Page 14 of Alien Viking's Passion

Tyra sighed. “Is that really the best you can do, Highness?”

“For now. I am rarely drunk, as you know. I’m not used to it. I will let you know when I remember more. Right now my brain is not working right.”

The woman sat down stiffly on a chair by the wall. “May I? I agree that you were probably the worse for drink last night, Highness. That is not a problem at all. Indeed we, your humble servants, wish that you’d cut loose more than you currently do, and go to more parties to have fun. Regularly giving in to their natural urges is the method that other princes have used to keep the danger away. But there are ways of doing that which reduce the risk even more. Remembering the names of women that… umm….catch your fancyfor an evening, is high up on the list of things that will make my job easier and keep the Principality of Ragnhildros more secure.”

“Of course,” Craxon said, just wanting the conversation to end. “I wasn’t aware of how strong the Hjalmarheim myod could be.”

Tyra looked at him with obvious suspicion. “I see that you’d prefer me not to ask more questions, Highness. It only makes me more concerned. It’s the plight of my position to accept whatever you tell me without injuring your pride or position, while at the same time trying to keep you and the principality safe. I can only note that you have never behaved like this before.”

“I’ve never been exposed to Earl Bragr’s myod or his shieldmaidens before,” he countered with a little smile. “They are quite formidable, Tyra. Yes, yes. I understand, and I will of course report to you the moment I remember more about the woman in question. She meant nothing to me at all. Sweet Zhor, I wish I could go home!”

“Hopefully the ship will soon be finished, Highness,” Tyra said, clearly not completely satisfied. “Regrettably, it is now my duty to repeat the reasons why you must stay in total control of yourself when it comes to love. It is tedious for us both, but it is required whenever I’m not entirely sure I have the whole picture. May I, Highness?” She slowly stood back up.

“If it makes you feel better,” Craxon grumbled. “Go ahead.”

“A long time ago, during the last Big Shine,” Tyra began the familiar lecture, “the terrible draugr Kofraks cursed Ragnhildros, and specifically its princes. He stated that if any ruler of our land falls in love, all Ragnhildros ships will sink into the sea and huge waves will flood our entire principality, killing our people. Kofraks has often demonstrated his power to do this, making ships sink and flooding coastal areas, with great loss of life. Every time, it was revealed that the ruling prince or princess was having a secret love affair. The ruler of Ragnhildros is thus expected to stay cold and unmoved, to not fall in love, to banish any person he feels might be a possible love interest, to only enjoy the pleasures of mating once with any one person, to make sure never to see that person again, and to be extremely vigilant about his own emotions. The Royal Council and we, your servants, will happily assist in this. The consequences of any other course of action could be immensely damaging for Ragnhildros. Well, that’s the short version, Highness. Thank you for your indulgence.” She stood still, waiting to be dismissed.

“Send me the soothsayer after breakfast, will you?” he ordered, waving his hand lazily in dismissal. But he caught himself in time. This was not how he would treat his underlings. “Wait, Lendkven! Thank you for being vigilant. The principality and our people depend on it. Now get some breakfast for yourself.”

“Highness.” Tyra bowed and left the room, having done her duty and now undoubtedly eager to investigate his story and find the shieldmaiden in question.

Well, she would search for a long time.

When the door closed behind her, Craxon sighed and stroked his hand across his eyes. It had never been hard to stick with the rules. No woman had seemed that interesting to him, most of them blinded by his status, first as heir to the throne and then as the ruler.

But Aretha was a different matter altogether. She didn’t care about that.

Mighty Zhor, she had taken hold of all his thoughts. He had gone to the party specifically to see her, to check that she was all right, to make sure there were no vettir to attack her. And then he had seen the young warrior accosting her, he had reacted with violence, and then…

Then he had been helpless against his own urges.

The door opened and Valtyrr came in, bumping into the door frame. “Morning, Highness. I wondered where you had got to.” The warrior sank down into a chair, acting naturally because it was only the two of them. The chair creaked dangerously. “And then I saw the chaperone come out, and I knew you needed some real support. How bad is it?”

“It’s bad enough, Valtyrr,” Craxon admitted to his closest friend and confidant. “I spent some time with an alien woman.”

Valtyrr sighed comfortably as he loaded up his wooden plate with food from the table.

“Alien women don’t count, surely. The curse only concerns our own kind.”

Determined not to have his already remarkably well-fed friend eat his entire breakfast, Craxon picked out some pieces of friedgresfor himself. “Perhaps. But I can’t bet the future and survival of our people on that.”

Valtyrr was stuffing his face with bread and meat and pieces of fruit. “Any man needs to let loose once in a while, Crax. You do it too rarely. Very well, one night with an alien. So you can never see that particular female again. So what? They’re lining up to spend a night in your bed, you know that.”

“Some do,” Craxon admitted, considering telling Valtyrr all of it. But that would put his friend in a difficult situation. He knew about the curse, and it was his sworn duty to inform the Royal Chaperone of any sign that the prince was about to fall for someone, so that measures could be taken and the risk eliminated. And of course Valtyrr wasn’t eager for his homeland to be flooded. On the other hand, Craxon never doubted his loyalty. The outcome was obvious — Valtyrr would not tell the chaperone, but try to solve the problem himself in secret. That could not be good news for Aretha. Craxon’s warriors were not the most sophisticated people, but they had sharp swords and enjoyed using them.

Valtyrr loaded up his plate again, making the most of Earl Bragr’s unusual hospitality. “Did you tell her about the curse?”

“Of course not!” Craxon scoffed, draining his mug of some sweet, warm drink and refilling it from a metal pot. “Nobody outside Raghildros may know about the curse. Our enemies would exploit that weakness for all it’s worth.”

“Of course,” Valtyrr echoed. “Not suggesting that you’ve been indiscreet, Crax. But we were all drunk last night, and good drink and good company will tend to loosen the tongue from its binds. Its bindings, I mean. Its bondage? I forget how that goes.”

“I didn’t drink,” Craxon told him. “And I am not going to tell anyone about the curse. Oh, well. It will sort itself out. Hopefully the ship will soon be ready and we can go home.”

“It’s possibly the only drawback about being a Ragnhildrose,” Valtyrr said, picking from the scraps remaining on the table. “We need better ships than everyone else to travel across the seas. The draugr Kofraks will pull down any small vessel, just to annoy us. How did you explain it to Bragr?”

“I simply said that I need a bigger ship than the fishing boats he offered to lend me. He’s too much of a chief to ask why. He knows my reasons must be good.”

“A great man, Earl Bragr,” Valtyrr said with his mouth full. “Soon to be King Bragr, and none too soon.”

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