Page 23 of Alien Viking's Passion

“That’s how it feels. Trolls, you say? On this side of the mountains?”

“It’s the Big Shine,” Aretha explained. “It makes your enemies do strange things. Do you remember Eira, Craxon? Bragr’s big shieldmaiden?”

“I try to avoid his shieldmaidens,” the prince rumbled. “Their attention can be… intense. Why?”

“She and I were attacked by skrymtir. She made sure I could escape, and then I was caught in that net by trolls. You came along in the shortship and pulled me inside it. Then the trolls attacked you and the shortship took us here.”

He stared into the fog as he digested it. “A strange tale indeed, Lady Aretha. I don’t seem to remember anything that happened today. But the more I look at you, the more I think I know you. And of course your mode of speaking to me tells me that I have given you leave to be unusually intimate.”

“Oh, you know me,” she said with a little smile. “And we have been ‘unusually intimate’. Perhaps you remember the birthday party some days ago? The other Earth women?”

He looked away and clearly concentrated, his body tensing up. Then his shoulders slumped. “It’s like grasping at shadows. I almost have it, but then it slips through my fingers. It’s most unpleasant. What else might I have forgotten?”

“I don’t know,” Aretha said. “You’ve been keeping your distance to me.”

“I have?” He came slowly closer, blue eyes piercing hers. “I can’t imagine why. Are you a shieldmaiden?”

“No, I’m a regularastrophysicistfrom Earth, adebt-ridden liferon theUnityspace station.”

“Most of what you just said is unknown to me. Have I forgotten words, too?”

“Those were words in my language, which I don’t think you’ve ever known.”

He reached out a big hand and put the knuckles of the fingers against her cheek. “Perhaps I should learn.”

She wanted to lean into his touch, but hehadbeen keeping his distance. And right now, he probably wasn’t being himself. “I don’t think it’s worth it for you. Anyway, what do you think we should do now? Hjalmarheim is that way.Thatway leads further up the mountains. Onthosetwo sides are steep rock walls.” She pointed in every direction. “And if we can’t use the shortship, then it may be difficult to leave. But we can find a way. Maybe you should sit down?”

Craxon put his heavy hand on her shoulder, ignored her suggestion, and looked around them. “The mountains of Hjalmarheim. I have only been here once before, and that was during my trials as a warrior. I remember the cold and the smell of the fog. Aretha, your heartbeat is going very fast. Are you afraid?”

“I’ve never been here before,” she said. “Today I’ve seen a new friend fight skrymtir, and I don’t know if she survived it. I’ve run for my life, I’ve been taken by trolls, and I’ve been caught in a net, thinking I might drown. And I think the Prince of Ragnhildros is miffed because I’m not saying ‘Your Highness’ to him with every sentence. So I’m not at my best right now.”

“A full day indeed,” he rumbled and squeezed her close to him. “I can assure you that this prince you mention is not easily miffed, nor does he complain about the way you speak. Know that I willprotect you here. With my sword and my life.”

“I know you will,” she said and put her arm around his hard waist, enjoying being pushed into him. “You’ve already saved me from trolls. And from vettir. Oh, maybe you remember that? The swarm of vettir that suddenly attacked Chen and me?”

Again the Viking concentrated, closing his eyes. “I can feel the memory. It’s there. I want to take it and step into it. But when I reach out, it turns to nothing, as if trying to grasp a wisp of smoke. A vettir swarm, you say? Everyone’s acting up!”

Aretha squeezed him. “It was a swarm that suddenly came down from the heights and attacked Chen and me. Then you came and killed some of them, chasing the others away.”

“Was I fighting alone?”

“I think you were nearby,” Aretha said diplomatically, “wanting us to be safe.”

“Why?” he persisted, staring hard down at her. “How would I know that you might need me?”

She looked away. “I think you liked me.”

He squeezed her again. “I think so too. And I still do! Now, it’s misty and it’s getting dark. Let’s find out more about where we are.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her with him into the woods. “Ah, yes. I know these surroundings. I may have been in this very place during my trials. The trees, the smell, the mist… but of course all the forests in Hjalmarheim smell this way. Have you ever been to Ragnhildros, Aretha? Our forests smell better than this, I can assure you. They are much less foggy, as well. Barely any fog in our forests. But there is often a great deal of mist. It is the most excellent mist, of course. Ah, this is agood place to build shelter of some kind. And there, firewood. Splendid! If only these trees would bear some fruit! But it is the wrong time of year— no, look! Surely those things over there can be eaten. Or maybe I shall hunt for food. I haven’t done that for years, but I still know how. See? This is a completely harmless forest where nothing will attack us.”

He was clearly trying to be upbeat and cheerful to reassure Aretha that she was safe and that they would be fine. It was working, too. Mostly because she’d never seen him like this, and she liked it.

Craxon picked a bright red berry from a bush that was full of them and put it in his mouth, then made a face. “Ah. Very sweet. Perfectly edible. Yeth. Not at all poisonouth or frightfully sour. My tongue ith not being paralyzed. Not in the least. This ith…toothweet, in fact.” He spat the half-chewed berry out and coughed, then rubbed the back of his hand on his tongue as if to get rid of it all. “Far too deliciouth to eat. After all, thith ith not a feast for holy Zhor. It would be sacrilege— no, leave them there,” he quickly said and grabbed her hand when Aretha reached out to take a berry, just to examine it. “Let the vettir eat them and die.”

“Will they die from that?”

“We can only hope.” He looked up. “Was that a drop of rain?”

It was, and more drops were falling.

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