Viking Vow Read online

  VIKING VOW

  Viking Academy: Book Three

  S.T. Bende

  Contents

  Back Cover Copy

  Also By S.T. Bende

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Perfekt Order

  Alfheim Academy

  Also By S.T. Bende

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Viking Vow

  Viking Academy: Book Three

  Copyright © 2019, S.T. Bende

  Edited by: CREATING ink

  Cover Art by: Alerim

  * * *

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  * * *

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage system without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  First publication: 2019, S.T. Bende

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Back Cover Copy

  Saga Skånstad knows three things to be true: (1) She’s trapped a thousand years in her past; (2) She’s in love with the heir to the unconventional Valkyris clan; and (3) A vitriolic Viking is hunting her new family . . . and he won’t back down until he’s claimed their entire world.

  With their enemies closing in, Saga and Erik undertake the near-impossible task of raising an army strong enough to defeat their fearsome foes. If they fail, it will mean the fall of Valkyris, the death of their clansmen, and an era of unimaginable darkness. With her new world on the line, Saga will do anything to protect the home she’s come to love . . . even if it costs her the life she never could have imagined.

  Let the battle begin.

  Also By S.T. Bende

  Follow the Valkyris crew in VIKING ACADEMY.

  VIKING ACADEMY

  VIKING CONSPIRACY

  VIKING VOW

  * * *

  Meet the Norse gods, including Axel’s not-so-mythical Asgardian relations in:

  THE ÆRE SAGA

  PERFEKT ORDER

  PERFEKT CONTROL

  PERFEKT BALANCE

  PERFEKT MATCH

  -and-

  THE ELSKER SAGA

  ELSKER

  ENDRE

  TRO

  TUR (a novella)

  THE ELSKER SAGA: COMPLETE BOXED SET

  * * *

  Meet the fairies in ALFHEIM ACADEMY.

  * * *

  Meet the demigods in NIGHT WAR SAGA.

  PROTECTOR

  DEFENDER

  REDEEMER

  * * *

  And introduce your Padawans to STAR WARS!

  Complete list of S.T.’s Star Wars children’s titles

  at http://www.stbende.com/star-wars

  * * *

  Stay in touch with S.T. at www.stbende.com.

  And find pronunciations, translations, and info on all things Asgardian on S.T.’s website at WELCOME TO ASGARD.

  * * *

  Want more information on upcoming books?

  Sign up for S.T.’s newsletter

  -and-

  Join the RagnaRockstars Street Team – our readers’ private Facebook group.

  To the modern-day Vikings — never stop dreaming, innovating, adventuring, and inspiring.

  Chapter 1

  MORNINGS IN VALKYRIS WERE never dull. Between the warriors’ pre-dawn workouts, the dragon riders’ training runs, the prophets’ meditations, and whatever the shieldmaidens did in their über-secure compound on the north of the island, things were rarely calm. But in the month that had passed since the attack on Valkyris East, things had grown even crazier than usual.

  Because God forbid Vikings rest. Ever.

  These days, when I traded the warmth of my third-floor academy suite for the significantly less comfortable outbuildings, I found even more madness than usual. Blacksmiths scurried to their stations, intent on crafting new swords before breakfast. Woodworkers carried sections of newly built longboats from their shop to the beach. And every able-bodied Viking was either running laps around the training field or perfecting their technique with a sword, axe or bow. War was coming. . . and we would be ready.

  Though we were well into April, a thick layer of snow still covered the ground. My boots sunk into the icy terrain as I trudged toward Outbuilding Two—home of my daily morning training sessions with Erik. As heir to the Valkyris chiefdom, Erik took our tribe’s security very seriously. For the last few months, we’d been putting in two-a-day workouts with swords, sticks, and spears. We were determined to end Clan Bjorn’s reign of terror for good.

  “There you are.” Erik looked up as I stomped the snow off my boots and stepped into Outbuilding Two. “I was starting to worry.”

  I removed my cloak and hung it by the door. “I bumped into Katrin on my way downstairs. She had a question about the action plan, and I lost track of time.”

  Erik pulled a stick from the rack on the wall. He weighed it in one hand before trading it for another, shorter model. “Everything okay?”

  “It’s fine. We’re just finalizing the logistics for the conversion teams. Sticks today?”

  “Ja. I want you to start working with two.”

  “At the same time?” I was barely competent with one. Last week I’d hit my head so hard, my dizziness had lasted more than an hour.

  “You’ll be fine. Just extend your arm farther when you spin behind your back.” Erik leaned the stick against the wall and removed his tunic. He preferred to train shirtless, a lifestyle choice I had zero problem with.

  I mean, just look at him.

  My eyes slid from Erik’s broad shoulders down the firm lines of his chest before settling on eight distinct abdominal muscles. Shirtless Erik was a sight to behold. If we weren’t fighting to avoid the destruction of our entire world, I’d lock the door, throw him to the ground, and—

  “Saga?”

  “Mmm?”

  “You going to be able to focus or do I need to put my shirt back on?”

  I reluctantly lifted my gaze from Erik’s perfect abs. Amusement danced in his sky-blue eyes, sending a wave of heat from my neck all the way to my ears.

  “I can focus,” I muttered.

  Erik chuckled, crossing the training room in long strides and pulling me against his naked chest. Those abs pressed against my torso as he leaned low to brush his lips against mine. “Forgive me, min kjære. I didn’t say good morning.”

  I slid my arms around Erik’s neck and wrapped my fingers through his shoulder-length, blond hair. “Morning.”

  All thoughts of training were wiped from my mind as I lost myself in Erik’s kiss. He had a way of making me forget everything else—even
the vitriolic Viking clan hell-bent on seeking our demise. But all too quickly Erik pulled away, stepping back to retrieve a handful of sticks that were nearly as tall as I was. I tried not to whine as he pushed two at me.

  I took the weapons with a sigh. “Let me guess. Train now, make out later?”

  “Something like that.” Erik tossed one of his sticks into the air and caught it with his other hand. I followed him to the center of the room, transferring my own weapons so I mirrored his hold.

  “So, how do I do this exactly? And more importantly, why?” I spun the stick in my left hand. “Can’t I just keep working with my dominant hand?”

  “You could,” Erik said. “But you’ll be twice as effective this way. You can take out multiple threats at once, defend yourself from both sides simultaneously, and . . .”

  “And?” My breath caught as Erik stepped closer. My eyes were level with his pecs, and it took a tremendous amount of self-control to not stare at his perfect chest.

  God, he’s gorgeous.

  “And . . .” Erik leaned down to murmur in my ear. “You look unspeakably beautiful doing it. So, let’s get started.”

  When he put it like that . . .

  “First thing we’ll do is work on your weaker hand.” Erik dropped one of his sticks on the ground and demonstrated a simple twirl. “One hundred rotations, clockwise in front.”

  “Got it.” I opened my left palm, dropped my stick, and placed my hand on my hip. With my right, I shifted the remaining stick to its center point and circled my wrist in a clockwise direction. One, two, three, four . . .

  Erik stood with his arms crossed in front of me. “Relax your knuckles,” he advised. “And extend your arm just a bit more or you’re going to hit your—”

  “Ouch!” I dropped my stick and rubbed the back of my head. I’d either have a bruise or a welt by lunchtime. “That hurt.”

  “I’ll bet. Pick it up and go again from one.”

  “No sympathy?”

  “Pain is an efficient teacher. Go again.”

  I picked up the stick and began my circles. This time, I got to sixty-three before I clocked myself in the jaw.

  “Ow!”

  “Extend your elbow.” Erik gripped my arm between two fingers and made the adjustment. “And set your angle a few degrees closer to forty-five. You’re defaulting to ninety, and it’s minimizing the margin of error.”

  “So here?” I shifted my hand so it aligned more with my shoulder than my nose.

  “Better.” Erik stepped back. “Try again.”

  My third attempt ended with me on the ground cradling a newly bruised kneecap. My fourth nearly cost me an ear. But on the fifth, after yet another adjustment from my unsympathetic coach, I made the full one hundred rotations without injuring myself.

  Success.

  “Now counter-clockwise. One hundred rotations, go.”

  I raised a brow as I spun the other way. “No congratulations? Way to go, Saga, you nailed it?”

  Erik’s impassive face was all the answer I needed.

  Harumph.

  “Fine.” I spun faster. “Then tell me what’s going on with the watch huts. I could have sworn the one opposite my window was glowing last night.”

  “My mother asked the älva keepers to reinforce the island’s magical protections.”

  “Again? Ouch!” I dropped my stick as a hot burn ebbed from my shoulder down my arm.

  “Start over from one.”

  “I know,” I grumbled. I picked up my stick and began again. “What happened this time?”

  “Your angle was too high. You need to keep your arm parallel with—”

  “I mean what happened with the island? Why did Freia ask the keepers to increase security?”

  Erik grimaced. “There’s a very remote possibility that Clan Bjorn may be in possession of a dragon.”

  My stick clattered to the ground. “How did they get a dragon? We’re supposed to be the only ones who have them.”

  “I don’t know.” Erik bent to pick the weapon up for me. “At this point it’s merely a rumor—none of our scouts have any confirmed visuals, and I’m disinclined to entertain it as even a far-fetched possibility. But if it does turn out to be true, and if that dragon gets anywhere near Valkyris . . .”

  He held out the stick and I took it, all the while scanning his face.

  “It’d be bad, huh?” I asked softly.

  “We don’t want any holes in our defenses. We weren’t shielded from the air because we didn’t think we needed to be. But if they actually do have a dragon . . .” Erik let out a low whistle. “Anyway, the shield is a full dome now. We’re completely undetectable.”

  “Why weren’t we before?”

  “We figured we were safe so long as all sight lines from the mountains were shielded. We never asked the älva for a full blocker because we don’t want to overextend their magic. But we’ll conserve elsewhere—Bjorn’s threat is too dangerous for us to handle things ourselves.”

  “And that’s coming from the most industrious—and intimidating—group I’ve ever met.” I shook my head.

  “Ja, well. Hard work can only get us so far when dragons are involved.”

  Preach.

  “My mother ordered an increase in border patrols as well. Axel’s doubling the number of riders assigned to airborne scans, and I’ve reconfigured our ground teams’ assignments. If an unauthorized presence shows up anywhere remotely close to the island, we’ll know about it. And we’ll take them out.”

  I resumed spinning my stick. I’d known things were serious, but this was the first I’d heard about the new protection measures. Erik always stressed that every member of Valkyris was expected to carry their weight, and though he’d been nothing but supportive during the weeks I’d been working with Katrin on our action plan, my stomach suddenly roiled with the fear that I wasn’t doing enough. No matter that we hadn’t identified persuasive arguments unique to every prospective clan as of yet. We had plenty to get started on, and we had more than enough reasons to not delay dispatching a team to begin converting new members to Valkyris. If Bjorn had a dragon, it was imperative that we bring as many tribes as we could under our purview. Fast. Katrin and I hadn’t intended to present our Action Plan for Conversion—the A.P.C.—to Erik, Ingrid and Axel for a few more days, but if the threat was that severe . . .

  “That’s a hundred,” Erik said. “Now pick up your other stick, and we’ll start two-handed rotations. Extension will be key here, but try not to lock your elbows or—”

  I reached out to grasp his forearm. “We need to meet. You, me, Axel, Ingrid, and Katrin. We need to move our departure date up and get to work. Now.”

  Erik frowned. “I thought you wanted more time to finalize your findings.”

  “We’ll focus on the clans we have sufficient data on. If Bjorn has the number of warriors we’ve been hearing about; if your mom’s increasing magical protections and upping the border patrol . . . then it doesn’t matter if it’s perfect. Good enough will have to do.”

  Erik studied me, probably wondering if I meant what I’d said. I’d made no secret of my desire to make the A.P.C. absolutely flawless. If successful, it would be the single greatest contribution I made to my adopted clan—the document by which we shifted a mostly barbaric world to the civilized, egalitarian value system currently unique to Valkyris. It could mean the difference between annihilation and winning the upcoming battle with Clan Bjorn. It could usher in a brand-new regime—one in which Vikings traded their practices of brutal raiding and enforced servitude for enlightened exchanges and merit-based leadership. It could secure Erik’s family’s legacy, and immortalize his parents as the leaders who gave all citizens of the northern territories the opportunity to rise to their fullest potential, regardless of gender, birth station, or tribe. If our report did what Katrin and I hoped it would, well . . . it would change everything.

  “Are you sure you’re ready?” Erik asked.

  “Set up a meeti
ng,” I declared. “I’ll talk to Katrin, and we’ll be ready to present what we have after dinner tonight. We can take off as soon as you think we’re ready.”

  “Sounds good.” Erik picked up both of my sticks and thrust them at me. “Now get back to work. If we’re going into potentially hostile zones sooner rather than later, I want you to have every defensive option available to you. And I can’t teach you double swords until you’ve mastered double sticks.”

  “Double swords?” Was he serious?

  “Do it, Saga. Double rotations, one hundred in each direction. Go.”

  With a sigh, I squared my shoulders and extended my arms. Only when I’d successfully managed fifty rotations did I chance a look at Erik’s face. On the surface, he was the picture of calm, his calloused fingers stroking his neatly trimmed beard. But I knew him well enough to pick up on the slight twitch of his eye, and the tense set of his jaw.

  My stoic, fearless Viking, was worried.

  And for that reason alone, I was too.

  Chapter 2

  AFTER DINNER, ERIK, AXEL, Ingrid and Katrin met me by the grand staircase. When Erik’s parents had heard we were planning to meet in the war room, they’d offered to let us use their family quarters. We’d be more comfortable there, Freia had promised, plus we’d have full access to the kitchen staff who were perpetually on call for Valkyris’ ruling family. What she didn’t say—out loud, at least—was that if we were in her suite, she and Halvar could listen in . . . and veto any parts of our plan that might be too risky. Erik had frowned at their offer—he probably wasn’t happy with his parents looking over his shoulder. But I’d accepted before he could object. The Halvarssons had literally built Valkyris from the ground up—they’d drafted every law and overseen every battle. They knew not only Valkyris, but the rest of the allied tribes inside and out. They’d know if Katrin and I had hit the mark . . . or if our action plan was likely to get one—or all—of us killed.