Vikings' Brides Box Set

by Jessica Knight

  “Jericho, come on. We have a long journey ahead.”

  “Journey? My life is about to be cut short.”

  I want to say if he were paying attention to what he needed to be doing, this wouldn’t have happened. Instead, he was playing with the damn catapult to see if he could change the launching distance on it. The man loves shit like that, but right now, his passion blurred his duties. And now he must pay for it.

  We run to the stables and get our horses ready. The snow has decided to come down in heavy sheets, and we don’t have much time before mother nature traps us here. “I must go tell Lilith where I’m going.”

  “We don’t have time for that shit, Wulf. We need to go. My fucking life depends on it.”

  “Well, you should have thought about that before you decided to not care about the kingdom.”

  “How was I supposed to know she would leave? She has never done that before,” he argues.

  “Her father has never gone missing for so long either,” I point out. I have a half a second to decide what I want to do. If I turn left, I go to Lilith. If I turn right, the cold journey begins to try and find Lady Thyra. It will be hard, considering the tracks will be covered by the snow. In all honesty, I have no idea which direction to go in.

  “Shite, there he goes,” Jericho’s jaw clenches as Warlord Einarr dashes in the forest on his horse Jasmine. His cape of fur blows in the wind behind him, and soon he disappears into a veil of white.

  “We should go the other way. If we don’t find her before he does, both of us may be dead.” I’m not sure how I got roped into this situation, but all I can do is ride it out now and do what I do best. I’m a warrior first. It’s literally in my blood. If anyone can find Lord Troy and Lady Thyra, it’s me.

  My heart convulses as we ride away from the castle. Lilith will be worried sick, but I know someone will tell her what’s going on. Not only will she be concerned for me, but she will be worried about everyone else in the situation. I love that about her. She is full of compassion. It’s just one of a hundred reasons why she is going to make an amazing mother.

  Trident meets up with us a few minutes later, and now we are miles away from the castle, in the middle of a blizzard. All I can think about is if Lady Thyra is trapped in this, there is a good chance she has already frozen to death.

  “Don’t think like that,” Trident tells me. “We can’t think like that.”

  “I’m not thinking like anything.”

  “I see it on your face,” Jericho finishes what Trident is assuming. “I know because I’m thinking it too. Goddess, if I die, pour mead over my grave every day. It’s all I ask.”

  “Don’t be surprised if you don’t get buried once Warlord is done with you. Just what the fuck were you thinking, Jericho?”

  “I looked away for one bloody second. One!”

  “One is all it takes,” Trident snarls.

  I do my best to ignore the arguing between the two. I’m in the middle. Literally. Their horses are on either side of me. My right side has Trident’s grousing ringing loud like the south wall horn. On the left of me, Jericho is snarling, cursing Trident under his breath. It’s going to be a long few days if this keeps up. Trident and Jericho have never gotten along. Add Jericho’s fuck up to their already strained relationship, and I wager Trident wouldn’t be terribly upset if Jericho somehow froze to death out here.

  Harsh, but it’s reality.

  I try and tune them out and imagine Lilith, naked on the bed of furs at home, grabbing her swollen breasts that are filling with milk for our child. She’d beckon me to come close, crooking her finger in the air to seduce me—as if I’d need seducing. She only needs to breathe, and I’m hard as a rock for her.

  They are still bantering, but it’s just background noise right now. My eyes are up ahead, double checking the trail for any sign of tracks or broken limbs, but so far nothing. The snow is coming down harder, gathering on my lashes and making it difficult to blink. I wipe the cold flakes out of my face and grab the end of the fur attached to my back to drape it over my head.

  That’s better. I can see now without frozen water getting in my eyes. Up ahead, I notice something blowing in the cold, bitter breeze. It seems to have been there a while, for the material seems frozen and the dark color of the cloak is covered with white.

  “Men.” I try and interrupt the arguing, but somehow, they still manage to fucking argue. Since I’m not listening, I don’t have any clue what it can still be about. I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose. I wish one of them could have been left behind for this.

  If they keep going at it, the entire damn country will know what is going on, and then we may get taken by the Jackals.

  “Shut the fuck up and look!” I point to the cloak that is swinging on the branch.

  “Goddess, please do not tell me that is Lady Thyra’s. I’ll be sick.” Jericho covers his mouth with his fist, shoving down the apparent gag in his throat. “I’ll die an awful death. Goddess, I didn’t even get to try launching a Jericho ball.”

  I take the back of my hand and give him a good whack on the head. “Are you kidding me? A Jericho ball? Lady Thyra is missing, and all you can think about is that foolish catapult.”

  “It’s a new weapon I’ve made. It would help win the battle if a war ever started at the castle. I’m concerned with Lady Thyra; I am, I just—”

  “—Shut up.” I’m tired of hearing him speak.

  He mumbles something under his breath, but I don’t bother trying to understand what it is. I dip my head below a branch and grab the cloak in hand. There’s no blood on it, no tears, no sign of struggle. It can be a trap. This could be a set up. I glance around, trying to see if I can see anything through the dead branches and piles of snow, but it’s quiet.

  Almost too quiet. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Silence is never good. No one else is here. We aren’t surrounded. So there is no threat of attack. Why is Lady Thyra’s cloak all the way out here? I sigh and lay it across Dire’s neck. “Let’s go a bit further, and then we shall call it a night.”

  Dire takes one step forward, and suddenly his hooves hit something hallow. A loud clunk echoes off the empty trees in the barren woods. I lean to the side and tilt my head down to see what we could be walking on that can cause such a noise, but I don’t see anything. It’s merely layers of snow, not even the disruption of hooves in the gorgeous white lets me see the ground.

  “Something is under here,” I call to the others. I swing my leg over Dire and drop to the ground. I test out whatever we are standing on and jump, but whatever it is doesn’t give. I get on my knees and brush away the eight inches of snow and see wood. Not dirt or a trail, but wood. “Goddess, what has Lady Thyra done? Get down here, the both of you! Set shelter for the horses. Something is here.”

  “It’s probably an old piece of wood,” Jericho offer.

  “Right. We will listen to you, the fool with an attention span of a field mouse,” Trident whips back and starts to brush off the snow.

  “I should kill you,” Jericho places a hand on his sword, and Trident tosses his head back.

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  “Would you both shut the hell up and help me? You’re a bickering married couple. It’s annoying. If you are going to be like this, go back to the castle and tell Lord Grimkael you couldn’t get your head out of your arse because of your inability to act like men.”

  I dust off the snow furiously, wishing both of them would go away, and then I can find Lady Thyra. I’m the only one with my head on straight anyway. “Annoying whiney little brats is what you are, the both of you,” I grumble. My hand hits something solid. Metal of some sort.

  All of us stop speaking. We stop breathing. Lady Thyra had found something in her journey. She had found a trapped door and left her cloak to help us find it. Oh, the woman is brilliant.

  “Where do you think it leads?” Trident asks.

  I wrap my hand around the small han
dle and tug. It opens, and the iron hinges squeal from not being used enough. Stairs disappear into darkness, and my body fills with fear and nervousness. Like I am walking into danger. I haven’t been this excited in so long.

  “One way to find out.”

  I give Trident a knowing grin and take the first step into unknown territory.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Lilith

  It’s been years since Beowulf has left me to go search for Lady Thyra.

  Well, it has not been years, just a day and a half, but it has felt like years. Rian is playing in the snow, making a snowman with another child in the kingdom. It’s a relief. It’s been the first time since he has been here that he hasn’t cried or slept all day. I think it was his way of mourning and wrapping his four-year-old brain around the horrible truth that his parents are not coming back.

  I sip on my tea, smiling around the rim of my mug as Rian’s giggles travel through the air. He is on the ground now, making something resembling an angel.

  Lady Sassa sits next to me on the bench, dark circles under her eyes from the lack of sleep she has been getting. The disappearance of her friend has stressed her out. Lady Sassa isn’t her bright, smiling self. I must say, I miss it.

  “How are you faring, Lady Sassa?” I ask, taking her hand in mine.

  Her right hand drops on mine. I don’t miss the slight shake of her bottom lip. She stares at the children playing, trying to find some sort of happiness, but it doesn’t seem to work. Tears fall, pounding against her cheeks like a thunderstorm letting go of rain.

  “I’m so worried. My stomach has just been a mess. I’m all tied up in knots. This isn’t like her. She doesn’t do these sorts of things. I’m worried the Jackals have her. Goddess, I don’t know what I’d do without her. She’s my best friend. I already miss her.”

  “Oh, Lady Sassa. Come here.” I pull her into a tight hug, letting the Lady of the kingdom cry on my shoulder. “She is smart and strong. She will be home soon.” But even as the words leave my mouth, they leave a repugnant taste. The Jackals are ruthless people. Wild and soulless. They will kill whoever they want, take whoever they want, and rule whatever they want.

  They will destroy everything in their path just for a sad little apple tree. Truly horrible people.

  “Einarr will lose his mind if something happens to her. He loves her fiercely. She is the only one to talk him down from being absolutely heartless,” she says with a teasing smile. Her eyes meet mine, and she is fighting back tears. Her eyes crinkle around the corners, and her lips purse, keeping whatever she is about to say locked away.

  I’m not the type to push. I truly believe that if someone wishes to tell me something, they will tell me on their own accord. “He is a very intimidating man.”

  “He will become murderous without her. You don’t understand. She is what keeps him grounded. She is what keeps him from losing himself. I know she loves her father, but Lord Troy is much more capable of taking care of himself in these conditions than she is. The Jackals won’t be kind to a beautiful woman such as herself. Goddess.” Her face falls into her hands. She must be imagining Lady Thyra with the Jackals as we speak.

  No, they won’t be kind. Jackals aren’t known for being kind. I can speak to that myself. I truly hope for Lady Thyra’s sake that she is safe. I wouldn’t wish that hell on anybody, not ever.

  Lady Sassa pulls away when Alaric comes limping to the other side of the bench. He has made a pretty quick recovery for only waking up a day ago. Although, it seems he will always walk with a limp. The Jackals broke a bone years ago, and it never healed properly. Leiva cannot do anything about it.

  “Alaric, how are you feeling?” Lady Sassa asks through sniffles and teary eyes.

  He waves his hand as if how he feels does not matter. “I’m fine. Nothing a little rest can’t fix. Plus, I love the snow. It’s been so long since I’ve seen it.”

  “Because you were in that cage!” Lady Sassa cries. “Goddess, that’s where she is. I know it. She shall never see snow again. I must go. I… I…” Lady Sassa runs across the yard, barely missing the wee ones who are throwing snowballs at each other and runs inside the castle.

  “Was it something I said?” Alaric kicks the snow with his feet, staring down at the ground with furrowed brows. “I didn’t mean to upset her.”

  “No, nothing like that. You and I may have dealt with this before, but she has not. She is worried about her friend. Lady Thyra has gone missing since you woke up. She is worried the Jackals have her.”

  “Goddess, I hope not.”

  “Are you okay?” I finally question him. I haven’t been able to get much alone time with him since he woke up. Rian takes up all my time. Guilt chews at me, and I suck my bottom lip into my mouth. One of the memories I have is being slung over a shoulder and leaving the cage. Alaric crawled on his hands and knees, gripping the bars of his cell as he watched the Jackals take me away. I’ll never forget the fear in his eyes. It will haunt me for the rest of my life.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Whatever for?” His blue eyes widen, and his lashes are long, almost touching his brows. His cheeks are red from the cold, and black bruises darken his face where the Jackals beat him. I take his hand in mine, and my thumb rubs over the cuts on his hand. Every inch of him has been harmed.

  “For not coming for you sooner. I don’t know if you know this, but I couldn’t remember anything when I woke up here. I didn’t even remember Beowulf.”

  “No! You loved him. You spoke of him every chance you got.”

  I give him a sad smile, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, so it stops blowing in the wind and stinging my face. “I couldn’t remember, so I couldn’t remember you either. I just want to let you know that I’m so sorry.”

  “It isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known. Plus, they change places all the time, remember? When I left, it wasn’t the same place that you were in. They will only be there for a few more weeks before they uproot themselves again.”

  “Beowulf will stop this madness. It’s going to come to an end.”

  “Evil never ends, Lilith. Never.”

  “But good always prevails.”

  His smile is tight, a bit hopeless. “I hope you are right for everyone’s sake.”

  A horn sounds from a distance, but it is from the North wall, where people come and go as they please.

  “Beowulf,” I whisper in the breeze and stand, looping my arm through Alaric’s and pulling him behind me as I hurry to the main gate.

  “Slow down. My leg.”

  My hands cover my mouth in a horrendous realization that I could have hurt him further. “I’m sorry. I’m so excited to see if it is Beowulf. He may have news.”

  “I know. I know. It’s fine.”

  “Rian! Come on. Uncle Beowulf may be home.”

  “Uncle Beowoof! Uncle Beowoof!” he squeals, throwing himself into my arms. I swing him around, legs spanning out as we spin in a circle and plop him on my hip.

  “You are truly adorable, boy,” Alaric bops Rian’s nose.

  Rian wrinkles the cute button, clearly not liking what Alaric thinks of him. “I’m a big man now. I am not adorable. I’m like my Uncle Beowoof. I’m handsome. Right, Mommy Lilif?”

  I gasp, not believing the words I just heard. He has never called me that before. I want to turn back the time and hear it all over again. I try and find my voice, but it’s stuck. I press a kiss to his forehead and smile, pressing the urge to cry away from sheer bliss. “That’s right, sweet boy.”

  He gives me a big grin, showing dimples on his cheeks. My mind travels to my child. Beowulf’s child. Will our baby be a boy? Or a girl? Will they have dimples? I hope they have Beowulf’s sweet side, but brutal when need be, so they can protect themselves better than I can.

  With Rian’s head of curls on my shoulder and Alaric holding onto my other arm to help himself trudge through the snow, we finally walk under the bridge that connects the east and wes
t side of the castle.

  We round the east tower, and finally, I see them. Beowulf, Trident, and Jericho. In Beowulf’s hand is Lady Thyra’s cloak. He has a smile on his face despite how it may look that he is holding a piece of her clothing, but she is not with them.

  The closer I get to him, I see smudges of dirt on his face and clothes. It looks like he had a play in the mud. Just what has he been up to?

  “Angel,” he says with a large, sparkling white smile. He reaches for me with one hand and jerks me forward. I yelp, but he shushes me up quickly with his kiss. “I’ve missed you.”

  The rushing of boots sloshing through the snow has me turning around to see Warlord and The Lord rushing to Beowulf. They look menacing. Their fur cloaks flowing behind them, scowls deepening the slight wrinkles on their face, and Einarr’s eyes dart to Jericho, a flash of murderous rage swimming in them.

  “Tell me you have something,” Lord Grimkael grows.

  “Oh, I have something. Warlord, Lady Thyra is brilliant.” Beowulf hands over the cloak, and Warlord Einarr brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply.

  I see him as a different man in that moment. His eyes close, letting his love’s scent coil through his veins again. He seems at ease, and the scar on his face relaxes. “It smells of her still.”

  Lady Sassa wasn’t joking. He truly is a different person when it comes to his wife.

  “She hung her cloak in a tree right above a secret trapped door. It was covered with snow, and it goes deep into the ground, but Lord, there are tunnels. You know the tunnels beneath the castle? They are connected to those, and they travel underground in the directions of North, South, East, and West. This is our way to defeat the Jackals.”

  “Then where is she? Why isn’t she back?” Warlord Einarr steps forward, clutching the cloak to his chest.

  “I’m assuming her father is down there too. I think Lord Troy stumbled upon the door himself at some point in his life, told Lady Thyra, and that is why Lady Thyra went. She knew where her father would be. Why he would be down there, I have no idea.”