Page 7 of Alien Viking's Passion

“I heard the screams,” a small boy said. “I told you, Father!”

“You did tell us, Heinarr,” Kjornar admitted, tousling the boy’s hair. “Next time we shall believe you. It’s the first time I’ve heard of vettir on this side, Your Highness. We must form a guard company in case they come down here.”

“It’s a certainty that your earl will order it done,” Craxon guessed. “Were I in my own realm, and you my subjects, I should do it at this very moment. Of course there’s no harm in acting before the order goes out. Still, I doubt that swarm of vettir will come down here tonight. They will not have the stomach for another defeat this soon.”

He glanced over at Aretha. She was following the conversation, touching the strange decoration at the side of her head. He wished he could run his hands down her bare arms and put his nose into her hair, drawing in her scent— he caught himself as the crotch of his pants creaked with the swelling. “And they will need clothing, as you can see. The earl and I will see you reimbursed.”

“We would be grateful for any help you may give,” Aretha added with her unusual, charming lilt. “My name is Aretha, and this is Chen.”

“Of course we shall give you all the help you need, guest Aretha,” Kjornar said decisively, snapping out of his worry about the vettir. “My wife will treat your wounds and provide you with clothing. And I think a square meal is in order. Of course you will spend the night here, as well. It’s too far to travel to the jarlagard tonight, especially with the chance of meeting vettir on the way. We would be honored if you would stay in our humble homestead, Prince Craxon.”

The jarlagard wasn’t far away at all — the two females had been able to walk from there to the hillside in one afternoon. But Kjornar’s exaggerated generosity gave Craxon an easy escape from the dangerous situation he had put himself in with an irresponsibility that made his head swim.

He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Nothing would please me more than to enjoy the hospitality of your splendid estate, Kjornar! But I have a working shortship, and your earl must be told about this surprising threat to his lands. I will travel to him right now, leaving the aliens in your safe hands.”

“So be it,” Kjornar said, not visibly disappointed that Craxon wouldn’t be spending the night under his roof. “You know the way?”

“The jarlagard is hard to miss, Kjornar. Point me in the right direction, and I shall be off.”

“That way,” the little boy said, pointing north with his whole arm.

“What’s going on?” Aretha asked, her eyes big.

“You will be safe with Warrior Kjornar,” Craxon hurried to say. “Goodbye, Kjornar. Thank you for the help, Heinarr.” He walked quickly to the shortship and vaulted into it from the front.

“Are you just leaving us here?” Aretha called to him, disbelief in her thin, clear voice.

He brought the shortship to an unsteady hover and then powered away as fast as it would go.

“That was too close,” he seethed to himself as he put distance between himself and the greatest danger the realm of Ragnhildros had seen in all his day. “I have to start behaving like aprince,not a love-sick adolescent!”

3

- Aretha -

“... So he dumped us on this innocent farmer and his family,” Aretha said, “told them to fix our injuries and give us clothes and feed us, then jumped into his sled and sped away like a thief in the night. I mean, even on an alien planet, that has to count as pretty rude, right?”

The Vikings had put a solid, wooden bench on an outlook point close to the earl’s estate, where she could see a lot of the islands offshore and glimpses of the blue horizon further out. It was a good place for enjoying the hiss from the surf and the breeze from the ocean, as well as talking about things with friends.

“Sounds like he was being pretty abrupt,” Josie agreed, sitting next to Aretha.

Aretha had changed into her old top from the space station, made from a tough, black fabric that made her feel more confident than the Viking clothes she’d been given. The garments were plainly of unusually high quality, and that they were hand-made was a given on this pre-industrial planet. Butfor Earth girls, they were about a thousand years out of style. Aretha was fine with the long wool stockings they made, which went well with a light fabric skirt. Especially when paired with her light, strong space-age boots, made from all kinds of fancy materials. The overall look wasn’t elegant, but Aretha wasn’t there to win any pageants.

Josie was dressed like the wife of a Viking earl that she was, in a long, green dress with a white blouse and six small, golden brooches. The only obvious clue that she was not from around here was the small headset at one side of her head, similar to Aretha’s. “He’s a strange guy, that Craxon. Incredibly brave and admired, and he’s one of Bragr’s best friends. But he’s been avoiding most social events lately, to the point where people are asking questions. And now you think he stalked you, saved your lives from the vettir, and then lost his nerve?”

“I don’t know,” Aretha sighed. “Something like that. I don’tknowthat he was stalking us. But he pretty much admitted it. And how else could he have come to help us so fast? Hey, thank God he did. If not, Chen and I would have been hacked to death.”

“You would,” Josie said with a shudder. “Or lifted high into the sky and dropped to your death. I don’t care if he was stalking you or not. I’m just grateful he saved you both.” She absentmindedly rubbed her arm, where the gold and purple Marks she had got from the Ice Caves shone in the sunlight. She had identical Marks to Bragr, showing that they were Karestir — fated mates.

“See, I am too. And Chen. But we never even got a chance to thank him properly. At first we were in total shock after nearly dying, and then he just… well, dumped us.”

Powder blue birds were circling in the sky, calling to each other with melodic chirps. The bent and curved trees that grew thisclose to the ocean rustled in the mild breeze and sent out a fresh, exotic fragrance that would give pine scent a serious run for its money. Chen’s Aragorn comment had made her think of the ancientLord of the Ringsmovies, and this place was what the idyllic Shire would have been if placed on the coast.

“And you’re sure you hadn’t done anything to offend him? Not that these guys are easily offended, I don’t mean that. But Craxonisa prince from a foreign country, and I don’t know himthatwell. Maybe he got miffed.”

Aretha thought about it. “I suppose that could be it. I probably didn’t observe proper protocol. I think I called him ‘your highness’ at most once, but I was pretty shaken up. Maybe he can’t be around topless women? Some religious thing, maybe? I tried to cover up, but Chen didn’t. She had cheerfully free nipples until the farmwife put a shirt on her. Could it be that?”

Josie scratched her head. “Maybe. I don’t know. You’d think a Viking prince who rules a whole freaking country wouldn’t be a prude. I’ll ask Bragr, but I think he’s mystified about Craxon, too.”

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