Beyond a Darkened Shore(44)

“A feast, a great feast for a successful raid,” a loud baritone of a voice called behind me.

I glanced up to see a man unremarkable in appearance save for his height, dressed in a tunic of red and gold, as though he wished to match the tablecloths. He did not wear a crown upon his head, but it was clear from the way his eyes surveyed the room possessively, and the richness of his clothes, that he was the king.

He took notice of me, the only lady in the room in a sea of servants, and hastened to my side. “I thought I knew of every guest in this castle, but I confess, I am at a loss as to who you might be.” There was no accusation in his tone, only curiosity, his light brown eyes watching me with interest.

“Forgive me, your grace,” I said. “I arrived in the company of Leif Olafsson.”

Loud footfalls behind me announced another’s presence, and the king and I both turned. Leif stepped forward, his brother just a step or two behind him, and the king greeted them both with a wide smile. “Olafsson! I am honored to have you at my court.”

Leif gave a stiff bow. “My thanks for sheltering my men until I could return.”

“You mean until you could make your escape.” King Sigtrygg laughed. “Ah, well, it was no hardship on my part. Though they have run my servants ragged.” His eyes shifted to me. “But I was surprised to find a great lady such as this in your company. I am still waiting for an introduction.”

“This is Ciara Leannán, Princess of Mide.”

I reluctantly lowered into a curtsy. When I rose again, there was a light in the king’s eyes, a sort of greedy hunger. “A warrior princess accompanying you. What a perfect alliance. I should have known who you were the moment I saw you. The dark-haired warrior daughter of the king of Mide. I had wondered why you weren’t at your father’s side.”

I stiffened. “You’ve seen my father?”

He smiled, but there was nothing friendly in the gesture. “I have only just come from Mide. The king was more than hospitable.” His smile widened. “Indeed, I feel richer just having dined at his table.”

It was hard to imagine my father allowing this king to dine in our halls, but I was more concerned with news of my mother and sisters. “Then my family is well? My mother and sisters?”

“The queen and the princesses were in excellent health when I left only a few days ago,” he said, and I let out a breath in relief. “Your mother was equally hospitable after the king and I came to an agreement.”

An agreement? The king of Dubhlinn was responsible for the raid on the monastery. It had seemed like my father was more inclined toward battle with Sigtrygg than peace. But that was a fortnight ago. What had happened to change áthair’s mind? “I hope it was an arrangement of peace.”

“We came to a very peaceful arrangement in the end,” the king agreed, but there was still something about his tone that was off. I couldn’t trust him.

The king’s eyes fell on Arinbjorn, who was shifting from one foot to the other as though he’d rather be running than standing by idly. “This boy looks just like you,” he said to Leif, “but he is much too old to be your son. He is your kinsman?”

“My brother,” Leif said.

“Brother to a great warrior. Are you as skilled?”

Arinbjorn crossed his arms over his chest. His expression mimicked the arrogance of his brother’s. “As skilled in what?”

Had this been one of my sisters, I would have been mortified at the audacity of such a question, but Leif only grinned.

“In battles, son,” the king said, a slight edge to his voice. “In raids, in warfare.”

“No one is as skilled as my brother,” Arinbjorn said with a proud glance at Leif.

“They say the princess comes close,” the king said, “and there are two Northmen here who claim to have abilities no one has seen before. It makes me long for a coliseum. How I would love to pit your skills against one another.”

His wistful look shot a fiery disdain through my heart. “Such barbarism is long dead, your grace,” I said.

“A pity. I shall have to satisfy my bloodlust with raids like any other Northman.”

A curse sprang to the tip of my tongue, but I managed to suppress it. “If you’ll excuse me, I must be sure my horse is being properly cared for,” I said with a shallow curtsy.

Leif pushed Arinbjorn toward me. “Go with her,” he said.

His brother looked as though he would protest, but then he nodded.

Sleipnir was no doubt well cared for, but I was sure that if I stayed a moment longer, I would forget myself and say something that would bring the wrath of the king down upon my house and clan.

The stables were quiet. It seemed everyone was preparing for the feast in the castle, and there wasn’t a single groom to be found. The soft sounds of the horses and the smell of fresh hay soothed some of my anger at the king. He might have been polite, but I couldn’t help but dislike him. Not after everything he had done—raiding and pillaging our kingdom and many others like a Northman. He had a falseness to him that I didn’t trust.

Arinbjorn leaned against the wall, a sulky expression on his young face. His eyes followed my every movement as I checked Sleipnir for soundness and fed him a handful of grain.

“You needn’t be so sullen,” I said. “Would you rather listen to the blustering of a foolish king?”