Siren Slave (17 page)

Freya nuzzled him, not wanting to let go of his mane. She wanted to remain with the only one familiar to her, the only one left who really loved her. She thought of all the times she’d rambled to him and felt embarrassed but relieved, too, that he still cared for her. He knew everything about her. That was why she trusted him, though she didn’t like his decision any better.

His lion tail stroked her back. She didn’t think she’d ever felt so loved and warm and safe as now, ensconced in the light of Enbarr’s horn. But… “How am I going to be glad for this…disfigurement?”

“It’ll be made more palatable in a bit. Ah, my Bright Mane, there are still shadows in your heart. We’ve kept too many secrets from you. If you want to know, those Marks will spare you betrothal to a puling elf and will allay your fears over controlling your powers. They’ll help you be right where you want to be.”

“But they’re a curse,” she said.

“Yes, but don’t you think the brilliant workings of He Whose Moonlit Hooves Dance Upon Dreams can change that?
Ah, well. Bright Mane, look around my neck. There’s a large skin of blueberry ale from Morrigan. She thought you might want some.”

Now she really felt loved.

****

Siegfried stopped when he saw the glow ahead. It was like some image from a dream, the lithe woman clinging to Enbarr, her pale mane tangling with his, a long leg draped over his flank. Her Tyrian purple toga was hiked to her thighs from riding astride. Her face was peaceful, eyes closed, a smile on her lips, though tears sparkled on her cheeks, capturing the rainbows, as did her winged band.

Butterflies fluttered from the dark shrubbery like a fountain around woman and unicorn. Watching Siegfried, Enbarr approached. He lowered his head, the horn hovering inches from Siegfried’s heart before he folded his legs.

Freya blinked. She stretched and dismounted, giving Enbarr a kiss just below his horn. “I do feel better, but you better be right.” Enbarr nudged her with his nose, shoving her toward Siegfried.

“I told you to stay in the hut,” Siegfried said, his arms filled with Freya. She smelled of blueberry ale.

She stiffened. “Enbarr, I don’t know what your unicorn magic did to my head, but you made me forget about my
other
problem.
He
cannot solve that.” She jabbed a finger at Siegfried. “You, Etainen, you and Balder couldn’t say a word about what was done to my face?” She looked back to Enbarr. “I really don’t think he’ll take me where I want to go.”

Siegfried pulled her from Enbarr. “Do you know what kind of danger could have happened to you in these woods? What if you hadn’t found the horse?”

“Enbarr said, ‘Two-Legs, Bright Mane’s heart was heavy and confused. Solitude could not be abided. I return Bright Mane to He Who Cannot Sit a Horse with a restored spirit and a heart filled with her usual hope.’ Oh, not so much hope right now, Enbarr. He wants me to tell you, ‘Truth makes for calm waters, Wave Walker.’ Enbarr, why are you calling him Wave Walker? I doubt he’s any better at walking waves than he is at riding a horse. Um, I don’t think it’s possible to walk on water. But if it’s possible to take stuff with you when you die, I guess you could. Wouldn’t it also be really easy to trip with all the waves? Enbarr also says, ‘Enough, Brigh Ma—’ Hey!”

Fear hit Siegfried that Enbarr would be the one to tell Freya. It had to be madness that he was worried about subversion from a—

“Enbarr said he is not a horse. He can hear your thoughts.” She poked him in the chest. “Isn’t that just annoying?”

Enbarr gave her another nudge forward, before she swilled some more of whatever was in the wineskin. “I can’t stay here, not with you. I have a plan and
the horse—
I hope you can hear me, Enbarr—says I should tell you that you’ll probably agree to this.” She scowled at him, anything but happy to see him. Why would the Rome-lover not be pleased to see Etainen?

“You didn’t want this betrothal, did you?”

“No.” A long pause ensued until she looked up at him. “Oh, you want me to tell you why. Even though we share the same passion for togas and horse-ass helmets. You know, I think those helmets are ugly.”

Siegfried laughed, really laughed. It was the first time since Julia and not under the influence of potion. “I prefer breeches to togas.”

“I could understand that. Togas and the skirt things look too much like dresses.” She stuck out her tongue. “Oh, still didn’t answer. From what I heard about Etainen…how to say this, how to say this… I heard you were a bit of a lapdog. I like dogs; I just didn’t want to marry one. I couldn’t respect one.” She was nervous, starting to ramble again.

“And you think I’m a lapdog?” This wasn’t funny. Not funny at all.

“No, so I keep waiting for you to do something like a small dog would do. Not pee on the bedding or devour a shoe, but more like rolling over and asking Pompey to pet your belly or running off to fetch me all kinds of pretty things on my every whim.”

“I see. You wanted some strong Roman, didn’t you? Someone you couldn’t order around like everyone who surrounds you?” He shook his head and sat on a rotting log, sitting her next to him. “I am not going to take you to some Roman.”

“If you’d stop distracting me, I could tell you what my plan is. Though, knowing you, you’d probably take me to some Roman a lot sooner. I did account for you in this plan, you know. Not just me.”

“Then don’t let me interrupt you any longer,” he said with a sigh. This plan was going to be utterly ridiculous, wasn’t it?

“I know you adore Rome just as much as me, but we’re desperate, right? Right. So, we take help from where we can get it. Odilia and Pompey kept saying that Siegfried, you know,
the Fox,
might be around. I know we hate pirates and rebels and all, but we really like our own necks even more. Maybe he’d be able to help us. In fact, I’m sure he could if he’s around. And not dead or mad.” She was frowning, maybe thinking the better of her words. “If he’s dead, if we could find the body, maybe I could guilt my mother into reanimating him. If he’s mad, maybe Hedwig has a potion to fix that. Or the potion would just make him crazier…”

What?
“You’d use Siegfried?”

She snapped out of whatever she was pondering and glared at him from beneath the long bangs she’d pulled over her face, probably to hide the Marks. “Do you think that someone like
him
could be used? We’d probably owe him. Not that I think he could be bought or anything, so I was thinking we could give him something really worth his while.”

“Freya, you’re drunk.” How else was he supposed to respond to this? It seemed that even if she didn’t like him, he—the real him—at least had her respect. “You do know what those Marks mean, I presume?”

“Just listen. I accounted for that, too. Siegfried is like outlaw royalty.” She gave him a look as if he were foolish. “We’d be just plebes to him. Worse than plebes, considering how much we like Rome.”

“Outlaw royalty?” Siegfried said. “Merrick the Black is the Pirate King.”

“Yes, but just the king of
pirates.
Of course, I hate Siegfried. What sane person wouldn’t hate someone who thinks Rome shouldn’t be stripping people to keep them safe? It’s wonderful that government practice can be equated with bawdy ballads. But back to Siegfried. Merrick just robs people—anyone. Siegfried has standards. He inspires loyalty in those he doesn’t even know, because he’s got principles. He won’t force people to fight with him like Vercingetorix does. He wants people to make their own choices.”

“I’ll give you that,” Siegfried said slowly, his hands tightening to fists at the thought of Merrick the Black. So now, it seemed, he was the King of Outlaws. He’d take that.

“But Rome knows one important thing, well obviously way more than just one—everyone has a price. I know I’m no beauty any longer.” She turned her head away, and he caught the sheen of tears on her cheeks. “If he wants my virginity, he can have it.”

“You’re lax with your virginity.”

“Etainen, neck or hymen? If I don’t have my neck, no one is going to want the other, unless there is something incredibly wrong with them. You don’t like me. Don’t know why. But I think you might even hate me. Is it because of Pompey wanting to have me on my wedding night?”

“That might have something to do with it.” He tapped his boot eight times. It was best they had this conversation now.

“You missed my sarcasm, didn’t you?” She gave her feet an exasperated look. “Most people do, and it ends up in confusion all the time, unless you know me well. It’s hard for me to always explain the things I do, much harder now that I have powers I can’t control properly and don’t completely understand. I had to act happy about that, Etainen. What was I going to say? ‘Ew, I don’t want your wrinkled balls anywhere near me?’ My parents agreed to it.” She gave her head a shake, lip curling in disgust.

He didn’t know what to believe about her. In any case, she had been through a lot. “How much was Enbarr able to do for you?”

“I still don’t know everything that happened in Folkvang. I’m confused.” She looked at her hands, as if they’d have some sort of answer. “My parents are dead, and I barely believe it. But I’m still angry with them. They were just going to
give
me to Pompey. Here, have a glass of wine, some food, our best quarters, and our daughter. I shouldn’t be surprised. Most women are Rome’s for the taking. I can’t even cry for them, not a single tear. I tried.”

“You can be angry with them,” he said, waiting to gauge her reaction.

“Good, because I’m still furious. Not sad. Just lots of angry. But my plan…which you didn’t let me finish explaining, yet again, and again distracted me, isn’t to offer him my virginity. He might want it, considering, as the men in the barracks said, ‘women all look the same in the dark.’ We both know what these Marks mean, having read the same literature, it seems. I don’t think Siegfried would mind the water and storm powers I’d give him. I’ll hate the things he’ll make me do, but at least I’ll live. This will really be the key, because he is probably swarmed by women. His price will be no less than complete victory. This price appeals to his principles. I can give him his price. You can promise not to harm him and return to Rome.”

He was just confused. That seemed to be a constant state whenever she was involved, and he didn’t like it. He prided himself on knowing his opponents, on anticipating their moves. But, Freya, she had no logic, no rational pattern.

“And you think Siegfried is equipped to deal with whatever you’re involved with?”

Another eye roll. “Of course. He’s eluded Rome for this long. Besides, he’ll have the fire, er, water power. And you get to go free and wear togas over your breeches. Then you can find someone you really do like, because you won’t be decapitated.” She whispered, “If you were decapitated, you might have trouble with the whole wooing thing. You look like you might be able to make a girl say ‘woo’ a lot. If you didn’t have a head, the ‘woos’ would probably be shrieks of terr—”

“I understand.” Taking her hands, he laughed. It felt good. He liked her silliness; there was not enough of that in his life. Why, oh, why did she have to be a supporter of Rome? But if she was an admirer, that wouldn’t do well either. She’d be trying to convince him to become a farmer. “You did say you had water magic?”

“Yes. I’m a mermaid. Well, not now, but if I switch my legs to a tail—”

He could hardly believe that. “A mermaid?”

“Well, I can make the waters calm or rough, too. I can do more than have a fish-looking tail. I can make whirlpools and water spouts and all that sort of thing. Merrick the Black comes along, down goes his boat.” She made a motion with a hand to mimic a sinking ship. She gasped suddenly, and he could smell the ale on her breath. “You’re not thinking about keeping me, are you? Please, please don’t.” The desperation in her voice was obvious. “You don’t need me.”

“So, you love Romans and would pledge yourself to Siegfried?”

“You know I don’t trust Morrigan, Hedwig, or Balder? And my human friends didn’t show up to help me from the catacombs.”

“So…you’d trust one of your worst enemies with your powers? This hardly has anything to do with Romans at all.”

“Unless some of them know what they could do with me. And Siegfried…he has principles. He’d choose his principles over his neck any day. He’s predictable in his reliability. He hasn’t given up what he’s doing. I think he must be mad, else I think he’d have tried to stop this wedding. But there’s probably a Hedwig potion for that, if he is mad.”

“And you think these principles apply to his enemies?”

“To women and children, yes. I don’t think he’s going to turn his back on what I willingly offer. There’s no one else, nowhere else I can go. I was going to explain this to him, so it wouldn’t be, ‘Oh, Siegfried, you’re stuck with me now.’ I bet he wouldn’t feel that way either. He could use the help.”

She’d had him at “mermaid,” but he wasn’t going to let her know that.

She pointed an accusing finger at him, her other hand on her hip. “You’re not going to take me to him, are you? What can I do to change that?”

He wrapped her hair around his fist and pulled her face close to his. “There is one flaw in your plan. Why would Etainen want to do anything to give the rebels complete victory?”

“Why are you speaking about yourself as if you’re not yourself?” she blurted.

“It’s a good thing I’m not Etainen and definitely not a lapdog. I will keep my promise to you. As you keep saying, I have principles.” He grinned and waited for her reaction, tugging her face closer to his.

“S-Siegfried?” Her face paled under the black lines. She tried to turn away, but he held her firmly.

“Very good, Freya. Now, how does this work? How do I obtain a mermaid of my own?”

She stared at his face for a long moment, eyes glazed, probably from drink. “A pledge. Words, it seems, have powerful magic.” He gave her a nod and she continued. “This is the pledge. Enbarr’s telling it to me, and it’s a little unsettling. We both have to rest a hand on Enbarr’s horn.” He’d almost forgotten about the presence of the unicorn with the distraction Freya had presented.