The Viking's Chosen by Quinn Loftis (20)

“Is she all right?” I asked, for what felt like the hundredth time when Lidia came out of Allete’s room carrying a basket full of dirty linens and clothes. The last time I had seen Allete, she’d looked exhausted. No, she’d been more than exhausted. The strain of bringing a drowned child back to life had sapped all of her strength. I’d put her to bed after the ordeal and, almost three days later, I’d yet to see her again.

I was not the only man wanting to see the princess. But I was the only man who had the right to be by her side. At least that was how I felt—rational or not.

“She is just resting,” Lidia said gently. She said it just as kindly this time as she had the ninety-nine times I had previously asked.

“Can—” I began, but she interrupted me.

“As soon as she says she wants to see people, you will be the first to know,” she assured me and then, with a slight head bow to Brant, the girl scurried off.

I was about to speak, but I clamped my lips together when Allete’s door was jerked open. Dayna stuck her head out and glanced at me, then grinned at Brant, causing the big mountain to smile back.

“Allete asked me to inquire about the child,” she said, looking back at me.

I stared back at her blankly. If she thought I was about to leave my post in front of her door, she’d gone mad.

Brant let out a loud sigh. “I’ll see about the child. Do you know where I would need to go?” he asked Dayna.

“The kitchen,” she said and started to shut the door.

Brant’s large hand moved swiftly and met with the door to keep her from closing it. “You mean the mother works in the kitchen, or the child is there?”

“Neither,” Dayna said as if it should be completely apparent. “Everyone knows that if you want to know anything about anyone, then you go to the kitchen. Just pop in and listen for a few minutes. You will probably come back with more information than you need.”

“You want me to pop in?” Brant asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Could you both refrain from dallying in front of me?” I huffed. It was childish of me, but I did not want Brant to get to see the object of his affection, if I was being kept from seeing mine. Brant glanced at me from the corner of his eye with a raised brow. He knew exactly why I was acting like a pouting child.

“I will be back,” he told Dayna, and with one last amused look at me, he walked away.

I turned to say something to Allete’s sister in the hope that I could somehow talk her into letting me see the princess, but the door was shut before I could get a word out.

I leaned my back against it and thudded my head against the wood as the frustration that had been growing inside of me rose to a dangerous level. I did not understand my driving need to see her. I loved her, but did that mean it would be my demise if I was unable to make sure she was well? Would I survive if I was not the one caring for her, ensuring that she was healthy and safe? I didn’t want to answer those questions. I already knew the answers. I’d never been tied to anything so tightly as I was to Allete. She was the weakness I’d never had. But she was also what made me stronger in so many ways. I smiled to myself as I thought of how challenging she could be at times and yet how compassionate she was at the same time. She was stubborn and yet she was funny. She made me want to do anything for her, to be anything she wanted me to be, and that meant she was also dangerous. There was no one I wouldn’t destroy, no country I wouldn’t crush, no god I wouldn’t challenge, if it meant keeping her safe, or if she even asked me to, for that matter.

“You can only hide for so much longer, Allete,” I muttered under my breath. “Before the ‘morrow, I will see you again.”

I took a deep breath as I sat on the edge of my bed. “How’d he look?” I asked my youngest sister as she closed the door.

“Thoroughly put out,” Dayna chuckled.

“You enjoy torturing him way too much,” I told her.

“Maybe, but he’s a big strong warrior. He can handle it. And if he can’t handle it, then he is not worthy of your affection.” She paused and took the seat next to the bed. “Speaking of affection, dear sister, are you ever going to tell me what happened between you two?”

My eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play coy with me,” Dayna tsked. “It’s written all over both of your faces. Something more than words has been exchanged between you two. You’ve kissed him.”

“That is quite an accusation against an engaged woman,” I said as I brushed invisible lint away from my night dress. It was the third one I’d worn in the past few days because I’d been too tired to get up and dress myself properly. Saving the little girl had taken much, much, more out of me than I’d realized it would. For some reason, I just couldn’t seem to bounce back like I usually did. Even after three days of rest, I felt just as exhausted as I did when Torben had put me to bed.

“You aren’t engaged,” she snapped. “What you have is a farce. Cathal isn’t worthy to be the groom of a prize hog. Actually, he isn’t worthy to be the groom of a regular hog, much less a prized one.”

I shook my head at her. “One of these days that tongue of yours is going to get you into trouble that you won’t be able to get yourself out of.”

She waved me off. “When that day comes, I’m sure I’ll deserve whatever happens. I rely on my cleverness to function, sister. If I haven’t got that, then I don’t have anything.”

I laughed, and even that simple action seemed to zap what little strength I had been able to regain over the past three days. I lowered myself back and she jumped up to help me. “You are a silly woman,” I told her as she helped me pull the covers up.

“Ah,” she said as she tapped me gently on the nose. “But you are finally admitting I’m a woman, and not a kid.”

“That you are, sister mine. And I will admit you are turning into quite an amazing one.” My eyes felt heavy, but even through the small slits I was holding open, I could see the worry on her face.

“You should be better by now,” she said, not for the first time. “I don’t understand why you aren’t getting better.”

I shrugged. “I don’t think I have ever brought any one back to life before. The girl’s spirit was almost gone, Day. Much longer and I don’t think I would have been able to help.” My words felt heavy in my mouth, and I could no longer hold my eyes open.

“Just rest, Allete. We will keep watch,” I heard Dayna whisper and felt her warm lips against my temple.

“Don’t let him see me like this,” I managed to whisper back. She knew I meant Torben. I hadn’t let him into my room in three days because I knew his reaction would be severe. If he saw how pale I had become, and how I shivered as if it were snowing in my chambers, Torben would demand I see a healer. And a vain part of me didn’t like the idea of him seeing me in such a mess, although he’d already seen me as such. I would prefer to keep such things to a minimum if possible.

Sleep swept over me and I knew nothing that went on around me as the darkness consumed me. My sleep was far from restless. Fire, screams, and roars filled my mind. I felt as though there were so many injured, so many sick, and there was nothing I could do. There were many more than I was capable of healing. But I had to try. I kept searching in the darkness, hollering out for them to tell me where they were but there was no reply to my questions. There was only more yelling and more cries for help. Eventually the dream changed, and I was no longer surrounded by the screams. Instead, I was faced with Torben, a very angry, very large, Torben.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice sounding strange to my ears.

“What are you talking about? Tell you what?” I asked quickly, confused by his anger. I did not want him angry with me.

“I could have helped you; I could have fixed this.”

“I don’t understand,” I tried again. “What didn’t I tell you?”

“You needn’t have done this on your own, princess. That is why I was made for you. I was created to help you. You should have let me help you.”

Help me with what? I wanted to scream, but I was suddenly unable to speak. I reached for him, but Torben began backing away from me, the pain in his eyes becoming a mirror of what I knew he saw in my own. He was leaving me. I kept reaching for him, but he just kept getting farther and farther away.

I woke with a start, sitting straight up in bed with my hands fisted into the duvet. My heart was beating painfully in my chest, and I felt as though I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs. Gradually my eyes adjusted, and I realized how dark the room had grown while I’d been asleep. I wasn’t sure of the time but, judging by the lack of light and the silence that filled the castle, I judged it to be the middle of the night.

I took several deep breaths, attempting to gather myself. No matter how hard I tried, however, I couldn’t seem to calm down. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I slowly began to scan the darkened room. I wasn’t alone. I didn’t know how I knew, but with a certainty that matched the inevitability of the rising sun, I knew without a doubt that there was someone else in my chambers. Whoever was here was someone like me—someone with magic.

“Show yourself,” I spoke as firmly as I could, willing the shakiness from my voice. I was not sure what I expected, maybe a shimmering light and then a magical pop of some sort? But what I got was simply an old woman, seeming to emerge from the shadows as if she were a part of them.

“You have grown into such a beautiful woman since I last saw you,” the woman said in a voice full of warmth and familiarity.

I was confused. Not only by the fact that there was a strange woman in my room, but also by the fact that she seemed familiar with me, and yet I had not a clue as to her identity.

“Why am I not calling for help?” I asked her before I could stop myself.

“Because you know that I am not a danger to you,” she said simply. “And because I do not want you to.

“I do?”

She nodded. “Your magic would recognize if I possessed ill intent.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I have my own sort of power about me. And magic recognizes certain things, even when we do not.”

“And our magic…” I motioned to myself and then to her. “It’s alike?”

“Not exactly.”

I started to shift to sit on the edge of the bed, but my body felt sluggish and heavy. Although I could still feel the fear inside of me, my body seemed to be all out of fight. “I really feel like I should be afraid right now,” I said to the woman as I eased myself back onto my pillow to keep from falling like a pile of rocks. “But I just don’t have it in me.”

She walked slowly over to me, her movements stiff from age. When she reached me, the woman gingerly took the duvet that was still clasped in one of my hands and tugged it free to then pull it up and cover me. “You have no need to fear me, Allete,” she said soothingly. “My name is Myra, and I’m here to help.”

“Do I know you?” I asked.

Myra shook her head. “No, but I know you, and that is what is important. You brought a soul back from the netherworld, and the action has left your spirit wounded. It is tearing your soul in half.”

“How do you—” I began, but stopped when she held up her hand.

“I wish there was more time, child, but there is not. I was not aware that this was going to happen. Magic can have a mind of its own. And news of your illness did not get to me until late this evening. Little Amelia was eager to tell me of how an angel saved her, but her mother had made her rest before she could come tell me.”

“Amelia?” I was trying to make sense of her words, but my mind was sluggish. She sounded muffled, as if I were listening to her from the bottom of a well. I tried to concentrate, but it seemed that she was speaking so quickly.

“I am not speaking quickly, Allete, you are fading. Shush now and listen. You need the one who calls to your soul. You need your anchor. Every seer and every healer must have a counterpart. The anchor keeps your soul tethered to his soul. This, in turn, keeps you tethered to the living. Without your anchor, your life will slowly begin to fade, with each piece of it you give away to those in need. And with one like Amelia, who needed so much, it fades even faster.”

“Anchor? My soul? I don’t understand,” I tried to say, but I wasn’t sure if my words made sense. Was I dying? Was that what Myra was trying to tell me?

“You will die if you do not allow Torben into your presence. He is your anchor. He can help you,” Myra said, her voice growing more urgent. “You have to be willing to let him help. Are you willing, child? Will you let Torben of the Hakon Clan, future king of his people and father of your young, to tether your life to his?”

I stared up at the old woman, wondering if I was delusional. Had I imagined this woman? Was my mind slipping into oblivion? Had I subconsciously, as an act of psychic self-defense, conjured the specter of an old woman whose words could give me hope? I could no longer tell if she was real or simply a figment of my imagination. When my breathing became even more difficult, I decided that, real or not, I was going to allow myself to believe that her words of hope were true.

“Yes,” I answered simply, and to my own ears, my voice was breathy and barely audible.

“Thank the gods, finally,” I heard her mutter. There was a loud bang, and then I heard Myra yell. “Get in here, Torben of the Hakon Clan, if you want your woman to live.”

I could see her shattered face as she stared back at me, begging me to understand why I was saying such things to her. I wish I knew why I kept telling her I could help. But the problem was, I did not understand my own words. I didn’t know what was wrong and had no clue how to help and it was maddening. She was sick. I had no idea why and no idea how to fix her.

“Get in here, Torben of the Hakon Clan if you want your woman to live.”

The familiar voice woke me from sleep that I hadn’t eve realized had captured me. Brant was across from me, wide awake.

“You needed it,” he said by way of explanation at my, no doubt, irritated face.

Then it registered that someone had called my name. I turned and grabbed the door handle and pushed it open without even knocking or announcing myself. Myra stood by Allete’s bed, hovering over the princess’s too-still form.

“What have you done?” I snarled. The anger in me rose swiftly as I lunged toward the witch.

“Peace, warrior,” Myra said and held up a hand freezing me in place. “I mean her no harm. I am here to help her, and you.”

“Release me,” I snapped, irritated that she had ensnared me so easily. She did immediately and I was in motion once again. But instead of heading for Myra, I moved to the other side of the bed and climbed onto it, walking across on my knees until I was beside Allete. “Tell me,” I demanded.

“She needs you,” the witch said simply.

“What do I do?” When she did not answer right away, I lifted my head and looked at her. She was looking back at me with a pleased gleam in her tired eyes.

“You are a good match for her.”

“I am no match for her if she is dead. Tell me what to do so I can fix this.” I looked back down at the woman that the gods had given to me and felt my chest tighten at the sight of how pale she was.

“A blood oath needs to be struck, and your souls need to be bound.”

“Do it,” I said without pause.

“Just like that?” she asked. “No explanation as to why?”

“Will it save her life?”

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t give a shite as to why, just do it.”

Myra began a slow, melodic chant, and as the room warmed and filled with the smell of incense and wood fire. I had to look away from Allete to see what was happening. The old witch was bathed in a golden light, and her hair floated around her as though she were suspended in water. Her eyes were closed and her hands out, her palms toward the ceiling. As I watched, a dagger with an intricately adorned handle appeared. The sight of something so deadly so close to Allete caused my need to protect her to surge forth, but I kept it in check. Myra had helped us before, and I needed to believe she was helping us again.

The witch’s eyes opened, and she held out her hand to me. “Blood is powerful. It gives life and the lack of it takes life away. Blood oaths work in the same manner. They give life to the joined pair, and they can take life if broken. You must truly want this and be unwavering in your commitment to her. Can you do that?”

“I can and I will,” I answered, using the oath binding language of my own clan.

“Expose the skin above your heart.”

My eyes narrowed on her. “Why?”

“Because the blood closest to the heart is the purest and cleanest. It is this blood that will be joined with hers,” she explained.

I did as she asked. Myra ran the dagger across my flesh, just over my heart. The blood welled up instantly, the bright red like a beacon against my tan skin. She coated either side of the edge of the blade in my blood and then looked down to Allete.

“You may turn your head to protect her modesty, as she is not yet your wife, but witnessing the blood binding is powerful. As she cannot observe the ceremony, perhaps you should.”

I leaned over Allete and positioned the duvet so that it would keep as much of her covered as possible while still exposing the creamy flesh over her heart. I ignored the fact that her skin smelled like lilacs and looked as soft as silk. And I bit back a growl as Myra ran the blade across that beautiful skin.

She laid the blade on its side across the cut, wiping my own blood on the wound, mixing the two liquids.

“Do you, Torben, accept your place as the soul anchor of Allete, Seer and Healer of the Hakon clan, committing your spirit to hers for all eternity? Do you agree to care for her, shelter her, and provide for her needs so that she can perform the task the gods have given to her? Do you swear to protect her from all threats? Do you bind yourself to these oaths with your life, knowing it is forfeit should you fail to keep the covenant you speak here today?”

“I do and I will.”

“Help me wake her,” she commanded.

“How?”

“Your blood is giving her strength as we speak. The magic of the bond you are forming between her now should be enough to wake her.”

“Allete. Princess,” I said gently as I shook her shoulder. “Wake up for me. I need to see you.”

She didn’t stir.

I leaned closer and pressed a kiss to her neck just below her ear. “Hear me, Allete. I am yours. I’ve pledged it. I need to know that you are mine. I need you. Hear me,” I whispered pushing every ounce of that need into my voice.

After several heartbeats, she finally began to move. Her eyes shifted beneath her lids and then gradually began to flutter until they were open. She was looking directly up at me. Her brow drew together as the realization that I was in her room, on her bed with her, washed over her. Then her face scrunched up, her lips pulling tightly together.

“Ow,” she grumbled as she reached up and rubbed her chest where the cut had been made. Then, several remarkable things seemed to come to her mind all at once. “You have long hair and a beard. You’re in my room.” She turned and looked at Myra. “With a woman who claims to have magic. And you let her cut me.” Her eyes began to blaze with the heat of the anger that made me want to poke her more just to see how far I could push her. “What is going on, Torben, and why do you look like that?”

“Do you trust me?” I asked.

She nodded without even thinking. “I don’t know if I should any more since you allowed someone to carve me like a holiday bird.”

I smirked. “Being a bit dramatic, don’t you think, princess?”

“I woke up bleeding. I am entitled to dramatics.”

“I told you that you needed your anchor to survive,” Myra interrupted. “Do you remember that?”

She nodded.

“Torben is your anchor. He is the match for your soul, and without him, your ability to heal and continuation to do so will take a piece of your life with every attempt.”

“What?” I growled. “You didn’t say any of that to me, witch.”

“Did you want me to take time to explain while she slipped further into oblivion, or did you want her to live?”

I pursed my lips. “All right, you have sound reasoning.”

Myra turned back to Allete. “We have begun the bonding process by the joining of his blood with yours. Hence the cut.” She pointed to the wound. The bleeding had slowed, but not fast enough for my liking. I tore a piece of my tunic and pressed it to the wound. Allete slapped my hand away which made me chuckle.

“One day, princess, you won’t be pushing my hands away,” I said, knowing it would ignite her temper.

“Want to bargain on whether you can hold your breath longer than I can keep pushing your hands away?”

“Would you two please stop acting like kids with crushes and complete this bond so you both can be stronger?” Myra snapped.

I was too busy grinning down at the woman I had fallen for, loving that she always rose to the challenges that I threw at her. She was my equal in every way—my soul match.

Allete shot me one more glare before turning back to Myra. “Am I marrying him?”

Myra shook her head. “One day I’m sure you will marry in the way of your people. But what we are doing is more permeant. It is a merging of souls. There is no bond that is its equal. Soul matches are a rare occurrence that only happen with those who possess magic. This is not to be taken lightly.”

Allete turned and looked up at me. “You truly want this? We’ve only known each other a short while, and I still have no idea why you look so barbaric at the moment.”

“I am a Northman, a Viking. Myra put a spell on me and my men to make us look like Englishmen so we would be easily accepted as guards. What you are seeing now is what I truly look like.”

“Why did you come here and pretend to be my guard?” she asked.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “That’s a bit complicated.”

“I’m about to bind my soul to yours. Un-complicate it, and do it quickly.”