She had been ordered to travel as befit a princess, and the party that set out for Dubhlain was impressive. The finest silks and fur-trimmed satins adorned the men as well as the ladies. Even the horses were clad in silk trappings with silver and gold ornamentation. Erin’s splendid mantle of deepest indigo flared from her shoulders to trail in soft folds over her horse’s haunches. It was trimmed with snow-white winter fox, and against the fur her hair fell in cascades that gleamed like a raven’s wing. She was terrified, and because of her fear, she kept her chin high.
Seeing her cheeks flushed with fresh air and her eyes shimmering with dignified caution, Niall of Ulster believed that Erin had never appeared more beautiful. He felt his sense of betrayal clearly, but because he not only gave his unfaltering loyalty to his father, but saw clearly himself the perfect sense of Aed’s commitment, he forced himself to hold his secret. He didn’t doubt for a minute that Erin would attempt to escape across the land if she had the slightest inkling of her fate.
“Niall?” Her voice broke into his thoughts and he braced himself. The sound was soft and seductive, and he knew he was in for another session of questioning.
“Yes, Erin?”
“Please, Niall, if I’m in some type of trouble with Father, I’ll fare much better if I’m aware of what I’ve done! Oh, Niall—”
“Erin,” Niall lied, “I’m only Father’s messenger. I don’t really know why he has summoned you. I’m sorry, Erin.”
More sorry than you’ll ever know, little sister, he thought sadly. If only we were children and you were to be chastised about the geese.…
They were on the road for several days, but despite the size of their party, which included a hundred men-at-arms because of the obvious wealth and importance of the group, they found Irish hospitality fires and the Brehon hospitality laws practiced in the villages where they rested. Erin was always given the finest room in the inn or in the house of the town’s chief. They were well fed and entertained with enthusiasm in the poorest of the communities.
As they neared the Irish encampment before Du-bhlain, Erin felt the tremors she had learned to live with over the past few days increasing to uncontrollable shudders. She tried to reason with herself, assuring herself that she was her father’s pet. If he knew of her clandestine life, he might yell for hours, but what could he actually do? She was absurd to be afraid; what she had done had not been terrible, but righteous, and she would tell Aed so with dignity—after demurely begging with tears for his forgiveness and understanding. He would threaten her with confinement within a nunnery, or with marriage to some powerful but repulsive king, but he would never carry out such a threat. After all, it was the Golden Warri-oress who had assisted in the protection of Tara when her father’s troops had been needed to face the Vikings.
She blanched with the thought that all her reasoning had not changed the fact that Aed must have been furious indeed to summon her when he still maintained a position before the walls of Dubhlain. But she felt a rebellious fury herself; Niall had mumbled something about a truce being declared before the very walls that housed the Norwegian dog.
She was startled from all thought as they crested a hill and stared at the city. In the field before the walls, the tents of the Irish seemed to stretch forever. But it was the sight beyond the walls that stunned her. Du-bhlain was huge, far greater than even the endless fields of tents. From her vantage point Erin could see magnificent buildings within the boundaries, buildings that combined beautifully carved wood and stone.
“Father will want to see you right away,” Niall said curtly, nudging his horse onward. Erin’s mount automatically followed. They passed the tents of the nobles and their servers, and Erin bowed in return to the men who stood to stare respectfully, occasionally shouting cheers for Niall of Ulster and the daughter of Aed. Erin tried to smile, but she suddenly wanted nothing more than to turn her horse, thread her way through her own party until she found her sister Bede, confess all to the family nun, and beg that Bede call upon God to spirit them both away.
Her father’s tent was set somewhat apart from the others. She realized as they reached the slit opening that she and Niall rode alone. He drew his horse to a halt and dismounted to help her from her horse.
Erin met her brother’s eyes, and the pity she read in them sent her into a panic again. Father knows, he must know, what else can it be? she thought, her mind racing. She had defied a direct order.…
It occurred to her then that she was within touching distance of the greatest enemy she had ever known. I am the one who has been betrayed, she thought. My father’s army stands in force on the heels of the Wolf and they do nothing to annihilate him and his forces from the land.
She closed her eyes and momentarily envisioned the day by the stream. If only she had thrust her sword through his throat.… Another wave of panic engulfed her as she wondered if she would see the Wolf himself again. Would he remember her? It was possible. She had heaped threats and humiliation on him at a time when he was in pain, and she had quite adequately added to that pain when she had escaped him.
She swallowed hard and straightened her elegant mantle. No, she would not have to face the Wolf. Whatever truces were being made. Aed would surely not break bread with an animal. And no matter what his anger, Aed would not expect her to be hostess to the barbarians.
“Go in,” Niall said softly.
“Aren’t you coming with me, Niall?” she asked him sharply.
“Father wishes to see you alone.”
With that parting comment, Niall remounted his horse. Erin drew in a deep breath, desperately making last-minute plans. Should she be immediately humble, or should she appear angered herself that her father had drawn her from home and her mother to stand before a Viking wall?
She opened the flap and ducked inside the tent, then paused again. For perhaps the first time, she saw her father as others saw him. He sat upon a chair before a makeshift desk, studying parchments. His deep-violet mantle draped over the chair and brushed the ground. His face, in study, appeared fierce. The hand he rested upon his knee was large and strong. He glanced up at her, and she thought belatedly that she had never known her father’s eyes could be so sharp.
“Erin,” he said simply.
He has never looked at me like this, she thought, and felt as if her heart had ceased to beat. Something was wrong, terribly, terribly wrong. Aed was her father. He would not think of the good done by the Golden Warrioress, he would think only that she had directly disobeyed him and the law of the land, the Adamnan Cain.
If only she weren’t shaking, if only they were at Tara and not before the walls of the Viking stronghold, she would fly across the room to him, hug and kiss him, and attempt to flirt her way out of the situation. No, even at Tara she couldn’t have done it, not with this terrible tension about him! She lowered her lashes and felt her heart pound again, too loud, too fast. She offered her deepest, most humble and graceful bow, keeping her head respectfully inclined. “I humbly beg your pardon, my lord father.”
“For what?” The eyes which had so frozen her flashed with a moment of confusion.
He doesn’t know, Erin thought, fearing she would faint with relief. Then nothing she could have done could be so terrible for him to summon her.
She kept her lashes lowered. “For however I have offended you, Father,” she said demurely.
He adjusted his frame uncomfortably and averted his eyes from her to stare unseeingly at his parchment. “You have not offended me,” Aed said flatly. “I have summoned you because I have contracted your marriage.”
Erin frowned. If she was not in trouble, then she had every right to be indignant. “But, Father—”
“No ‘buts,’ mistress,” Aed suddenly roared. “I have been generous and lenient with you, daughter, for far too long.”
She could still argue him out of it, unless, of course, the noble should prove to be of her liking. Fennen? Of course! Her mind whirred as she stood before Aed, and she
almost smiled as she thought of her dreams upon the hill. Perhaps it was finally a time for peace, a time to explore her feelings for Fennen. Yes, she decided, she would marry, but only if the man was Fennen. She was suddenly riddled with chills again, certain Aed had another man in mind. Why drag her out to a battlefield to wed her to a man she had known for years? She lifted her eyes and faced Aed with spirit. “I understand the duties of a princess, Father, and, as is your command, I will marry. But I must tell you, Father, that I can only marry a man of my own choosing. If you have decided that I shall marry Fennen—”
Aed waved his arm impatiently and interrupted her speech. “It is not Fennen mac Cormac. I have contracted you to Olaf the White and you will speak your vows with him tomorrow before dusk.”
“What?”
The blood drained from her face, and she felt as if a great wave of northern water had cascaded over her.
“You heard me!” Aed Finnlaith was roaring because he couldn’t bear the shocked betrayal on her pale face. “Tomorrow you wed Olaf. The contracts are set, all is agreed.”
“Father! No! You couldn’t! You know how I despise the Vikings, how I loathe Olaf the White.” Erin began trembling. She had tried to convince herself it was a trick of her hearing, that it couldn’t be true, but it was, she could see it in her father’s eyes. “I will not do it!” she said firmly, forcing her trembling to cease.
“You will.” He was adamant.
Motion came to her legs and she threw herself at his feet, groping for his hands, and kneeled below him at his desk. “Father, please, I can’t. He is a barbarian! You cannot give your own flesh and blood to a northern scavenger. Wolf of Norway! Dog of Norway! You can’t, Father! I will marry Fennen, I will marry anyone, I will enter a religious order, but I cannot marry the Norwegian who butchered our family! Father, we are Irish. Brehon laws—our just laws—protect women—”
“And they also state that daughters should honor their fathers.” He would not even look at her. He stayed perfectly still, and his eyes remained glued to his parchment.
“Father!” she screeched the word, “Don’t you understand? I cannot do this, I would rather die! I will not say the words I must reply!” Still he didn’t look at her. She burst into tears. “Oh, please, Father, Please!”
She collapsed upon his knees, her sobs hysterical. He had never been able to deny my tears before, she thought bitterly, but now that they were real, he was as cold as steel. “You don’t understand,” she murmured in gasps, new horror dawning upon her at the thought of facing Olaf the White. He would probably kill her, or find a way to make her life an eternal torture.
She realized suddenly that the tent flap had opened and two burly warriors she did not know stood inside. Her father lifted a hand slightly and they approached.
“See that she is confined,” Aed said softly.
The warriors reached for her and Erin jerked away furiously, standing on her own power and lifting her chin. It was no hoax, no dream. The father she had adored all her life was throwing her coldly to the enemy. She had never thought Aed would offer the lowliest Irish whore to a Viking, but he was offering his own daughter. And she could not reach him. He had set up a shield that was unbreachable.
“Don’t touch me,” she told her bodyguards, sweeping the train of her mantle over an arm. “I am quite capable of walking on my own.” She preceded the men with head tilted, then paused at the flap of the tent. “You have told me, Father, and so I will tell you. I will not marry the Viking. Attempt to force me to do so and there will be a scene such as will make the strongest warrior blanch.”
Aed still did not look at her. “I am the Ard-Righ,” he said quietly, staring straight ahead. “I am your father, and in all that I could, I spoiled you. To cause you pain is agony within me but what I do now I must. For Ireland. For the land. She is more important than you or I, Erin. And for the land, and for the centuries and people to come, you will be the wife of the Wolf of Norway.”
Erin spun around, trying not to shake or cry again before the men. She walked regally between them as they led her past her father’s tent to a copse in which a second tent stood.
There were more guards around the tent. She shook off the hand of the stoic man who would have assisted her beneath the flaps, and slapped them shut behind her. Only then did she begin to shake.
“Erin?”
Bede awaited her in the tent, her eyes full of care and sympathy. Erin burst into tears once more and fell into her sister’s arms. “Oh, Bede,” she sobbed piteously, “Father … he … Olaf …”
“I know,” Bede soothed her, smoothing back her sister’s luxurious hair. “Shh, now, Erin.…”
Erin kept sobbing and the great convulsions tore at Bede’s heart. But it was when her sister stopped crying that she felt tremors herself.
Deadly calm with her beautiful and immense eyes feverishly dazzled to a shade beyond a gemstone, Erin whispered venomously, “I will not do it, Bede. I will not marry him, and no one can force me. They can place a knife to my throat and I will not do it.” Erin stood and began to pace the tent with agitation. “I will hire a Brehon to speak my case.”
Bede knew Erin was serious, and she trembled within. The look upon her sister’s face went beyond chilling. “Erin,” she interrupted softly, “you will never find a Brehon to take your case against the Ard-Righ. And I hear that the Wolf is a fierce fighter, but a gentle man. Niall tells me that his residence is the finest he has ever seen. Olaf has sworn to father that you will receive every respect due a princess of Tara. Truly, Erin, it will not be so bad. I will stay with you for a while, and you will have your ladies. And many Irish families will be beyond the walls. Our architects wish to study the Norse method of building. And he is a fine man, they say. His teeth are fine, no pockmarks mar his face. He will be gentle, Erin—”
Erin started to laugh and the laughing terrified Bede. Gentle! With her! The man would never, never, in a thousand years be gentle to her. Not that it would matter, for she would hate him past the grave.
I should have killed him when I had the chance, she thought furiously.
Then another thought took over. Maybe if she told her father about the meeting in the woods, Aed would realize that he was handing her over to an animal.
No, she could tell him, but that would only make Aed more determined that she be wed as planned. His mind had hardened against her and all he thought about was his precious land.
“You must lie down and rest, Erin,” Bede murmured, interrupting Erin’s internal battling.
Erin looked at her sister. “I am not going to marry him, Bede. I am going to escape tonight. I have given the people and the land enough,” she said bitterly, and Bede frowned.
“Erin, how will you escape? The tent is guarded—”
“There are those who would help me,” Erin said. “When it is night, I will escape. I have my sword with my things, and I know how to use it.”
Bede was shocked, but more than that she was worried, both about Erin’s state of mind and the consequences that could come from it.
“Well, sister,” she said aloud, “if you would escape, you must eat. I’m going to fetch a full and nourishing dinner.”
Erin glanced up, her eyes suddenly sparkling. “You’re right, Bede, I’m going to need all my strength! See too if you can’t find extra bread and dried meat. I don’t know how long I will have to ride.”
Bede felt a terrible twinge of guilt, but she nodded and smiled. “I’ll be right back.”
She left Erin and headed for her father’s tent. He was in council with Niall and a group of the lesser Ulster kings, but as soon as he saw the worried frown upon her face, he asked that the room be cleared.
“Father,” Bede said anxiously, “I am worried about Erin, very worried. She means it when she says she will not wed the Viking; she intends to attempt to escape tonight. Of course she will fail, Father, but that scares me even worse. I believe she’d allow herself to be killed—even at the altar�
�to escape this.”
The agony that flashed through Aed’s eyes made Bede catch her breath. She set an arm around his shoulders, knowing his pain. “She will one day forgive you, Father.”
“Will she?” Aed patted her hand absently, then shook his head. “If only she would see reason.…” He lifted a brow in a hopeless gesture. “Do you know what is strange, Bede? I trust him far more than I do most of my own generals. He is an honorable man.”
Bede said nothing but silently stood by.
Aed sighed wearily. “Whatever her heart or passions, she must marry Olaf.” He paused in thought for a moment. “Stay here. Mergwin is somewhere in the trees. I will be back.”
“I told Erin I would bring her something to eat and food to pack for an escape,” Bede said nervously.
Aed nodded, called a guard, and sent him for an ample supply of food. He disappeared out the tent flap himself and Bede fidgeted about her father’s large tent. She hated deception and wounding Erin. But like her father, Bede had the ability to forget the individual for the good of the many. The intercourse between the Vikings and Irish at Dubhlain was a miracle. Perhaps it was a miracle that wouldn’t last. There were still many outlaw bands of Danes as well as Norwegian and Swedish raiders who would die rather than change their ways. But for the time, countless people were going to live because the strengths of her father and Olaf were combined.
Aed returned quietly. He handed Bede a tiny vial of powder. “Half, and she will sleep through the night. She will awake docile. You must see that she gets a quarter more in the morning, then the final dose before the evening. Do you understand?”
Bede winced, but nodded to her father.
I’m awake, Erin thought. But she wasn’t really awake, she had to be dreaming. There was light streaking through the tent, and in reality, it had to be dark. And she had to be asleep dreaming, because Bede would have woken her long ago if it had been day.
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