“I’m sure I look terrible, but at least I’m not dead,” I said, my voice rough with the damage done to my throat. “I won’t be able to enter the great hall looking like this, but we must find the other man who was that monster’s companion. Have you seen him?”
Arinbjorn shook his head. “No. I searched the entire hall for Leif, and I would have noticed that man.”
My stomach dropped at the news. Whose flesh was he feasting on if not the boar’s? “Do you know where Leif and the king are speaking?”
“One of the servants told me. It’s not far.” He strode away, and I followed as best I could, my lungs protesting every breath.
Arin halted in front of a thick wooden door. When he lifted his hand to knock, I stopped him and put my finger to my mouth in a sign of silence. Voices drifted out from the room, both of which were familiar to me.
“I have told you everything I know of the men calling themselves the Bane of Odin,” the king said.
“They aren’t men,” Leif said in a voice full of disgust. “They’re monsters.”
“They are strong fighters whatever they are, though I’ve heard rumors of rather . . . dark appetites. But enough of that. What of the princess you bring to my court?” His tone turned almost gleeful, and I grimaced at the door. “She is a price worth more than gold.”
“She is not for sale.”
The king lowered his voice, so that I was forced to press my ear against the door like an eavesdropping servant. “She’s worth a small army. Men you’re in need of for your cause.” My hands tightened to fists when Leif did not immediately respond. “Hear me out, warrior. The princess is the heir to the throne of Mide, and a legendary warrior in her own right. Once they discover I have her, there’s nothing her clansmen wouldn’t give to get her back. I’m not so proud as to think I can keep her here against her will—I know I lack the power to imprison someone with her abilities—but with your aid, I could hold her for ransom. My own son cost over a thousand head of cattle as ransom, and the princess and heir is worth so much more.”
The king’s words made no sense. Had he not told me earlier that he’d made peace with my father? Why risk his wrath and vengeance by holding me for ransom? Worse, Leif didn’t seem to be arguing with him.
Finally, Leif said, “What do you propose?”
I turned on my heel and stalked away.
“Princess Ciara, wait,” Arinbjorn whispered urgently.
He caught up to me despite my angry strides. “Leave me,” I said.
“You didn’t hear my brother agree, he wouldn’t—”
“I heard more than enough.”
Silenced by a sharp look from me, he still followed me doggedly to my room. He watched as I gathered my few belongings: my sword and the clothes I had arrived with, thoughtfully mended—no doubt by Aideen, who now lay in pieces outside the stables.
“You cannot leave,” he said, his eyes pleading. “What about those men who may be jötnar? You must explain what you found to Leif. I don’t know how you defeated that monster, but I know my brother will need your help.”
“Why should I stay? You were witness as well as I, and I won’t stay here as a captive.” I was so enraged that I shook all over.
“What of the quest? You would abandon it?”
I stopped, one hand on the door handle. In truth, I hadn’t thought further than my own escape from this castle, and his words stirred an unwelcome twinge of guilt. “What would you have me do? Wait in my room until your brother comes to put me in chains? He has betrayed me.” An aching pain swiftly followed that statement; I was a fool to have ever trusted him. To have ever thought he could be anything but my enemy was the worst kind of mistake.
“You don’t know that for sure,” he said weakly.
“I know enough not to take the risk.”
I opened the door and stepped into a wall of Northman chest. With an angry hiss, I jumped back.
I faced Leif with my weight balanced on both legs, my hand loose at my side, prepared to unsheathe my sword at the slightest provocation.
His eyes swept over my body, seemingly seeing me for the first time. “What has happened, Ciara? Are you injured?” His face darkened. “Did one of my men—”
He reached toward me, but I jerked away.
The sudden concern reflected in his voice and countenance set my teeth on edge. “You dare ask after my well-being after you’ve made such an agreement with the king?”
Leif’s eyes shifted to his brother behind me. “Arin, leave us.”
Arinbjorn’s jaw tightened for a moment, but he nodded stiffly and strode out of the room.
Leif watched him go before turning back to me. “There is no arrangement I’ve made with the king save where I’ll sleep this night. Enough of this. Address me directly. What injury have I done you?”
His obvious confusion had my anger fading, and I grasped for it like a drowning man reached toward the surface of the water. “Do you deny conspiring with the king to hold me for ransom?”
“I absolutely deny it. Why would I agree to an act that would guarantee the loss of alliance between you and me?”
“For more men. For the army you need,” I said, feeling my argument slipping away with every breath. “You can’t deny the conversation even took place; both your brother and I overheard.”
He let out a sharp laugh. “He did agree to lend me more men and ships, but it’s something he is bound by oath to give me. You know this.”
“I know what I heard,” I said, my hands in fists at my side. “You never denounced his plan.”
“Then you didn’t stay long enough. Have I not shown you I can be trusted? I killed one of my own men in defense of your honor.”
I shook my head. “He could have been someone you wanted to kill anyway for insubordination, and I was only the excuse. How am I to know? I barely know you!”
He took a step toward me. “You know me enough to almost kiss me.”
His words snatched away my breath. “Perhaps, but I didn’t.”
“You want to,” he said, and that fire I’d seen before in his eyes lit again. “You want to do more than that.”
Heat scorched my cheeks. “What right do you have to say such things to me?”
“I have no right, and I can’t make you trust me either. You can always come up with a counterargument, but in the end, you will have to choose: Will you be my ally and trust me, or not? Besides,” he said with a grin, “did you believe I could ever hold you captive against your will?”
The last of my anger escaped me in a sigh. “I don’t know what to believe of you, that much is clear.”
“We’re allies, and I would never betray my ally. I am a man of my word. Honor is the only code we uphold, and I would die for it.”
His words rang true, and I had to admire that about him. It almost made me feel bad that I’d doubted him. “Then how did you leave things with the king? Was he not angry when you refused to hold me captive?”
“Furious, actually. But not enough to dare test his might against mine. You have nothing to fear from him.”
“There are worse things in this castle than a pompous little king,” I said.
Leif stilled. “What do you mean?”
“I came upon one of those hideous men from last night . . . cannibalizing my maidservant. He may not have been the size of a giant, but his strength was far beyond a mortal man’s. Can you make any sense of it?” I was reminded, suddenly, of the old gods appearing to us as crows and ravens and stags. “Do they have the power to transform themselves?”
His brows furrowed. “Many of the jötnar have power over the elements, even over nature itself, but I haven’t heard of the ability to transform.”
I thought of the awesome beauty of nature, and nightmarish images of the snake-nosed Northman tearing into Aideen’s arm filled my mind. “But surely their behavior goes against nature. . . .”
“Not all the jötnar are evil. Even Lord Odin’s mother is jötnar.”
<
br /> I shook my head at him. “And you didn’t think this was information I should know?”
“It never came up. The jötnar we must destroy are the ones who call themselves the Bane of Odin.”
I remembered the king saying that during his conversation with Leif, and I frowned. “Are those . . . creatures we saw last night in league with Sigtrygg?”
Leif considered for a moment. “Sigtrygg is constantly seeking strong allies, and I’m sure they took advantage of that. I wouldn’t put it past the king to join forces with them. I think Sigtrygg may be even more interested in raids than my own people. He isn’t satisfied with merely being king of Dyflin; he wants to be king of all of Éirinn.”
My stomach dropped at the news. “I knew he had designs on Mide, but I didn’t realize he was that power-hungry.”
“Enough so that he would form an alliance with abominations,” Leif said, disgust clear in his voice. “We shouldn’t remain in this city for much longer. The creature that attacked you—where is he now?”
“I killed him.” I touched my neck and took a shuddering breath. I could almost feel his hands around my throat once again.
“Alone? If he was truly jötnar, then how could such a thing be possible? Did the Morrigan lend you aid?”
I shook my head, for once unoffended by his skepticism. The snake-nosed Northman was a superior foe; by all rights, I should have been dead. “I can’t explain it. He nearly choked the life from me, but I was able to grab hold of his mind and fight back. When I did, something strange happened. . . .” I trailed off as I tried to think of the right way to explain what had happened when I could barely understand it myself. “I separated my spirit from my body and was able to crush the giant’s heart.”
He nodded slowly, and I could tell he was as perplexed as I was. “I thank the gods you were able to—it scares me when I think of what could have happened . . .” He glanced at my throat and swallowed.
I lifted one shoulder and let it drop as though the mere memory of the battle with the giant—and what I’d found it doing to that poor girl—didn’t absolutely fill me with terror.
“Had you ever done that before—separated your spirit from your body?”
I hesitated. “Just once. After the battle in the Faerie Tunnel. I had no idea it was a new manifestation of power.” That thought reminded me of Leif’s kindness in caring for me, and I felt a blush creep over my bruised throat.
He reached out and ran a finger gently along my jaw. “Are you in pain? I cannot stand the thought of you being nearly killed.”
I stifled the delicious shiver that trailed along my spine at his touch. Why did he have this effect on me?
His eyes swept over my body, to the bed behind me. My pulse quickened. Unbidden, wanton thoughts of tearing the clothes from his body, my nails digging into the flesh of his back as I pressed myself against him came upon me. My body filled with heat. At the same time, disgust churned within me. What maid had thoughts such as these? About a murderous Northman, no less.
And now, a boy who had no intention of marriage—did the Northmen even marry?—who surely only wanted a night of pleasure, watched me with desire. He was my ally now, yes, but how could I forget that he had been my enemy? My lips parted to bid him good night, but the words would not come.
He took a step toward me, his gaze intent on mine. He was close enough to touch. Close enough to kiss. My breath hitched in my throat. I wanted him. For a moment, the temptation was so intense, I nearly succumbed to it.
He is a Northman, I reminded myself harshly.
I ducked my head and pushed back against his wide chest. “I cannot.”
Desire still burned in his eyes, but he took a step back. “You would deny you want this as much as I?” I could hear the disappointment hidden behind his words.
“I don’t deny it,” I said softly, “but it comes at too high a price.”
He took a step back. “I won’t push you. It’s enough that you continue to trust me.”
I flashed him a smile. “I never said that.”
A hesitant knock sounded from my door and we both turned. “Brother?” Arinbjorn called. “I must speak with you.”
Leif pulled open the door, and Arinbjorn hurried through, his features tense. “The other man has fled. I discovered it just now from a servant.”
Leif tensed. “Did the servant see where he went?”
“Only that he took his warhorse and headed toward the north end of the city.”
“Then we must follow. Arin, ready the horses. I will bring whoever is sober enough to come.”
“I’m sober,” Arin said.
Leif put his arm around his brother. “You must stay here. You have the makings of a great warrior, but that time hasn’t come yet. Ciara and I will track the other and, after defeating it, return here.”
Arin frowned. “I would rather go with you, brother.”
Leif’s expression brooked no argument. “You’re fortunate that I haven’t sent you home with an armed guard. You may remain with our men, but you will not go directly into danger.”
He nodded stiffly, and I shot him a look of sympathy. I knew it was hard at that age to be told you couldn’t fight, and yet I understood why Leif wouldn’t want his brother to face such danger. When I was only a little older than Arin, and my powers had barely manifested, I was riding on the beach when I spotted the sails of a Northman raider. I’d begged Fergus and Conall to let me stay, but they’d dragged me from the shore like a wolf will prevent a young cub from joining the hunt. Luckily, that particular battle had gone no farther than our shores.
Arin might have already learned the basics of fighting, but he wasn’t skilled enough to face these monsters—none of us were. I glanced down at my torn gown, suddenly desperate to change into my own clothing, my familiar armor. I looked up to find Leif watching me.
“I am sorry you cannot have a moment to rest,” he said gently. His eyes fell on my neck, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Your throat will likely cause you the most pain.”
It was one of many bruises and injuries, but I had long set aside the pain. It would torture me later, when I was at rest, but while I was still active and focused on other things, it was more than bearable. “I’ll be fine.” I took a step back, away from him and away from the concern in his eyes. “I’ll join you in the stables, but first I must change. This gown restricts my movement far too much.”
Arin snickered. “Not in pieces like it is.”
I shooed him away with an answering grin. “Go. Leave me. I’ll join you both soon.”
13
After an affectionate good-bye to Arin, who surprised me by throwing his arms around me for an embrace, Leif and I mounted our warhorses. Leif had somehow acquired a massive chestnut horse, its broad back and powerful shoulders strong enough to carry two men comfortably. I suspected he’d merely helped himself to any in the king’s stable, and if so, it would be only what the king deserved.
Four of Leif’s men had managed to rouse themselves, and after donning chain mail and leather armor, mounted their own borrowed chargers.
Leif brought his horse beside mine, the evening breeze ruffling the silver wolf’s pelt he wore over his shoulders. “Remind Princess Ciara of your names again,” he said to his men. “It’s only right that she should know the names of the men she will fight beside.”
“You already know me,” Gunnarr said with a grin. He was the one who reminded me so much of Conall that I couldn’t help but smile back.
“I am Ulf,” another said in a rumbly voice. He was so large I wondered if his horse would be able to keep up with the rest of us.
Another moved his horse forward. “And I am Olafur. You’ll remember me because I’ll be the one to bring him down—jötnar or not.” He grinned menacingly, and the others laughed. I smiled because I would remember him more for the dragon tattoo on his neck.
Leif motioned for the young warrior to the right of me to speak. “Eadric,” he said. Both his hair
and beard were in elaborate braids. His manner was aloof, as though he was ready to be off and had no time for our introductions. I thought he would prove to be a merciless fighter.
I gave them as graceful a bow as I could from atop Sleipnir. No meaningless platitudes were necessary with this lot; their attention had long since shifted back to Leif.
“We head for the north gate,” Leif said, already urging his horse into a canter.
We followed him through the filthy Dubhlinn streets, an unpleasant tugging sensation growing in my abdomen the closer we got to the gates. With the sun setting, the city was loud, filled with people hurrying to finish the day’s work. Aside from the sound of the horses, our party was grimly silent.
Leif pulled his charger to a stop once we passed through the north gate. “North?” he asked me.
I scanned the ground for signs of passage, but there were no tracks in the hard, rocky earth to follow. Sleipnir snorted impatiently. A wind teased the ends of my hair as I faced north, and the air turned unnaturally cold.
“North,” I agreed.
We urged our horses into a breakneck pace. The farther north of Dubhlinn we went, the colder the wind grew, until it seemed as though nature itself shuddered at the passage of such an abomination.
After hours of galloping until the wind had whipped our faces raw, alternating with intervals of allowing the horses to slow so they would not be blown, we stopped at a stream to let the horses drink.
Leif surveyed the banks warily. “There won’t be any other Gaelic monstrosities to slow us, will there?”
Olafur patted his horse, whose sides were already heaving. “Is this land as dangerous as ours, then?”
“I pray not,” I said. “I have traveled far across Éirinn and never encountered so much as a wisp, but as soon as I joined Leif on his quest, I have encountered creatures I’d only heard tales of. But then, the hunter in the Faerie Tunnel told us the giants have been disturbing them.”
“It cannot be much farther,” Olafur said. His small eyes scanned our surroundings. “He didn’t have much of a head start.”
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