“Enough.” Siegfried sighed. The woman had been so paranoid about him that she’d troubled herself to memorize that entire list? “Why would Ulf give you that kind of information?”
“I paid him. He trusted me. If you want to know anything else, we can’t exactly ask Ulf.” She looked away. Who in Siegfried’s inner circle would give out this sort of information? It had to be one of his crew. No one else knew about eight. He froze. Dirk. His quartermaster. Dirk had asked him what his favorite color was. He’d thought it had been odd at the time. Could Dirk have had a hand in any of what had transpired at Folkvang?
“Get dressed,” Siegfried ordered. He donned the garb with the leather appearance, watching as she dressed herself.
Freya slipped into a bright pink toga with little pearls around the neckline. He was guessing Hedwig had sent that, because it was tight. The Sea Witch had even thought to provide her with a pair of Egyptian prostitute shoes in silver. This time, Freya held her hair back from her face with the winged band.
****
Siegfried had questioned Freya about her abilities and the fey as they rode on Enbarr to a shallow river. Freya would often pause when it seemed Enbarr’s voice intruded on her thoughts.
When the unicorn stopped on the banks, dotted with the red and yellow of autumn leaves and the late morning sunlight, Siegfried did not move from his back.
“He said he was going to wait anyway,” Freya said, gesturing to the unicorn. “He knew you wanted to talk to him.”
“How does this control over her work?” he asked Enbarr, trying not to feel foolish addressing the equine.
“I have to quote him again. ‘It is Lord of Equines, Wave Walker. If you want an answer, you will address me properly.’”
“Lord of Equines? The unicorn with all the absurdly long titles is Enbarr?” Siegfried had remembered reading about Enbarr, only he was never called by name. He slid from atop the unicorn, then wrapped his hands around Freya’s delicate waist to place her at his side.
“‘The Fox hasn’t figured that out yet, I see. As to your question, the spell is in effect, but one doesn’t claim they are nourished if they’ve not eaten or claim they are rested if they haven’t slept.’ This is not making any sense, Enbarr. Could you try to sound less mysterious and more to the point?”
Enbarr gave a shake of his head and Freya continued. “He said he means that you haven’t figured out how to use your control magic, the magic that will help me if I lose control of my powers. Why Enbarr couldn’t just say that instead of giving these convoluted analo—They absolutely
are
convoluted. Master? Convoluted or not?”
“Aye, convoluted. Enbarr, we do not have time to decipher your unicorn poetry. Speak plainly.” How was it not clear to
The Lord of Equines
that Siegfried needed to know he had control over Freya’s powers? It would not do for her to betray him or go mad. Not when he was enjoying her so much.
“He said he’ll prove it to you, so you can stop second-guessing him.” Enbarr neared Freya. “Don’t poke me in the eye with your horn.”
His horn touched the center of her brow as Freya closed her eyes until she was certain she was not going to lose her sight. Bindings of green light appeared around her limbs and throat with tethers of the same light. They flowed directly to Siegfried’s chest.
“You have absolute control,” Freya said.
“How does this absolute control work?”
“Enbarr wants me to quote him. ‘Those green bands of magic you saw, Two-Legs, bind her to your will. You are ignoring them. It is a simple matter, of course, to use this sort of power. All you need do is concentrate on Bright Mane, which should not be difficult, considering your loud thoughts.’ Enbarr, no. Fine, fine. He also says, ‘Only you focus on her in a way that involves taking control over… No, no, you’re clearly thinking very much in that manner. The difference is that you do not focus on her obeying your words on her own but pushing your will on her through those bonds. The green light, that is. Yes, I know, it sounds harsh. But she will need you.’”
“Enbarr, how can we trust you when you permitted this to happen?” Siegfried asked. The unicorn had been essentially arguing with thoughts that Siegfried hadn’t even formed into words. It was extremely unsettling.
The equine sighed and Freya continued. “‘The bond given the two of you last night is not merely a curse, Wave Walker. I have altered it, as is evidenced by her glimmery warpaint, as she dubs it. I was able to do this because you added your own promises, making it a reciprocal agreement between two kindred souls. You can always find her by following that green light. That light is only for you to see so you may locate her or she can locate you. The bonds become stronger with use. You will eventually be able to know what she’s feeling, and she will know the same of you. You’ll also know if either of you is in danger. It is my belief that eventually, you will be able to speak through your thoughts to each other through the bond, even from a distance. Perhaps then, He Who Cannot Sit a Horse, you will begin to trust another.’”
He glared at Enbarr, who gave his mane a toss and left them in a flurry of autumn leaves and blossoms, leaving Siegfried no chance to question why he would ever trust Freya. She was touching her wrists, as if trying to feel the now-invisible manacles. He didn’t want her to hear his thoughts like the horse did. He shouldn’t want to hear hers, yet his distrust of people made him want to know.
“I guess there is no more privacy,” Freya murmured.
“You have no privacy,” Siegfried said, lifting her chin so she met his gaze. “You deserve no less for standing aside as others’ was taken away.”
He walked around her, inspecting her for a long moment before unlocking the collar. She stood at attention, arms folded behind her back. The instant a drop of drizzle fell upon her nose, she winced.
Siegfried concentrated on Freya, thought about those green bonds of magic. The rain was beginning to pick up. Of course, she was disturbed by what Enbarr had told her. Something that felt like electricity stirred within him, and the subtlest hint of fear mingled with uncertainty.
No
. When he opened his eyes, only now realizing he’d closed them, Freya was standing still as a statue. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, Master,” she said, not moving. “I can’t use any magic at all. And I can’t move. Are you that afraid of me?”
“No. I’m not afraid of you. I was too forceful. Maybe I don’t need to use that much effort.”
“Probably not much at all.” She stretched, and he could see the outlines of her nipple piercings against the thin fabric of the toga.
“I have to do it again,” he murmured.
“What? Oh. Even numbers.”
“Do not say a word to anyone about the numbers.”
“I haven’t. It seemed like one of those things you wouldn’t want people to know,” she said. “Go ahead.”
“I’m sorry, this number obsession, the constant counting of everything… There were twenty-one boards in our hut last night. Three windows.” Why was he telling her this? “This adds to twenty-four.”
“I’m hardly one to judge anyone on being normal,” she said, digging the toe of her sandal into a rock. “Besides, I cut your food into eight bites to negate any possible bad numbers you may have found.” She spoke as if that was perfectly reasonable, not the least bit of amusement or derision in her voice or face.
Siegfried had never done this before, but he did it then, because he was the first not to look at him strangely for his number fixation. He hugged her. Her small fingers stroked his hair, tenderly. She wasn’t stiff, but soft, welcoming in his arms, even though she shivered.
“Do you want me to use one of my powers again? Or maybe you want to try to shift me into mermaid form?” she asked after he’d released her.
“Aye.”
She gave her mane a shake and stepped into the chill water. She stumbled, but fortunately, she landed on her rump on a smooth rock. He thought about the mermaid on the front of his ship, not certain what he ought to think about.
Freya was suddenly ensconced in a purple glow. The light vanished as quickly as it appeared, and he could hardly believe what was before him.
In a sultry voice, a lock of hair hanging between her eyes, she said, “Do you want your mermaid’s magic mouth?”
He choked as he waded into the river and lifted her from the rock, into his arms, his hands exploring the frilled fin where her human flesh met her tail. Their mouths melded. She shivered, and he pulled her closer to keep her warm. She was extraordinary.
She smiled. “Well, I’ve never been accused of being ordinary.”
Had he spoken aloud?
When he carried her deeper into the water, she said, “Hold me around my waist, tight. I’m going to move fast. Not Enbarr-fast, but fast enough. This is my favorite power, you know.”
“A mermaid…” He set her gently in the water then circled behind her, grabbing her breasts. “Are you certain I’ll be able to breathe?”
“It’s what Hedwig said.” She dove beneath the waves, the water around them growing warm. “You breathing?”
“Aye.” Talking underwater was a strange sensation. No water rushed in to fill his lungs. Their words were not muffled.
He had never been able to be underwater so long and really look at it all—the algae covering the smooth stones, the way the sunlight glimmered off the bodies of small fish. She did move swiftly, the muscles of her tail contracting under his thighs. He pushed the cloud of her hair from his face, tucking it between them.
He focused on that bond again, wondering how she felt about this control he had over her. Intimidation, aye. Surprise, definitely. And lust. Was he ruining her with his strange desires already?
The silence stretched for what could have been some length of time. Siegfried marveled at this new world to which he was now granted access, this world he’d spent most of his life just above.
“I’m thinking about who could be behind what happened in Folkvang. There have been rumors,” Freya said, “about Odilia practicing dark magic, that she’s some sort of sorceress. It makes sense if she’s dealing with the fey. If all gods and goddesses are just fey, that leaves us with a lot of options. Or not so many if they’re known by different names to different people. I’ve been thinking about all that Chiron taught me… I’d always wondered why he focused so much on myth.”
“Did you conclude anything?” Chiron. Siegfriend recalled the name of the tutor Freya had mentioned.
“Anyone who Hecate hurt might be worried that I’ll use Oblivion—that soul-destroying magic. As far as Woden, most people like him. All that battle glory and such… Balder would be an obvious suspect if I’m an heir to Asgard, too. But I can’t imagine him sending assassins after me. The other is Woden’s brother. Loki.”
The Trickster. Siegfried remembered some of the perverse tales.
“I don’t know much about Loki,” Freya said. “I found a chapter on him once, and Chiron took the tome from me and tore out the pages. Those ended up in the fire, something about it not being fitting literature for a young lady.”
Siegfried had not been so lucky to have someone take the tome away from him. “Odilia had to eliminate you, no matter what you said to Pompey. No matter who is involved.”
“That’s true. Odilia always said I was difficult. Well, a lot worse than difficult. She said I had a problem with rules, which is just impossible. I just disregarded them and they weren’t a problem.”
“Freya, how can you say that? You were in agreement about everything the Romans do.”
“I had to break lots of rules to be permitted to spend so much time in the barracks.”
“You are very contradictory. Did it never occur to you that your behavior could be considered suspicious? It’s out of the ordinary, and that’s being kind and without even considering your fey powers. I don’t know what to make of you.”
“Do you have a woman you’re seeing?” Freya blurted. He was surprised by the question, then understood why she asked. “Ulf said you didn’t, but I don’t know if I believe it. I’m wondering if I’m going to meet her and if she’s going to hate me.”
“What kind of man do you think I am? No. I have no woman or women. There isn’t room in my life for one.”
“But yet here I am.”
“Circumstances have given me you. You were right about your being useful. You also suffer no delusions about me being some sort of larger-than-life hero nor do you have any kind of infatuation with me. You’ll be with me, because you can be without getting yourself killed. Don’t think I’m going to leave you behind and give you a reprieve. No, you’ll be in my bed or using your powers for me. A long punishment for you, Freya, for your crimes against your people.” He squeezed one of her breasts. How he was going to enjoy punishing her. He grew hard at the thought. “And I am going to continue your training.”
“Training?” She sounded intrigued.
“Aye. What do you think I’ve been doing, telling you how to stand and kneel? There are certain ways things must be done, certain things I expect of you. You’re doing well enough, but there are a few lessons you will need. We’ll start with you serving my drinks and meals. I will not ask you to prepare them.”
****
Freya learned more about this when they stopped for a meal on the river banks. They situated themselves several yards from the water, amid a stand of pines. The meal was simple fare, consisting of bread and cheese. When she knelt to find the food, she bent over the way he’d told her, not bending her knees, bending straight from the waist. She peered over her shoulder to see if he was checking out her ass, which was the obvious point of bending this way. He was.
“Good, you remembered.” Yes. His gaze was firmly riveted to her backside, as he stood with his legs slightly apart, arms folded across his chest. “While I eat, you’ll kneel with your legs spread wide. You may fold your arms behind your neck or back, and I will feed you from my plate.” He sat down upon a moss-covered boulder.
Freya swallowed, knowing her face was red. She was bare now, hadn’t bothered to dress after transforming to her human form. He was going to hand feed her?
“I want your head up and to see your face,” Siegfried said. “Kneel for me like I told you.”