Siren Slave (25 page)

“What’s wrong with you?” Hedwig said. “These sailors need some serious bathing.” She was gagging.

“Go above if you want. Can you move the waves and get the boat out of here? Just get it to the rock where Morrigan and the others are? Give me some water before you go. Oh, wait. Here’s something for you.” Freya tapped a bloodstained shoe on a splintered crate of bottled wine. Some of it was white. “Your share of the booty. I feel all pirate-y saying that.”

“When these men get cleaned up, I’ll get the rest of my share,” Hedwig said. “Aah. Wonderful. This is some good wine right here.” She grabbed a bottle, then another and another, thrusting them into her satchel.

Hedwig tossed her a vial of water and quit the hold. Freya poured some water into her palm and watched as it formed a perfect key. She added swan wings to the top. It was easy, just concentrating on forcing the water to cling together until it became solid, all except for the bottom.

“What happened? Who are you?” One man was trying to squint at her though eyes that were swollen shut.

“She’s a goddess, some death goddess,” a Germanic man said. “She’s covered in blood and armored.
Valkyr.”
The word meant “chooser of the slain.”

“Um, I’m just Freya, former Remi princess. Now River Queen and slave of your captain. Here to rescue you, not kill you or take you to some creepy underworld.” She knelt and began unlocking the fetters.

****

Siegfried was growing uneasy. He had pressed several times about supplies needed, but his list still remained remarkably short, being primarily dominated by booze. It had taken a few months of preparation to capture Etainen and assume his place. He’d had to lay low, not wanting anyone to know of his plans. Some thought he’d abandoned them.

He was having second thoughts about leaving Freya on her own, even if she had agreed. More so when he felt a sharp pang of sorrow and shame that was not his own. He didn’t really trust Idunn. But Freya had wanted time away from him. She’d said he overwhelmed her.

“How do you have all of your supplies?” Siegfried asked, deciding to be blunt. Freya must be thinking about her family. “I feel as if I’m wasting your time.”

“We found others to help during your absence,” Vercingetorix said.

He was going to question this further, but he was suddenly assailed by excitement not his own. It was overpowering. Adrenaline raced through him. Freya’s. There was glee there, too.

He rose, not hearing any sounds of trouble. Lightning flashed in the distance. Clouds had gathered, but only in one area. He dug inside his pouch. The key was gone. How had she…? He thought about taking control of her powers, but didn’t dare. What if she were in trouble? But she’d intended to cause trouble, hadn’t she, if she’d taken the key? No, he wouldn’t risk her, not until he knew the situation.

“Siegfried, where are you going?” Vercingetorix asked as Siegfried turned away.

“To piss.” Siegfried stalked off. He looked over his shoulder to see he was being followed. What was going on here?

No, he would not interfere with whatever Freya was doing. But he had to lose his pursuers and get to the river. He couldn’t see any of them, but he wouldn’t be pursued by spear and shield-clanging clods either. No, he’d be chased by the light-footed trackers.

****

“Freya,” Hedwig shouted from aboveboard, her words slurred from wine.

In the galley or whatever it was called, Freya set down the last of the prisoners from the stinking hold, propping him against the wall. “Is there another problem? I thought we had the boat secure.”

“Ship. Not boat,” the man said. His side bore an infected wound, greening and blackening around the edges. Those could very well be his last words. Why would someone waste their last words on that? To Freya, everything that floated on water was a boat, unless it was kelp or a dead fish or something.

“Get your armored ass up here,” Hedwig insisted.

When Freya arrived on deck, she saw a large Roman boat, a trireme. The oars jutted out from the sides like a many-legged insect. It definitely fit the Leg Rule and reminded her well enough of a centipede.

“I can get one of the sea beasts to chomp it,” Hedwig said. “But there are people rowing that boat.”

“I’ve got this,” Freya said. “After I take care of this, I’m going to need you to guard the boat and save any drowning men from the water. I’m going to run back and get Siegfried.” She’d known all along he wouldn’t leave his boat or his men. If it was just her, she wouldn’t have to worry about him getting hurt.

She flew up top, to the crow’s nest. Right now, it was a Swan’s nest. She laughed at the thought as she stood atop it, trident held before her. The trireme was carefully navigating its way along the rocky expanse of the river. This probably required a lot of concentration. All she had to do was break that concentration.

She called upon the wind to carry her voice and began to sing happily, “I know a dragon that lives by the sunny stream. It ripples and gurgles like a pleasant dream. The little dragon goes…” And she tipped her head back, roaring into the storm, rain sluicing over her body.

****

Siegfried was still being followed. There were more of them, at least he thought so from the too frequent cracking of branches, but he was nearing the river now. He was agile on his feet, leaping over tree roots, dancing around trunks.

He was almost bowled over by a head butt to his shoulder. A white head, devoid of a horn this time, but he recognized the arrogant tilt of the equine head, the fluid, regal movements. In Enbarr’s mouth was his bow.

With a grimace, he grabbed his weapon and leapt onto Enbarr’s back. The Averni could have fun trying to keep up with Enbarr. Siegfried clutched the mane, leaning over the gracefully arched neck as they flowed through the wood. That was the best way to describe it—flowing. Moonlight lit a path. Enbarr momentarily paused to let the humans catch up, reared onto hind legs, executed a leap no human horse could manage, then accelerated again.

Siegfried winced when he heard the words of S
unny Stream.
He’d never heard the song screeched so loudly. It blared from the sky itself, followed by an earth-shaking roar. Wood splintered. There were screams, then dolphin-like laughter.

He wondered how Enbarr could navigate through the suddenly thick mists. Then they stopped on a ledge. An extra quiver of arrows, and a coil of rope waited there for Siegfried. Down below…was his ship. A trireme, stuck up against a rock was further upriver.

Siegfried leapt from Enbarr’s back. He tied one end of the rope to a tree, the other to an arrow. He fitted two arrows to his bow and fired. His shot was true. The arrows landed in the middle of the deck of his ship. What the hell was his ship doing here?

He grabbed hold of the rope with both hands and swung off the ledge. A few moments later, he landed before Hedwig aboard the
River Queen.

“What is happening?” he demanded of the Sea Witch. “Why are you here? On my ship? Where is Freya?” The decks were covered in carnage, entrails, decapitated bodies. The wood was slick with blood that appeared black in the lightning. This scene asked too many questions.

As if in answer to many of those questions a flutter of wings swished above him. Siegfried stopped breathing. A wild battle goddess landed before him, surrounded in a purple glow. Her hair was pushed back from her face by the winged band, streaked with blood. Bits of gore clung to her wings. He could not read her expression. Her eyes were consumed entirely by the purple light.

When she saw him, the light disappeared. She stood before him, her wings dissipating. Suddenly, she looked exhausted. “Boat’s back.”

She tumbled backward and he caught her. “Did she…do all of this?”

“It’s fine,” Hedwig said. “I came to take her out for a little, thought she needed some fun. Uh, you did want this back, didn’t you? That Murk-dick man with the yellow teeth had it.”

He looked at the bodies, dressed in the garb of Averni, Remi, and Romans. But behind them was the Roman ship, oars jutting out at odd angles.

“I have to go get those men to safety,” Hedwig said with a nod to the trireme. “The chained ones who were rowing it. I’m going to have to give a lot of magic kisses to keep them alive. Wish she hadn’t passed out like that. Could’ve used her help with unlocking them. She’s such a novice at this.”

“Was this all Freya?”

“And her trident,” Hedwig said. “I gave her that trident. I made the armor. I expect a ‘thank you, Sea Bitch’ from you, as well.”

The trident was clutched in Freya’s hand. He tried to pull it away, but she would not release it. That was when he noticed that some of the blood was her own. She’d been cut, rather deeply in some places. “You might have made the armor cover something.” He tore his tunic off and laid her on his cape.

“How hard is it to not get stabbed in the tits?” She rolled her eyes. “I have seawater bandages. I’ll leave them for you. They’ll prevent infection and scarring. I’d better go see to those men.”

Siegfried felt no joy. He had failed to protect Freya again. She’d kept the words of her pledge, submitted to everything, and he couldn’t even keep her from harm. But where was Idunn? Why hadn’t he been told that Freya had run off? Had Freya killed Idunn? Or had someone planned to kill or capture Freya?

“M-Master,” she murmured. Her eyes opened. “Your crew’s below. Unchained them. We have to get out of here. Help me up, and I’ll keep moving the boat downriver.”

“What happened here?” He wrapped a bandage around the particularly nasty wound across the top of her breasts. The shimmering blue bandages clung to the skin and seemed to seep into the wound.

Freya hissed in pain. She took a few deep breaths before speaking. “Your men were beaten pretty bloody. The hold needs a scrub. Guess the decks do, too. Sort of made a big mess. But not the one in the hold. I think your men were there for a little while, to put it nicely. I was going to come back for you after we got done here. Was planning to fly over and swoop down.”

Her eyes closed for a few moments then opened again when Siegfried placed the next bandage. Burn marks etched alongside the cuts; human metal was cruel to fey flesh.

“How do you feel?”

“Tired. Content. Worried.”

That’s what he’d been feeling from her, but it was confusing. Content and worried?

“I know it’s weird. I enjoyed fighting these people. Wouldn’t have killed them if they hadn’t kept trying to kill us.”

He took a deep breath. She’d gotten his ship back for him.

Her eyes closed again. She dropped the trident, and her hand rested on his knee. Her wings and armor were gone. She was naked, save for the bandages. He continued to treat her. Maybe Hedwig would return and assist him in treating his men.

Booted feet landed on the deck beside them. He looked up to see a very familiar face, yellow teeth glinting in the moonlight. The Murk-dick Hedwig mentioned…Merrick? Damn, he had not removed the arrow with the rope from the deck.

“So, she’s still alive,” Merrick said as Siegfried wrapped Freya in his cape, concealing her from Merrick’s view. “We thought she’d drowned herself to get away from you. I suggest you anchor here and the two of you come with me.” He already had a dagger pointed at Siegfried. “I’d enjoy hearing how my men came to be decimated like this.”

“And I would like to know why a trireme was following my ship,” Siegfried said, setting Freya behind him.

Chapter Eight

Freya struggled again to remain conscious. She could hear Siegfried’s voice and Merrick’s. He needed her, but she had no strength left to fight. She pinched her thigh until her eyes snapped open, then pinched herself again.

It was still night. She hadn’t been unconscious that long. Siegfried’s cape and his arms protected her from the chill. His grip was tight, comforting, and tense.

“Oh, hello, Merrick,” she said. “Did you come to help Master find me?”

“How are you alive?” Merrick asked.

“Got caught in an undertow,” Freya said. “I don’t remember much, only a woman singing badly and waking up with Master taking care of me.” She pinched herself a few more times. “Master, your old friend said he was looking for you. Isn’t that nice?”

“A strange woman singing, dead bodies here for no reason,” Siegfried said. “This is an ill-omen. A siren, perhaps? Some witchery?”

“What kind of woman could kill all these men?” Merrick said. “Your crew is entirely decimated.”

“I’m frightened,” Freya said. “What if it’s Nerthus, the Sea Witch? We should leave the boat to her and get back to camp.”

So Merrick wasn’t going to take the blame for taking Siegfried’s ship? He was going to pretend that some supernatural thing had killed Siegfried’s men? The bodies on deck weren’t even Siegfried’s crew.

“You have a weird obsession with Nerthus, wench. And, Siegfried, there’s a rowboat along the side of the vessel,” Merrick said as mist began to roll in very quickly. This had to be Hedwig’s doing, trying to get the trireme’s oarsmen to safety. But the only real safety was on this boat. There was no way Merrick was going to leave Siegfried free, and Freya couldn’t fight now.

More men used the rope Siegfried had used to come aboard and instantly began making hand motions against evil. Despite their efforts, tendrils of mist still crept over the rails of the vessel.

“Take them,” Merrick snapped. “I don’t care what you have to do. Get them off of this ship.” More blades were drawn on Siegfried and Freya.

Why didn’t Merrick seem afraid of the mists? She clung tighter to Siegfried.

“The hell kind of weapon is this?” One of the men said, approaching the couple, his gaze on the trident. Freya grabbed it first. Using what little strength she had, she tossed the weapon into the water. Hedwig would get it.

****

Siegfried needed to have a talk with Freya, find out what was going on in her head. He could feel her fear as he sat with her at the main campfire. He kept the cape closed around her. What now? If he played dumb like she was, they might be able to get out of this alive.

“What the hell happened?” Vercingetorix asked, looking from Merrick to Siegfried and Freya.