Dreams of a Dark Warrior (3 page)

relaxed, though he stil seemed preoccupied. She took the opportunity to study him up close.

His towering frame was even more imposing, his height at least six and a half feet. His white tunic was

of a fine weave, fitted over those wide shoulders. Black trews of soft leather outlined his powerful legs.

When a breeze blew up from the val ey below, carrying the scent of summer wheat and stirring the blond

hair around his face, she had the urge to sigh.

The midnight sun had final y set, and as they walked, he gazed up at the stars, as if for some kind of

guidance. For the last week, as she’d searched for Lucia in this strange world of mortals, she’d often

done the same. “Whatever is your question, warlord, the stars wil not answer you.”

He peered down at her with those intense gray eyes, rekindling her ridiculous urge to sigh. “Mayhap

they already have.”

Before she could question his words, he stopped before the largest longhouse in the camp, opening

the door for her. The interior was rich, with woven rugs on the packed dirt floor. A gleaming table with two chairs sat at one end and a thick pal et of furs covered the opposite end. A fire burned in a center pit.

He took a pair of candles from a generous supply of them and lit the wicks in the fire, then placed them

in holders flanking a polished bear skul .

“Are you wealthy?” she asked. “For a mortal?”

“I’ve won spoils enough. But what do you know of coin? You are the daughter of gods.”

“I know I have none, and I need it for food.”

He strode to the doorway, ordering some servant outside to bring their dinner, then sat at the table. He

waved her to the other chair.

When she removed her gloves and cloak, her boy’s clothes beneath—trews and a tunic—earned

another disapproving frown. She shrugged and joined him, feeling like an adult to be sharing a lord’s table.

Even if he was only a warlord.

“This world is a dangerous place for a girl, Reginleit. And you are not invulnerable to harm.”

She shook her head. No, she’d not reached her immortality yet. She could stil be injured, grow

sickened, even die. Though she wouldn’t need food as an adult Valkyrie, now she required it to grow.

“Then what possessed you to leave the safety of your home, child?”

“I am no child! And I’ve been safe enough.”
Except for the bloodthirsty foes I had to face to reach this
side of the conflict.
“I’ve slain vampires.” But it’d been close.
I lost my sword early in that skirmish, too.

He waved away her words as if they were mere fables. “Reginleit, answer me.”

Though she suspected she should be secretive and cautious with a stranger like this, she’d never

learned to be either. And she needed his help. Out spil ed the truth: “I fol owed my favorite sister when she fol owed a man. He promised to wed Lucia, yet I am uneasy. She is everything to me, and I believe she is

in danger.” Regin couldn’t explain how she knew, but she felt as if time was running out for her sister.

“You left heaven for her? Though you can never go back?”

“’Tis forbidden for a Valkyrie to return.”

“Then I applaud your loyalty.”

“She would do the same for me.” As exasperated as Regin made her—indeed, al her sisters—she

knew Lucia loved her.

“You sought me this night,” he said. “What would you have me do?”

“I need assistance to find Lucia.”

“Done,” he said with a shrug. “I wil do everything possible to reunite her with you.”

Regin blinked up at him. “Because you serve Wóden?”

“Nay.” He rose to pace, running his hand over his mouth. “I do this because we wil serve each other.”

“I do not take your meaning.”

“There is no easy way to say this. Reginleit, when you are grown, you wil become my wife.”

“Are you mad, mortal?” she cried, her skin glowing brighter. “Like my sister Nïx?”

“Nïx the Ever-Knowing, the soothsayer?”

“She’s touched with visions. What is your explanation?”

He looked to stifle a grin. “You are direct, a good trait. But I’m not mad. I’m a berserker. Do you

understand what the men of my people are?”

“I’ve heard tales of your kind. You’re stronger than other mortals, faster. And you’re al possessed by

the spirit of a beast. The snarling, the fighting, the possessiveness—al the traits of a lean bear in winter.”

“’Tis true. And the beast in me sensed its mate, rousing inside me from your very first words. I thought

you would be older when we met, but I feel fortunate just to have found you.”

He said this as if it was an understatement. She was speechless. A rarity.

“In the morn, I wil take you to my family’s holdings in the north,” he continued. “My parents wil complete your upbringing and keep you safe until I return for you. I wil bring your sister there to join you.”

An actual madman stood before her! This situation grew interesting. Regin found she might like to play

with mad mortals. Feigning an earnest tone, she asked, “And how long would it be until you returned for

me?”

“Mayhap in five or six years. When you are grown, and I have warred enough to earn my own

immortality. Then we would wed.”

Ah, she remembered now. Berserkers could earn
ohalla,
deathlessness, from Wóden once they’d won

two hundred battles in his name. They tattooed his mark—dual ravens in flight—upon their chests.

She wondered if the battles had come before the rule, or if the rule had spurred the battles. “I’m to sit

there and wait for you? What if another mortal decides I’m to be his chattel instead?”

His hands clenched. “You are meant for
me
alone,” he said in a strange tone. “Do you understand

what I am saying?”

“I’m not ignorant of such things.” She was almost completely ignorant of such things—of men, of

coupling. She couldn’t comprehend why her sister would ever voluntarily leave the paradise of Valhal a to

fol ow a man.

One I do not trust.

“Reginleit, you wil not know another male.” His gaze held hers. “I consider us wed from this moment

on.”

What a crazed mortal; how touched in the head. Her father would turn this berserker to ash if he dared

kidnap her and force her to wed him. Perhaps she oughtn’t toy with Aidan anymore? “Reconsider. You’re

far too old for me. One foot in the grave and the other doddering at the edge.”

He glowered. “I am not that old! I’ve only thirty winters.”

She began to fear that he wouldn’t be dissuaded, so she said, “I might look upon your suit, but only if

you help me save Lucia first.”

He shook his head firmly. “You wil tel me where to find her. And I wil do so only once I’ve conveyed

you safely to my people.”

“You can never locate her without me.” As a sister Valkyrie, Regin could sense her if she got close

enough. “And we haven’t time to dal y.”

“You came to me for guidance, and this is my decision—”

“Guidance! You
are
mad. And arrogant. I am the daughter of
gods
. I came to you for a horse, food, and mayhap a pair of outriders. So I could be on my way!”

“’Tis a done thing, brightling. In this realm, my word is
final
.”

They were interrupted by the brunette from the hal , now carrying in a tray of food and drink. As she

served two trenchers of some kind of savory stew, she made sure her ample bosom was displayed for

Aidan.

Regin thought of her own barely budding chest. For the first time in her life, she felt lacking.

And mayhap jealous. Ah, but ’twas Regin who sat at the warlord’s table like a woman grown. ’Twas

Regin the stubborn, mad mortal wanted to wed. She cast the wench a smirk.

“No ale for the girl, Birgit,” Aidan said to the woman. “Do we not have milk?”

Regin’s face heated. And al the worse, because she would dearly love some milk.

When Birgit returned with some, Aidan dismissed her so absently that the worst of Regin’s pique was

soothed.

The rich scent of game stew cal ed to her hunger, and she eagerly dug in. The meat melted in her

mouth. Gods, mortals did know how to cook.

“Tel me of your home,” he said, breaking a piece of flatbread for her trencher.

“’Tis a beautiful land of mists,” she said around bites. “Slow and peaceful.” Usual y. Unless Loki

descended upon them, or someone released Fenris, the giant wolf.

“What was your life like?”

Regin swal owed a mouthful of bread. “You truly wish me to … talk?” Most of the time, her sisters bade

her be quiet, serious.

“I am curious about you.”

She shrugged, deciding that she might as wel enjoy this short time with this stubborn, immovable

warlord—because unless he could be made to change his mind, she planned to slip away in the night and

continue her search.

At least now she’d have food in her bel y and likely a stolen horse.

So she regaled him with stories of Valhal a and the sil iness of the demigods. He laughed at al of the

tales, seeming genuinely amused.

At one point, his expression seemed even …
proud,
earning another frown from her. “You do not mind my humor?”

“Not at al . I’ve not laughed like this …” His brows drew together. “I think I’ve never laughed like this.”

“Usual y I exasperate people. And I jest at inappropriate times. Such as during executions. Freya says

’tis my gift and my bane to frustrate others.”

“I like your manner, Reginleit. Life is long without humor.”

She felt like preening in the face of this steely-eyed warrior’s praise—until he added, “We wil suit wel , brightling.”

She sighed. “Stil you believe we wil be together.” Though she sensed that Aidan was an honorable

male, he was misled in this. Wóden would never al ow Regin to wed a mortal berserker.

And the ohal a Aidan sought? She’d only ever heard of one berserker in al of history who’d earned it.

The rest died in battles long before their two hundredth one.

A fact that the cunning Wóden wel knew.

“I am certain we wil , little wife.” Finished with his meal, Aidan rose and crossed to his bed, dividing the furs into two pal ets on opposite wal s. He waved her to one, then took the other. Easing to his side, he

propped his head in his hand. “When you are older you’l come to see that every woman needs a man,

even a Valkyrie.”

“Why?” She plopped down across from him.

“You’l understand when you go through the change.”

“You mean when I become immortal?” When she would change from a growing, vulnerable girl to a nigh

invincible woman. Her sisters spoke of this time in whispers, but Regin didn’t know why. Mayhap this male

would tel her.

“Those months wil be sweet.” He lay on his back, his hands behind his head. In a knowing tone, he

said, “You’l definitely want me around then.”

“Why? What happens?”

“You’l become a woman. And you’l need me as much as I wil surely be needing you.”

“Would you try to kiss me?” she asked slyly.

“Depend on it.”

“And?”

“And now you should go to sleep. We’ve a long journey ahead of us.”

“Warlord, tel me!” She crossed her arms over her chest and lightning struck outside.

He
chuckled
.

“Why should I choose
you
to kiss, then?”

He turned on his side again, his gaze holding hers. “Why
not
me?”

“Al you do is war.”

“True, and I’m damned skil ed at my trade. Which means I’l always be able to protect you. And by the

time you’re grown, I’l have accumulated enough loot to spoil you.”

“You’re not noble or refined.”

He nodded easily. “I possess no refinement. But that also means I’ve no guile—you wil always know

what I’m thinking.”

“And you believe
you
are entitled to a Valkyrie for your bride?”

“I am the most powerful berserker
ever
to live,” he said, not with conceit but as if he merely stated an indisputable fact. “So if not me, then who?”

She shrugged. “I remain unconvinced of your charms, Aidan.” Also an indisputable fact.

“There is another reason. …”

“Tel me.”

His voice gone gruff, he added, “You should choose me because … I wil love you, Reginleit.”

Her heart seemed to skip a beat. “How can you say that? You cannot know the future!”

“I know because, at twelve years of age, you’ve won me with your wit and bravery. Your staunch loyalty,

too.” He leaned back once more, grinning up at the roof of the longhouse. “When you have your wiles

about you, I’l be no match. I concede defeat wel in advance.”

“When I’m grown, others wil vie for my hand.”

“Undoubtedly. But you belong only to me.”

Lightning struck again from her frustration. He truly believed he had the right to take away her freedom,

to keep her as his untouched prize while he continued his debauched lifestyle. Perhaps that was the way

of things with mortals.
But such is not good enough for the likes of me.

“Berserker, hear my words,” she said. “I vow to you that I wil stay as true to you as you do to me.” That would shut his mouth. He couldn’t go a week without a Birgit. “Every wench upon your lap means I sit upon

a warrior’s. Every woman’s mouth you kiss is a man’s lips upon my own.”

His fierce gaze met hers, his eyes ablaze once more—as if the mere thought of her with another sent

his ire spiraling. Seeming to struggle for control, he grated, “Then I give you my oath that I’l not touch another. Now are you satisfied, little wife? Any more demands?”

“I have to go with you to find Lucia.”

“In this I wil not bend, Reginleit. You are vulnerable. You can be harmed. And that I could not abide.”