Crown | Vikings | Valkyrie Queen Novel

Chapter 19

Riyah grunted as the force of her sword clashed against Aine's. The edge of their blades slid along one another, the noise of metal clanking echoed among the trees. Riyah pushed back sinking her feet into the dirt. Her heels acted as an anchor. Aine stumbled as she was caught off guard at the sudden show of her opponent's strength. The tip of Riyah's blade grazed her cheek, drawing blood with it.

"I give," Aine gasped and dropped her sword at her feet. The pommel bounced from the rough impact before settling in the dirt. She held the fabric of her sleeve to the bleeding wound.

"You did great today." Riyah told her. "But you shouldn't surrender. Your surrender on the battlefield means death."

Aine found the nearest stump and sat down. "It's no use... How can I ever think I can be a shieldmaiden when I can't beat you? I'm not sure if I'm cut out for this."

Riyah smiled reassuringly at her new friend and laughed. "You've only been training for a fortnight."

"Riyah is a revered and skilled shieldmaiden. You will get there one day." Harold said. He had watched from afar, but approached the two shieldmaidens as their training battle had finished.

He admired the way Riyah's body moved, contorting with ease. The way her muscles rippled underneath her delicate skin and her chest heaved against her pounding heart. Even now as the fight had ended, her chest rose covered in sweat and her breasts pressing against the fabric of her tunic. Her blonde locks were disheveled, still finely pulled back from her face in braids. Harold wanted nothing more than to lock his fist in her hair while she panted underneath him in pleasure.

"King Harold." Riyah said in surprise, slightly bowing her head in respect. Aine abruptly stood from the stump she was posted on and followed her lead. "Thank you for such kind words. What brings you outside of Kattegat?"

"I was looking for you actually. I was hoping you would accompany me to tonight's festivities." Harold suggested.

Riyah glanced over at Aine. Her eyes pleaded for Riyah to accept. Aine knew of Bjorn and his mistreatment and she could see the way Harold looked at her. Aine nudged Riyah forward, closing the gap between her and and Harold.

"I will take my leave. I must tend to my wound while there is still time!" Aine called out as she disappeared amongst the trees, leaving Harold and Riyah alone.

Riyah stood nervously, avoiding eye contact.

A small smile curved on Harold's lips as his fingertips caressed her chin and forced her eyes to meet his. "What do you say?"

"Yes." She breathed, cupping her hand over his to lean further into his touch. The beat of her heart pounded in her ears as her green orbs locked with his blue irises. She found her self lost in the softness, memorized in a trance. They were warm and inviting unlike the icey and hardened ones of Bjorn. It was something she wasn't used to.

His hand snaked its way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. With no more space between them, her chest pressed into his upper abdomen. She felt his free arm wrap around her waist, undaring to move below her hips. A respectful manner she hadn't seen from a man. His lips were gentle as they planted a kiss against her forehead.

Although his touch was gentle, she grimaced. Her body ached in pain and as the adrenaline depleted, she could feel everything. Everything right down to the newest of scratches. Aine had come far in just a week and despite her doubtful opinions of herself she had landed many blows to Riyah. The bruises aligning her body proved it.

"You've been training too much." Harold mentioned to her, tracing the outline of one of her many bruises. "You should rest."

"There is no time to rest. We leave for Wessex tomorrow." Riyah rested her head against Harold's chest. She breathed in a sigh, his spicy scent teasing her nose. She never wanted to leave his embrace.

"Come with me then." Harold smiled down at her, intertwining his fingers with hers.

Puzzled, she followed him to the outskirts of Kattegat. She could smell the fresh scent of equine deification before she even saw the stables. It was a place she hadn't frequented much anymore. It was often a place to avoid for the boys would bring their thralls to roll in the hay. Even Riyah had had her fair share of memories with Bjorn when they were younger. The memories held a bittersweet taste on her tongue now.

A stable boy worked outside, mucking the used straw bedding into a cart. Harold quickly dismissed him and ensured any other stable hands followed suite.

"What are we doing here?" She questioned.

"You'll see." He winked and gestured towards the barn, grabbing two rope halters before he entered.

Harold appeared with a horse in each in hand. Tying the lead ropes to a wooden post, he went back in. This time he emerged with a bucket full of brushes.

"It will be dark soon. It will be unsafe to ride this late in the day." Riyah noted.

"We won't be riding." Harold told her. He offered her a brush with thick bristles.

"Then what are we doing?"

Harold chuckled. "You ask too many questions, Riyah. Have you never just spent time with a horse? It's not all about riding and training for battle. These creatures will be your peace if you let them."

She watched as he approached one of the horses. Fuller in build, Riyah could have sworn it was a steed created by the Gods. Its coat, a silky black, glistened against the remaining daylight. The mane had been pulled into intricate braids much like the royalty hair styles while the tail flowed freely down to the fetlocks.

"This is Saga." He spoke in admiration, stroking behind the horse's ears. "She has been my peace between battles. It seems she is the only woman to put up with me through the years."

Saga whinnied and nuzzled her head into Harold's chest before nudging the brush in Riyah's hands.

"She's beautiful." Riyah whispered. Unsure at first if her actions were correct, she hesitantly held the brush to Saga's neck. In a flicking motion, the bristles softened the dirt attached to the hairs of her fur.

Harold stepped behind her, pressing his body to her back and overlapped his hand with hers. She could feel his breath against the nape of her neck, warm in the chilling air. He whispered, "She's yours."

She paused with a protesting whinny from Saga, her arms falling at her side. A strange yet exciting feeling filled her chest as her heart fluttered to life. Bjorn would never do this. She tilted her head upward, meeting Harold'slonging gaze. "Why King Harold, if I didn't know any better, I would say you are trying to win me over?"

"Is it working?"

His words elicited a giggle from between her pink, plump lips. A behavior she secretly wished had never happened the moment it did. What was he doing to her? She was a shieldmaiden for Gods sake, not a little girl chasing after boys.

She kept her composure as best she could, turning her focus back to Saga who was all for the newfound attention. With a sly grin and a playful shove towards the other horse they had managed to neglect, she said, "I'll consider."