Beyond a Darkened Shore(41)

My anger ignited. “And I suppose it’s my fault he attacked me, then? I shouldn’t have been there—being all female and tempting?”

“Of course it’s not your fault—”

“I came here to find your seer, not look for danger,” I interrupted, more than a little disgusted at the implied blame. And, if I was being honest, still a little shaken up from the sudden outbreak of violence. “Obviously she isn’t among you lot of barbarians, so I’ll look elsewhere.” I turned on my heel to go.

“I haven’t been afraid many times in my life,” Leif said suddenly, “but I was afraid when Ulric threatened you.” He reached out and touched my cheek, and I was so shocked by the sudden touch that I froze. “I’ve never felt such rage.”

Horribly, I thought of my dream earlier that night, of Leif nearly kissing me. My eyes dropped to his mouth, and horror washed over me as I realized I was actually contemplating what it would be like to feel his lips on mine. He took a step closer to me, and my gaze jumped to his. My heart pounded when I saw the flare of heat trapped within the icy blue of his eyes.

You want him, a part of me whispered, and I stamped down on that part of me with a hiss. He was a Northman.

I pulled back, remembering why I’d come down to the hall in the first place—to find the seer. Before I could say anything else, the doors to the great hall opened. Leif’s attention shifted—reluctantly, it seemed—to the hall entrance. I turned to see two men enter. They weren’t the same men who had left with Ulric’s body, but they appeared much the same as the others. Tall, blond, bearish.

Leif caught the eye of Gunnarr and made a sharp gesture with his chin. Gunnarr moved toward us, pulling his axe free.

“Who are they?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Leif said.

The men strode toward one of the tables nearest to us, and I took an unintentional step back when I saw them. Their faces looked like melted wax, as though they’d been badly burned early in life. Their brows drooped heavily, almost into their eyes. One’s nose was as prominent as a horse’s, the other’s was barely there, like a snake’s. Ordinarily, such a sight would move me to pity. Gazing upon these men, however, the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I shivered as though a cold wind suddenly howled through the hall.

If they noticed the rising tension in the room, the drawn weapons, they gave no sign of it. They tore into dark loaves of bread voraciously, seemingly unaware of their environment. And yet they had an aura about them of malevolence, as if a sudden movement might provoke them to violence.

The one with the snake nose leaned toward the other and spoke rapidly in a language I didn’t recognize. It was harsh and guttural, and all at once, I froze. I had heard such a language before. In the crow’s vision.

“We should see who they are,” Leif said, and took a step toward them, a determined set to his jaw. My hand shot out and grasped his arm. He glanced down at me in surprise.

“This hall has seen enough blood for the night,” I said in a low tone.

Leif’s brow furrowed, but he did not attempt to remove my hand.

Were these the j?tnar we hunted? Though they were easily the tallest men in the room, they weren’t giants. And yet . . . I remembered the sound of their language. Your enemies are closer than you think, the Morrigan had said, and the stag in the wood had said giants were stirring up the creatures of éirinn. Still, engaging them here, without knowing for sure who they were and what they were capable of, was folly. I glanced at Leif and Gunnarr. Leif had just slayed one of his own. What might he do with an enemy? I wouldn’t risk it.

A female servant entered the room then, her bearing much less timid than that of the handmaiden who had waited upon me. Her wide hips swished as she made her way to the j?tnar’s table fearlessly. I tensed, suddenly afraid for her. “My lords,” she said, “your rooms have been prepared, and I am sorry for your wait.” Her eyes surveyed the room, a look of disgust on her face. “The hall is in poor condition at the moment. Would you mind taking your meals in your rooms?”

They shook their disfigured heads and stood, towering over the woman. “You may show us the way,” the one with the prominent nose said, his Gaelic as guttural as his own language.

The servant nodded slowly, as though she had trouble understanding. “Follow me,” she said after a moment.

From what Leif had told me, I thought the j?tnar would be so hungry for human flesh that they’d attack the woman right there in the hall. Though nothing happened, I couldn’t deny the skitter of warning across my skin.

Leif watched them with an alert wariness until they finally left the hall. As though a great storm had passed, the tension disappeared from the room. Gunnarr lowered his axe, and I let out a slow breath.

“Should we follow?” Gunnarr asked. “I didn’t like the look of them. We can cleave their ugly troll heads from their bodies before they have the chance to attack.”

“You can’t attack someone just because you don’t like the way they look,” I said, though I had to admit I understood the feeling. “You don’t even know who they are.”

“I know they raised the hair on the back of my neck,” Gunnarr said with a look of disgust. “That’s enough for me.”

“Perhaps the seer has the answer?” I said with a glance at Leif. I was happy to have an excuse to talk to the seer. Leif still hadn’t said anything, and his face was a mask of stone. “Perhaps she can divine whether they are friend or foe.”