Conqueror Queen

Chapter 6: Part II

Esma set the wooden cup of water on the small table by Aiya’s cot, gently pressing her back down into the bed. "You must stay here and rest," she insisted, her tone soft but firm.

Aiya tried to sit up again, her defiance evident in the sharp furrow of her brow. "The people will think me weak," she protested.

"Even the greatest heroes rested, Aiya," Esma countered.

Aiya sighed, conceding. Her body ached relentlessly—her ribs made each breath a painful ordeal, and her muscles screamed with every motion. She knew Esma was right, even if she hated the truth of it.

"Gunnar wants to see you," Esma continued, brushing her hands over the thin blanket to smooth it. "But I told him you needed to sleep."

"No," Aiya said firmly, leaning on her elbow despite the sharp pain it caused. "Send for him. I could use the company."

Esma hesitated, then nodded. Before long, she returned with Gunnar in tow, his broad frame filling the doorway of the small tent.

"You were magnificent," he said, stepping inside.

"I was terrified," Aiya admitted, shifting to sit up.

"Vikings fear nothing. Remember that," he replied, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. "I wanted to tell you the news. Ragda has been speaking with the people—many have agreed to follow you into York."

She allowed herself a small smile. "What of King Thorolf? He said he wanted to take Derby."

Gunnar’s expression darkened. "Yes, but it’s not wise to divide our forces."

Aiya frowned, her mind racing. She yearned for her revenge on Hemming, but the thought of seizing all of the west filled her with a deeper, more strategic ambition. If they took the west, there would be no place for Hemming to hide.

"Where is Ragda now?" she asked.

"Last I saw, he was walking into the woods after the Englishman."

"James?"

"Ja."

Her stomach sank. She threw back the blankets and swung her legs over the side of the cot, wincing as pain flared in her ribs. Gunnar moved quickly to her side, catching her arm and steadying her.

"Take me to them," she demanded. Together, they limped toward the dense woods where Gunnar had last seen the two men disappear.

The trail grew steeper and narrower as they ventured deeper into the forest. The sounds of a nearby creek grew louder, masking other noises. Gunnar paused, looking around the thick brush.

"I don’t see them," he muttered, lowering Aiya onto a nearby stump.

"Why are we even following them?" he asked, his tone tinged with exasperation.

"They don’t get along," Aiya replied between labored breaths.

"Because of you?"

"No," she snapped, glaring at him. "They just don’t—"

"Shhh," Gunnar hissed, raising a finger to his lips. "Do you hear that?"

Aiya strained to listen. At first, it was muffled, but soon she recognized the sound of struggling. Someone was wrestling—or fighting.

"Help me up!" she ordered.

Gunnar hauled her to her feet, and they moved toward the source of the noise. As they approached, the sounds became clearer, though the rushing creek masked much of it. Two figures were partially obscured by the brush, moving erratically. Aiya’s heart raced.

"There," she whispered, pointing ahead.

"Stay here," Gunnar said firmly, setting her down again. He drew his ax and crept toward the commotion.

A loud scream pierced the air, and moments later, Gunnar emerged, his face red and his jaw tight. He avoided Aiya’s questioning gaze and muttered something under his breath.

"What is it?" Aiya demanded, limping toward him.

Gunnar said nothing, stepping aside as James emerged from the bushes, shirtless and tying his trousers. Behind him, a young blonde girl fumbled with the bodice of her dress, her cheeks flushed.

James froze when he saw Aiya, his expression shifting from surprise to sheepish amusement.

"I thought you and Ragda were fighting," Aiya said, her voice flat.

James flashed her a grin, his blue eyes glinting. "Not Ragda. And not fighting."

Aiya rolled her eyes. "Yes, I see that now," she said, turning away.

James caught up to her, slipping an arm around her shoulders to help her walk. "That’s not necessary," she protested. "You should mind her, however," she added, nodding toward the embarrassed girl.

"She’ll be fine," James said with a wink, glancing back at the girl, who quickly scurried off.

When they reached the beach, Gunnar was already there, his expression grim.

"Ragda’s on a rampage," he said. "Someone told him you went into the woods with James. They must have mistaken that girl for you."

Before Aiya could respond, Ragda appeared, his face twisted with rage. Without warning, he slammed his fist into James’s jaw, sending the Englishman sprawling into the sand.

"I warned you to stay away from her!" Ragda bellowed, leaning down to strike again.

"Ragda, enough!" Aiya shouted, trying to intervene. Ragda’s arm knocked her back, but Gunnar caught her before she fell.

James chuckled through a mouthful of blood. "You’ve got it all wrong, my friend," he said, dodging Ragda’s next punch.

Ragda tackled him again, and they wrestled violently in the sand. Aiya turned to Gunnar, pleading with him. "Stop them!"

Gunnar sighed and stepped forward, grabbing Ragda by the shoulders and pulling him off James with ease. He held them apart as James staggered to his feet, wiping the blood from his split lip.

"This is what you think of me?" Aiya’s voice broke as she glared at Ragda, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Aiya, I—" Ragda began, but she turned and stormed off, her hurt evident.

James smirked as he wiped more blood from his face. "You left her?" he taunted. "I came back. I saved her, which is more than you can say. Where were you?"

Ragda’s fists clenched, his knuckles white. "Stay away from her," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

James grinned, undeterred. "Of course, Earl Ragda. She’s all yours." He clapped Gunnar on the shoulder and walked away, his laughter fading into the din of the camp.

Gunnar watched him go, then turned to Ragda. "I’d take his warning seriously, Christian," he muttered before following after Aiya.