Chapter 42 #2
Her scornful expression shifted into something softer, a slow smile curling her lips.
“What would please me,” she purred, “is something to nibble on. I’ve rather worked up an appetite.
” Signe looked at him expectantly. Did she intend for him to fetch it?
After a brief internal struggle, Jonas padded to the doorway.
Beyond it, he found a pair of unsmiling guards, who looked at him with disdain as Jonas relayed the queen’s request. After a long-suffering sigh, the smaller of the two wandered off, and Jonas slid the door shut.
He turned back to the bed, eyeing the queen’s naked form.
She was lithe, and with her alabaster skin and white-gold hair, she looked like an ethereal creature not of this realm.
Jonas prowled toward her, his intentions clear.
But the queen waved a hand at him, saying, “Not now.”
Jonas blinked furiously at her casual dismissal.
“Come here, Jonas,” said Signe, patting the bed beside her. “Sit.”
His teeth snapped together at the command, and it took every ounce of his will to obey. Reluctantly, he sat on the edge of the bed.
“I did have a matter in mind when I summoned you to my chambers last night,” she said, gaze trailing across his chest. “Before we were…diverted by other things.”
Jonas nodded slowly.
The queen’s glacial-blue eyes met his, and he could not read the expression behind them. “What do you think is the purpose of Volund’s warband?”
His brows dipped low at the unexpected question. “Are you asking if I believe what I’ve been told?”
The queen nodded.
“Do I believe that our purpose is to protect íseldur while the king fights in Zagadka?” He shook his head. “I do not think it true.”
The queen seemed pleased with this answer. She leaned forward and placed a hand on Jonas’s forearm. “And what do you think the warband’s purpose is, darling?”
He licked his lips, choosing his words carefully. “I think you have your own plans for the Corpse Bringers.”
The queen nodded to herself, as though confirming some suspicion. “I can see your ambition. I can feel your anger. You’re a talented, cunning warrior. We have so much in common, you and I.” Her fingers massaged his forearm softly. “Tell me, Jonas, what do you want? Truly want?”
He need not even think about it. Wordlessly, Jonas reached for the talisman hanging from his neck and pulled it over his head. He handed it to the queen, allowing her to examine the three interlocked triangles.
“Family, respect, duty,” he said softly.
“These are the Svik family values. All I seek in this world is to restore my family’s honor.
I must avenge my brother’s death and buy back the family lands that were stripped from us.
” It was strange. The sense of conviction he normally felt had grown somewhat muted.
Perhaps it was only that Jonas had spoken these words so many times.
The queen pressed the talisman back in his palm, then folded his fingers over it. Her eyes met his, and he felt it all through his body.
“What if I told you,” said Signe, “that you could do better. You could have all that, and more. A jarldom—a rank of power. You could have your family lands back and gain authority over those who wronged you.”
A hot, hungry feeling pumped through Jonas’s veins. All his adult life, he’d only yearned for what he’d lost—had never imagined he could do better. But with this queen beside him, the world seemed more like a feasting table.
“Do you want that, Jonas?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” said Signe, pulling him toward her on the bed. “I have need of good men. Cunning men. Warriors who can see beyond the battlefield to the greater picture.”
As Jonas crawled to her, Signe’s eyes roamed hungrily across his straining biceps.
“And our plans have just begun,” said the queen, coming up on her knees and running a soft hand along the planes of his chest. “Soon we shall head north to Rokksgarde and unite with Maester Alfson. Do you recall the Chosen warriors who accompanied you to Nordur?”
Jonas thought of the strange warriors who’d been able to render themselves invisible. The queen’s Chosen, they’d been called, an elite branch of warriors with special gifts. “Aye,” he said, letting his own hands wander along the queen’s pale skin.
“They were only the first of Alfson’s experiments.
In Rokksgarde, our warband will start the next phase of training, transforming into something great…
something unstoppable.” Signe’s fingers slid into Jonas’s beard.
“After you complete the ritual in Rokksgarde, you’ll be promoted to Volund’s second, but it is only the start.
” A smile curved her soft lips. “Stay this path with me, Jonas, and you’ll be granted power beyond your wildest imaginings.
Together, we will avenge your brother and my Yrsa’s deaths. The Volsik sisters cannot live.”
She drew back, her ice-blue eyes blazing. “What say you to this?”
Jonas’s fingertips drifted up the bumps of her spine. “I think,” he said softly, “I find your passion quite catching.”
The queen leaned forward, finally bringing her lips to his. “Good,” she whispered against him. “I’ve found I’m rather hungry for something other than food.”
With a warrior’s speed and strength, Jonas rolled Signe onto her back and pinned her to the mattress. “What does my queen command?”
“Make me scream,” she whispered with dark delight.