Siren Slave (54 page)
She gave Siegfried her silly grin. “Freya, Queen of the Valkyrie is back.”
“This is— You tricked me,” Loki said.
“Yes,” Siegfried said. “I have tricked the Trickster. You’ve severed my head. Our bargain is done.”
“You lied to me.” Loki looked to Lugh. “He has reneged on our bargain. He misled me.”
Lugh chuckled. “He said you could sever his head. He never explicitly said that it would kill him. You assumed such. Haven’t you done such things?”
“Before you all start squabbling, I have a grievance to address,” Freya said, stepping forward, wielding her trident like a scepter. She bowed before Lugh. “Loki is guilty of intent of murder. Besides his Druids murdering one of my maids in Folkvang—”
“I cannot prosecute him for murdering a human,” Lugh said.
“He’s obviously tried to kill Balder,” Freya said. “Oh, but then where’s the proof? Even though we all know it’s true and he admitted as much. However, Loki intended to murder our child. Our child did not exist—long story, and sorry about that Father. But I almost died. You saw the state I was in when I came here.”
Siegfried grimaced. No, he would not be far from his mermaid’s side from now on.
“And Loki swore not to harm her,” Siegfried said.
“Yes,” Pompey grunted when Hedwig elbowed him. “I’ll vouch that it was in the plans when we’d heard Freya was pregnant.”
Freya strode to the middle of the room. “Do any of you really care for your freedom? All of you have drank and eaten with Loki. Loki and Odilia told me they’d planned to make the Otherworld just like Folkvang. No drinking. No fun. No disagreeing with them. No sex, unless Loki is sleeping with some random creature. Tell them, Loki. Not as if anyone is going to believe you if you tell them you don’t have a secret, well, not so secret, fascination for alpacas.”
Loki took a step back. The crowd was glaring at him, awaiting his answer.
“Humans are like cattle is what Odilia said,” Pompey said, casting a nervous glance at Hedwig. “They must be managed. I’ve heard Loki voice the same opinions of the Otherworld. He believes you are too free.”
Quick as a flash of sunlight, Lugh was on Loki, a golden spear pressed against his throat.
“Yes or no?” Lugh said.
“Yes,” Loki said.
Lugh clapped his hands over Loki’s mouth. He looked at Freya. “How did you come to be poisoned?”
“Loki ordered me to be given an abortifacient,” Freya said. “He said it wouldn’t have happened if I submitted and worked with him, wielding Shadow. But I wouldn’t.” She looked down at her hands. “No matter what I may have done before. I don’t want that.”
“Oblivion, Loki?” Lugh said, shaking his head. “So none other has to hear your filth.” In an instant, he had severed Loki’s tongue. Somehow, Lugh managed to do this with his spear. The tongue was ground into the marble with the Ard Righ’s boot.
“The hall is going to need cleaning,” Freya said in a low voice.
Siegfried grabbed her, hugged her, enjoying the feel of her warm breath against his bare chest. And then he felt her tears.
“I missed you, pirate,” she murmured against his skin and he held her tighter.
****
The celebrations were still going strong at dawn and would, apparently, continue for at least a sennight afterwards. Loki had been imprisoned below Asgard, chained, where he would remain for an eternity. Lugh had thought this a more fitting punishment than just killing him, as death was too quick for someone who used Oblivion magic.
Freya and Siegfried had darted away when the sun’s light tinged the sky to take their horse-drawn carriage to their new home. The rosy light pinkened the pearl walls of Sessrumnir. Sessrumnir was a sprawling palace of rose and lavender pearl. A great wood surrounded it, flowing with rivers of red wine and blueberry ale. It was on the coast, Freya was happy to see, with a port for Siegfried to dock the
River Queen
. Even though it was cold in Asgard, Freya was warmed by Brisingamen on her throat and Siegfried at her side.
The market stalls were closed, but smoke from the cook fires curled into the frosty sky from the brightly painted wooden homes, nestled amongst the trees.
“It’s beautiful,” Freya said, squeezing Siegfried’s arm.
Her husband reached down to fill a goblet with red wine from a stream. He took a hearty swallow.
“Home,” he said. “A home other than my ship. Our home. A home with you with lots and lots of privacy.” He gave her a wily grin, and then his lips were on hers.
“Plunder me, pirate,” she whispered against his mouth.’
And what could he do but oblige?
About the Author
Aurora Styles has dreamed of writing since second grade and has been avidly reading romance since her high school days.
She continued striving to be a writer throughout her adult life, often writing news-related commentary, though her passion was always fantasy and romance.
She lives in Luzerne County, Pennsylvania, with her Yorkie, Sir Robin of Locksley.
Visit Aurora at
www.facebook.com/AuroraStylesAuthor
To chat with Aurora Styles and other Wild Rose Press authors of erotic romance, join us at www.groups.yahoo.com/group/thewilderroses.
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