Viking King (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors, Book 1) (5 page)

She hadn’t offered it as a question because Nathan didn’t speak that language.

He only understood demand.

“Not a second chance because that’s passed for us both.” He looked at the shore then back at her. “I want you with me when we start pulling it up.”

“Why, Nathan.” She frowned. “Never once have you done a thing for the joy of another so please share. What’s this really about?”

“Your expertise.” He shrugged and arched his brows. “Believe it or not, you have a little bit of everything I need for this project. A love for Viking history, over three years’ worth of familiarity with these waters…”

When he trailed off, she narrowed her eyes. “And what?”

“A
need
for this,” he stated softly but firmly.

Nathan might be standing there in khakis and a designer wool jacket, but she could only see him in an expensive business suit. He’d have a leather briefcase in hand and a ‘we’ll just see who wins’ look in his eyes. Yet he knew to this day what she strove for and it was no longer the next great real estate deal.

No, things had changed.

And no matter how much she told herself otherwise, the need to further explore beyond the metal box she’d found only grew stronger. Especially in light of the manuscript and Naðr Véurr’s name being repeated.
Over and over.
The need to learn more about him made her mouth water. And if she’d found that metal box in the rocks on her shore, then chances were good that the sea treasure had something to do with him too.

More and more was coming together that brought
him
closer.

What was his ghost trying to tell her?

Megan almost groaned. Ghosts? Yeah right. Not part of this. Not part of reality. But still she felt herself reaching out to something…someone. It was similar to the feeling she’d had the night before when they’d all been eating and the raven showed up. There was an angle to all of this, a baser feeling that she just couldn’t seem to grasp.

“Like I said, you’ll be part of the lead team going down,” Nathan said. “You and I.”

Ah, there’s the catch.

They
would be a team.

But…what if Nathan’s discovery actually existed?

Megan looked to the sea. “I know what
team
means to you. So do I lead this expedition or not?” She dragged her eyes to his. “And again, what’s in it for you?”

“Yes, you’d lead, mainly once we pulled the artifacts up.” His deceptive eyes never left hers. “What’s in it for me? I think that’s obvious. Treasure.”

“Viking treasure should go to museums,” she said.

His unwavering eyes sparked with something she didn’t much like. “So you
do
think the idea of Viking treasure off these waters isn’t too far-fetched.”

Megan didn’t miss a beat. “Very unlikely. But I honestly don’t think this has anything to do with treasure.” Her eyes narrowed on him. “You bought all the land on either side of me. Why?”

“You especially should know the answer to that, darling. It was a good investment.”

And she had little doubt that he intended to build up around her and rip away half the charm of the area. “I haven’t been your darling for a long time so lose the endearments. You bought everything around here and intend to navigate for treasure in front of
my
house. Sounds meticulously well planned.”

Nathan had the nerve to smirk. “It does, doesn’t it?”

Grasping the railing, she ground her jaw. “You don’t give a crap about treasure. You just want another ‘one up’ on me.”

“Is that what this is,” he said softly.

Before Megan could respond he grabbed her wrist and yanked her against him, hand grasping her chin as his eyes bore into hers. “
Is
that what this is? Maybe I want something entirely different from you this time.”

Megan was about to respond and tell him to shove it up his ass when a raven landed on the railing beside them. Though startlingly large, it didn’t faze Nathan in the least but she knew…the raven meant to support her.

She was safe.

And she needed to see this through.

Though her teeth were still clenched, she felt an undeniable nugget of hope surface. One that most certainly had nothing to do with the tyrant pressed against her. Though tempted to rip her chin away she didn’t. But she did narrow her eyes. “I want in.”

Nathan’s eyes held hers for a long moment before he slowly nodded and pulled away. “Good. My men are ready. We’ll anchor offshore soon.”

He gave her one last look before he strode off the deck, firm words thrown over his shoulder. “We go treasure hunting today.”

Then the raven gave her an equally long look before it launched into the sky and released a loud cry.

Three hours later, Megan stood on the bow of Nathan’s hundred foot fully equipped Luxury Steel Dive Yacht. She should have known he wouldn’t go small. Her sisters, mortified that she agreed to go anywhere alone with him, had decided to join her.

Face to the wind, Amber closed her eyes. “Though I’d rather your ex wasn’t part of this, I’ve got to admit it’s pretty cool.” She opened her eyes and grinned while patting Guardian. “And we’ve got our girl along too.”

“I wasn’t giving him a choice about my dog,” Megan said. “She goes where I go.”

Veronica’s narrowed eyes remained pinned on the men below, mainly Nathan, as she zipped up her white down jacket. “Hellishly cold if you ask me.” She shook her head. “So Viking treasure off the shores of your house is it.” Her sister slanted dubious eyes at Megan. “A little too convenient, wouldn’t you say?”

Definitely…if she hadn’t found the metal box.

But she had yet to share that with them.

“Viking artifacts have been found throughout New England so it’s not an impossible concept,” Megan said.

“Maybe.” Veronica’s eyes swung back to Nathan. “But I don’t like the idea of you going diving alone with him.”

“We won’t be alone.”

“Right, a few of
his
men are going with you.”

“I wish Sean was here.” Amber pouted. “I’d love to see him in his element.”

Megan frowned. “His element is captaining a fishing boat, sis. Tad bit different than sailing a million dollar yacht and sipping cocktails before an afternoon dive.”

Amber eyed her glass of wine. “Hey, Nathan offered and I needed a little something to keep me calm so I don’t push him overboard. And I’m not the one diving,
you
are.”

“Hence me not drinking.” Not that she would within a hundred yards of Nathan. She wouldn’t just push him overboard but chain a few cement blocks to his ankles first.

When he waved that she join him, Megan nodded. “All right ladies, time for me to suit up.” She glanced at Amber. “Keep a tight hold on Guardian’s leash or she’ll jump in after me.”

Amber nodded. “Of course, sis. Stay safe, okay?”

Megan nodded.

Veronica’s face soured. “I seriously don’t like this.”

“I’ll be fine.” Megan patted her on the shoulder. “I’ve done this plenty of times. I know how to handle myself.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” Veronica nodded at Nathan. “It’s his part in all this that worries me.”

Megan gave no response but headed down. She didn’t particularly like his part in this either but she had no choice. There
was
something below this boat. Megan had sensed it when the raven flew in this direction earlier. Since then the feeling had only grown. And the closer they got to this area, the more intense the feeling became. She suspected once she dove it would only increase.

Nathan nodded below deck. “Your suit’s in the cabin.”

The water temperature was below sixty degrees Fahrenheit so she’d be wearing more than usual when diving. Having had plenty of practice, it didn’t take her long to get on the thicker-than-usual full bodysuit with wrist and ankle seals. Megan had made sure she’d tucked the small Viking stone in her cleavage. By the time she joined Nathan again he and two others were already geared up. She donned the rest of her suit including a mask, fins, BCD,
buoyancy control device
, weight system, dive light, regulator, tank and several other items.

As Megan came alongside the guys on the backboard she eyed the sky out of habit. The winds had shifted and the water was choppier than it had been earlier. Though the sun still glittered icy gold off the steel blue sea, the Nor’easter would be coming in sooner than forecasted.

Nathan and the others wasted no time but slid off and vanished beneath the water.

Megan twisted and gave a final wave to her sisters on the upper deck before she followed. Though her excitement grew, she kept a cool head, breathing steady as she sank beneath the Atlantic. As it turned out, this location was fairly deep considering its proximity to the shore. They’d be going down a little less than eighty feet which was twenty feet or so shy of what would be considered a more dangerous deep dive. 

It was nearly noon so the sun was at the best angle to provide visibility. The storm the night before had stirred up the sea but luckily they were dealing with more of a rock bottom at this distance out. Had they gone further it would have turned to mud and visibility would lower sharply. But they weren’t here to admire the underwater landscape.

They were here for treasure.

Megan followed the men and snapped on her dive light about halfway down. Who would have ever thought she’d be trailing her ex-husband into the depths of the ocean to pursue more knowledge of another man. Because she was downright eager at this point…she wanted, no
needed
, to find more connections to Naðr Véurr.

Nearly to the bottom, she slowed when Nathan came alongside and nodded for her to follow. The waters were pretty dark at this depth, but her light made navigation fairly easy. There was a rocky outcrop on the bottom that the other two were already swimming around. Though Megan asked, Nathan had told her nothing of what to expect down here except that it was profound. She knew there would be no remnants of a ship. Even buried beneath a silt or sandy ocean floor, wood was unlikely to remain intact much over a century.

Yet something
was
down here.

Roughly strewn, some sort of debris was scattered along the rock crevices. Upon closer inspection she realized it was mainly metal pieces. Her eyes widened when she shone her light down. These were remnants of Viking weapons! Double edged blades, broad-leafed iron spears, and crescent shaped axe blades amongst other deadly metal devices. But that’s not what had her blinking several times in disbelief. Damn it. These weapons lacked any signs of corrosion which was downright impossible.

She’d been duped.

Or better yet Nathan had.

But he was too smart for this bullshit. So she went back to the theory of being duped. But by
him
. Bastard. She should have known better. What they viewed was clearly dumped here recently by whomever. Based on the gleam of the weapons and wooden handles attached to most of them, it wasn’t all that long ago either.

Megan almost rolled her eyes as the other divers gathered up some of the weapons. Were these guys a bunch of idiots? Unlikely. No, this was obviously all part of Nathan’s elaborate hoax. Yet he wasn’t looking at her with a triumphant gleam in his eyes. Instead, he kept swimming, shining his light as if looking for something.

She was just about to call it quits when a strange sensation rolled through her, an almost indefinable feeling of anticipation. Shortly thereafter, a pulse of water pressure rippled over her. It was almost what one would feel far closer to the surface when a good sized wave passed above. In fact, the water even pushed her forward until she saw around the next bend of rocks.

Megan aimed her light down and squinted.

What the hell?

Though she knew it was against diver protocol, she didn’t bother to let Nathan know where she was going as she swam downward, eyes growing wider and wider until she stopped, stunned. Again, she blinked several times. She couldn’t be seeing clearly. But then maybe this explained the well-preserved weaponry.

Close enough that she could already see the dragon-headed prow was…a Viking longship?

Megan swam down the remaining distance and started traveling alongside the boat. It was in amazingly good condition, its sail recently torn and billowing in the water. Her heart thudded heavily as she did her best to get measurements. By the time she made it to the stern, her breathing was irregular. Larger than any recorded in history, this thing was over one hundred and thirty feet long and not only gorgeously made but remarkably preserved. Even the intricate Nordic carvings lining the hull were fresh and visible.

For all appearances, this ship had gone down days ago if that.

Frenchman Bay and all its many harbors constantly reported on the latest news. Anyone sailing a ship like this would’ve been the talk of not only Maine and the Eastern seaboard but the entire United States if not worldwide. Every historical nautical society worth a grain of salt would have reported this the moment it hit water. In all honesty, a ship this well-made
might
have sailed here from Scandinavia.

If
it had the right crew and more importantly the right captain.

Where did that thought come from? Obviously that wasn’t the case with this boat. News outlets would have covered such an undertaking. Her mind was spinning and her breath so irregular that Megan knew she had to get a grip fast. She was nearly eighty feet down and depending on an oxygen tank. Overexcitement had no place here. So she carefully made her way back to the prow, studying the construction as she went.

Absolutely astounding.

As research suggested, the ship had no big, vertical keel. That meant this piece of perfection was highly maneuverable and could easily penetrate shallow surf. A chill went through her as she thought of Amber’s picture. This particular ship could easily navigate close to her house. If chuckling were an option, she would have. There was no way around it, if this thing came anywhere near her house she would have known and snapped a ton of pictures. She could only imagine how impressive it would have looked on the horizon.

But wow if it didn’t look
exactly
like the ship her sister had drawn.

Megan checked her oxygen level. Pretty soon she’d have to head back up. She turned and looked around. No sign of Nathan and his men. Though she knew better, she was rather enjoying this time alone with such a beautiful ship. She didn’t care if it was a replica or lying in the graveyard of the Atlantic, there was a certain peace here. Nathan and his team would find her soon enough.

So she continued toward the bow, smiling as she drifted alongside the monstrous billowing square sail. Now
this
was the life. Sure, looking up at this sail on the open seas would likely be more exhilarating but there was a haunting beauty in seeing it in the dark depths and privacy of the ocean’s floor. Yet no sooner did she think it than an overwhelming sadness filled her. People had built this beauty and clearly loved it as much as Megan did her own small Viking boat. They’d labored and adored because nothing this grand was built without a great deal of pride and meticulousness.

Then there were the men who sailed her.

Though Megan knew they’d been modern day sailors she could only envision Vikings of the past navigating this great beauty through the Norwegian Sea then past the north of Scotland and Ireland into the riotous and unpredictable waters of the Atlantic. They’d be sea weathering men made of steel and more honor than most guys possessed in one testicle nowadays. 

Naðr Véurr.

Or as the manuscript said…
King
Naðr Véurr.

Megan stopped at the dragon-headed prow and turned back. As she looked down the length of the ship, it almost seemed a dull whitish glow lit everything. This allowed her to see clear to the end as its sail billowed beneath the black sea.

This was a ship that could conquer any ocean.

This
was a ship that could be captained by Naðr Véurr.

She gripped the prow as an unexpected rush of lust tore through her and breathing once more increased. Christ, this was about the last place she should be having erotic thoughts. But she was. And they were far more intense than any before. Megan slowly traveled down the long length of the prow. Thoughts of what she’d read in the manuscript surfaced as readily as bubbles from her oxygen tank.

Naðr had dragon blood in him.

He could shift into a dragon.

History told that the dragon or serpent head on the prow was typically detachable. Superstitious, Vikings believed that the head would frighten away sea monsters. They’d then remove the head when approaching land so they didn’t scare off friendly spirits.

But not this ship.

Wherever it went, so too did its dragon.

Megan stopped, ran her hand along the dragon-prow neck, closed her eyes and drifted down. There was no such thing as dragons. That part of Naðr was purely fictional. The stone nestled between her breasts,
that
was real…and somehow most definitely part of him.

When her feet at last hit the ship’s floor, she opened her eyes. It was as impressive if not more so from this angle. Megan tilted back her head and looked up at the mast and what looked to be about thirty-eight hundred square feet of sail. God, what had this looked like above water as it crested waves with the sun bursting over it?

She sunk until she sat at the prow’s base and simply stared in awe. How many men had oared this ship? Better yet, how many knots did she travel with the right wind? Yet even as Megan stared, the white light faded away. She shook her head but remained calm. To see the ship in its entirety in this darkness shouldn’t have been possible to begin with.