Rule of the Shieldmaiden

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Rule of the Shieldmaiden Page 11

by Jaime Loughran


  The crowd parted and Thora stepped into view. By the gods, she was a vision, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her until that moment. His hands itched to bury themselves in her thick, blonde hair as his lips pressed against hers. His arms ached to wrap around her and hold her body tight against his.

  “Thora…” He whispered as her lips curved into a sensuous smile.

  “Galinn!” Her voice broke as her eyes filled with tears. “I’m so glad you’re home!”

  She climbed into the back of the wagon. Her smile faded as she took in his bound state, and her expression clouded when she saw the bruises on his face. Galinn turned his head slightly to try to hide his face, but he was unable to hide the fact he was bound.

  “Why?” She looked from Galinn to Bjorn and back again.

  Galinn’s face heated and he had to look away, unable to bear the hurt on her face as she realized force brought him back, not choice. He suddenly regretted every decision he’d made since Bjorn and Turlough showed up at his door.

  Brandr whinnied and stepped up to the wagon, stretching his neck to rub Thora with his muzzle. When she turned to greet him, Galinn didn’t miss the tear that fell.

  “Hello, boy. I’m happy to see you too.” She rubbed his muzzle and leaned down to kiss his face. Then she turned and hopped out of the wagon without another glance at Galinn. He stared at the three story stone stronghold, realizing that he’d have an easier time mounting an offensive against that than defending his actions to Thora and making up for the hurt he caused.

  Bjorn cut his restraints and gave him a warning look before stepping down from the wagon. Galinn rubbed his wrists, wondering what to do next. Did he chase after Thora, who was walking toward her longhouse as if she couldn’t get away fast enough? Did he stay put and wait for her to come to him? He didn’t know.

  “Go.” Bjorn pointed in Thora’s direction with his knife and an expression that would allow no argument.

  He rubbed his face. In the village for minutes and he already managed to alienate two of the people he cared about most. Where were Skathi and Beri? Alienating them would round out his list.

  Bjorn moved his arm, about to grab Galinn, but Galinn heeded the previous warning and climbed out of the wagon. He turned to meet Bjorn’s steely gaze. “What do I say to her? How do I make this right?”

  “I would start with the truth, Galinn. Lies won’t make things right. They never do. The best you can hope for by lying is to delay the inevitable discovery of the truth, and then, the situation is worse because the exposed lies compound the problems. Don’t be a coward and lie because you think it will make your burden easier to bear. Take responsibility for yourself and your actions by being honest with her.” Bjorn shrugged as he turned and started for his longhouse, seemingly washing his hands of Galinn.

  Galinn stared after him.

  “I wouldn’t stand there for too long, my friend. You have quite the mess to clean up.” Turlough stood beside him, shaking his head.

  Galinn was tempted to lash out at Turlough, to make some snide comment about how he was too young to know anything about relationships. Instead, he nodded. Turlough may be sixteen, but he had a maturity beyond his age. And he was right.

  “Thanks for the ride back.” Galinn extended his hand to clasp forearms, and waited.

  Turlough laughed, but hesitated on taking Galinn’s extended hand. “Make this right, Galinn. These are good people, and they seem to care a good deal about you. Thora stuck her neck out for you. Don’t make her regret it.”

  Galinn dropped his hand as the vision of Travers beheading Thora rose up. He shook his head to clear away the ghastly image. “I know. You’re right. Are you staying?”

  Turlough shook his head. “I have to get back to Kincora before they start to wonder where I am. If they even noticed I was gone.” He rolled his eyes.

  “I’m sure they noticed. Let’s hope you weren’t followed.” Galinn looked to the gate, instinctively searching for anyone who may have followed them, even though he’d spent the whole trip looking backwards and was certain no one was there.

  “I doubt I was. Once my horse is rested, I’ll head back. If I don’t see you before I leave, I hope to see you again soon. With all of this fixed.” He waved in the direction Thora and Bjorn disappeared.

  “Me too.” Galinn had no idea how to fix this, because he was still convinced Thora was better off without him around, but Turlough didn’t need to know that. “Be safe, if I don’t see you before you leave.”

  Turlough stepped around to the front of the wagon and unhitched his horse. “I’ll see that Brandr is settled in too”

  Galinn waved his thanks and began walking toward the longhouse where he wouldn’t be greeted by smiling faces. The house wasn’t that far from where the wagon stopped, but it was the longest walk of Galinn’s life.

  As the open doorway got closer, Galinn’s sense of doom grew. He tried to think of something to say that would make things right, but he tossed aside everything he came up with because they all amounted to nothing more than lies and half-truths. Bjorn was right. Only the truth would work. As uncomfortable as it may be for him to say and for Thora to hear, he had to tell her.

  “Thora?” Galinn called from the doorway, unsure if he was welcome inside.

  Bjorn materialized from the darkened interior. “Come on. She’s over there by the fire.” He motioned to an area beyond Galinn’s sight from the doorway.

  He stepped in, turned in the direction Bjorn indicated, and found Thora sitting in a chair with her head in her hands. The sight shattered his heart.

  “Thora, I’m sorry. Can we talk?” He moved to a chair near her, but didn’t sit.

  “You’re sorry you had to be dragged back here against your will?” She didn’t lift her head or otherwise acknowledge his presence.

  “I deserve that.”

  She sat back, crossed her arms over her chest, and held him with an unreadable gaze. “Did you know I spent the last four months desperately hoping you’d come back to me? That I woke every night reaching for you? I’m sorry I told everyone your secret, if that’s why you didn’t want to come back, but I did it for you. For us. You said that was why you couldn’t be here, and I thought if that were no longer a problem, you could come back and build a life here. In the village where you belong. With me.”

  She blamed herself for him not wanting to come back. Galinn was at a loss for words. Of course he had the passing thought of how she betrayed him by telling everyone, but never once was that a factor in why he didn’t want to come back to the village. He understood why she did it and was fine with her action.

  “The truth,” Bjorn growled from his spot at the table across the large room. When Galinn looked at him, he noticed Skathi standing beside him. The two wore looks of disappointed parents, and they did it extremely well. His stomach twisted and sank. He lowered himself into the chair.

  Galinn nodded. “Thora, you telling everyone about my past has nothing to do with why Bjorn had to drag me back here. I am a risk to you by being here. If Donnchadh or Travers find out I’m here—and I have no doubt they will—they’ll destroy the village and everyone in it to get to me. They’ll use me as the excuse to come after you.”

  She shook her head. “You seem to have survived Dublin just fine. You saw the defenses out there.” Her hand swept out toward the exterior wall. “They would have had a much easier time getting to you in Dublin than here. But they didn’t go there looking for you, did they?”

  Galinn slowly shook his head, realizing that his existence there had been free of Donnchadh and Travers, as far as he knew.

  “They’ll have their own reasons for coming after me. I fully intend to launch an offensive against them before they have a chance to find out you’re here. I told you I want Donnchadh. I wasn’t joking.”

  Galinn leaned back and nodded. “I know you weren’t, but you aren’t in any kind of a position to go on the offensive. Your numbers are too low.”

&
nbsp; Her eyes flashed with anger and she leaned forward. “You think I don’t know that? In case you haven’t noticed, we’ve been quite busy around here, and our numbers have grown. The defenses are nearly finished, we have several warriors in training—including ten shieldmaidens, and Bjorn and I returned from making alliances. This attack will happen.”

  He held up his hands, not wanting to get stuck on that point. “Okay, so you’re going to attack him first. Maybe he won’t come after you because of me. Maybe the fort could withstand the attack if he did. That’s only one issue.”

  “There are more?” Her flat tone exposed the fact she wasn’t taking his reasons for anything other than weak excuses.

  Galinn studied the wooden plank on the floor below his feet and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. “After what happened to Rónán because of me, I don’t deserve to be happy. How can I go on and be happy with my life when his life was ended because of me and my actions?”

  Thora shot to her feet like a towering inferno of fury. “You ’don’t deserve to be happy’? Do you honestly believe that? Do you think Rónán would want you to live the rest of your life in misery? What happened to him isn’t your fault. It’s Travers’. No one else’s. Rónán would want you to live the best life possible—as he did after the deaths of his family. You are dishonoring his memory by denying yourself a chance at happiness because of your misplaced sense of guilt.”

  Galinn stood and stared down at Thora, trying to hold onto his growing temper. “My guilt is not misplaced. He is dead because of me. That’s a fact that won’t change.”

  She blew out a breath and with it, her anger seemed to evaporate. Galinn narrowed his eyes, uncertain what the sudden shift in her demeanor meant. “Fine. Blame yourself, if you must, but live your life, Galinn. Be happy, and know you deserve it.” A smile played across her lips and something flickered in her crystal blue eyes. “Remember, Rónán wanted you to take care of me.”

  Galinn laughed at her shift in tactics, despite his best effort not to. “You know that was only about me getting you home when you were injured.”

  She cocked her head to the side and a mischievous gleam shone in her eyes. “Was it? Because I think he thought we were good for each other, and I think he charged you with looking out for me because he knew you needed a bit of a push in the right direction. That I did too. The old man was crafty like that, Galinn.”

  Galinn’s arms snaked around her waist and he pulled her to him, unable to deny himself the enjoyment of feeling her body pressed against his. “Aye, he was crafty, and you may be right. He was always pushing me towards what he thought was the right things for me to do.” At first, he said the words to go along with what Thora said as a way of ending the conversation, but even if he wanted to, he couldn’t deny the truth behind his statement.

  Rónán was always pushing him to do the right thing, and often times, what he pushed for brought Galinn the most happiness. When Galinn was first brought to Kincora, he was a ten-year-old boy left to his own devices. With nothing to do, and having been ripped from everything he knew, he spent most of his time alone. Rónán made it a point to visit with him, though Galinn wasn’t too keen on trusting anyone from Kincora. When Rónán had gained his trust, he once asked Galinn what he missed most about his home. He missed training with Bjorn and Svein the most. After his admission, the healer pushed Galinn to ask Donnchadh to let him train with his men. It took a couple of times, but Donnchadh eventually gave in. From then on, Galinn trained and practiced every day, and began to settle in.

  Rónán often operated like that over the fifteen years Galinn spent in Kincora. Little pushes, big pushes, and he never steered Galinn wrong. Then there was Thora. After Galinn filled Rónán in on everything he’d discovered about her and the significance of the village he attacked, as well as his concerns about Travers’ interest in her, Rónán pushed him into taking her back. He said it wasn’t enough to set her free to find her own way back home. Rónán was adamant on Galinn delivering her back to her people, and telling her the truth of who he was. At the time, he thought Rónán was worried for her safety, but he now had to acknowledge Rónán was pushing Galinn toward Thora. That first ride back from Kincora… Galinn smiled at the memories of their time together. Once Galinn opened himself up to Thora, as Rónán suggested, the barriers came down between them. It wasn’t long before Galinn fell in love with her. If only other events hadn’t gotten in the way of that and robbed them of months that could have been spent together.

  Yes, Rónán would want him to be happy, and he’d want Galinn right where he was. As he gradually came to accept that truth, he held Thora tighter to him.

  He breathed in her earthy scent that reminded him of the two of them lying in grassy fields. As the memory stirred his passion, he admitted he didn’t want to be without her any longer. “I love you.”

  She stiffened in his arms.

  CHAPTER 19

  “Don’t say that.” Thora pulled back, but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She didn’t want to see the hurt she’d find on his face.

  Galinn let his hands fall away. “Why? You made me see the error in my judgment, and in the process, I’ve realized I can’t deny my feelings for you. What’s wrong with telling you how I feel?”

  The injury in his voice threatened to crush her heart. She shook her head. “Nothing. Not really. It’s not the time for that.” She doubted he’d understand.

  From the corner of her eye, she watched him sag into the chair behind him. She returned to her seat and fidgeted with a loose thread on her tunic, paying it far more attention than it warranted.

  “You don’t love me.” His tone was matter of fact and lacked accusation, as if he spoke of something as simple as the weather.

  Her eyes jerked to his face and she saw heartbreak written across every feature. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. How could she explain her feelings in a way that made sense when she wasn’t entirely sure of what the problem was herself? It wasn’t that she didn’t have feelings for him, because she did. If she were completely honest with herself, she’d admit she did love him. Why else would she risk everything to tell the people of the village about his past in the hopes they’d allow him to come back? It wasn’t only because he belonged there, and deep down she knew it.

  The source of her hesitation seemed to stem from the way he was brought back. He didn’t come back by choice. Bjorn had to drag him back by force. Then there was the fact that he left her once already. Thora shied away from examining those raw nerves, as thinking about them strummed those nerves and sent sparks of pain through every part of her heart. She sat up straight and squared her shoulders.

  “Galinn, it’s not that I don’t love you. You hurt me… twice. First when you left, and again when you had to be brought here by force. You’re the only person in a position to cause me heartbreak like that, and I’m terrified of allowing you to get closer. I want you here with me, but I need time to see what your intentions are.” As she spoke, the problem made itself clear. She was afraid of the pain he’d cause her if he turned his back on her again.

  Though her explanation didn’t wipe away the heartbreak on his face, he nodded. “I deserve that. I’m sorry I hurt you.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair and then slapped it. “I’ll just have to do everything I can to undo the damage I’ve caused.”

  A weight lifted from Thora’s shoulders now that they came to an understanding so quickly. She was willing to give him the chance to earn her trust, and to see where the relationship went. Regardless of how the relationship turned out, however, she still wanted Galinn in the village. He belonged there.

  Bjorn crossed the large room and cleared his throat. “If you two have sorted everything out, we have some work to do.”

  Galinn nodded and stood. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

  Thora smiled. “I think we should fill you in on what’s happened during your time in Dublin. Sit.” She motioned toward the
chair he just vacated while Bjorn sat in one opposite Thora.

  “By what I’ve seen out there, you’ve been busy.” Galinn settled into the chair and looked from Bjorn to Thora.

  “Yes, we’ve been busy here with the defenses, as you saw. We’ve also been busy making alliances with other jarls and training new warriors.” Thora smiled as Galinn’s mouth fell open.

  “Alliances?” His brows rose. “You mentioned that earlier. With who?”

  “Wexford, Waterford, and Limerick.” Bjorn crossed his arms over his chest.

  Galinn stared at the fire. “Those are good ones. Limerick, especially. Harold has good cause to want Donnchadh removed from power, being his closest neighbor. I’ve led a raid or two against him until they reached an uneasy agreement. Not that the king respected that agreement for long. He switched to more stealthy raids, and I wasn’t a part of those. I don’t know much about Wexford and Waterford, other than rumors I’ve heard that lead me to believe both are strong leaders.”

  Bjorn nodded. “Thora won over all three of them, with each promising men when the time comes to attack Kincora.”

  “With what I know of Kincora, Travers, and Donnchadh’s army, I should be able to help with the attack plans.”

  “That’s what we hoped you’d say.” A sly smile spread across Bjorn’s lips as he pointed at Galinn. Thora had no doubt Galinn would offer what information he had to further their cause. He had as much reason as Thora to want revenge against Donnchadh and Travers, if not more.

  “How are your numbers?”

  “Growing stronger by the day. So far, we’re well over two hundred, with half of those people either in training or skilled fighters.”

  Galinn whistled low. “That was fast. How are things in the village? Any trouble with anyone not accepting Thora’s rule?” Thora chose not to take offense to Galinn asking Bjorn as if she weren’t there.

 

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