Chapter Thirty

S he was a fucking queen!

No, she was better than a queen; she was a goddess.

She was Freyja, goddess of love, war, life, and death. She had won his heart, and he would love her until his dying breath. She had waged a fierce battle of wills with the king of England, and she was prevailing. She'd wagered for Red's life at the risk of her own death. His heart was on the verge of exploding with pride for this woman that he did not deserve.

He wanted to go to her, to take her in his arms and tell her he loved her, but he dared not distract her. She was still facing the king and queen, unaware that he had been led into the Hall, though still flanked by guards ready to cut him down with their swords if he proved a threat.

His arms felt like they'd turned to stone after being suspended since the prior day, and he was flexing his fingers to get the feeling back in his hands. Definitely not much of a threat. Yet.

Not more than an hour had passed since he'd watched Galiena enter the hall from across the castle yard. His instructions to her, and to Bard and Ox that she was to stay away, had been clear. He did not want her anywhere near The Executioner when he could not be with her to offer his protection.

In truth, he'd had a deep foreboding that he would not be able to convince the king Sir Grogan was innocent in a plot to hobble the king's authority over the Marcher lords. And he'd had an even deeper foreboding the king would not be sympathetic toward his reason for wanting to kill the queen's cousin with his own hands.

Regardless of what was to happen to him, he did not want Galiena to be punished for his actions. He'd tried to convince Ox, Bard, and Wolf that they needed to take her from Llanbadarn and leave him to face whatever consequences would come of it. They had refused, insisting Galiena had resolutely rejected their attempts to make her leave. Instead, she'd put up a fierce fight. Red had wanted to chastise them for bending to her will, but he knew well that holding her back was about as easy as trying to force a hissing kitten into a burlap sack.

Still, when he'd seen her walk through the castle gates, his relief had been immeasurable. He'd feared The Executioner would try to get to her when he was thwarted from killing him. Even so, not knowing what The Executioner had planned caused his sanity to teeter on the verge of splintering, especially when he watched her walking into the hall.

But then she'd kissed her hand and held it over her heart, while her lips formed soundless words—words that he'd convinced himself were her affirmation of love. He'd decided then that he had to trust in his kitten. She was intelligent, cunning, and fierce. With her resolute stance, the determined look on her bewitching face, and the luxuriant rope of hair flowing down her back, she looked as fierce as Freyja. Now, as she faced down The Executioner and stood up to the king, he thanked his hamingja that Galiena had chosen his arms to run into when she needed protection.

He couldn't hear what Galiena was saying, but he could see her bent over the table with quill in hand. The king directed his attention at Red and signaled for him to come forward.

The Executioner was looking at Galiena with death in his eyes, and Red's palms itched to wrap around the man's neck as he walked closer to the dais, stopping within arm's reach of where Galiena sat with her back to the hall. Ox and Bard stood at the side of the dais, watching everything as it unfolded. Wolf had entered the hall with Red but stayed back when the king beckoned Red to come forward.

He'd moved within earshot of Galiena just in time to hear her solve the riddle of the meeting location and saw the king studying her intently as she pressed him to hold up his end of the bargain. Edward looked up over her shoulder at Red, then returned his attention back to her. "What is it you want from me?"

"I want you to listen to a story."

The king and queen both looked taken aback at the peculiar request. "A story?" the king asked skeptically.

"Yes, Sire. It is a story about a young boy—Red, as a matter of fact—who survived an encounter with a man known as The Executioner, after watching his mother and uncle be assassinated by the man."

Galiena had yet to notice Red was standing behind her, so intent was her focus on showing the king and queen her method for deciphering the message. From where he stood, he could see the king was duly impressed. The queen was maintaining a straight face, likely because this did not bode well for her cousin and trusted advisor.

"Go on," the king encouraged.

She repeated the details of the story as he'd told her, including the revelation that The Executioner had stolen a dagger during the encounter. "It was one of a pair of daggers made by Red's uncle, both engraved with that symbol of the intertwined snakes, Odin's knot, in a design of his making. You saw that same design as depicted on the original missive." She tipped her head toward the parchment on the table. "By coincidence, divine intervention, or the work of a hamingja —as Red would say—I ran into the arms of Red as I was trying to escape the very same man who killed Red's family twenty years ago. The Executioner was the man in the alley discussing the plot to kill your son."

The friar's gaze was shifting between Galiena, Red, and the king and queen, his increasing discomfort visible on his pale face. Red watched the man bedecked in the typical attire of a friar with a brown tunic, belted at the waist, and a long cowl with a deep hood draped over his shoulders. As was also typical of a friar, his hands were folded beneath the cowl in what was meant to be a pious posture, but Red feared it was not a rosary that he had hidden under the long flap of the cowl.

"And do you know where this… executioner …is now?" the king asked Galiena.

Red kept his gaze focused sharply on Friar Ferrando, watching his every move. If he made even the slightest motion toward Galiena, Red would have the man's neck in his hands before anyone could stop him. He'd likely be killed by the guards for attacking the queen's cousin, but he would make sure the evil friar's neck was broken before that happened.

From the corner of his eye, Red saw Galiena slowly nod in response to the king's question. The veins in the Executioner's neck bulged, as his gaze darted around the hall.

The king picked up Red's dagger, which had been sitting on the table between him and the queen. He turned it over in his palm, admiring the intricate work. "Fenrir, from Norse mythology," he said matter-of-factly. "Doomed to live in chains because it was known that only evil could be expected of him." As the king walked slowly around the table toward Red, the evil friar started backing away from the table.

Red noticed the queen's guards flanking the door to the tower had stepped together, effectively blocking the door. The contingent of castle guards were lined up at the end of the hall with several stationed near the main doors as they watched the drama unfolding on the dais. Even if they could not hear what was being said, it was obvious from everyone's posture that the meeting was tension-filled.

As the king circled the end of the table and stepped down from the dais, Galiena turned to watch Edward approaching and then noticed Red standing behind her. She let out a gasp, then pushed to her feet and started toward him. For the length of a breath, Red turned his attention from The Executioner to Galiena, but his warrior instincts still prevailed. From the corner of his eye, he saw the friar pulling his hand out from beneath his cowl.

"No!" Red shoved King Edward to the side and launched himself at Galiena, tackling her and wrapping her in his arms as he twisted to protect her from the impact when they hit the wooden planks of the dais. The chair she had been sitting on toppled and skidded to the side in the mayhem, and Red felt his head connect with the edge of the table on the way down to the floor, and pain radiated through his shoulder.

"Are you hurt?" he asked Galiena in a strained voice and tried to roll onto his back in case The Executioner tried anything else. Oddly, he couldn't completely make contact with the floor; only then did he realize the burning he felt was from the embedded blade of the dagger.

"I am fine," she panted. "Are you hurt?" She rolled to her feet and reached for him.

"I'll be fine," he grunted, looking around him to get his bearings as the sounds of shouting and scuffling boots filled the hall. Over Galiena's shoulder, he saw Bard kneeling down to assist them, while Ox stood with his feet braced apart, ready to fight anyone who came near them.

"Take her away from here, Bard," Red said, pushing Galiena into Bard's arms as he sat up.

"You have a—" Bard started to say, pointing to his shoulder.

"I know. Leave it." He grimaced.

"What are you going to do, Red?" Galiena asked in a panicked voice as she looked up at Red with wide eyes.

Instead of answering her, he grabbed her chin with his thumb and forefinger and kissed her quickly. "I love you."

The noise around them had died down except for muffled grunts. Red got to his feet to see the queen surrounded by her guards, and The Executioner being restrained by more guards. The king was staring at the man, his expression like thunder as he ominously flipped Red's dagger over and over, catching it neatly in his hand after each rotation. He leaned to the side to look at the dagger protruding from the back of Red's shoulder, then stepped behind him to inspect the hilt.

"I believe we have found the missing dagger," the king said.

"Aye, Sire," Red acknowledged as the king circled back in front of him.

"Do you have a preference as to which one we use?" the king asked, his voice like ice.

Red tilted his chin toward the dagger sticking out of his back.

"I agree," the king said with an approving smirk, then raised his voice to call across the hall, "William, send someone for the surgeon."

After the guard had dispatched someone, the king motioned for him to come forward.

"Yes, Sire?" the guard asked. "How may I serve you, Your Grace?"

The king gestured to him, and the guard's gaze met Red's. "I wish to introduce you to Red." Turning to Red, he said, "This young soldier is William. He was on guard duty during the night."

Red nodded to the soldier.

"On the castle wall," the king added, looking pointedly at Red. "You see, on still nights, such as last night after the storm had passed, sound carries, and he overheard a most interesting exchange between you and a cloaked man."

Understanding dawned. This man had saved his life. "I have you to thank, then, for the drunk soldiers who stumbled from the tower and then camped out along the wall until morning."

William blushed with embarrassment. "Aye. I recruited some mates from the guard tower. I'm pleased our ruse worked."

"So am I," Red said with a chuckle. "Any later and this knife would have been stuck in my neck last night instead of my shoulder now."

"Fresh wound," William grinned. "According to what I overheard, your mother would say it means you are still allowed to take your revenge."

"Aye, she would," Red said. Truth be told, he would have preferred to kill The Executioner himself, but he would have to be satisfied with whatever the king chose to do with him. The fact that he would use the same knife The Executioner had used to kill Red's mother and uncle, and apparently, every victim after would have to satisfy him.

"I must speak to the queen while we await the surgeon," Edward said, "and it appears you have someone on the edge of her patience waiting to speak to you."

Red turned to see Galiena standing a short distance away with Bard and Ox at her sides. She had tears on her cheeks, a grim set to her quivering lips, and her eyes were blazing. He wasn't sure if she was overwhelmed with sadness, joy, or irritation.

He held out his good arm to her and she immediately came to him, wrapping her arms gingerly around his waist and reaching up to kiss him. He kissed her back, then pressed his forehead to hers when she broke off the kiss. "I was so scared for you, Red."

"There was no reason to be scared when I had you fighting for me."

She pulled her head away from his so she could look him in the face, anger flashing in her silver-gray stare. "What were you thinking, jumping in front of a knife? You could have gotten yourself killed!"

"I was thinking of you," he whispered, wrapping a hand around her neck to bring her face close to his. "I am nothing without you."

"And I am nothing without you," she said, as a soft sob escaped her lips.

"Kiss me, Wife ."

She pressed her lips to his, kissing him gently, breathing life into him again. After a moment, she broke off the kiss. "Red?"

"Yes?"

"I'm still not your wife," she said, unable to hold back her smile. "Just declaring it doesn't make it so."

"You're right, kitten. You have to declare it, too."

"Let us retrieve that dagger," the king said, interrupting them. He was standing at their side with the surgeon, who directed Red to a stool at the table.

Red gave Galiena a squeeze before he let her go. "We'll finish this discussion when the surgeon is done, but I know that you love me and—I will have your declaration," he said, brushing a knuckle under her chin.

"That's a bold assumption, Viking," Galiena called after him as he sat on the stool and leaned over the table.

The surgeon pulled an iron from his satchel and handed it to William, nodding toward the hearth along the side of the hall that butted up to the castle wall. "Stoke the flames and set the end directly in the hottest part of the fire."

Ahead of him, Red could see the friar sitting in a chair near the back wall of the dais while two men restrained his arms, and another leveled a sword at his chest. His face, which had been purple with murderous rage not that long ago, was now a pale mask of arrogant defiance. He stared back at Red with glittering black eyes.

He was relieved when the king stepped into his line of vision, effectively blocking his view of the despicable friar. Though, he wouldn't truly feel at ease until The Executioner was chained to a wall awaiting his slow and painful death.

"Tell me, Red, what declaration do you await from Galiena?"

It was not the question Red was expecting from the king. He grimaced as the surgeon prodded his shoulder but managed a chuckle. "To declare me her husband. I've declared her my wife, but she believes it to be in jest only."

"She is a woman with her own mind."

"Aye, Sire, that she is." It was what he loved most about her.

"Galiena, come, stand by my side," the king commanded. When she had skirted the table and was standing next to Edward, he said, "Is this true? Do you think him to be jesting?"

"It is a complicated situation," Galiena said, clutching her hands together in front of her so tightly her knuckles were white. Red found it amusing that she would still be nervous with the king after all that had transpired in the last hour.

The king held up his hand to stop her from saying more. "Do you love the Viking?

A terrible stinging ripped through Red's shoulder, robbing him of his breath. Fortunately, Galiena's attention had been on the king, and she hadn't witnessed his response to the pain, but her gaze flew to him at his indrawn breath, concern etched on her face.

"I am fine, kitten. The worst is over," he said, stealing a glance at the dagger the surgeon had dropped onto the table, the blade slick with his blood.

Her eyes widened as something behind him caught her attention. Red swiveled his head to see William walking toward the surgeon with the cauterizing iron in his hand, the tip glowing red.

He may have been too hasty in saying the worst part of this was over. He turned his attention forward and clenched his teeth in preparation for what was to come. He would not give The Executioner the satisfaction of hearing him react to the pain.

"The king has asked you a question, Galiena," Red reminded her, focusing his attention on her instead of what was about to happen.

"Do you love the Viking?" the king asked again, and Galiena turned a pale face in his direction.

"Yes, Your Grace," she admitted. "I do love him."

Red felt his lips tug into an involuntary smile. He was quite sure she'd expressed her love for him when she was entering the hall to meet with the king, but the distance had been far, and he worried he may have dreamed it in his half-crazed state.

"And do you want him as your husband?"

Galiena turned to look at Red, her expression softening as she focused on his face. "I do want him as my husband."

Red closed his eyes, his teeth near to cracking as he clenched them against the scalding pain when the surgeon pressed the iron over the wound left by the dagger thrown by The Executioner.

"Say it again," he bit out in a low voice, his teeth still gritted as the smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils.

Galiena grabbed Red's hands in her own, squatting down so her face was even with his across the table. "I choose you, Red. I want to be with you, and no one else."

The surgeon applied a salve to the burn that did little to dull the stinging of his flesh, but her words were a balm to his heart. And his soul.

"There has been no one else for me since you ran into my arms, accused me of being drunk, and called me ‘Husband'." Red pulled their joined hands toward him and pressed his lips against the back of her fingers. "From the moment I looked into your eyes, I knew I would do whatever it takes to have you as my wife."

The surgeon stepped back from the table, his work completed. Red stood and walked around the table to Galiena, placing his hand on the small of her back and positioning his body so that The Executioner could no longer see her. He wanted to get Galiena out of the friar's sight and far away from the man as soon as the king allowed.

"Red and I have unfinished business. I want you to leave us, and I will return him to you within the hour," King Edward told her then.

Galiena looked to Red, her face paling.

"It will be all right," Red assured her. "Ox and Bard will take you back to the house. Wolf will wait outside and return with me."

"Galiena," the king said as she turned to leave. "You are brave and clever. The queen and I are indebted to you for endangering your life to save the life of our son and the heir to the throne. Thank you."

Red knew that thank you was not something the king said often, and he doubted Galiena truly understood the depth of the king's gratitude. But she said, "You are welcome, sir. I am only sorry the queen had to endure the shock of discovering her cousin was behind the plot."

"As am I," the king responded.

Galiena performed a graceful curtsey and Red watched her she backed away respectfully along with Ox and Bard at her side, before they reached the door and left the hall. Once she was away, he turned his attention back to Edward. The queen had come to stand by the king, her guards at attention a short distance away.

"We have William's accounting of what happened last night, but I want to hear it from you."

Red explained in detail everything that had transpired and everything he had learned, but he did not have any satisfactory answers as to why Ferrando would betray his cousin the queen, or the extent of the plot to undermine the king.

"Wait here," the king instructed Red, turning to stalk toward The Executioner with the queen and her guards behind him.

While the king interrogated the friar, Red picked up both daggers from the table, wiping the blade of the bloody one on his breeches to clean it. He looked at them both side by side, one in each palm, running his thumbs over the smooth hilts, clear memories of his mother and his uncle rushing back to him. He had mourned them every day of the last twenty years, longed for their counsel at times, and regretted the things they had missed because their lives had been cut short.

His mother had never had an easy life, abandoned with a babe in her belly by a man who cared only for her beauty and nothing for her. As a boy, his purpose in life had been to make his mother's life easier. And when his uncle had gotten hurt, he'd wanted to do the same for him. But he'd been too young, too naive, and he had failed.

He was older, wiser, and stronger. He would not fail Galiena.

Seeing The Executioner defeated while the king of England hovered menacingly over him provided a small measure of satisfaction. But Red wouldn't breathe easy until the man was dead and no longer a threat to Galiena.

Red was impatient to go to her, and he was uncertain why the king had not dismissed him already, especially after he'd heard the details of Red's encounter with Ferrando. He had no other information to offer, and being in the same room as The Executioner sickened him.

To know the man had been contracted to murder them somehow took some of his desire for revenge from his heart. Or perhaps he only felt that way because he knew The Executioner's time was now short. It didn't matter. He didn't care what the man had to say anymore; he'd heard enough from him. But as the friar's voice grew louder, it was impossible to ignore the way he was practically spitting out the words, spewing his hatred and jealousy of the queen, and his resentment of the king. In his mind, they were the reason why he didn't have the riches and respect he felt he deserved. He'd become an assassin because he enjoyed the kill and the coin he received for his services. He'd earned even greater wealth when he joined forces with the Lord of Glamorgan in the south of Wales to undermine the king's power and hurt the queen. Lord Burbek was an underling of the Lord of Glamorgan and had been tasked with doing his nefarious deeds.

When the king was satisfied that he'd heard all he needed to know, he requested the queen's guard to take her away from the hall, which she did willingly, not wishing to look upon her deceitful cousin any longer. The king dismissed the remainder of the guards in the hall, as well as Wolf, leaving only him alone with Red, The Executioner, and the three guards detaining him.

"I find myself in a predicament, Red," the king said leaning against the table at Red's side. Both men were staring at Friar Ferrando, who was looking back at them, his angry glare full of rage and evil. "I must away immediately. I have business to attend to in the south of Wales with the Lord of Glamorgan and Lord Burbek. Which means I do not have time to prepare for a proper execution for the queen's cousin." He paused, crossing his arms over his chest. "Are you feeling hale and fit after your ordeal?"

Red nodded as he rolled his bad shoulder. It was uncomfortable, but he could still move it; the stiffness would settle in later.

The king motioned to the guards to release the friar, then turned to Red. "It would expedite matters if you would do me the honor of executing The Executioner on my behalf."

Red looked at the man who had kept the flame of vengeance burning in his belly for twenty years. He'd pictured killing him thousands of times in thousands of different ways, each slow and painful. He looked down at the daggers still in his hands and realized he just wanted this to be done. He wanted to be rid of the anger and the hatred, of the memories that had haunted him since the day The Executioner changed the course of his life.

Then Galiena had barreled into his life and into his arms, creating a new course for his life, one of joy and love. All he wanted now was to follow that path and forge a life with her.

The sooner this was over, the sooner he could be with her. He lifted his gaze from the knives in his hand to meet the eyes of the king. "My uncle crafted these daggers because of a small boy's fascination with the tale of a mythological wolf. Fenrir, as you stated. It was a tale I made him tell me again and again. They were meant to be a thing of beauty. Something he and I shared, besides our name." Red flickered his gaze to The Executioner before returning it to the king. "The friar changed that."

Red spun the dagger with the green-eyed wolf in his right hand, then wrapped his palm around the hilt. He thought of all the souls The Executioner had ushered into the next world with it. "For my uncle and my mother," he said in a low voice.

His left shoulder still felt like there was a blade embedded in it each time he moved it. The pain was a reminder of how close The Executioner had come to taking another person—this time, the most important person—that he loved from him. He spun the red-eyed wolf dagger in his left hand, then gripped the familiar hilt. "For Galiena."

A mirthless laugh escaped his lips as he walked toward the man shrinking away from him, his eyes seeking an escape that did not exist. He'd been stripped of his hooded cowl, but the wooden cross yet dangled satirically from the rosary beads looped over the belt at his waist.

Toad.

That's all he was now. Gone was the arrogant air of a scholar, the pious righteousness of a friar, and the depraved superiority of an assassin. The Executioner had ceased to exist, and there was nothing left but a man with the ugly warts of evil on his shriveled soul. "I'd tell you to pray to your God, Friar, but I don't think even He will forgive you. And now it's time to meet Him." He slipped the blade home, watching without pity as the life left The Executioner's eyes and his body crumpled to the floor.

The deed was done. He returned to the king, holding the dagger the queen's cousin had stolen so many years ago by the bloodied blade as he presented it to Edward. "This dagger no longer represents my uncle."

The king nodded his silent approval as he took the dagger by the hilt, the silver body and green eyes of the engraved wolf splattered with crimson.

"Do with it what you will, Your Grace," Red said, reaching for the remnants of the shredded shirt the surgeon had removed from him before cauterizing his wound. He wiped the blood off his face and chest, then from his own blade, rubbing the hilt until he was sure nothing of the friar remained. Then he bowed to the king and left the hall, tossing his shirt into the flames of the hearth as he passed.