Rule of the Shieldmaiden

by Jaime Loughran

  Satisfied Thora was as safe as she could be, Galinn left his post to meet Beri. The two of them were the last of the army to enter, and for good reason. Galinn couldn’t risk someone recognizing him before the rest of the army was in position, and Beri was too damn big to not draw attention to himself.

  CHAPTER 30

  Thora glanced around the courtyard as the chapel bell rang. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears and an electric current of anticipation rippled through her body. As people began to file into the small stone building, Thora lifted her chin to her warriors, signaling half of them to move into the crowd. One by one, they left their positions and became part of the crowd that entered the chapel. Once inside, they’d take up the positions Galinn instructed them to take earlier. Thora schooled herself to patience, tamping down on the urge to join the crowd herself. For now, she had to stand back and make sure everyone got into position without raising an alarm.

  She turned to look out across the courtyard to where Beri leaned against the stable doorway. She nodded to him. He pushed himself away from the wall, motioned with his hand for others to follow, and made his way to the stronghold. Beri argued against his task in this attack, because he wanted to be with Thora when she entered the chapel to take Donnchadh. However, she needed someone she could trust to lead half of the army into the stronghold to prevent anyone from coming out and attacking Thora’s back. Galinn said not everyone attended the chapel for this Mass, and they needed to be prepared in the event the people who stayed in the stronghold could muster a strong defense. Initially, Beri’s task relied on surprising the enemy, just as Thora’s did, but now they assumed the enemy knew they were coming. Beri and his men would breach the stronghold, and once inside, they would split up. Half of his men would hold the door, preventing anyone from getting out. The other half would sweep the stronghold and take out any opposition they came across before the king’s men had a chance to mount a defense. They may know an attack is coming, but moving it up a day before might give them the upper hand.

  Once Beri and his men made it up the stairs and to the door of the stronghold without issue, Thora ducked into a small group of churchgoers and made her way into the chapel as Galinn’s hooded figure slipped in behind her.

  “Be careful,” he whispered as he turned away to take up his position in a pew toward the front of the chapel.

  She hung toward the back, taking in everything from how the interior of the chapel appeared larger than the exterior suggested to the way the heavy scent of unwashed bodies pressing together mixed with incense. Narrow aisle stood on either side of the long rows of pews. A wide center aisle divided them in half. Thora assumed the priest, who was talking with some of the churchgoers in the back of the church, would use the center aisle to reach the altar. Six chandeliers hung from the ceiling, each holding a dozen flaming candles. Several tall pillar candles burned on and around the altar, illuminating the front row.

  She had never seen Donnchadh to know what he looked like, but she was able to pick him out from the other churchgoers simply by the brightly colored fabric he wore, just as Galinn described. Where nearly everyone else wore drab shades of brown or blue, and only a handful of women wore yellows and greens, Donnchadh wore a bright red, fur lined brat around his shoulders. Thora didn’t need to see the rest of him to know the léine and trews he wore would be as brightly colored as the brat. Her warriors sprinkled themselves in amongst the people, doing their best to blend in. The shieldmaidens split themselves into two groups and sat in pews a few rows behind and on either side of Donnchadh where they could get to him quickly when the time came.

  The pews quickly filled with people, leaving the chapel with standing room only, and still more people crammed into the church. Thora leaned against the wall, hoping none of the people pressing against her would notice the weapons hanging on her belt. She smoothed her hand down her sides to make sure her cloak still concealed her axe and sword.

  The priest spoke with a handful of boys wearing white robes and pointed out where each one should stand. Thora had never been to a proper church service before and found it curious they’d sacrifice children. She was certain Christians didn’t do such things, but she couldn’t figure out why the children would be in a procession to the altar if not for sacrifice. When the procession reached the altar and the Mass began, each boy appeared to have an assigned job to help the priest. Her brows drew together and then raised as it dawned on her the children were there only to serve the priest while he led the service. She shook off her thoughts, realizing she was distracted from her task by the pomp and circumstance of the Mass. She turned her attention to the people within the chapel, looking for any indication they were aware of anything out of the ordinary. A few glanced around, but that appeared to be more out of boredom than suspicion.

  Thora’s stomach did somersaults as she waited for the cue Galinn instructed them to move on, knowing it had to be coming soon. At some point, everyone would stand to recite prayers, and it was at that moment they’d launch their attack. As the old priest’s voice droned on in monotone, Thora’s eyes darted around the chapel, making sure her people were at the ready. Her gaze met Galinn’s and his face held an unreadable expression. She tilted her head slightly to the side, hoping he’d understand her question. He shook his head, but she didn’t understand his meaning. Before she could decipher his message, everyone seated began to stand and in the commotion, her people drew their weapons and advanced.

  “Thora, no!” Galinn cried, but it was too late. She and the rest of her army found themselves eye to eye with armed opponents. They had tried to be prepare for every possibility, but somehow, the idea of armed churchgoers escaped their consideration. Thora slashed and hacked her way toward Galinn as he made his way to her. The number of people within the chapel made for extremely close quarter fighting, and the innocent people fleeing for their lives complicated made the fight more difficult. In their frightened escape, they jostled against others, causing many to fall. Thora had to avoid tripping over an older man who had fallen and was at risk of being trampled by the panicked mob. She reached down to help the man up only to find herself knocked down in the process. She thought the crowd pushed her, but when a blow landed on the backside of her head, she turned and saw the soldier standing over her. Her head swam from the blow and she fought to remain conscious. He raised his sword to strike her, but Bjorn appeared through the crowd and jammed his sword into her attacker’s belly. He held his hand out to help her up as he used his body to block those who fled from trampling her.

  As he pulled her to her feet, she tried to get her bearing. She was woozy and her stomach threatened to empty its contents. She swallowed against the sudden rush of saliva in her mouth.

  “Can you fight?” Bjorn’s intense stare brought her thoughts back to the immediate problem. If they didn’t move quickly, they’d lose their chance to get Donnchadh.

  She shook her head, trying to clear the fog as she rubbed the spot on the back of her head where a knot formed from the blow. Bjorn fought off two attackers. “I’ll be fine,” she said as she swung her axe and connected with the shoulder of one of Bjorn’s opponents. She frantically searched for Galinn as she kept one eye out for any would be attackers, and what she saw made her blood freeze in her veins. Her people were outnumbered by at least two to one, and more soldiers came flooding through a door off the side of the altar she hadn’t noticed before. A group of soldiers crowded around Galinn, forcing him back toward the door. Donnchadh stood behind a wall of men on the altar.

  Bjorn followed her gaze. “That’s not Donnchadh. That’s Travers. My guess is these are his men too.”

  Thora’s heart jumped into her throat as she stared at the old man dressed in the kind of finery Galinn said Donnchadh was known for. Her mind cast about to make sense of it all as her forces were pushed back toward the doors they came in through. She fought hard, trying to cut through the line of soldiers pushing her people out, but it was useless.

  “
We have to retreat and try to make it to the gates before they close us in, if they haven’t already.” Bjorn yelled over the din of the battle raging inside the stone building.

  “We have to get Galinn!” Thora swung her axe wildly, desperately trying to cut down the men standing between her and the path to Galinn.

  “Thora, there’s an entire army between him and us, we cannot get to him.”

  She screamed her denial as she continued to slash and hack at any man who stood before her.

  “If you don’t call for retreat, we will all die!” Bjorn cut down the man in front of him. Another man took the place of the fallen man and Bjorn quickly dispatched him.

  “You retreat. I’m going for Galinn.” Thora was about to lunge forward, anticipating the attack of the man she eyed when a steel band wrapped around her midsection and hoisted her over an iron shoulder. Before she could protest, Bjorn turned and fought his way to the exit. Held over his shoulder as she was, all she could do was stare in frozen horror as Galinn was pushed to his knees on the floor in front of Travers. She lost sight of Galinn when he vanished behind the men standing around the bishop, but she could clearly see as the older man drew back his sword and brought it down in a swift motion. The self-satisfied smirk on his gaunt face confirmed Galinn’s fate.

  “No!” She shrieked as her heart splintered into a thousand pieces and rage filled in the spaces left behind. She fought against Bjorn’s tight grip in a futile attempt to break free and rush to Galinn. His tight grasp only got tighter, holding her firmly in place as he made his way out of the church. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she kept her eyes locked on the altar for any sign that Galinn could still be alive. She begged every god she could think of to spare Galinn’s life. Just as Bjorn crossed the threshold of the chapel, one of Travers’ men dragged Galinn’s body through the side door. With no sign of movement and the victorious looks on the men’s faces, Thora lost all hope for his survival and stopped fighting against Bjorn’s hold on her. The sight before her blurred through her tears and the chapel got smaller until she could no longer see it. Thora was only vaguely aware of Beri and his men clearing the way through the gate as Bjorn rushed to get her to safety. Bjorn didn’t set her down until he was clear of the gates and a safe distance from the fort.

  One thought ricocheted through her mind. Galinn was dead because of her.

  The story continues in Fall of the Shieldmaiden

  Coming Soon

  Also by Jaime Loughran

  Romance in Ireland Series:

  In His Irish Eyes (Book #1)

  In His Irish Heart (Book #2)

  Heart of a Dog Series:

  Odin's Swan Song

  The Shieldmaiden’s Tale

  Rise of the Shieldmaiden

  Misc. Books:

  Through the Static - A rockstar romance

  Through the Static Sample

  Chapter 1

  Elaina Wells tossed the manila folder onto her desk and sank into her chair. Why did she continue to do this job? Chasing drug dealers was a lost cause, because there was always another waiting to take the place of the person she arrested. With the prescription opioid epidemic, now she had to chase doctors. So much for the Hippocratic Oath.

  “What’s up, Wells?” Gary asked without looking up from his paperwork.

  Elaina eyed the top of his gray balding head. “This is a dead end. This guy is just a low level dealer, and I don’t think he knows anything.”

  Gary’s pen stopped, and he looked across his desk at her. “So? They rarely do. Why do you sound more frustrated about that than usual?”

  Elaina met Gary’s questioning gaze with a shrug. “Don’t you ever get tired of it? Dealing with the same thing day after day?”

  Gary let his pen drop from his fingers as he sat back. He shrugged his burly shoulders. “Sure, but someone’s gotta do what we do.” He waved a hand at her. “Don’t worry; you’ll get used to it.”

  She swallowed the sarcastic retort that built on her tongue. She wasn’t going to point out that this wasn’t her first case. Gary Olsen had been with the Wallowdale, California Police Department, long enough that he could have retired two times over. She may have been a cop for ten years—and a detective for the last two—but she’d only been with the Wallowdale PD for a month. Being a newbie to the department was hard enough, but being a woman on top of that made it that much tougher to adjust and fit in. As forward thinking as many departments were, some were still very much a boys’ club. Wallowdale Police Department wasn’t exactly stuck in the age where women weren’t able to do anything, but some of the men she worked with tended to treat her differently than they would a male colleague.

  “If you wanted more action, why didn’t you transfer to a busier department? The LAPD isn’t a far hop from here, considering you moved here from Wisconsin.”

  Elaina picked up her pen and bounced the end of it on her desk. “I don’t want action.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I just want to be somewhere I can be useful to the community.”

  Gary leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful look on his round face. Elaina avoided his gaze. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. Not after what you’ve been through.”

  She put her hands up, as if the gesture would stop the memories from flooding in. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She shook her head to clear the image of bodies and the smell of gunshots, but she couldn’t erase the ache in her chest. She swallowed hard against the lump that formed in her throat.

  “So, about the doctor you’re looking at,” Gary cleared his throat. “Have you found anything to use on him?”

  “Only the word of a drug addict, who this doctor cut off. I’m not sure I believe him, to be honest. Maybe Dr. Peters cut him off because the doctor figured out he was being scammed for the drugs?” Elaina latched onto the change of subject as if it were a lifeline.

  “Could be. Or it could be the doctor cut him off because he found out the junkie was running his mouth about the doctor’s side business.”

  The idea had crossed Elaina’s mind, but so far, she’d found no supporting evidence. “Could be.”

  “We’ll find something, one way, or another. It may take a while, but we’ll get it.”

  Elaina smiled. Gary was always so optimistic. She liked that he could still feel that way after 40 years on the job.

  “How are you settling into our cozy little desert town?”

  “It’s going well enough. I finally got all of my stuff unpacked.” Unpacked she may be, but she wasn’t settled in. She opted to rent an apartment in a complex just a few miles from the station. Coming from a rural town in Wisconsin where her nearest neighbor was a half a mile away, the transition to being surrounded by neighbors was difficult.

  “You meet any of your neighbors yet?” Gary, ever so observant, always seemed to know the direction of her thoughts. Not that it was hard to do—Elaina was an open book.

  “Yep. They all seem nice, and I really like Mrs. Brighton. She always has great stories—and great pies to go along with them.” Elaina chuckled.

  “She’s well known for her pies. Super nice lady.” Gary patted his round midsection in emphasis.

  “I think I’ll like it here.” Elaina picked up her discarded folder and thumbed through it.

  “I know you will. What kind of plans do you have for the weekend?”

  Elaina hesitated, still uncomfortable at the idea of sharing too much personal information with Gary, despite working with him for a month. “I have a date tonight.”

  Gary’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “A date? You?” His good-natured chuckle shook his thickened midsection.

  Elaina’s cheeks grew warm. “Yes, me.”

  “How did that happen? I thought you said you were too busy to meet…what was it you said? ‘Men that weren’t junkies and dealers’, I think it was.”

  Elaina’s chin inched higher with feigned indignation. “And didn’t you say something about a woman of my ‘young and hip age’ using th
e Internet to meet people?” She moved her fingers in air quotes for emphasis on his words.

  Gary’s thin lips spread into a smile that gave way to a hearty laugh. “At 32, you’re still wet behind the ears, but you’re of the generation that came up with the Internet. Didn’t you cut your teeth on dial up?”

  She laughed, but nodded. “Yes, yes, Gary. I know. It shouldn’t have taken an old coot like you telling a young whippersnapper like me to try online dating.”

  Gary roared with laughter as his round, saggy face turned beet red. “Indeed. There’s supposed to be a natural order to things in this world. Technology changes as we get older, but as we get older, we’re less likely to adapt. What is this world coming to when I have to tell you how to use changing technology?” The sounds of his bellowing laugh echoed off the cement walls of their squad room. It was just after six in the evening and they were the only two at their desks. Thankfully, no one else could tease her over her reluctance to try something new.

  Elaina’s stomach muscles ached from laughing. “Okay, okay. You were right. There, I said it.”

  Gary leaned forward, rested his elbows on his desk, and tented his fingers. “So, tell me about this guy.”

  She leaned forward, mimicking his tented fingers and seriousness. She smiled when the corners of his lips twitched as he tried to hold back his grin. “His name is Jack, and he’s an LAPD officer.”

  Gary nodded approvingly. “You managed to meet another cop using an online dating site? Good, good. Where is he taking you?”

  She leaned against the back of her chair and smoothed a hand over her brown hair, the length of which she had wrapped into a tight bun. “Some concert. I’ve never heard of the band, or the club it’s at, but he sounded excited about it. Said I’d love it.”

  Gary sat back and whistled low. “Your first date is at a concert at a club?” He shook his head slowly. “Not in my day, let me tell you.”