Beyond a Darkened Shore

His eyes flicked to mine briefly. “I won’t know what to think until I see him. Arinbjorn is loyal to a fault—he may have decided to sneak out and come find me on his own—especially if the king has been unwelcoming to my people.”

The two guards returned, followed by a small army of Northman warriors. As I always did when faced with numerous Northmen, I searched for the one who had murdered my sister and was relieved to find none that bore his resemblance. Leif strode toward them and clasped forearms with a Northman with graying hair who was as big as an ox. The others took turns pounding Leif roughly on the back.

As they all grinned widely at one another, I stepped closer to Sleipnir, my hand on his neck. A twinge of anger shot through me at the sight of them: the men who had killed many of my clansmen. The men who would have killed or enslaved our people and pillaged our castle if we had not fought to stop them. But now these were the allies of my ally. An image arose unbidden in my mind: of Leif’s heated gaze, and my body’s shameful reaction.

How could I have dishonored my family so abominably?

“What took you so long, Leif?” one of the warriors asked, drawing my attention away from my own thoughts. “We’ve all aged ten years waiting on you. We’ve waited a fortnight at least. We would have left, only the seer told us to stay.”

The others laughed, but Leif and I shared a look. To us, it had been only three days. Anything could have happened in such a length of time. I glanced back at the entrance to the bailey. My sisters . . .

Leif, too, seemed taken aback. He leaned toward me as though to say something, but then a commotion drew our attention to the castle keep. Someone was coming toward us.

The Northman warriors parted, and a slip of a boy walked through, his head hung low. Leif watched his progress, his arms crossed, his face betraying no emotion.

Arinbjorn stopped in front of Leif, eyes cast to the ground, as though he expected censure from his brother. And I remembered: Leif had said when we first met that his brother had been a stowaway. “I’m sorry, brother. You won’t tell our father, will you?”

Leif surprised us all by laughing. “I’m sure he already knows, Arin.” He took a step forward and embraced his brother, and I let out the breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. Arin wrapped his slim arms as best he could around Leif’s broad back.

Leif patted his brother’s head of hair, as tawny as his own, and Arinbjorn smiled up at him. After a moment, Leif turned to me and called my name. Arinbjorn’s smile quickly faded as I approached.

He rubbed the back of his head. “This is the maiden warrior who tried to bash in my head.”

In my mind, I saw Leif as he was when first he appeared on the battlefield, like an avenging angel, swooping in to protect his younger brother. It was becoming clear that he cared for his siblings as much as I did mine.

Leif smiled. “If she had intended to brain you, Arin, she would have.” He turned back to his warriors. “This is Princess Ciara of Mide.”

The gray-haired ox of a Northman roared with laughter. “Only Leif War Hammer could so easily deceive his captor into joining his cause.” He appraised me with small, dark eyes that lingered much too long on my chest, my hips, my legs. “I hope ye have convinced her to join you in your bed as well.” The others laughed riotously as red-hot anger flared within me.

“You dare—” I started, but Leif stepped forward until he was only an inch away from the other Northman’s face.

Leif’s face was as darkly ominous as a thundercloud. “Gunnarr,” he addressed the man, “this is no serving wench at a low tavern—this is a princess, and more importantly, my ally. Speak to her in such a way again, and I will personally make sure your next breath will be your last.”

I attempted to hide the surprise from my face, but my eyes remained wide. I hadn’t expected Leif to defend me so ferociously against his fellow men.

The smug smiles on the faces of all the Northmen disappeared as one. “You have my apologies, milady,” Gunnarr said. “I hadn’t realized how much—” He paused and seemed to choose his words more carefully. “I hadn’t realized you were an ally.”

I dipped my head but said nothing, neither accepting his apology nor refusing it. Many of the others were appraising me openly, their eyes scanning the length of me.

“Milady?” Just then a soft-spoken maidservant appeared at my side, giving the small army of Northmen a wide berth. “I am Aideen. I will serve as handmaiden to you during your stay. A room has been prepared for you, as well as new garments.” Her gaze flicked over the blood matted in my hair. “The men also said you’d been injured, but our healer accompanied the king,” she said apologetically. “I have some healing skills, though, and I’ll prepare a bath and a poultice for you at once.”

The many small wounds upon my body ached, as though calling attention to them only caused further injury. “That would be most welcome,” I said.

“Follow me, milady,” she said. She stopped short when I followed with Sleipnir in tow. “No groom has come for the horse yet? I will run and fetch one.”

A shadow fell as she hurried away, and I looked up to find Leif towering over me. My heart raced in answer, and I scowled as though I could will away my feelings with a frown. The rest of Leif’s men were moving back toward the castle, their heavy footsteps and loud voices creating so much clamor it was hard to hear anything else.

Even still Leif leaned close to my ear and said in a low voice, “You’ll not listen to me, but I’ll waste my breath anyway. Stay in your room tonight. Do not come down to the main hall.”

“And why would I hide in my room like a frightened child?” I asked.

He let out an impatient breath. “Because you have sustained injury to your head, for one. And more so, these men are my best fighters, but they lose all sense after they have consumed their fill of mead. If they catch sight of you, they will want you, and they will not care about our alliance. Do you understand?”

If the maidservant’s frightened demeanor was any indication, they had already exhibited such behavior. I thought of Gunnarr’s vulgar words, and even though he’d seemed contrite enough when Leif had explained our alliance, I had little doubt what Leif said was true about their appetites. But these were men I would not soon be rid of. I’d have to earn their respect and guarantee my own safety—without Leif keeping me barred behind solid doors.

“Your maidservant returns,” he said, watching the girl’s progress across the bailey. “You must swear you’ll stay in your room for the remainder of the evening.”

“I will swear to nothing.”

Leif took hold of my upper arms, his face determined. “You’re strong, Ciara, stronger than most warriors I’ve seen, but I can see the pain and exhaustion in your face. You should rest.”

I pulled away from his hold. “Don’t make the mistake of treating me as a subordinate. It won’t go well for you.”

“Don’t be so stubborn,” he said in almost a growl. “You will not heed my warning?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, unwilling to answer. Anger rose within me like a great wave, washing away the sympathy I’d felt. I might have been injured, but I didn’t require coddling.

Aideen returned to lead me to my room, and I was saved from making assurances I would not keep. Nothing would keep me confined to my room against my will, not even an arrogant Northman.





11





Aideen turned out to be more than an apprentice healer. After a brief examination of my head, she declared it only a mild injury, and then prepared me a bath scented with sweet herbs. With gentle fingers, she applied a salve to my head and the scratches on my side. When she finished, my light-headedness disappeared, my wound stopped throbbing, and my tight muscles finally relaxed. I lay upon the soft bed with the intention of resting for only a moment. But as soon as my eyes closed, I was swept away.

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