One born for it, the Morrigan had said when she’d first appeared to me.
“Why? Why would you create me? You knew the monster you’d send to the world.”
She smiled, but the gesture was one of cunning rather than benevolence. “I needed a warrior with the power of the ancients. I cared nothing for the price.”
My head ached with the dissonance of the faith I had always believed in, and the truth that I could no longer deny.
“The new god’s influence is spreading, but the old gods live on,” she said. “I would do anything to protect this land. Seduce a pitiful king, bear a child and allow her to be raised by foolish mortals who know nothing of the old ways, even join forces with gods from the north.”
I thought of the way the Morrigan had appeared alongside the ravens in the Faerie Tunnel—the ravens who had turned out to be the Valkyrie. My eyes widened. “Do you mean the Valkyrie? You joined—”
“The Valkyrie are but messengers for the more powerful gods of the north. They chose their own warrior to right the mistakes made by their gods, and it was I who led him to your doorstep.”
She looked completely unrepentant that in leading Leif to me, many of my clansmen had died in the ensuing battle with Leif’s men. It made me feel sick, like I was partly to blame, even if I hadn’t been consciously aware of my part in bringing them to our shores.
But it also brought me Leif. The thought whispered through my mind, and I couldn’t deny how thankful I was for it.
“So you came to me in a dream to gloat about how you manipulated my father and bent others to your will?”
“I came to warn you,” she said, bringing forth a vision of Leif battling j?tnar with all his strength. “Unlike your power, which you were born with, the Northman’s was bestowed upon him as a gift from the gods, but it doesn’t make him invincible. You will soon sail north, and once you arrive on the Northmen’s shores, you will lose all access to the realm of the Tuatha Dé Danann. There are other ancient beings who guard those shores, and I cannot cross them. You may find yourself without allies in the end. You have to be strong enough.
“Your only hope will be to master your abilities before you arrive. Become the warrior queen you were meant to be.” The mist transformed into rippling ink-black feathers. “Do not fail.” With a caw, she completed her transformation into a crow and took flight.
The march to Dubhlinn wasn’t long, but it was long enough to torture me with thoughts of the Morrigan’s words. It seemed especially ominous that she’d said Leif wasn’t invincible. I kept sending him worried glances, but he was lost in his own thoughts, no doubt anxious to return to Arin and his men. The apprehension seemed to spread through Leif and me, until we became almost desperate to arrive. I was queen now, yet there was no time to formally take the city, nor to decide what would be done with Sigtrygg’s wife and family. His wife was a Celt, I knew, so she might have fled to her father, the High King. I thought of my own mother, refusing to leave, refusing to even bury the remains of her husband. I doubted Sigtrygg’s wife would be as devoted—not many in arranged marriages were. Still, with the High King behind her, Sigtrygg’s wife could pose a problem I wasn’t prepared to handle.
I didn’t anticipate anyone in the city protesting my claim to the throne, not with my nightmarish army at my back, the king’s crown in my hand, and my own intimidating reputation, but I knew if I had any hope at all of retaining the kingdom of Dubhlinn for myself, then I’d have to leave behind someone to hold the city.
I stole a glance at Leif, noting again the lines of tension there. He feared for Arinbjorn, I knew. We’d been delayed for so long now, anything could have happened while we were away. His men had been told to prepare the ships, but that was weeks ago. Did they even believe us to be alive?
If they had waited for us, and if the ships had been made ready, then we would set sail tomorrow. I shuddered as I thought of the dragon-headed prows, the square sails. How I had always loathed that sight. Now, all too soon, I would be on board them as we sailed north, at the mercy of the sea and sky.
I felt completely unprepared, and though Leif had eased my concerns over sailing in general, I still questioned how comfortable the journey would be.
“What do you do if it rains?” I’d asked Leif the night before, when my anxiety over sailing had reached the point that I could silently think on it no longer.
He had grinned and said, “We get wet.”
I’d imagined just how miserable this journey could be and decided not to ask any further questions.
But I couldn’t keep all my concerns at bay as we marched toward the city. I glanced at my undead warriors. They followed in our wake, showing no sign of fatigue though they hadn’t slept. It wasn’t until we reached the bridge into Dubhlinn that I realized we’d be leading them into the city. The boys with no shoes I’d seen the first time we rode through came to mind. Was I bringing monsters I knew very little about to the doors of innocent people?
“I think the army should wait here—at the gates,” I said to Leif.
“Why? We must travel to the city to get to the ships, and it’d be foolish to leave them here only to return for them later. I’d rather you have the extra protection; we can’t know what awaits us in the city. Sigtrygg’s men might challenge you for the throne.”
I glanced back at my morbid army, their faces gray and their march tireless. Leif did have a point. We might need them. “I’d rather not turn them against my own subjects, but I suppose I will if I have to if the people of Dubhlinn challenge us.”
Leif nodded his approval.
“And what of Sleipnir?” I asked. “Can I trust him in a stable with other horses?”
“You fear he’ll devour the other poor beasts in the stable? He’s been beside Abrax this entire time and hasn’t so much as licked him.”
“He knows Abrax, though. The others . . .” I trailed off when Sleipnir’s ears suddenly pricked forward. Sensing the other horse’s alertness, Abrax did the same.
A band of men on horseback was riding toward us. Leif and I warily drew our swords and waited on the bridge.
As soon as they were close enough to identify, Leif sheathed his sword. I smiled when I saw who was in the lead. “Arin,” Leif said with relief clear in the smile on his face, “it’s good of you to come to meet us. Saves me the trouble of tearing the city apart to find you.”
“Find me?” his brother said, shaking his head. “You’re the ones who’ve been missing for ages.” He smiled as he met my gaze, but then as he noticed the undead at our back, the expression rapidly turned to apprehension. “Who are those men?”
“My army,” I said, unable and unwilling to explain further.
“The army we used to destroy King Sigtrygg after he killed Ciara’s father and burned two hundred of her clansmen,” Leif said grimly.
“That’s terrible, Ciara,” Arin said, his whole face drawn in sympathy.
“The whole damn city turned on us while you were gone,” one of the men riding with Arin said. “Sigtrygg’s men tried to round us up and hold us prisoner, so we were forced to kill them all and burn the castle.”
“Sigtrygg never did know how to pick the winning side,” Leif said. He turned to me with an ironic smile. “It would seem your castle has been burned, my queen.”
Arin and the Northman shared a look of confusion. “Queen?” Arin asked.
“I’ll explain everything later,” Leif said. “What I need to know now is: Have the ships been made ready?”
Arin’s face lit up. “They have, brother. Not only our ship, but four others.”
Leif nodded with approval. “Enough for two hundred men.” He glanced at the army at my back. “Living men, anyway.”
“Men and horses,” the other Northman said. “The ships are filled with weapons and food stores—enough to replace those we lost. We raided the city after we beat Sigtrygg’s men back.”