considering how long this dreary episode has dragged on.”

  “Now?” Stephanie glanced at Galen, her blue eyes sparkling with anticipation.

  “Just a little bit longer.” He reached into his jacket pocket, extracting a small, electronic device. Holding it up to show his aunt.

  “What’s that?”

  “This is a recording device; I use it for dictation purposes when I’m on the move.”

  Laynn rolled her eyes, made several clicking sounds and one of the Shaman lifted a shaky twig hand, pointing a finger at the device. Galen dropped it to the floor as it emitted a small puff of grey smoke and sparks erupted.

  “Really? Haven’t you ever heard of the Cloud, Aunt? The recording of this conversation has already been uploaded and is set to be released to all my friends and relatives ten minutes after it ceases recording.”

  Laynn growled from between gritted teeth, turning to look at the Shamans, who cringed away, making barely audible, rustling, mewling sounds.

  “Destroy the bloody… Cloud thing.” Laynn demanded. “Don’t give me those looks. If I tell you to destroy something, I expect results. Or I’ll fire up the ovens, grab some marshmallows and begin roasting your toes.”

  “The Cloud is beyond the reach of your Shamans. Welcome to the last day of your reign. I can’t say it’s been fun.”

  “You… irritating, misbegotten, gnat. Kill the bimbo and incapacitate Galen with extreme prejudice. I want nothing but a bundle of bones left to ship off to the Western Front.”

  “Now?” Stephanie couldn’t help but bounce a little in place.

  “Have at it, Valkyrie.” Galen dropped Stephanie’s hand as her gold d
ress shimmered, to be replaced by a gleaming golden breastplate and knife edge pleated skirt. Her hatchets magically appeared in her raised hands. Lace up to the knee gold boots completed the outfit. She looked fierce and bloodthirsty. Galen was unsurprised to find himself more than a little turned on. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Keep Laynn from getting away.” Raising her hatchets higher still, Stephanie opened her mouth, her war cry echoing around the large room, the promise of a swift brutal death battering the eardrums of her enemies. Grinning, she raced forward to meet the twelve black clad Guards, her blonde ponytail streaming behind her like a banner of war.

  Now this was Stephanie’s idea of a party.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Galen stood blocking the exit. The prospect of subduing Laynn by what ever means necessary? A grim smile lifted the edges of his lips in anticipation, his hands curling into fists. He was pretty sure even his mother would say Laynn deserved a swift, hard punch, for turning her brother into a slathering, mindless savage, and attempting to send her only son down the same path.

  Before he could get too close though, Laynn raised her voice over the screams, cries of pain, and thuds of gold booted feet hitting meaty flesh to call for help. “Welst, protect mummy.”

  Galen assumed this was some kind of magical pre-programmed phrase, because he’d never known Welst to move so damn quickly, stepping between Galen and his mother. The look in his cousin’s eyes intent, focused, yet his face strangely lacking expression. The sword he whipped out was no flimsy, decorative item, this rapier was wicked edged and clearly meant for one thing and one thing only, killing.

  Shit. Galen jumped backwards, the tip of Welst’s sword only missing him by a quarter of an inch, parting the material of his left lapel. He twisted sideways as Welst followed through with a lunge. Wincing as the blade sliced across his ribcage, a shallow cut, but his cousin was only just getting started.

  Hell. He was going to have to brute strength this fight out, and could only pray that Welst didn’t slice him to ribbons before Galen could gain the upper hand and pound him into hamburger meat.

  He blocked the next swipe with his left forearm. Gritting his teeth as the blade cut through skin, muscle and tendons, to hit bone. Quickly pulling back his right fist, jabbing at Welst’s bruised throat. Unfortunately, his cousin proved light on his feet, dancing away out of range.

  Bobbing and weaving the next few sword swipes, Galen could only be heartily grateful for all his boxing training. By the Fiery Pits, he was liking his odds of toughening this out less and less. He needed a weapon. Pity there wasn’t any furniture available to break over Welst’s head.

  His cousin stalked him with extreme prejudice. Whatever magic was involved had wiped away his personality and left nothing but the master swordsmen behind.

  Retreating, Galen felt like they were performing some complicated dance. Shit, he couldn’t even put Welst off his game by playing with his mind, or getting under his skin, there was no one home right now in those black, dead eyes.

  “Galen.” Stephanie’s voice rose above the clashing of metal, screams, and cries emanating from the centre of the room. “Here.”

  Galen paid a price for looking around as Welst lunged, the rapier sliding in all too easily between his fourth and fifth ribs. But it was worth it, as Galen snatched the object Stephanie had hurled his way. A sword. Though first he had to detach the hand still clutching it. Hurling the bloodied stump Welst’s way.

  Raising the sword, he grinned. “My name is Galen Darvyn. You just generally piss me off, but more importantly, you sleazed all over my Valkyrie, prepare to die.”

  * * *

  What a relief. Have at it, Valkyrie. Sweeter words had never been spoken.

  Her war cry echoing off the walls. Challenging all comers. Stephanie couldn’t keep the gleeful smile at bay as she raced forward to meet the Queen’s Bodyguards. It might have been selfish to hog the majority of the violence. But she was a Valkyrie who hadn’t seen bloodshed for over three weeks now.

  Which, colour her surprised, really hadn’t proven that much of an imposition, as she swung her hatchets in an intricate sweeping pattern, carving in half one Guard at chest level and taking off the ear and a bit of scalp of the Demon to his right. Admittedly it felt good to get some exercise though. Take her hatchets out for a slash and spin, so to speak.

  Performing a backflip, she cut off two Guards as they attempted to sweep past her, heading for Galen.

  Stab. Slash. Spin. Kick. Stab. Stab. Duck and slash.

  A Demon screamed as he suddenly found himself quite literally cut off at the knees. His sneaky companion was too busy gurgling in horror, trying to stuff his guts back where they belonged to notice. His strength quickly giving out as he slumped to the floor.

  Damn, if Stephanie were honest, almost from the moment she fell into that hot spring, and one gorgeous Conflict Demon’s lap, her focus had shifted. Sure, duty had driven her to try and find a way back to the battlefield. But mentally, she had been way busier.

  Determinedly ignoring Galen with a ferocity, that looking back, spoke volumes in itself. Valkyries didn’t ignore. They tore, destroyed and killed. They didn’t put any effort into ignoring anything or anybody. So Galen must have caught her attention on a physical level from the outset. Then he’d proceeded to annoy, disturb and thoroughly perplex her… and still she hadn’t killed him.

  Damn, she’d been obtuse. But sue her. It’s not like Valkyries had any training when it came to their emotions. Their more violent ones were channelled to fight. And the other kind… she still remembered the two-minute sex education chat she’d received at school. It had gone along the lines of - fuck who ever you want, when ever you want. But if you break it, at least do the humane thing and kill it… once you are satisfied of course. There endth the lesson.

  There’d never been any talk of liking… loving anyone. For that a Valkyrie was on her own. And damn, Stephanie was forced to admit she’d been blindly obtuse. Problem was, even now that she was prepared to admit that she loved Galen Darvyn, she had no bloody idea what to do about it.

  The Guard who’d she partially scalped weaved forward into Stephanie’s line of sight, and call her OCD, but she couldn’t resist cutting off his remaining ear. There, much more pleasing aesthetically, as she spun, jumped, her right leg shooting backwards and smashing into the Demon’s jaw. His head snapping back, his eyes rolling upwards as he crumpled instantly to the cold cement floor.

  Out the corner of her eye she noted Galen and Welst fighting. Crap. Welst was using that sword like he knew what he was doing and Galen only had his fists and brute strength to call upon. She resisted the urge to race over there and protect her Demon. If she did that, she’d only lead the remaining eight Guards still in play his way. No. Come on, think.

  She contemplated hurling one of her beloved hatchets, burying it in Welst’s annoying back. The only thing stopping her was the fact Galen and Welst were moving so fast she was afraid she might accidentally hurt the wrong Demon.

  Ducking. Stephanie absently swiped out, lopping off the arm of the Guard who overreached as she stepped back. Oh, score. She grabbed for the decapitated forearm and still attached weapon before it hit the ground. Yes. Perfect.

  “Galen.” She called his name to give him fair warning. No one liked getting hit with a bloody stump in the face. “Here.” Throwing the sword and attached hand across the room.

  She spun quickly, twirled her hatchets with a dramatic flourish to keep the remaining Guards at bay just for a few seconds, glimpsing out the corner of her eye Galen catching her gift. Huh, and they say getting presents for your mate could be difficult. She was so ahead of the curve.

  Wait. Mate?

  She performed a cartwheel, bringing a hatchet sweeping upwards. Ew, yikes, that was a gory injury. She hoped that particular Guard already had children because he wouldn’t be having any in the future.

  Upright once more, Stephanie threw herself forward, leaping int
o the midst of three combatants. It was a simple matter of twirl and slash, just like a figure skater might do, but with hatchets and a lot of spraying blood and screams.

  Mate? She came back to ruminate over that alien word. Admitting she was in love with Galen, that was one thing. People fell out of love. You could love someone and leave them. But mating? That was on a cellular, primal level.

  But so what if Galen Darvyn was her mate, she wasn’t his. He’d been very clear from the beginning that though she might be close to his ideal woman, she failed on some obscure, undefined point to be considered in contention.

  Well, she’d just make him tell her what was wrong with her and she’d change.

  Wait, By Freyja’s Sword. Wrong with her? There was nothing wrong with her, she was Valkyrie, hear her war cry and run in the opposite direction if you wished to live.

  Change for a male of the species? Pah. Never.

  If Galen didn’t love her the way she was… Crap, Galen didn’t love her. A cold ball of dread expanded in Stephanie’s gut. If only these emotions could be handled like she would approach an opponent on the battlefield. But even she, emotionally stunted as she was, knew that putting Galen in a headlock and choking him until he declared his love wouldn’t work. Besides, he wouldn’t really mean it. His declaration would be worthless, hollow. She was a Valkyrie, they were all about the brutal truth... and bloodshed, of course.

  Grrr. When had her life gotten so messy? She had no idea how to make the Demon love her. She was reasonably sure she’d regret killing him if she tried to resolve this issue via her normal methods.

  Thankfully, another Guard chose that moment to attack. His sword clashing against Stephanie’s hatchets. She could only presume that the feral grin she gifted him with for stepping up and giving her someone to hurt was a little daunting. As he swallowed hard, looking a little shaken before tightening his grip on his sword, and lunging forward. Of course he was only the distraction. His buddy was erroneously thinking he could sneak up behind her.