Viking Claim (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors Book 2) (6 page)

She totally got that. Regardless. Veronica worried about how her arrival might affect Megan. “My sister shouldn’t need to stress over all this.”

“Your sister married my king,” Kjar informed. “Now she must worry as he does. It is what a queen does.”

Queen.
Megan. That was a mouthful. But heck, her big sis had always been a queen in her book. “It’s a lot to take on.”

Kjar nodded. “It is.”

The Viking didn’t say another word until they reached the end of the dock. On one side was the massive longship she knew Megan and Naðr called theirs. The one that had apparently brought them together. But her eyes were drawn to the smaller boat on the other side. The Drekkar. She was less impressed with the stark, clean lines of the longer ship but more so with the painstaking detail in workmanship on the prow of her ship.

Veronica closed her eyes and shook her head.

The last thing she needed to do was relate the ship Raknar sailed as
her
ship. She knew how
that
went. Viking ship love plus modern day woman tended to mean marriage.

“Come.”

When her eyes snapped open, Kjar stood on the edge of the Drekkar holding his hand down.

She shook her head. “Not such a good idea returning to the scene of the crime.”

Kjar cocked his head. “There is no crime here, woman.” He curled his fingers. “Only good memories.”

Good memories? Seeing Raknar’s nude torso for this first time on this ship flashed in her mind. Okay, so that wasn’t
such
a bad memory. Relenting, Veronica climbed the ladder and took Kjar’s hand. She almost lost her footing, but he scooped her up then set her down. Guardian sat, tongue hanging out of her mouth as she watched.

Three-quarters full, the moon peeked out behind a curling cloudbank as she walked a few steps then turned to look up at the prow. The dragon head was so well carved that it almost appeared to rear its head beneath the moonlight. Smiling, she walked to the mast and leaned against it, again in awe of the stunning view.

Kjar handed her a mug and stood alongside.

Silence stretched cut only by the lapping of water against the boat.

“It’s all so beautiful,” she whispered.

Kjar held up his mug.

She tapped it.

They both drank.

Minutes passed as she sipped and enjoyed not only the gentle sway but the calm offered by the moon and a ship that shouldn’t even exist. Eventually she murmured, “You built this, didn’t you?”

“I did.” He stroked one of the braids in his goatee as he stared at the prow. “Though she’s not quite perfect.”

The corner of her lips curled up. “Looks pretty perfect to me.”

Kjar shook his head. “Not yet.”

“What else needs to be done to it?”

“Time will tell.”

Odd answer. Veronica frowned at him, opting for logic. “More benches maybe? Seems to have enough though.”

“Plenty of benches,” he drawled. “Not enough soul.”

Veronica shrugged. Okay. She’d chalk his opinion up to creative prerogative. After all, Megan had been a perfectionist when it came to building her boat so she assumed that must be Kjar’s deal as well. Like Amber, they were artists in their own way.

He nodded at her mug. “Drink.”

Woozy enough from the earlier mead, she shook her head and handed him the mug. “I’ve had enough. Thanks.”

Kjar eyed her for a long moment before he nodded. “You prefer safety. Control.”

She leaned heavily against the mast and eyed the moon. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

Kjar shrugged, set aside their mugs and munched on some nuts. “Why don’t we call it a need for clarity?”

Veronica yawned and nodded. “Yeah, clarity sounds good.”

“So you think my ship is well made. What think you of my cousins Kol and Raknar?”

Just as well-made. But that wasn’t what he was asking. Overly drowsy but trying to stay with him, she shrugged. “Honestly? I’m not ready to think much about either of them.”

Kjar sat and pulled her down next to him so that their backs rested against the mast.

The seas were fairly calm and the rock of the ship slight.

He chomped his next question around a nut. “If you had to choose would it be Kol or Raknar?”

“I don’t have to choose.”

“If you did.”

“But I don’t.”

Kjar crossed his long legs over one another and sighed. “Kol’s the easier choice.”

Veronica couldn’t help it…she laughed.

“What?” Kjar grinned at her. “It’s true.”

Veronica eyed the tattoos wrapping over his head and down his arm. “Not sure you’re the one to give advice on who may or may not be easiest.”

He spit out shells before his heavily muscled arm shifted as he popped more nuts into his mouth, a look of pure confusion on his face. “Don’t let my appearance fool you, woman.”

Grinning, her head fell to his shoulder as she watched the clouds roll past the moon. “I know about this whole pact made with the seers. Three Viking brothers meant to be with women from the future.” Veronica made quotation marks in the air. “Of the same ‘bloodline.’” She shook her head and shot him her best ‘I’m sorry’ look. “Not happening this time.”

Kjar wrapped his arm around her shoulders so that she could more comfortably rest her cheek before he murmured, “Then no Kol, no Raknar.” He flicked his hand toward the prow. “Just this. A ship. Comfort.”

That sounded good.

Amazing.

Perfect.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Lulled by the gentle sway of the ship, her eyes slid shut.

“Veronica, are you awake?”

She blinked, confused when she heard Megan’s voice. It was light out and she was back in bed, Guardian curled by her side. Veronica sat up slowly. “What happened? I was just on the ship with Kjar a second ago.”

“You fell asleep so he carried you back,” Megan informed as she sat next to her. “Now it’s morning…almost noon actually.”

“Wow, I must’ve been out cold,” she murmured and frowned.

Megan looked at her, concerned. “You need to gain your strength. It’s been a rough week.” Then she held out her hand. “This was found in your pants before they were cleaned. Thank God it was returned.”

Veronica’s eyes widened as she took it. She’d completely forgotten about the object she’d felt in her pocket. It was a small sealed cylinder with little Norse symbols running up and down its length.

“What is this?” she asked, studying it.

Megan pressed her lips together. “I think you know. Well, as much as you can right now. You remember the cylinder I found under the Atlantic. The one that contained a means for me to return here from the future if I wanted to.” Her sister gave her a pointed look. “The gods provided this. A means to give you free will as to whether or not you ultimately return once you go home.”

Veronica bent her knees and braced her forehead in her palm, mumbling, “I really
am
meant to be here.”

“Sorry, Sis, there can be no doubt,” Megan said. “Now that you have that.”

She swallowed and looked at her sister. “So that means I’m part of the pact the brothers made with the seers…that I’m meant for one of
them
.”

Megan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and nodded. “I’d say so. But it’s not as bad as all that. Kol and Raknar are both great guys. You’ll see once you get to know them.”

“I believe it about Kol,” she muttered.

Megan eyed her, a little light in her eyes. “Yeah, you do seem drawn to the more difficult of the two but no worries. Once you get past his sometimes off-putting disposition, few if any men are as honorable and genuinely caring as Raknar.”

Veronica sighed. There might be a nugget of truth to that. After all, she saw how he was with his son. The minute she thought of Heidrek, old memories threatened to surface. Megan eyed her but said nothing. She wouldn’t be surprised if her sister followed her thoughts.

“I still don’t entirely get how I traveled back in time to begin with,” Veronica mumbled.

“Obviously something to do with those ravens.” Megan squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”

Veronica shook her head. “I’m not sure it’ll matter so much in the end.” Genuine pain met her words. “The thought of leaving you breaks my heart but I can’t ultimately live here. I don’t belong.”

A wistful glint flickered through Megan's eyes. “One thing at a time. Let’s not stress over any of that right now. I only woke you because the Thing will be starting soon and I know you wanted to attend.” Megan brushed Veronica’s long bangs out of her eyes, voice tender. “But there will be others. Why don’t you get some more sleep?”

She shook her head. “No, I want to go. Besides, I’ve yet to step outside during the day.”

Megan nodded and stood. “I had a basin of warm water brought in and more dresses and tunics made for you.” She held out a thin, leather strap with a delicate pouch attached. “The cylinder and stones will fit in this. You
have
to wear it around your neck at all times in case you end up back in the future.”

Right, because she needed the cylinder to return to ninth century Scandanavia.

Veronica took the pouch. “So I can’t look inside the cylinder?”

Megan shook her head. “Nope. Not until you’re home.”

Well, at least she had the certainty of knowing she’d be returning to the twenty-first century.

So, after a bath and being pampered by strangers, she pulled the necklace over her head and tucked the pouch into her cleavage. The odd clothing still threw her and she said as much when Megan returned. “Thanks for having dresses made for me, but I’ve always been more of a pants kind of girl. Or skirts.” She fingered the material. “Or any sort of dress but this.”

She nodded at Megan’s outfit. “You’ll need to hook me up with some of those leather pants.”

Megan grinned. “Already working on it.” Then she shook her head and laughed. “Not sure Raknar and Kol would survive it though.”

Veronica waved away her words. “Then they can look in the opposite direction.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what they’ll be doing,” Megan muttered. Then her eyes sparkled. “You’re here at a pretty cool time. The festival of Walpurgis starts tonight and ends nine days from now on Walpurgisnacht.”

  When Veronica frowned in question, Megan continued. “It’s a holiday that honors AllFather's self-sacrifice upon the World Tree Yggdrasil. Apparently, it was on the ninth night or April thirtieth in our time, Walpurgisnacht, that he beheld the Runes, grasped them, and ritually died for an instant. When he did, all the light in the nine worlds was extinguished, and utter Chaos reigned. At the final stroke of midnight, the light returned in brilliance. Then the bale-fires are lit. On Walpurgisnacht, the dead have full sway upon the earth. It’s also the ending night of the Wild Hunt. May first is the festival of Thrimilci, the beginning of Summer. Thrimilci is a festival of joy and fertility.”

“Fertility, huh? Good thing I’m on birth control,” Veronica joked then cringed at her own lighthearted insinuation. “But interesting information.”

Megan nodded, a smirk ghosting her face. “After the Thing we’ll shop a little and see if we can get you all fashioned up for tonight.”

“That’d be wonderful.”

Anything to lose the long, draping dresses.

“Come on then.” Megan pulled her out of the cottage. “Time to show my lawyer sister Viking justice.”

Seeing things at night was nothing like seeing them during the day. Impressed, Veronica stared up at the towering mountains behind the massive village, entranced by the fog-like clouds sweeping down them. Then her eyes were drawn to the buildings with their long slanted roofs that nearly touched the ground. The community was busy and as far as she could tell, thriving.

When they entered the largest building, the one she’d been in the night before, throngs of people lined the outer edges. The head table had been removed and Naðr now sat on a slightly raised dais. His brothers stood off to either side. All three wore fur cloaks and seemed relatively serious. But that didn’t stop Kol and Raknar’s eyes from finding her the moment she and Megan entered.

Megan shook her head and whispered, “Just ignore them.”

Easier said than done. Especially when her eyes were caught by Raknar’s. Damn if the air didn’t sizzle between them despite the distance. 

“Six sheep and ten chickens were supposed to be part of my wife’s dowry, but her father Egil Aldafadr has yet to give them to us,” declared one of the two men standing before the king.

Naðr looked at the other, older man. “Is this true, Egil Aldafadr?”

The man lowered his head. “Yes, my king.”

“See there!” the younger man said.

Naðr remained focused on the older man. “Why have you not provided the entirety of your daughter’s promised dowry, Egil Aldafadr?”

"Because it would leave my family without enough to eat.”

“Then why commit to something you did not have?”

The older man’s shoulders slumped. “Because my daughter was in love with her new husband and there was nothing I would not do to fulfill her heart’s desire.”

Naðr contemplated him before his eyes swung to the younger man. “Gardar Jolnir, have you received the majority of the dowry and if so, what was it?”

Surprisingly defensive, Gardar said, “We haggled as we should have over the dowry—”

“What have you received so far,” Naðr interrupted.

Veronica didn’t know much about this society and its wealth but the long list of animals and food items the younger man started reciting seemed like a lot even to her. It appeared she wasn’t off because Naðr’s eyes narrowed and he put up a hand to halt Gardar. “This dowry is fit for a king’s daughter.” His eyes widened at Meyla, who stood off to the side of the crowd. “No, it’s more than my daughter received in her dowry!”

Many murmured their agreement and cast a sympathetic look at the older man.

Naðr’s eyes landed heavily on the younger man. “You took advantage of a man’s love for his daughter when you should have been more focused on how you could best provide for her.” His eyes went to the older man. “And you were fool enough to give your word in a binding agreement.”

He eyed both for a long moment before he spoke to the younger man. “Because you behaved with dishonor, you will only receive half of what Egil Aldafadr still owes you. So three sheep and five chickens.”

Though it seemed he might argue, the younger man nodded then lowered his head when Naðr’s eyes once more narrowed.

Then the king’s gaze swung to the older man. “Egil Aldafadr, you gave your word and will honor it…six fortnights from now.”

Another round of murmured approval rippled through the crowd.

The older man’s shoulders slumped with apparent relief. “Thank you, my king.”

Though Veronica wasn’t a fan of a law system that gave one man all the power to make decisions, she quickly concluded that Naðr Véurr was surprisingly fair. If one thing proved true over the next hour, his decisions were always in favor of the families in his kingdom never going without food.

“God, he’s hot,” Megan murmured, eyes locked on Naðr as the Thing ended. Tables were returned to their original positions and food and drinks were brought out.

Veronica grinned. “Who knew you’d get turned on by a man laying down the law?”

“Everything he does...” Megan fanned her face. “Makes me want to rip his clothes off.” She took Veronica’s hand. “C’mon. Let’s go grab a bite.”

For the first time since she arrived the idea of food didn’t sound too bad. Unlike the night before they didn’t all sit on one side of the table facing the room but on both sides. Then again, it seemed there wasn’t any sort of celebration going on right now. Just lunch.

“Sit across from me." Megan leaned close. “That’ll give you a break from sitting beside the brothers.”

While grateful, Veronica wasn’t sure sitting across from Kol and Raknar was that much better. Thankfully, Kjar plunked down next to her. Meyla and Valan on her other side.

Naðr’s daughter grinned at her. “We didn’t get a proper introduction last night. I’m Meyla.”

Veronica nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

“And I’m Valan,” the handsome Scotsman said with a smile.

She offered a smile in return. “Hi, Valan.”

“Hello, Veronica,” Kol said, a never-ending grin on his face. “Sorry we didn’t see you again last night. Did you sleep well?”

“I did. Thank you.” She tried not to blush when she looked at Kjar. “Sorry I crashed. Thanks for getting me to bed.”

“Crashed?” Kjar shook his head and winked. “You never crashed against anything but you did fall asleep.”

She quirked her lip and looked skyward before taking a small sip of mead.

“Did you enjoy the Thing, Veronica?”

The way Raknar said her name, as though he liked the taste of it on his tongue, made her skin tingle with awareness. She met his eyes. “I did actually.”

Her eyes went to the king. “Impressive.”

Naðr nodded his thanks but was far too caught up in murmuring in Megan’s eager ear. Their body language made it obvious they’d much rather be in bed. Her sister had never acted this lusty with her ex-husband, Nathan. She wished Amber could see this. She’d never believe it. Thinking of her little sister brought a twinge of unease and worry. It had been hard enough losing Megan…but now her too? If she didn’t know Sean was there, Veronica would be searching desperately for a way to get home rather than sipping mead with the locals.

Rather than trying hard to avoid Raknar’s eyes.

Because that’s what everything was narrowing down to as she munched on some sort of flaky, white fish. Though tasty, it was bland enough not to upset her stomach. While everyone chatted, for the most part, she and Raknar remained silent. Like last night, she got the distinct impression that he would rather speak with her when fewer people were around. That he wanted the words they shared to be theirs and theirs alone.

Too many times their eyes connected then moved away from one another’s. She’d catch him staring on occasion but sensed he was as opposed to their connection as she was. So Veronica was thrown for a loop when he looked at her and a warm smile broke over his face. The man had an
amazing
smile, one that froze her with a cup of mead halfway to her lips. She had to wonder how these brothers had such straight white teeth. It didn’t make much sense considering what had to be inferior dental hygiene in this day and age.

It turned out the smile wasn’t for her. His son had appeared behind her.

“Heidrek.” He nodded at the table. “Sit. Eat.”

“N-no thank y-you, father. I a-already ate.”

Veronica sipped then set aside her mug. She’d had enough to eat and was genuinely eager to spend some time with the boy. Not to mention, escaping wouldn’t be so bad either. “Heidrek, any chance you’d like to show me around now?”

He nodded avidly. “Y-yes, V-Veronica.”

“Excellent.” She stood and waved at the rest. “I’m off.” Then she looked at her sister. “Find me when you’re ready to shop?”

Megan grinned. “You got it, Sis.”

Veronica smiled when Heidrek took her hand and led her out. He reminded her a lot of his father. A small, less intense version that is.

He proceeded to take her on a very thorough tour of the kitchen, stables, the weapons holding, then straight down to the shore. All the while, Guardian trotted alongside and she couldn’t help but notice that when he talked to the dog, which was often, his stutter vanished.

She debated talking to him about it as they made their way down a dock lined with fishing vessels. Near the end, he stopped and said with pride, “T-this one is m-mine.”

“Is it?” she asked, sure to look impressed as she eyed the small fishing boat. “Can we sit in it?”

“Y-yes,” he said, excited.

When she went to get in, he shook his head and jumped in before her. Then he turned, braced his legs and held out his hand. “M-my l-lady.”

What a little gentleman. She thought as much when he kissed the back of her hand last night and wondered where he’d picked up the gesture. Certainly not from his father and uncles.

Veronica took his hand, stepped down and sat next to him.

Guardian seemed content to sit on the dock, smiling into the wind.

Veronica and Heidrek chatted about various things, mostly fishing, before she finally said, “Can I tell you a secret?”

Heidrek’s eyes grew wide and he nodded. “Y-yes. I’d l-like that.”

“Well,” she said softly and touched her lips. “When I was your age, I didn’t speak at all.”

His little brows lowered in confusion. “W-why not?”

“Because I was afraid to.” Veronica stared out over the churning water. “Because something happened that upset me.”

“I’m s-so sorry,” Heidrek whispered.

“It’s okay.” She squeezed his hand. “I just wanted to share that with you.”

“H-how long did you n-not speak?”

She eyed him. “Oh, for quite a while.”

Then she turned her gaze back to the sea and waited. Veronica had talked to Megan and knew Heidrek had developed his stutter after Raknar’s evil ex-wife and now sworn enemy, Yrsa, had left them.

And Veronica’s story wasn’t all that different save it lacked genuine evil. In her case it had been because her mother left her father after she found out he’d cheated on her. Even so, the arguments and separation had done a number on her. The traumatic aftershocks left her with speech issues.

“I s-stopped talking t-too for a-awhile,” Heidrek said softly.

She figured as much. Though she certainly wouldn’t ask him why, she would relate and try not to embarrass him. But someone needed to help him heal. So she took his hand and met his eyes with kindness. “When I did start talking again it was a long time before I could say my words like I meant to.”

“L-like you m-meant to?”

Veronica nodded and cupped his cheek. “Do you have trouble saying your words like you mean to sometimes?” Before he could respond, she looked at Guardian then back at him. “The only time I spoke my words the way I meant them was to my animals.”

“Oh,” he trailed, looking from Guardian to her before he lowered his head.

Veronica gripped his chin gently and made him look at her. “You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of Heidrek. You’re a strong, handsome warrior. I just wanted you to know that you’re not alone. I’m just like you.” She smiled. “Which makes us pretty great, by the way.”

Her heart about broke in two when he bravely blinked away tears and whispered, “I t-try so h-hard to say t-things right the f-first time.”

“I know you do. I did too.” She stroked his cheek. “And you’re doing really well.”

Veronica pulled away and straightened. Now was the time to show strength. “And I did well too. Better and better as time went on.” She slanted a look at him. “Do you want to know how?”

He sat up straighter as well, notched his chin in defiance and nodded. “Y-yes.”

She hitched up the corner of her lip. “Are you sure? It might sound silly.”

Again he nodded, a little smile on his face. “Y-you could n-never be s-silly.”

“Sure I could. And was.” She knocked shoulders with him, smiling. “But it worked.”

His beautiful light blue eyes watched her expectantly, waiting.

So she continued. “Well, I started pretending I was talking to my animals when I spoke with people.”

Heidrek chuckled. “Y-you did n-not.”

“I did!” she admonished. “All the time.”

“And did it w-work?”

“It sure did.” She shrugged. “Not right away. A little bit at a time. But it worked and eventually every word I said came out like I meant it.”

Heidrek nodded and turned his eyes to the ocean, contemplating, before they swung back to her. “W-why did it w-work?”

Again she shrugged. “I think because some of the stuff that had happened to me made people seem more frightening but I was never afraid of animals so speaking with them was very easy. Does that make sense?”

Heidrek considered her for a long moment before he at last nodded. “Y-yes, maybe it d-does.”

Veronica nodded. “Good.”

Then, determined not to overwhelm the boy, she turned the conversation to simpler things. His favorite foods, what he loved most about fishing, anything to lighten what might have been too difficult for his young mind. By the time they made it back to the village it was safe to say they’d become fast friends.