Page 24 of The Last Valkyrie (Vikingrune Academy #4)

Chapter 24

Ravinica

AS WE LANDED ON THE shores of Selby Village, cutting through the final fjord that led into the peninsula, I managed to calm my speeding mind and heart. No, I thought. That’s impossible. I’m being stupid. If Sigmund is my father, where are his half-pointy ears? His silver hair? How can he be the “dragonslayer”—a man trying to eradicate the world of Azerot the Wrathseeker’s descendants—if he’s dragonkin himself? It makes no sense.

Even though the logic wasn’t there, the mere thought of it brought bile burning up my throat. I pushed the dismaying notion aside as the Gray Wraith struck landfall, bottoming out on the shoreline.

Within minutes, the ten of us had disembarked and began wading through the frigid knee-high waters toward the outcropping of longhouses and structures in the distance.

Gothi Sigmund led the way, but I wouldn’t let him get too far ahead, hurrying to keep pace with the chieftain. Thane Canute was never more than three feet from him.

An elderly fisherman I recognized lifted his head from the bank and let out a squeal of shock at seeing ten burly figures headed his way. I imagined we looked like Vikings of old storming an English bank through the fog, ready to lay waste to their pristine monastery.

The fisherman went running off toward town, undoubtedly to alert people to our presence.

Minutes later, as we neared Selby Village, I could hear the low thrum of conversation and surprised shouting rising up from the villagers on the wind.

We had brought excitement and activity to my small, peaceful village.

A row of ragtag men in leather armor and old rusty weapons waited for us just before the first longhouse. One of the men was hurrying to throw on a tin helmet, and it was somewhat adorable because he had to be ninety years old. Still living in the Middle Ages, Klein? Even in the twenty-first century.

I smiled at the old man’s show of defiance—lifting his chin, his helmet tipping awkwardly on his head. Five younger men and women were by his side, stopping our progress.

“What is the meaning of this?” Klein shouted in a cracking voice. He raised a spear, wagging it in the air. “Outsiders to Selby Village are unwelcome unless given admittance by our elders.”

Sigmund stepped forward to announce his status, but a voice to the side cut him off, piercing through the tense standoff like a knife through butter.

“Stand down, Klein. This here is Sigmund Calladan, Gothi of Vikingrune Academy.”

Swordbaron Korvan appeared from around the side of a longhouse, his two swords strapped to his hip, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Korvan!” I shouted gleefully. He was a sight for sore eyes.

The man who had raised me from youth—taught me fighting, honor, and who acted like a father figure when I had none—nudged his chin past Sigmund when he noticed me standing in his shadow. “Our most illustrious children have evidently returned.”

Korvan bowed his head to Eirik and Damon next to me. He had trained them as well—Hel, he’d trained everyone in this damned village.

The Swordbaron sidled up next to Klein and patted him kindly on the shoulder. “Be a lad and get Lindi and Hallan, won’t you? Tell them their kin is here.”

Klein swallowed hard and nodded. I noticed the slump of his shoulders, the sheer relief at not having to defend the village’s honor and sanctity in his declining age.

Klein ran off with the others and left Korvan standing in front of us, his arms folding over his chest. His brown-and-gray hair had grown longer, down to his shoulders, though he kept his beard trimmed and proper. He was as strong-looking as ever, with burly arms and a lithe build—impressive for a man well into his fifties.

The ruckus from the village had gotten louder as more and more people came out of their hovels to see what all the fuss was about. I heard the whispers, the rumors already building.

Clearly, Ma had not told anyone about the letter she’d sent me, because we were unexpected.

“It is good to see you again, Swordbaron,” Sigmund eked out. It sounded like his words were strained, said through gritted teeth.

“And you, Sigmund.” Korvan sounded more comfortable, if not a little surprised to see us.

My brow knitted and I darted looks between the two men. They know each other?

“You remember Canute?” Sigmund asked, as if trying his hardest to make small talk while we waited. He shouldered the giant man next to him.

Korvan chuckled. “How could I forget? Only man to nearly best me with a sword in my day, eh, Canute?” His tone was teasing, showing me a side of the serious, heartfelt tutor I’d never seen.

Canute grunted. “It’s Thane now.”

Korvan went into an obnoxious, over-the-top bow, clearly not cordial with the guardmaster of Vikingrune. “Apologies, Thane Canute.”

Gods, what is happening? Korvan must have attended the academy. Clearly. How did I never know that?

It dawned on me that I’d never known much about Korvan at all. He spoke only when needed, and never shared much about himself in my youth. I didn’t know if he had any spouse, kids of his own, or what he’d done before showing up in Selby Village.

I felt a bit ashamed about that. The man is a mystery.

“Ravi? Is that you, daughter?”

My mother’s voice behind Korvan was riddled with surprise and relief.

I gave her a crooked smile as she stepped up beside Korvan. “Hello, Ma.” I gestured to my sides with my chin. “Brought these two vigilantes with me, too.”

Hallan Borradan, my stepfather and the blood-father of Eirik and Damon, was next to show his squirrely, skinny hide near my mother. “Sons!” he exclaimed, rushing forward.

I flared my nostrils and stepped aside to let him embrace Damon and Eirik with all the tenderness a father was meant to show his kids, yet had never shown me.

Hallan had been Exhibit A when it came to reasons why I wanted to leave Selby Village. He was abusive to me, both verbally and physically, and it all made a lot more sense now that I was coming back, looking from the outside in.

Like the Gray Wraith , everything seemed smaller here than before. Both my mother and stepfather looked frailer and older, with new wrinkles and grayer hair, even though I’d only been gone a year.

Hallan eyed my mates warily, and I stepped past him to speak with my mother. We embraced, and it felt nice to hold her again, even if her shoulders and bones seemed more brittle than before.

“I came as quickly as I could, Ma, I’m sorry.” As we hugged, I fought back tears. Stepping back with a sniffle, I gave her a once-over from head to foot, my face twisting with some confusion. “Strange, though,” I said. “You look hale.”

“It’s such a nice surprise seeing you, Ravi, but what do you mean, ‘as quickly as I could’?” Her expression of confusion marred her beautiful face. “What’s happened?”

“Erm, I got your letter.” At the sheer blankness on her face, I continued. “About you being sick?”

A shadow fell over her, suspicion mingling with the confusion. Lindi’s eyes darted past me, to Gothi Sigmund and the others, where her husband was still speaking with his sons.

My heart dropped to my boots, my face paling, and I knew it before she had to say a thing.

“Daughter . . . I never sent a letter to Vikingrune Academy.”

Ten minutes later, without trying to make too much of a stink about it, I stood in the main room of my old family longhouse. Ma was in front of me, with my mates behind me.

Sigmund, Canute, Eirik, Damon, Korvan, and Hallan were outside, setting up a makeshift eating area with the help of some villagers. A hasty feast was being planned for an hour from now, to welcome Selby’s “prestigious guests.”

The concern on Lindi’s face was palpable, making the longhouse feel stuffy and warm. Or maybe that was my five smoldering mates behind me, eyeing each other with shared suspicion.

“Tell me everything, sweetheart,” Ma began, folding her hands together in front of her workwoman’s gown. The room smelled lovely, of smoked fish and herbs.

With the sun beginning to set outside, she had clearly been preparing supper before we’d arrived. Now she had to prepare much, much more.

“We’ve not the time for all of it, I think.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Most pertinently, I received a letter from Gothi Sigmund with your name on it. It spoke of an illness befalling you, and requested I return to Selby in case you . . . worsened.”

Lindi scoffed and threw her arms out. “Well, I may be getting older, Ravi, but I’d say that’s no call for alarm!”

Arne and Grim chuckled behind me.

She scowled at them, shutting them up in an instant. Despite being the shortest, oldest person in the room, my mother never backed down to anyone, and it made me smile. It was what made her relationship with Hallan so infuriating, because he seemed to be the only one with any control over her—and he was the worst motherfucker to have it.

“The Hel is going on . . .” I muttered to myself, trying to backtrack.

Ma tapped her chin. “I have just the idea who might have written it, however.”

“Who?”

She ignored me, marching past with a scowl on her face to inspect my five guys standing in a row like eligible bachelors on a TV show. “And who are these ragamuffins, anyway, hmm?” She pointed at Corym. “This one’s ears are longer than yours!”

The elf smiled. “Indeed, ma’am. I am Corym E’tar, of Alfheim.”

Ma guffawed. “ Alfheim ? As in the land of the Ljosalfar?”

Corym’s smile widened. “The same, ma’am.”

“You wouldn’t want to hear his full title,” I said smugly. “We’d be here all night.”

She spun around to face me, and I giggled at the saucers she had for eyes. “Gods, lass, you weren’t kidding—we don’t have near enough time to discuss everything you’ve been doing!”

“Told you, Ma.”

“What are these strapping young lads to you, aye? Care to let me venture a guess?”

I shook my head, my cheeks flaming red. “I’d rather you not.”

She winked at me, a tug pulling the corner of her lip into a smirk. “Bodyguards, then.”

I nodded desperately. “Yes. That. Bodyguards.”

She grumbled to herself and walked past me, then turned to face all of us. “What else do you have for me, lass?”

My head tilted. “Have for you, Ma?”

Her face darkened, losing all its whimsy. I recognized the expression of vengeance tainting her dark eyes, and I knew immediately what she was talking about.

Shit.

“Did you succeed in our mission I sent you on, daughter? You’ve been gone two terms now, so I imagine your Shaping powers finally bloomed.”

I clenched my jaw. It was a bit presumptuous and unlike her secretive self to speak so plainly about this in front of mixed company, but maybe that was because she’d deduced what the guys were to me—how close I was to them—and knew that no secrets would pass between us.

As I prepared for the shit-storm that would follow, I nodded deeply. “I have. It took a while to discern the betrayers, Ma, but I finally got to the bottom of it.”

Her eyes widened in anticipation, her entire life’s work since leaving Vikingrune Academy showing on her face, making her look like an eager child.

“. . . And if you’d like to know who tainted our family name,” I drawled, “then look no further.” My hand swept behind me. “They’re standing before you.”

Silence. Confusion on Lindi’s face as one eye bulged larger than the other. She swiveled her gaze past me, back to my men. “I beg your pardon?”

I stepped aside to continue gesturing at my men, who had all grown rigid, straight-backed, and uncomfortable being put on the spot. They repositioned themselves, shifting their weight, putting their hands behind their backs, glancing at one another in slight terror.

Sorry, boys, it can’t be helped. My mother is like a bloodhound when it comes to this.

“With the exception of Corym, these four men are the descendants of those responsible for ruining the Lindeen name, Ma. I read the tomes, the records, made the family tree, double-checked my work. Everything I could think to do.”

Righteous fury showed on her face, eyes narrowing on my men like she was ready to Shape right there in the house and kill them all. Maybe she even thought I had brought them here so she could get her own revenge against them.

“Through inquisitions, backstabbings, a case of poisoned soup in one instance, and other backhanded measures, the ancestors of Grim Kollbjorn, Sven Torfen, Magnus Feldraug, and Arne Gornhodr made sure to do everything in their power to rid the world of our family name.”

I felt myself getting a bit smaller then, taking a moment to withstand my mother’s potent wrath—invisible yet heavy on my shoulders as she stared at me.

With a soft smile to my guys, I watched them stare at me in mixed expressions of shock and pride.

It filled me with renewed confidence, and I squared my shoulder when I faced Ma again.

“And rather than deciding to assassinate them as you wished, Ma . . . I fell in love with all of them.”