Beyond a Darkened Shore(88)

Rúna leaned forward. “But how did you come to have such an army?”

I thought of the two hundred men who had died, including my father, and the walls within me rose. “I paid a very high price.”

Leif returned then, a rolled-up piece of leather tucked under his arm. He dragged a table over by the fire and unrolled the map. As we crowded around it, I examined the whole of his homeland for the first time: a jagged piece of land mostly made up of rivers, fjords, and mountains.

“Most of your land looks uninhabitable,” I said, my finger tracing all the lines that represented water. “It’s impressive you manage to have any farms at all.”

“Was that a compliment?” Leif asked, humor shining in his eyes.

I made a rude sound in the back of my throat. “Don’t make me regret giving it. Let’s plan our strategy.”

Leif grinned but turned back to the task at hand readily enough. His finger traced the lines of rivers leading from his village to Skien. “We could sail the ships up the rivers that end up to the north of Skien. From there, we can approach on foot.”

“That is a much better ambush strategy,” Rúna said. “I doubt they’ll have any sentinels—they believe themselves to be invincible.” She peered closely at the map. “If I’m not mistaken, though, there is a glacier nearby that will only slow our progress.”

“We’ll avoid it. But you’re wrong, they will have watchmen.” He glanced at me. “Now that Fenris knows we’re amassing an army.”

Rúna nodded grimly. “Then we will have to move swiftly.”

As they continued to debate the best rivers to take, a subtle fluttering sound drew my attention to the window.

A great black bird stared back at me from outside the glass. My first thought was that it was the Morrigan, come to offer her own advice, but then I remembered she had told me she could not come to this land. The bird let out a low croak, and I realized it wasn’t a crow, which the Morrigan always appeared as, but a raven instead. Unlike a crow, it had a tuft of feathers just above its beak. I followed the line of its sight and realized it wasn’t looking at me at all.

It was watching Leif.





24





The rest of the day had progressed quickly: deciding strategy, gathering weapons, and welcoming another ally. The raven that had so intensely watched Leif through the window had flown away, though the sensation we were being watched lingered. Fear crept over me as I thought about Leif’s agreement with the Valkyrie. Were they watching to make sure he kept his end of the bargain?

That prickly wariness still had not left me by the evening feast. As we entered the main hall, the din of a room full of voices greeted me. It seemed that the entire village had come to celebrate the return of Leif and his men. The smells of roasting meats, fresh-baked bread, and freely flowing ale and mead scented the air, and many eyes were upon me as I walked beside Leif.

He reached for my hand, and I took it. I had to resist the urge to clutch his hand to ease my worry that I would lose him at the end of this. I pushed such thoughts away before they could drag me under. I refused to live in fear.

Leif led me to one of the two chairs on the dais and clasped my hand again once we were seated. When I glanced at him, I could see that his face was pale.

“Are you all right?” I whispered.

His answering smile was a nervous one, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. My eyes scanned the people in the hall, searching for Leif’s father in the crowd, but I could not find him. But all who met my gaze greeted me with a welcoming smile. I thought of the reactions of my own clansmen should I place an outsider in such a place of honor and sank down in my chair. I had seen so little of this land so far, and nothing was as I had expected.

Leif stood—reluctantly, it seemed to me—and the hall quieted. “Freemen and women, I’ve brought back a powerful ally as promised.” He turned and held out his hand to me, and I got to my feet beside him. “This is Ciara, Princess of Mide, Queen of Dyflin. She single-handedly brought down a j?tunn and defeated King Sigtrygg. Her prowess is well-known in éirinn, and her abilities rival my own.”

Loud murmurs of approval followed Leif’s impressive introduction of me, and I was surprised by how much I wanted to live up to such words.

“She brings with her a powerful army—men who do not easily fall. And we have sent call to our allies. Some of you have already lost men and women to the j?tnar, and though you still mourn for your dead, there is only one thing that can ease your suffering: revenge.” Many nods and shouts rang out from all those listening. “Tomorrow, we will sail to Skien and defeat Fenris in his own city.”

Another roar of approval soared up at this, and Leif flashed his teeth. “Who here will join in the battle ahead?”

Men from the ship were the first to step forward, to offer themselves as warriors. Their wives nodded their approval, their chins held high with pride. As if caught up in the ritual of it all, Sigtrygg’s men volunteered as well. It surprised me that though Leif’s father was jarl, he still invited the men to volunteer, rather than forcing them into service. Others from the village stepped forward, all pledging their aid.

But when Arinbjorn stepped forward, Leif shook his head. “No, Arin,” he said. “Not this time.”