Ægir: A Berserker Warrior Romance (Berserker Warriors Book 1) Read online

  Ægir

  A Berserker Warrior Romance

  Lee Savino

  Silverwood Press, LLC

  Contents

  Free Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

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  Also by Lee Savino

  About the Author

  Ægir: A Berserker Warrior Romance

  by Lee Savino

  The only daughter of an Irish chieftain has one purpose and one alone: marry well. But on the eve of my wedding, I’m stolen away on a ghostly ship by a warrior trapped in time.

  Legend tells of a Sea Wolf who must sail the northern seas until he finds the woman who can break his curse and lead him home.

  The legend is real. The Sea Wolf has come for me.

  Ægir (a Berserker novella) is a standalone fantasy romance novella starring a huge dominant warrior and the woman he will claim as his own. It was formerly titled The Sea Wolf and published in a pirate’s boxset.

  The Berserker Saga

  Sold to the Berserkers - – Brenna, Samuel & Daegan

  Mated to the Berserkers - – Brenna, Samuel & Daegan

  Bred by the Berserkers (FREE novella only available at www.leesavino.com) - – Brenna, Samuel & Daegan

  Taken by the Berserkers – Sabine, Ragnvald & Maddox

  Given to the Berserkers – Muriel and her mates

  Claimed by the Berserkers – Fleur and her mates

  Berserker Brides

  Rescued by the Berserker – Hazel & Knut

  Captured by the Berserkers – Willow, Leif & Brokk

  Kidnapped by the Berserkers – Sage, Thorbjorn & Rolf

  Bonded to the Berserkers – Laurel, Haakon & Ulf

  Berserker Babies – the sisters Brenna, Sabine, Muriel, Fleur and their mates

  Night of the Berserkers – the witch Yseult’s story

  Owned by the Berserkers – Fern, Dagg & Svein

  Tamed by the Berserkers — Sorrel, Thorsteinn & Vik

  Free Book

  Get a secret Berserker book, Bred by the Berserkers (only to the awesomesauce fans on Lee’s email list)

  Go here to get started… https://geni.us/BredBerserker

  1

  The wind whipped between the rocks, howling like a wolf. I stood on the edge of the cliff staring at the frothing water far below my feet. A fierce gust could pull me off balance or the ground could crumble under me and I’d fall to my death.

  Or I could leap, arms outstretched to embrace the air.

  It would be so easy. Just a single step—

  “Muireann!” Nanny’s voice broke the fog before I saw her stooped form and beaked nose. She toddled up the old, perilous path, her round body threatening to pitch over into the water. I stepped back from the ledge, ready to keep her from falling.

  “I thought I’d find you here,” she shouted over the wind. My braid was long undone, wild tendrils whipped my face.

  “Oh,” Nanny scolded. “your hair.”

  I’d been standing in the wind so long my lips were numb. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It will to your bridegroom.” Nanny tugged and tsked. “Fey locks, like your mother. I’ll have to comb it out before the crossing. Unless you were thinking of leaving now?” Nanny’s voice was mild, but her dark eyes were sharp as a raven’s. She already knew why I’d climbed the cliff this morn.

  If Nanny had not come, I would’ve found it in me to take that final step. People would say I’d fallen to my death and the sea cheated the son of the Uí Néill chieftain of his chosen bride.

  Nanny’s breath came in harsh puffs, misting the air. But she swallowed whatever she was about to say and raised a brow instead. “Is that the way you wish to go, then?” Nanny casually craned her neck to look down at the rocks. “I’ll tell them all you died.”

  “It won’t deter Dòmhnall.” My bridegroom had promised he’d take this island one way or another. Marriage was our best option, he’d explained, but he wouldn’t mind shedding blood.

  Marrying was the only way to prevent war. So, I must give up my life for my loved ones.

  “It’s not too late,” Nanny said gently. She wouldn’t blame me if I tried to escape this marriage one way or another.

  “No, Nanny. I’ll do my duty.” But I cast one longing look at the sea then followed my ancient nurse down the cliff and back towards home.

  “So much fog this morning.” Nanny chattered as I helped her over the slippery rocks. “Twill make it hard for your bridegroom to fetch you.”

  “It will break by midday,” I murmured. Would that the fog would shroud this island and hide it forever.

  “Not this fog. Thick as a witch’s brew.”

  I raised a brow at her. I was not the only woman the villagers called ‘witch.’

  “Oh, I didn’t stir it up,” Nanny waved a hand as if she was talking of making stew, not controlling the weather. “Your mother knew how to call a storm, but she never taught me.”

  “Nor I.”

  “Pity.”

  “We could not hide forever,” I murmured.

  “We could, but your father would not like it. Your mother had a place she kept hidden away. A cabin on a tiny island. It’s still hidden by her spells, but a woman in need could find it.” Nanny’s eyes were black as a raven’s, staring into mine.

  I shook my head. “I promised. Even if I run and hide, Dòmhnall will still come. And father would be in trouble.”

  “Your father should’ve never promised you to him.”

  “He had no choice,” I whispered. We’d reached the edge of the village and anyone might overhear us. I quickened my steps, linking my arm with Nanny’s to urge her along.

  “What is the world coming to, that women are pawns in the hands of men? If your mother was alive—”

  The wind whipped up, tossing her words out to sea. We bowed before the howling force, squinting and turning our faces aside.

  Out on the water, the mist boiled with strange shapes. The swirling grey solidified for a moment into a curving prow. I started. Was that a ship out on the water?

  “What is it?” Nanny shouted, looking where I stared.

  “Nothing.” Nothing emerged from the fog. Not a ship, not a ghost. Perhaps I’d seen a vision but more likely it was nothing at all.

  We ran the rest of the way to my father’s hall as wind sang like a lone wolf, a piercing cry of sorrow.

  Once inside, Nanny secreted me to her favorite room off the kitchen. Here the light and warmth from the great hall’s hearth fire seeped in, but the herb bundles hanging from the lower roof gave us some privacy. Servants hustled about, but none dared trespass Nanny’s realm. I sat and sipped an herbal brew while Nanny fussed with my hair.

  “Shall I tell you the story?”

  “Why not,” I sighed. I’d heard all of Nanny’s stories before, but it would help pass the time.

  “Once there was a great and fearsome warrior named The Wolf. He was the strongest and best of the king’s men but wished to keep his strength forever. He went to a witch for a spell to make him the greatest warrior of all time. The witch warned him that her magic had a price. She would make him the greatest warrior of all, but he—”

  I closed my eyes and allowed Nanny’s voice to take me away as her clever fingers untangled the snarls in my hair. By the end of the story, my dark mane was tamed into a respectable plait befitting of a lady. And I was calm.

  “There,” Nanny said at last, stepping back. “Now you can change, a
nd you’ll be ready for the crossing.”

  “I’m not changing.” The gown I’d worn to hike the hill wasn’t my best, but it was clean, and the color reminded me of my mother’s eyes. Paired with my sturdy boots, it would serve to deliver me to my intended.

  “You’re wearing that to the wedding?” Nanny sounded scandalized. “What will the Uí Néill think of us?”

  “The same as they already do.” I rose from the stool. I had no great height, but I towered over Nanny. “That we’re pagan savages.”

  “Don’t let Father Pátraic hear you say that.” Nanny crossed herself but her rolling eyes belied her piety.

  I grinned. “He knows he has work ahead of him to make our people forget the old ways. He’ll think it easier with me gone.”

  “Dòmhnall won’t let you keep the old ways.” Nanny bustled about, gathering herbs into a linen cloth. “The Uí Néill keep the Christian faith.”

  “I’ll never abandon my mother’s teachings.” I crossed to the hearth and gazed into a bowl of water. For a moment, smoke seemed to cross its surface. I stilled, willing the vision to come to me. My mother could scry at will, but my own visions came to me unbidden.

  Before the smooth surface could show me anything, Nanny plopped down on the hearth, bumping the bowl. As she tsked and wiped up spilt water, the smoke swirled away.

  “Your husband might insist you do. According to Father Pátraic, Christians prefer their wives silent and biddable.”

  “Silent maybe. I doubt I’ll have much to say to the Uí Néill. But my new husband has a lesson coming to him, if he thinks I’ll be biddable.”

  “Good lass.” Nanny handed me the linen bundle. “Keep that secret and safe. You’ll know how to use it, if the time comes.” She winked but I tucked away her offering carefully. My mother taught me to use herbs to ward off sickness and prevent quickening since I was old enough to tend a fire. I had my own herb sachets in my packed belongings. I’d not bear Dòmhnall a child unless I wished.

  Murmurs outside the stillroom made our conversation cease. A young servant heralded the arrival of Father Pátraic.

  “The boat is here. Your bridegroom awaits,” the priest said, his ceremonious air ruined by him addressing one of the hanging herb bundles. Nanny cleared her throat and he turned his myopic gaze to me. “The Lord grant you safe passage over the channel.” He shifted from foot to foot, ill at ease in Nanny’s domain.

  I nodded my thanks and swept past him. Of all my father’s people, the priest would be the happiest to see me go. With Nanny’s help, I’d taken my mother’s place as healer and wise woman. I took care not to gainsay any of the priest’s preaching, but my very presence seemed to threaten him. In his narrow world, a woman should not speak her mind, or wield so much power.

  Together Nanny and I made our way down to the beach.

  “The fog’s still upon us. Do you think Dòmhnall will wait to send the boat for you tomorrow?”

  “He did not want to wait, remember? He saw me at the fair and would have no other for his bride.” My lip curled.

  “And your father wouldn’t gainsay him.”

  “Only because he is the son of a great chieftain who has the High King’s ear. The daughter of a tiny tuatha should be grateful for such a match.”

  Nanny sniffed. “You’re the daughter of a chieftain, equal to Dòmhnall. And your mother had great power.” She glanced around but none of my father’s servants were close enough to hear her lowered tone.

  “Some power, that it could to save her.” My mother had died when sickness came to the village. “Some power, that it cannot save me.”

  “It could…” Nanny began carefully.

  “No. I told you I would not. Do not speak of it again,” I snapped. Escape would lead to my father’s ruin, for all it tempted me.

  Nanny fell silent, bending to tuck away a loose thread in my cloak. She didn’t chastise me. She didn’t have to.

  I rubbed my forehead. “Forgive my short temper. I am already weary of this day.”

  “Cheer up, child.” Her efforts to disperse my melancholy were relentless. “Remember the stories your mother told, of the great warrior who’d bear you across the sea? Your mother knew this day would come. That’s why she named you ‘Muireann’.”

  “The bullying son of an Uí Néill is hardly a great warrior. And the channel is hardly the boundless sea. Besides, that is only a tale she told me to sleep.”

  “The seed of a story is truth. Your mother told many stories and they all bear a truth.”

  “You speak of the charm she spoke over me.”

  “As a raven flies true, you’ll always find your way home,” Nanny recited.

  I twisted to face her.

  “That was before my powers had come to be,” I whispered. “She could not have known.”

  “She knew. Where do you think your powers came from?”

  I straightened, unwilling to speak more about what should be kept secret. My mother’s powers were whispered about in the village, but I took care to limit my gifts to herbs and healing arts. Not even my father knew what I could do.

  “There’s the boat,” Father Pátraic caught up with Nanny and I.

  A small skiff lay beached next to its oars. One of my father’s men, Danny stood by ready to row me across. Other than him, only two of the men gathered on the beach were unknown to me. They were big, thuggish types, fully armed as if they expected trouble. These must be Dòmhnall’s men, come to ensure his unwilling bride got in the boat.

  “Dòmhnall didn’t come himself.” Nanny frowned.

  “He knows we dare not disobey him.” Dòmhnall made it clear in the marriage talks with my father. If I did not marry him and give him inheritance rights through my dowry, he’d come with a band of men and take the island by force. By blood or by marriage, he’d possess our island. My sacrifice meant no folk would fall to his fianna’s swords.

  “So much for the great warrior bearing me across the sea,” I murmured to Nanny before greeting Danny and giving a nod to my escort. The two thugs ignored me. With any luck, after the formality of the ceremony, their lord would too.

  “A moment before you board,” Father Pátraic couldn’t help officiate. “Your father is coming to see you off.”

  “Better hurry,” Nanny muttered. “If the weather gets any worse, you’ll have to wait. But at least the wind’s died.”

  I strode to the water’s edge, toeing a few rocks with my boots. The fog lay like a grey cloak on the water. I could not see the way across. But as I stared, the dark depths swirled, offering up strange shapes and wraiths. Was that a ship in the mist? The proud curl of a dragon-headed prow?

  I caught my breath. Such ships had not been seen on these shores for many years.

  “My lady?” Nanny tugged on my arm and I let her pull me back from the shore.

  I was Seeing things. Perhaps I should’ve spent the morning trying to scry. Not that I wished to see the future, but if the gods had something to tell me the visions came whether I wanted them or not.

  A crowd had gathered on the beach to see me off. The villagers approached me one by one to thank me and bid me safe travel. I murmured my thanks while Father Pátraic looked on sourly. I’d said goodbye to the last when the ranks parted and my father came forward, his new young wife at his side.

  “Storm’s coming. Are you sure you should not leave tomorrow?”

  “I’m fine, Father. Best not delay.”

  He signaled and a maidservant brought forward a gift. A thick cloak lined with fur. Nanny helped wrap me in it.

  “Would that your mother were here. She would be proud to see you.”

  “Thank you, Father,” I willed my voice not to shake. A sob caught my throat when I saw the brooch Nanny used to secure my new brat. A raven made of heavy silver. As a raven flies true, you’ll always find your way home. The brooch would be a reminder.

  “My lady?” Nanny asked when I fingered the shape of a bird in flight.

  “I’m fine,�
�� I whispered to her. “I’ll not fly away.” Not yet.

  She patted my cheek, tears in her eyes.

  “Be good, daughter,” my father kissed me clumsily.

  “Goodbye, father,” I said and stepped back to let Nanny draw down my veil. My mother had worn a similar veil when she came across the sea to marry my father. The dark head covering was my one concession to ceremony. “I’ll send word when I am married.”

  Danny helped me into the boat. Dòmhnall’s men had already commandeered the prow. I sat straight and proud, looking to sea as Danny rowed away.

  The way across the channel was not treacherous as long as we did not lose our way and head for the rocky parts of the shore. The mist made monsters out of the great rocks, turning them into shrouded heads rearing from the sea. I waited for another vision to come, but none did. I turned my thoughts to my bridegroom.

  Dòmhnall was son of a powerful chieftain. Both he and his father were rough and fond of battle, and land hungry. Why they thought our island was worth negotiating for, I’d never know. Perhaps the tale that Dòmhnall thought I was the loveliest woman he’d ever seen was true. More likely I had insulted him somehow with my reticence to any man’s claim, and he wished to prove his power by ruling over me.

  Dòmhnall was a bully, but as bridegrooms went, there were worse. I would be fine. I would survive.

  “Curse this bitter weather.” Danny muttered after a time.

  “Shut up and row,” the warrior ordered.

  “Do as they say,” I murmured, adjusting myself in my seat to keep my gown out of the bilge water at the bottom of the boat.

  “You’re a quiet one,” said the younger of Dòmhnall’s men.