Doctor Abbott Read online

  Mâvis watched as Ben left and he turned right back to Pierce. He could see the spark in the rookie’s eyes. There was no way he would let an opportunity like that go. The Human would be considered a traitor now. Anyone could put a traitor to death, in fact it would put Pierce back in good standing with their king. Ben would need a personal escort home just to keep him alive and even then, there was no telling what Freyr would do.

  William ordered his guards to stand waiting by the door as he followed Ben out. He paced in front of the human a few moments trying to think on his words, “I am sorry, I do not know what came over me. Please will you come back and try, I would not make it through a single night without my wife.”

  “She’s in rough shape, I honestly don’t know if I am even capable of helping her at this point.” Ben stood with his hands on his hips cursing again.

  The King extended his arm and opened his hand palm up, “You put yourself at great risk to convince me. I am convinced and will be grateful for your efforts regardless of the outcome. I have no other hope for her.” Ben nodded and reached out for William’s hand only to be steered away from the door they had just come out, “We shall return through the servant entrance. It is not safe for you to go through the great hall right now.”

  A few hours later, he was escorted by two guards to a room for the night. Ben found it odd that he was under such heavy watch, yet they never bothered to lock the door. The two warriors on watch were certainly not ones to contend with. Both giants and one with some heavy and grotesque scarring.

  He washed the remaining blood off his hands in a washbasin and it took him a moment to realize he was looking into a mirror on the vanity. Shaking the water off his hands he reached up and tapped the glass to confirm what he was seeing was real. Although hand blown glass was common place here the mirror was the first one he had seen since he arrived, and that was not all that baffled him. King William’s palace was filled with trinkets only humans could have made. The vendors in Freyr’s village had some goods here and there but nothing like this. There were even modern books lining all the shelves in here and there were even more in the room he had tended to William’s queen in.

  Ben took the towel off the hook near the armoire and toweled off, then absorbed the rest of the accommodations. The room had a massive fireplace, flanked by carved tree limbs. The bed was made of rustic log, and was piled high with sheets, and furs to keep off the cold. There was a giant copper tub in front of the fire place, and on the table next to it was a tray of soaps and wash rags.

  Then Ben noticed something he did not expect to see. A bottle of bourbon. He looked around the room for a moment, not even sure that it was for him. There was a tag on it, he flipped it upwards to read, “Well deserved.” No sooner had he let the tag fall than he had the bottle snatched up off the table. Flopping down on the bed he pulled out his newly acquired hunting knife and lopped the top of the bottle right off before taking a healthy sip of the drink and sitting back to read one of the books on the bedside.

  Meanwhile,

  Mâvis scanned William’s entire body, every flinch, every breath ever rumble in the rival king’s voice rang as a lie to the warriors eyes. This beast could not speak the truth if his life depended on it and right now it was getting dangerously close to just that, “His fate is NOT yours to decide! He belongs to Freyr!”

  “If I hand him to you he will not live to see the trail, do you take me for a fool, Mâvis?” William stepped back on seeing the guard tense up. “Even if he does make it home he will be killed for treason, and over what? Because he is stupid and careless? These are not crimes under my rule.”

  “He will make it home with me as escort.” The warning rumble lingered in his tone.

  William laughed, “With you? As much as you hate humans?”

  “How I feel about humans has nothing to do with my duty! I was charged with seeing him here, and I will see he returns, or kill whoever stands in my way!” Mâvis stepped forward only to have nine spears take aim. He did not look at a single blade, instead he peered down the shaft to the owner of each one. Scanning the guards for the best kill to take out first. Most of these warriors he knew, some were from his old village growing up. To take out William’s prize fighters would mean to take out men he respected.

  His eyes landed hard on William again. “You hide behind some impressive warriors. I trained with your best and not one of them is skilled enough to take on me. So why not set aside your bravest and take me on yourself?” He knew the young yet battle weary king would not dare, not with his wife at the mercy of the fates. There would be only one way to resolve this. “I will return with enough arms for the slave and we will see how useful they are then.”

  William nearly laughed at the thought, no one in that village dared take on his warriors. Mâvis may have spent the last two years training them but they were far from ready for a challenge of this sort. Why a prize fighter like Mâvis would even bow so low as to serve the pitiful coward that was Freyr was beyond comprehension. A better warrior would have challenged the weak king for position already. “How is it that you work for Freyr? He is poor and a poor leader. I do not know how his people are not starving to death.” Mâvis did not answer, instead he left with a warning growl that chilled the leader to the bones. Even on his own and surrounded by a court full of trained assassins that warrior was not one to test.

  In the morning, Ben returned to Olivia’s chambers to check on her. The fever was gone and her color looked great. Her dark sweaty fur was dry and soft, showing her rich ginger coloring. He checked her incision and gave instructions to the chambermaids before packing his bags to leave.

  William was already waiting for him in the great-hall, it was empty and Ben was curious as to where the merchants had gone for the evening. There was not a trace of them anywhere. “You did well last night, Abbott. I need to thank you and apologize.”

  “There is nothing to apologize for. You were only thinking about her, and you made the best decision. I expect she will recover within the week or so.” He tried to warm up the mood with a coy smile.

  The king pressed his lips as if to muster up his thoughts. He quickly came to the conclusion that there was no delicate way to put this and looked straight into Ben’s eyes. “That is not what I am apologizing for unfortunately. The merchant party you came with left hours ago. It nearly started a battle here in this room.”

  “What? Why?” Ben’s face lost all color.

  “In your efforts to prove yourself last night you denounced your king in front of his guards. That is treason, they mean to kill you now. You cannot go home.”

  “I have to though, I have a wife there and they will kill her.” He turned away from the king unable to look him in the eye. The realization of his mistake nearly sucking the air out of his chest. “Oh God, what have I done?”

  King William reached for Ben’s shoulder trying to console him with a squeeze as the human dropped to his knees. “I am assembling a party to travel to your village and negotiate for her. You saved my wife. I will not let it cost you yours. I swear to you I will do all I can.” With that, William left Ben to come to terms with the news.

  That night he got no sleep. Tossing and turning with the thoughts of what would happen to Lúta. Unable to take anymore he got up and packed his bag. William had placed two guards outside his door to ensure he would not follow the merchant party, and another by the back window. What he never took into account was the thatched roof. He climbed the large log posts and with his hunting knife well sharpened, it made quick work of the bindings on the thatch. Pulling the straw into the room he let it drop to the bed till he had enough room to scurry out.

  Escaping into the darkness Ben was determined to make it back to Freyr’s village and prove his loyalty in doing so. He marched through the night and well into the next hoping that he could at least keep on the trail in case it snowed again. Finally, he took a break out of sheer exhaustion. He parked himself under a tree and opened the package of
dried meat Lúta had packed for him. Chewing on it slowly he felt himself starting to doze off and slapped at his own face to stay awake.

  Feeling like if he stayed there he would soon find himself passed out, he closed his sack and turned to stand up. A split second before he made it to his feet pain tore through his left buttocks and he fell forward letting out a scream. A few seconds later Bjorn was standing over him readying a second arrow. “Hello, human, good to see you again.” The next arrow went straight into his back. “I would not stay there too long, the wolves will be out soon looking for fresh meat.” Ben watched helplessly as Bjorn’s feet faded from sight.

  A few minutes later, he heard another familiar voice. Mâvis stood looming over Ben. He knew someone had been tracking the caravan. He had just not expected it to be the human. There were not many human’s in this world that were capable of escaping a Joutone hunting party. William’s was nearly half a day behind and had the guards attention for the last day. He had never even seen Bjorn. Not until now, not until it was too late. “Oh, that is a pity, human, you made it so far on your own. I promise this arrow will find a more suitable home.” Ben felt a foot on his back as the arrow that protruded was yanked out and then the one from his ass. This time Mâvis’s feet were the ones he watched fade from vision. He lay there unable to move waiting for death to take over. He cursed silently as he saw the wolves start to appear through the trees, pacing in front of him as he faded from consciousness. Within a few minutes, his body was being dragged out of the snow.

  Chapter 13

  A damp mist hung in the air, as if it wanted to rain but just couldn’t find the strength. Lúta made her way through the market with her basket, looking over the vendors’ carts. She hadn’t had much to barter with since she moved up to the palace with Ben. She had managed to negotiate a stipend from Erica for goods and supplies for Ben’s work and it was nice that she had a little extra to buy a novelty here and there.

  She had just pocketed a beautiful, old book when someone grabbed her arm. When she realized it was Bjorn her heart stopped for a second and she could barely catch her breath. She flinched to free herself from him, but his grip was firm and his claws dug into her arm.

  He leaned in to whisper into her ear. “The human is dead and you are coming with me.”

  She shook her head in disbelief, “No.” At first it came out as a whisper and then she was screaming it as he dragged her out of the market square. “No Bjorn, I loved him! Why?” Finally, as he pulled her into the open meadow she was able to yank her arm free from his grip. She backed up slowly, keeping him in her sights for the opportune time to make a break for it. “I will not go anywhere with you. I am property of the palace.”

  Bjorn stormed back over to her, “Maybe while the human was alive you were, but he is dead now and you belong to me. You were already betrothed, you were already PAID FOR!” He snatched her arm again to drag her with him and she swatted at him in self-defense. The drizzle the skies had been threatening now clung to her hair and fur making it easy to slip from his grasp.

  She took off across the field towards the palace, hoping that if she could make it there that the guards would give her refuge. Pierce stood in front of the gates with his arms crossed over his chest. She tried to go around him and he moved to block her. Lúta pried at his arm and begged, “Let me in, please?” He stood staring at her coldly, silently. “Bjorn is coming for me, I need to get in.”

  Finally the young warrior spoke. “Well then, your traitorous husband should have thought harder on your safety before he denounced his king. Why should I let you in on the chance that you are a traitor as well?”

  “But I am not a traitor, nor was Ben! Why would you say that?” She didn’t have time to wait for his answer. Bjorn had a fist full of her hair in one hand, her arm in the other and was spinning her towards his cottage. She screamed in agony while he dragged her off, with the freezing rain finally letting go.

  She slipped on the ice and struggled to free her hair from his grip as she lay on her back. He released her arm and belted her in the face until she stopped fighting. “There, now perhaps you will remember your place!”

  Lúta tried to choke out a sob and reply to him, as she squirmed and writhed on the ground. Before her mouth could form any words, Bjorn was plowed off her by the broad side of Mâvis’s axe. She was still in too much pain to move but felt the void in the sleet and rain as Mâvis’s figure passed over her to ready another blow.

  It felt like it was all moving so slowly as she managed to roll onto her stomach and watch helplessly as Mâvis took out an unmerciful rage on Bjorn. Mâvis could have easily killed him with any one of those blows but it was clear that he wanted him to suffer. Lúta made it to her knees now feeling sorry for her brother.

  The anger over what he had just done to her quickly forgotten and replaced by the fear that he was about to die. The rain was so thick now that all she could see was Bjorn’s silhouette, while Mâvis’s white hair seemed to take on a ghostly hue.

  Mâvis hauled Bjorn’s nearly lifeless body to his knees; her brother slumped there on his own weight as Mâvis walked over to Lúta and pulled an arrow from his quiver. “Lúta, you belong to me now.” He drew it through his longbow and released it into Bjorn’s head.

  She cringed as she watched her brother flail and fall forward, “No!” She didn’t even realize Mâvis was talking to her as he reached for her arm and hauled her off the ground. Then it occurred to her what he was saying, “No, no Mâvis.” Yanking herself free from his grip.

  He snatched her arm back up again, “I just saved your life, Lúta. Now come with me and let Genie tend your wounds, we can talk more about this at home.”

  “No! You hated my husband and you just killed my brother! I want nothing to do with you! Leave me be, Mâvis!” She glared up at him.

  “I am the only protection you have. If Avery does not come for you someone else will. Who will challenge me? No one! You are not safe at the palace anymore. Not with your husband dead. Who will protect you?”

  He gave her all of a moment to digest his words and then as if he could read her very thoughts, “If you run, I will bind you and bring you back. Ask Genie if you like, I am a very good hunter, you cannot escape me. Now, you will come with me till you find a suitable mate and then you can do as you wish. I honestly do not care after that. But until then you serve under my roof.” His growl lingered long enough to drive home his point. She sobbed and nodded in reply as he shoved her towards his cottage.

  Genevieve sat in awe as Lúta came in the door a bloody and bruised mess, with Mâvis right behind her covered in rain-soaked, blood as well. His wife darted from the table inspecting them both. Mâvis brushed her away as he peeled off his armor, “It is not mine, love.”

  Genie accepted his armor from him and brought it into the back room to be cleaned later, “You are going to tell me whose it is, are you not?” She came back in carrying a soapy bucket and a washrag as she addressed her husband, her focus was on Lúta’s badly bruised and bloody face.

  “Bjorn, I killed him. Lúta will be serving us till she finds a new mate.” Mâvis shoved past his wife and went into backroom himself, to get washed up.

  Genevieve scowled at Lúta, “What happened?”

  Lúta’s eyes teared up, “I do not even know. Bjorn told me he killed Ben and that he was taking me back to my betrothed. I ran to the palace, but the guards said Ben was a traitor and that I was not welcomed there anymore. I have no clue why they would say that. Especially after he saved the queen’s son.” Her sobs took over and she couldn’t hold it together anymore.

  Genevieve pulled Lúta in for a hug, she was moved to tears herself as she kissed her friend on the forehead, “Shhh, you are safe.” She helped Lúta set up the bath in the washroom and returned to find her husband twirling a scroll between his claws. The kings colors were replaced with his own and despite the fact that Genie knew what the document was she had no clue why her husband had it.

  He
was deep in turmoil over what to do next, he had promised her they would only be here a year, just long enough to take revenge for the killing of King Nathan. The first year had evolved into a second it seemed that her husband was without a plan, for the first time since they had met.

  She took hold of her husband’s shoulders giving him a good squeeze to draw him out of his thoughts. “What is it?” She knew the question would give her the answer she was looking for.

  He let out a deep breath and his frustration with it. He was always honest with her. Maybe not as open as he would like to be but she would always get an answer from him. “The title for the human.”

  He offered up the scroll for her to see. She was hesitant on opening it, but as soon as she saw English text she knew what he had done. “Why is this not in Joutone? Freyr cannot read this writing.”

  He could not help but smile, and he knew he should turn and face her, because she would be wondering why he had done it. Instead he quietly waited for her to demand his attention. It would not be a long wait she took his shoulder and shoved him against the back of his seat. Stretching his long form out to show he was enjoying her condescending backlash, he then wrapped an arm around her hips and pulled her to him, “The human would not have lasted long on his own. I meant to take him with us when we leave.”

  His admission infuriated her, but with the human dead it was pointless to worry about now. However her husband’s stunt with the title could be viewed as treason, and despite the fact that her husband was a well-respected warrior even he could not escape a death warrant on treason. No crime was greater in this world, than that of a betrayal to your king and your people. He meant to snatch his document back, but she held it up out of his reach, “Why did you not tell your wife of the risk you put on our heads?”

  He narrowed his eyes and purred, “Do you think it would be wise for me to share such a risky secret with the village gossip?” He pulled her tighter too him and sat up to retrieve his title only to find her reach back and toss it into the fireplace. He had not expected that and when he stood he took her with him plopping her on the table and letting out a growl, “You will owe me for that, wife.”