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—j?tnar 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.”
“We’ll catch up,” Leif said. His gaze shifted to me and gentled. “Are you ready to ride? You are not light-headed or nauseous from the injury to your head?”
I scoffed. “If you think me so debilitated, then you’ve made a terrible mistake in choosing me as your partner in this upcoming battle. Even with the odds of six against one, we will be fortunate to escape with our lives.”
Amusement shone clearly on his face, and spread throughout the other men, but Leif said nothing as he mounted his horse. A wave of nausea and dizziness assaulted me as I pulled myself onto Sleipnir, reminding me that I hadn’t fully recovered. I kept a firm grip on Sleipnir’s mane, furious at my body for proving Leif right.
The horses charged forward, ready to resume their steady pace. I let Sleipnir have his head, and he and the stallion Leif rode matched each other stride for stride. The pain of my throat and throbbing of my head threatened to engulf me like a wave, a burning torture with every breath, but I wrestled it back down until all I could feel was the thunder of the horses’ hooves.
God knew I would need my strength.
We caught up to the horse-faced j?tunn in the dead of night, the moon high above us as though lighting the way. He’d made camp in the middle of a meadow. The cattle in the field kept their distance and stayed huddled together as if they sensed a wolf among them.
He’d lit a great fire, the smoke billowing upward brazenly. He reclined before it, his back against a tall oak tree. Like the snake-nosed j?tunn I’d managed to kill, this one could pass as a regular man from afar. And from his relaxed position, it was clear he didn’t fear discovery.
Leif drew his sword, and the others readied their axes and shields. They urged their horses forward, and I followed at a distance. The thunderous pounding of their hooves alerted the j?tunn, and he jumped to his feet, his face hideously twisted in the firelight.
He laughed and held out his arms. “You are too late now. We will tear you apart, piece by piece.”
At the word we, I pulled Sleipnir to a sliding halt, a warning cry to the others dying on my lips. Two other j?tnar appeared from the cover of smoke. I’d taken them for trees, but now to my horror, I realized my mistake. We faced three now instead of one, and with a terrible sinking feeling, I knew we’d meet our deaths here in the darkness.
Leif’s charge couldn’t be halted in time. The first j?tunn struck as fast as a bolt of lightning. He ducked out of the way of Leif’s sword and cut his horse’s legs out from under him with a battle-axe. His horse crashed to the ground, but Leif leaped off his back at the last moment. A clash of metal upon metal sounded in the night as Leif’s sword met the j?tunn’s axe.
Gunnarr and Ulf hurried forward to assist Leif. One of the giants cut Ulf from his horse, his axe sending a spray of blood from Ulf’s throat. Ulf fell from his horse with a painful thud.
As the chaos of battle washed over me, I realized that we’d never discussed strategy. These were seasoned men who’d fought many battles together, and I was used to my own clansmen who knew to cover me while I sought control of the enemy’s mind.
The pounding of heavy-booted feet interrupted me before I could decide on the best course of action.
A giant with hair as dark as the night sky thundered toward me, his lips peeled back in a feral grimace. He brought a great axe down, and I dug my heel into Sleipnir’s side to dodge the attack. I feared I wouldn’t have the strength to meet his blow head-on, so I galloped around behind the giant and swung my sword into his back. He whirled with an angry yell and parried my attacks. With each blow met, he pushed back against my sword until my arm was screaming with the effort. Though I was astride Sleipnir, I didn’t have the advantage of height. The black-haired giant loomed above us, so tall that the tips of Sleipnir’s ears only reached the monster’s knees.