A Meeting of Wolves: A Viking Omegaverse Novella by Lyx Robinson

Author:Lyx Robinson [Robinson, Lyx]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2021-12-20T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIVE

In the stables stood a great white stallion, radiating the calm strength of a giant. Alsvithr. He was Vírún’s stallion; Olaf had picked him out for her as a wedding present. His white coat was doubtless a symbol of the peaceful alliance that united them.

I yanked the bit into his mouth. Right then I could not abide peace. Olaf was on his little cloud, huddling up with his wife-to-be, fantasising about the good grounded life that lay ahead of them both. He was content, and his simple contentment made me crave violence.

If I was not setting a torch to the great hall’s thatched roof, it was only because of the love I bore my brother. But my fingers itched to spill fire, eyes drawn to the torches on the walls.

The white stallion bent to my commands as easily as anything. We trotted out through the main courtyard and along the snowy, beaten-earth roads of Dublin. The light seeping through sleepy farmhouse windows illuminated us, hearthfires kept kindled all through the night. The thick coating of snow on the fields and roofs was almost bluish in the darkness.

Not many would follow me if it meant leaving Dublin, leaving Olaf. But there were those Dubliners who were true disciples of Freya, like me. We had already met to discuss Olaf’s change of heart multiple times. It would be enough to form a band to travel with, once the snows melted and spring brought with it the opportunity for adventure.

All I had to do was visit those faithful karls and tell them… tell them I had made my decision.

We would leave come the spring.

My hands trembled around the reins. The thought of leaving my brother… I had never ventured anywhere without him.

I clenched the reins tighter. It was just the winter cold making me shake.

I was not afraid. I could survive without Olaf. I could thrive without him. He had only ever held me back. Without him… I could prove my worth at last.

All heroes wandered alone.

“Come on… get a hold of him!”

There was rustling and shouting behind me. Whatever was happening scared a herd of black sheep – they scurried past me along the road, making Alsvithr snort and chuck up his head. I collected him and halted, one hand on my sword hilt, squinting behind myself at the commotion.

Men were regrouping on the main road, surrounding whoever it was they’d been chasing. I recognised about a dozen of Vírún’s Jomsvikings, who’d clearly been at the mead tonight.

“Makes me sick,” one of the large bearded men growled, stepping into the centre of their circle, where a single youth stood. “You think you’re so high and mighty now, don’t you? Just because you have the Jarls’ blessings? We all know who you are. Princess Vírún picked you out of the mud and you pretend your stinking coat of shit is spun gold.”

“Giving himself airs,” another said. “Just because the princess enjoys being stuffed full of Viking cock.”

“Don’t you dare,” snarled the youth. “Don’t you dare speak of Princess Vírún in that way.

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