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It took several days’ journey on my wolf mount to reach the gates of Valgertha. They were well guarded with sentries posted on the ramparts, looking out over the outlying lands for attacking armies or signs of their enemies. They weren’t searching a man dressed as a merchant of their own kind, however.
I had shaved the sides of my head, gathering my hair in a long French braid that began at the cusp of my hairline, all the way to the back of my head. Dark, dusky tattoos had been branded onto my skin, all inspired and designed with Valgerthian history in mind. They were quite wild and tribal in nature, speaking to the warrior mentality of their people. I was dressed as they were, in well-worn leather armor, with a curved sword at my waist. The armor the Brotherhood had provided me with was prepared especially for me, conditioned and beaten into shape as if I had fought side by side with these people on the battlefield all my life.
I played the part of a Valgerthian because it was what needed to be done. It would allow me to slip into the city unnoticed. I walked through the city gates without even a second glance. The sentries continued looking out into the wilderness, searching for those who didn’t belong or a massive army coming to breach their gates. They didn’t expect a man like me to walk in all alone, with full intentions of conquering their queen.
I meandered through the streets, nodding politely as I passed by other merchants selling their wares. Some were offering mead. There were a number of men selling confectionaries, others suggesting plates of cheese and large slabs of meat. The delicious smells of freshly cooked street food caressed my nose and I smiled in delight.
My stomach growled as I passed by a vendor selling skewers of marinated chicken and beef, some of the few animals that hadn’t really been affected by the aftermaths of the Great War. They drizzled it in some sort of spicy white sauce, and I tossed them an extra few coins to give me one fresh off their grill. I took a bite, groaning at the decadent taste of fresh meat as I continued down the street. I stopped at a number of other stalls, but all the while, I was making my way toward the rear of the city where Freya’s castle was situated. It was built into a cliff, with a single stairway leading to the entrance. Curved archways lined the entryway.
The castle itself was built with stones and wooden planks, with several pointed tiers that spoke to the grandeur of the place. The roof was covered with carved wooden slats, which would be better protection against fire-tipped arrows than a straw-covered roof would have been. The architecture was inspired by ancient architecture that had once resided here. To this day though, much of the knowledge of those people had been lost.
The front entry staircase was guarded by Freya’s closest allies, all warriors lined to the teeth with as much weapons as they could hold. The only thing missing was guns at their hips. It wasn’t part of Valgertha’s culture. Their beliefs about combat centered on being the power behind their enemy’s death, rather than the use of mechanical weaponry to do the job for them. I knew that they mainly fought with knives, swords, and arrows. Only in very rare cases did they ever stoop to using a gun because to do so would bring them dishonor in the eyes of the gods and their people.
I watched the castle from afar, all under the guise of a mercenary shopping for wares in the local street market. The guards outside only change in two shifts. For several days, I watched the patterns of those that were positioned to stand watch over the castle, memorizing their faces, the times the guards were changed, and the patterns of who worked together. In time, I knew exactly what to expect.
The walls were well guarded, but there were small things I noticed that I could use to my advantage. There were several windows left open on the first floor that would be easy points of entry once I traversed the cliffside walls. If I entered in that manner though, I would have to attempt it under the cover of nightfall on the night of the new moon.
I could sneak into the castle and find my way into her chambers, hiding until I had her all to myself in her own bedroom. I could force her into heat all by herself, which might make the whole experience on a woman like her easier to bear.
Another possibility would be that I could walk up to the castle in the light of day and announce that I had business with the queen. That would result in one of two things. First, they might take me to her and give me an audience right from the start, although this was unlikely. Second, they could take me prisoner. If I made enough of a spectacle of my interest in the queen, she may come to visit me herself, solely out of curiosity. This could end up with me in strong chains though, irons that would be strong enough to contain even an alpha, which was quite undesirable.
I weighed my options, trying to decide if I should meet Freya head on or sneak in and introduce myself without giving her any time to prepare for a man like me.
I wanted to throw her off-balance. I wanted to show her that she didn’t have control anymore. She needed to be taught that my alpha was going to subdue hers and she wasn’t going to have a choice about it. Her body was going to beg for my cock before I was through with her. The quicker I went about teaching her that lesson, the better.
That meant that I needed to meet her on my terms.
That night, only a sliver of the moon was visible in the night sky, giving off hardly any light down onto the city below. Torches and lanterns lit the streets, flickering and casting shadows that were easy to move in and out of without a trace. I made my way to the edge of town to a scarcely used alleyway that provided perfect cover for traversing the rocky cliffside so that I could enter the castle completely undetected.
There was no one to stop me as I began to navigate the rocks. I climbed from one to another, slowly making my way up the cliff through the use of a grappling hook and spiked steel-toed boots. I was strong, but still the journey was strenuous, leaving me covered in a glistening sheen of sweat by the time I made it all the way to the top
. I hid behind a tall shrub as I caught my breath and took a sip of water out of my waterskin, taking the time to observe my surroundings for any changes in the usual patterns. There weren’t any though and I smirked at their foolishness.
Upon the switching of the guards, I finally made my way over to the open window and cut my way through the castle until I wasn’t far from Freya’s chambers. Before I’d come here, the Brotherhood had supplied me with the blueprints to the castle, drawn by a servant that used to serve there. From my understanding, she had been paid handsomely for the information and would never work as a servant again.
The Brotherhood had deep pockets and a lot of influence. If the Ghost needed to know something, he would get it, no matter how much coin it cost him. It had ultimately proven very useful many times before and was no different for a mission like this as well.
I waited in a nearby hallway, watching and waiting for any servants that might pass by. Since it was so late at night, I only encountered one and was easily able to hide until she continued on her way. Her people hadn’t expected someone like me, so they weren’t looking for any intruders. There wasn’t even a single guard posted outside her doors and I slipped inside her chambers with ease.
I locked the door behind me, taking a moment to bend the metal enough that it wouldn’t open very easily if she happened to make it all the way to the door in a foolhardy escape attempt.
I knew what to expect with the layout of her private living quarters, but I was slow to analyze them in person all the same. Her door opened to a grand entryway, with two spiraling staircases to either side that led upstairs to a large bedroom and a strategy room according to the blueprints I had studied. There was chandelier made out of a number of antlers far above me, and bright oil lanterns that flickered in the darkness. At one end of the entryway were a small dining area, a fully stocked pantry and kitchen, as well as a living room with room to relax.
I made sure every room on the lower floor was clear before I made my way upstairs toward the queen’s bedroom. I checked the strategy room first, ensuring that it was unoccupied as I had done with the rest of her chambers. It was simple in design, with a single massive round table at the center of the room, surrounded with only a few heavy wooden chairs. It was covered in maps, parchments, and unopened scrolls, evidence of the plans that were being put together on where she should attack next.
Freya was quite the busy woman apparently. I had no doubt that she was already well on her way to make a name for herself as a fearsome warrior queen.
I slipped down the hallway to see that her bedroom door was cracked open. I could see a flickering candle inside, still lit. Shadows played on the walls and my eyes turned toward the bed. Freya was sleeping, the back of her head facing me.
Silently, I pushed the door open just a hair and she didn’t move. I crept inside, step by step and as her slow breathing continued, I moved along the wall, keeping my eyes trained on her. She still appeared to be asleep, so I kept on moving until I reached an armchair situated in the corner of the room and took a seat. I remained silent.
Her hair spread like a fan across the sheets, a brilliant dark burgundy color that contrasted starkly against the white fabric beneath. The pace of her breathing changed slightly, as if she was pretending to still be asleep, and I stiffened.
It was time to meet the woman I was tasked with subduing.
“Whoever the fuck you are, you better have a good explanation as to why you’re sneaking into my bedchambers at this hour of the night,” she challenged, her voice quiet, but powerful. It sounded almost musical to me and I sat back, crossing my legs and enjoying hearing her speak for the first time.
“I do. I’ve come for you, Freya,” I responded.
