Viking King (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors, Book 1) (24 page)

Thrown by his response, she said, “Believe it or not, Mom’s choices put her in a worse position than Dad’s. At least he was pulling in a little bit of cash, enough that I could skim off the top and set some aside for my sisters. The deadbeat my Mom ended up with was good for nothing and she wasn’t much better in the earning department.”

Naðr stroked her arm softly and though his words were non-confrontational they set her on edge. “What made you end up loving a life you forced yourself into. What truly made you love boat building, sailing, the ocean?”

Megan didn’t need to give her response a second thought. “The freedom it gave me. There’s nothing like the solidarity of open water. How it listens to you and only speaks back what you need to hear. Being on the ocean afforded me a sense of peace I couldn’t find on land.” She pressed her lips together. “And it gave me a sense of strength, one I needed to stay strong for my sisters.”

Naðr remained silent as she sifted through thoughts before speaking. “Once my youngest sister was old enough to stand on her own two feet, I worked toward educating myself. Worked during the day. School at night. Relentless. Got my G.E.D. then went to college. That’s when I met Nathan.”

“Then everything changed.”

Though she knew he was guessing, he was absolutely right.

“Yes, everything changed. I met someone who challenged me to be better, who set my heart on fire at the same time.” She inhaled deeply and shook her head. “Who knew he’d prove to be the total opposite of what I thought he was.”

“Was he then?” Naðr said softly.

Taken aback, her eyes shot to his. “He cheated on me from the moment we said, “I do,” so yeah, I’d say he pretty much failed hard.”

“Half of what drew me to my former wife, Aesa, was her absolute excellence at everything she did. She pushed me to be better, to rise up and be a better man, one who might rule well my people.” Though sadness was in his eyes so too was something else. “Yet there was always strife between us…unrest. Passion? Yes. Love? Yes. But as a seer, as a free spirit looking for the world to bow down to her, Aesa always saw me as a fisherman’s son born of dragon blood that she was determined to make into a king.”

Megan looked at him for a long minute before she said, “Our circumstances aren’t the same.”

“No,” he said gently. “There was no…cheating? But there was always a distance made of the different ways we looked at life. At our lack of a shared beginning.” Melancholy met his eyes. “And I have missed her so much…until now…until you arrived.”

His words, the look in his eyes, the soothing stroke of his hand on her arm, all swirled within her senses as the gap, one made of over a thousand years, closed between them. Naðr didn’t need to say he loved her. It was right there in his unrelenting gaze. And while there were so many things left to say, there really weren’t any at all when he again pulled her into his arms.

Passion didn’t just flare but was compounded by the few words they’d shared as she rolled over him. There were no longer boundaries of control but freedom in the way she slowly sunk onto him. Their bodies worked in such unison that Megan moaned the whole time, or groaned, or plain old cried, she had no idea.

All she knew for certain was that she was free. The past was gone. The future was here. And she didn’t want to let go of what she’d found. The world faded in and out, dimmed then brightened by the endless, varying sensations he made her feel. Yet he never let go. He made love to her over and over and she climaxed too many times to count, still…he was here.

And always would be.

Startled by the truth, she shot up.

Though dim light flooded the chamber, this time she wasn’t alone.

“Megan,” Naðr murmured, his hand wrapping around hers. “Come back.”

Come back.

It almost felt like those two words were an echo of what was to come. A plea that might soon span over one thousand years. A lifeline…

When she didn’t fall back right away, he pulled her into his arms and tucked her head beneath his chin. “Give me these last few moments with you by my side before I ready for war.”

Megan frowned and ran her hand over his warm chest. “So soon then?”

“Yes. Now that Rennir is confident he won’t be facing three dragons he will come swiftly.”

“With Yrsa,” she whispered and perched up enough that she could meet his eyes. Though she wouldn’t have imagined saying such a thing a week ago now it seemed ridiculous not to. “It seems unfair that they’re coming at you with so much magic when your hands are seemingly tied.”

“We’re warring men,” he said easily. “If magic is used then we will deal with it.”

While his answer frustrated her, Megan knew better than to push it. This was his territory. He knew what he was doing. But it was hard not to say more. Either way, it was soon taken out of her hands when Kjar stuck his head in and nodded at Naðr. After he vanished, Naðr kissed her temple then rolled away.

Megan wasn’t about to lounge in bed when things needed to be done so she got up as well. “I need pants, not a dress.”

Naðr opened the trunk he’d pulled the cylinder from the night before and nodded. “Everything you need is in here.”

Alarmed, she dressed and eyed him as he pulled on pants then a light sleeveless vest of chain mail over his tunic. “Is Rennir coming today then?”

Naðr didn’t answer straight away but slid on his boots. When at last he did give her feedback he was dressed in black, head to toe, much like when she’d met him, yet his expression varied. Though still imposing in a far-too-sexy way, now he was brooding and different. His cobalt eyes were dark and posture tense as he slid the sack that contained the cylinder and stone over her head. Strapped over one shoulder, across her chest and under the opposite arm, she barely felt its slight weight resting against her back.

He looked over her thoroughly before he nodded then took her hands, locking eyes. “It might be this day or the next but Rennir will be on us soon.”

Megan nodded and kept her lips firm. Right now he needed to know she was all right. “I understand.”

Yet it was tough to stay strong when he came close and cupped her cheeks, words soft. “We go to war soon. It is one that you cannot be part of.”

Of course, because she didn’t know how to fight with a weapon. Megan could argue this all day long but knew he was right. In this era, heck, even in her own she knew less than nothing about war. But she’d bet she could learn to use a dagger fast enough with a few instructions. She nodded, determined to appease him. “Sure. I get it.”

“Get it,” he murmured softly, frowning.

But his reservations didn’t much matter when Kjar spat out a few words in Norse that had to be curses. Bad things were happening. Naðr eyed Megan once more then brushed his lips over hers, soft words hovering. “Stay with Meyla.” Then he pulled back just enough to stroke his thumbs over her cheeks and look into her eyes one last time as he whispered, “Come back to me.”

Come back to you? But I’m right here.
The words died on her lips as he spun away and left.

Naðr could admit he’d made a few mistakes since Megan arrived.

The first? He should have focused less on bedding her and more on teaching her to fight. The second? He should have made damn sure she intended to return to him before he lost his heart. But in his defense it had been a long time since he’d had to worry about feeling strongly for a woman. Right now, however, emotions like this would only prove harmful to his focus so he pushed them aside as Kjar updated him.

“The scouts have reported back. Rennir’s making his move. Our men are already in position.”

Though he’d kept bands of warriors on the outskirts of Rennir’s land since he became king, Naðr had his best fighters planning for this attack since they’d returned from their last raid. Well-prepared bands were ready on the outermost vulnerable seaside locations and ships ready to close in. Though his brothers would have preferred meeting Rennir on his own territory, Naðr knew his plan was sound.

“I know it is not what you want to hear, but you should keep Megan by your side,” Kjar said, voice purposefully soft.

They both knew how much Rennir and Yrsa likely wanted her stone. A stone, unfortunately, that she needed to keep with her.

“No.” Naðr shook his head. “She cannot defend herself.”

“But you and your brothers can defend her.”

“We’ll be on the water. I won’t have her in such a vulnerable position.”

Kjar sighed. “Then I will stay here and protect her.”

Naðr’s eyes shot to his cousin. No warrior from here to Valhalla craved being sea bound as much as Kjar. Especially with war coming. Yet with the offer came a much-needed sense of relief. None save him and his brothers were stronger and though it wasn’t talked of often, Kjar had his own brand of magic. So he clapped his cousin on the shoulder and nodded his thanks.

After he spent ample time surveying the battle preparations and speaking with his people, who were more eager than anything, he made his way into the weapon’s holding. Megan’s voice drifted through the open windows as she and Meyla walked by, heading for the entrance that led into the adjoining room.

“I’m surprised Rennir wasn’t already closer and waiting on word from Yrsa so that he could attack while the brothers were still on the mountain,” Megan said.

“My father has men scouting the land just beyond Rennir’s territory,” Meyla informed as they walked into the building. “If there had been movement, my uncles would have stayed here.”

“But not your father? The
king
?”

“You underestimate how much my father cares for you,” Meyla said. “If it had been anybody else, but you or even me, he likely would have stayed.”

“Sweet mother of…” Megan’s words trailed off before renewed awe lit her voice. “Look at all the gorgeous weapons, helmets and round shields.
Unreal
.”

“Though the men keep their own weapons in their holdings, my father has always provided an ample amount of replacements. He doesn’t want his warriors to ever be without a means to defend their families,” Meyla responded.

Bemused, Naðr leaned against the threshold and watched Megan. She appeared to appreciate his weapons almost as much as his ships. Eyes wide, lips parted, she slowly spun, enraptured by the wide variety. Her dog, naturally, kept pace as she limped around her. But it seemed even such a display couldn’t stop her eyes from finding his. Hel, every time she looked at him he experienced a lusty punch to the gut. Yet now it wasn’t just physical but emotional.

And that wasn’t safe during current circumstances.

So instead of pulling her into his arms, he inclined his head toward the daggers as he strapped on a sword. “Pick one out and Meyla will show you the basics of handling it.”

“Actually.” Megan eyed the opposite wall. “While I’ll definitely grab a dagger, I think I might have more luck with those.”

Naðr arched a brow at the bows and arrows. “Have you ever used one?”

“A few archery lessons when I was a kid,” she murmured, looking them over carefully.

Impressed, he watched her take down a bow perfectly suited to her size. “I thought you didn’t know how to use weapons.”

“It’s been a long time.” She grabbed a bag of arrows. “And I’m not about bragging unless there’s something to brag about.”

Naðr strapped on several daggers and led her out the rear door to the archery targets. “I’m heading to the ship soon. Show me what you can do.”

“Nothing like a little pressure,” she muttered despite the confidence she radiated. Her competitive nature flared as she cocked an arrow and narrowed her eyes on the target. Unwavering, focused, she released.

Thwap.
It sunk into the outer edge of the bull’s eye.

“Well, look at that,” Meyla exclaimed, grinning. “It seems you know how to use a weapon after all.”

“I know how to shoot an arrow into a still object.” Megan cocked another arrow, taking less time to focus before she released. This one hit dead center. “A moving object, a living person, now that’s a different story.”

So it seemed the gods had sent him another warrior woman after all. Megan was a natural with a bow and arrow and would likely be just as talented with other weapons. But she was absolutely right about the difference between shooting an arrow for sport versus shooting to kill. However, having such available to her would make both of them feel better.

“Take the bow and arrows with you but don’t use them unless you have no choice.” He strapped them to her back alongside the small sack then pressed the hilt of a dagger into her palm. “Keep this in hand and visible to others at all times.”

“You’re leaving now, aren’t you?” she murmured.

“Yes, Rennir is coming. I’m taking our ship out.”

“Our ship,” she whispered, a ghost of a smile flitted then fell flat as she eyed the darkening skies. “Bad weather is coming. I want to go down to the docks and watch you depart.”

Though tempted to tell her to stay here and use what precious time left to learn how to use the dagger, he understood her need to see the ocean. A seafarer by nature, she’d gauge the wind and water to surmise just how dangerous things would become…even before the battling. Besides, Megan was the sort of woman who would resent him for telling her what to do. So until it was truly a matter of life and death, she’d have her way.

As they headed toward the port, Naðr eyed Meyla. With several weapons strapped to her body and hair braided back, she was every inch her mother. “Are you ready daughter?”

Meyla snorted. “Every moment of every day when it comes to battling.” But there was a miniscule tightening around her lips when her eyes met his. “Will you not reconsider taking Valan with you?”

Naðr would give her a lot but not that. Not yet. “He is not a seaman and needs more training. His strength lies on land.”

“Protecting me no doubt,” she mumbled.

“Damn good place for a husband to be.” Megan glanced at the mountains. “Especially one used to fighting in the Scottish Highlands.”

When Meyla frowned at her lack of support, Megan shrugged. “Sorry, but I’m with your father on this one. Very dangerous. Only those who understand the sea well should be out on it right now. Otherwise, the whole crew would be at risk and I know Valan wouldn’t want that.”

Meyla sighed then offered a relenting nod. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Naðr shot Megan a thankful look. The last thing he needed right now was his daughter upset with him. Not to say he hadn’t grown used to such since Valan arrived. But he’d truly enjoyed reconnecting with her and had no desire to return to how things had been.

The majority of those too young, old or weak to fight were inside the fortress but still the shore and docks teemed with activity. Meyla strolled off but Megan remained by his side as he stopped along the way to speak with several groups of warriors. Naðr was pleased to see how well they were accepting her. Though most kept their silence, he didn’t miss the approving nods they gave her when they saw the bow and arrows and dagger. It was clear in the set of her chin and body posture that she’d use them if necessary.

As they continued down the dock, her frown deepened as she eyed the blackened clouds billowing low over the water. The wind had kicked up and the waters rougher than he would have liked. But what fun was there in calm seas? If it was his time to sit at Odin’s table he’d do so with pride…even if it meant leaving her.

There was that
emotion
again.

“I can see by the look on your face you agree it’ll be damn dangerous out there,” Megan said.

“The wind’s in my favor.”

“The wind is unstable.” Her lips thinned and eyes narrowed on their ship. “It’ll switch on a dime and she won’t like it.”

“Worrying will do you no favors so set it aside and have faith in my abilities,” he said. “I go into this with no fear. You should do the same.”

“Some fear is good. It can save you.”

“Respect. Caution. Remaining alert. These are things that will save me.”

“Isn’t respect born of a little fear?”

“My respect is for the sea and I have no fear of death.” He stopped about a quarter of the way down the dock and turned to her. Something about the look in her eyes made him far more honest than he intended. “But I do have unrest when it comes to saying goodbye to you.”

“Then don’t.” Her voice might be steady but what churned in her gaze wasn’t. “Fight here. Not out there.”

Light rain mixed with sea spray as he brushed his knuckles over her cheek and shook his head. “I can be nowhere else but the last line of defense before shore.”

Megan grimaced, frustrated. “Then break the rules. Embrace the dragon. I don’t care if I get stuck in this era.”

“But I do,” he murmured. “The gods wish that you have a choice and they’re right. And I have no intentions of going back on my promise to the seers.”

Kol had a wild grin on his face as he joined them. “Might be we’ll be dining with Odin and Freyja this night, brother.”

Naðr shook his head, took her hand and continued walking.

“Crazy,” Megan said under her breath. “All of you.”

Kol strolled alongside Megan and tossed a full blown smile her way. “You should join us. I know how much you like my brother’s ship.”

“It will be a wild ride,” Raknar added, a tempered grin on his face as he fell in beside Naðr. “I have never been more eager.”

“She stays with Kjar,” Naðr grumbled.

“I might not be able to fight, but I can row,” she volunteered.

Naðr shot his brothers equally damning looks before shaking his head at Megan. “You will stay here. The conditions on the ship will be treacherous and the strength in rowing for only the strongest.”

He knew as the words left his mouth that she wouldn’t receive them well.

“So you’re back to ordering me around.”

“I’m back to keeping you as safe as I can.”

“He’s right.” Raknar nodded.

“But not for the reasons he’s giving,” Kol offered. “He doesn’t want you with us because you would be a distraction.”

Raknar nodded. “Not only for the men but for him.”

“And that would not be good,” Kjar said from behind.

Megan glanced from brother to brother before her eyes settled on Naðr. “Is that true? Would a woman truly distract you from captaining a ship?”

Naðr scowled. “No.”

Kol grinned at Megan. “See, you’re already distracting him from being truthful.”

Raknar intercepted his son before he could run by and crouched in front of him. “Take Megan’s wolf up away from the battle. Keep her safe.”

Though happy enough to see Guardian, Heidrek was crestfallen. “B-but I want to f-fight.”

“And you
will
, son. Next time.” Raknar cupped the back of his head. “For now, I need you to do this for me, yes?”

The sun rose and fell around his father so though eager for battle, Heidrek nodded and stood up a little straighter. “Y-yes. I will d-do this for you.”

Naðr knew his brother would try to keep Heidrek as far away from Yrsa as possible.

Raknar nodded, kissed his son’s forehead then pulled him into an embrace. “I love you.”

“I l-love you too.”

Meanwhile, Megan ruffled Guardian’s head and kissed her on the muzzle. “Be good, wolfy girl.”

Then Heidrek and Guardian were off down the dock.

Megan thanked Raknar and was about to say something more but the words died on her lips as they approached the ship’s prow. She stopped walking and whispered, “Holy crap.”

They all looked from her to the ship.

“What is it?” Naðr asked.

Wide-eyed, she walked alongside the boat. “These Nordic symbols carved into the hull weren’t here before.”

“Kjar has been working on them,” Naðr said with pride.

They were all taken aback when she swung on them, truly upset as her eyes whipped to Kjar. “Why would you do this? I don’t understand.”

“To protect the ship during battle.”