Beyond a Darkened Shore

“Did you leave any alive?” Leif asked.

“Some yielded,” Arin said, and I could see from the brightness in his eyes that he had relished his first battle. “Though not many remain alive. Sigtrygg thought his army of fifty men would be enough to take us, but they were wrong.”

I was surprised by how few men Sigtrygg had left behind to defend his city. We’d defeated the small battalion Sigtrygg had brought with him, but surely his army consisted of more than eighty men. “Where are the rest of Sigtrygg’s men?”

“Raiding,” Arin said matter-of-factly.

“The ones remaining will be given a choice, then,” Leif said. “Join us in battle as was originally promised by King Sigtrygg, or be executed by their new queen.”

I thought of my clansmen who’d been burned alive by Sigtrygg’s men. The men who now stood behind me, fueled by the blood of the fallen. “What use do I have for traitorous men?” My hands tightened on the reins, and Sleipnir tossed his head. “What use are men who steal into my church on the Lord’s day and burn it and my clansmen to ashes?”

“More bodies to block the blows of the j?tnar,” Leif said. His tone was calm, but the fire inside me burned still brighter. “Not all of the men were guilty of attacking your clansmen, Ciara.”

“Those who had nothing to do with it may come to battle. Those who did . . . will die.”





19





We entered Dubhlinn with much more fanfare than I would have liked. Leif and I rode side by side, followed by my army of fallen warriors. Leif’s men rode ahead and called out to the people as we rode by, “People of Dyflin, King Sigtrygg is dead. Behold your new queen, Queen Ciara!”

A loud clamor of surprise went through the crowd, which drew even more people from their houses. They lined both sides of the road and stared at me as I rode past. With most of Sigtrygg’s men defeated or captured by Leif’s, there was no one to contest my claim, and the people of Dubhlinn didn’t seem to mourn the loss of Sigtrygg. The peasants who were originally from the north disliked him for being half Celt, and the Celts who lived in Dubhlinn disliked him for his raids on éirinn.

I overheard murmurs in the crowd. “Her horse’s eyes are red,” a man said, and his observation rippled through the crowd.

“Who are the men who follow her?” another asked, clutching her son to her side.

I glanced back at my army, but they didn’t break formation. Leif and the others rode along as though they were used to such scrutiny from a loud crowd, but I found the attention unsettling. It wasn’t until I noticed one of the small, dirty boys I had seen the first time we rode through the city that I was able to smile.

He waved vigorously as I drew nearer, his cheeks spattered with mud. “Queen Ciara!” he called, and I responded to his wave with one of my own.

This was what we stood to lose if we couldn’t defeat the j?tnar: this boy and all the others like him. My sisters—more innocents who would lose their lives to the giants if I didn’t stop them. I would think of them when I boarded a ship I’d always despised, when I journeyed far from éirinn. They gave a face to the nameless destruction that awaited this land and its people if we failed.

In the distance, smoke from the still-smoldering castle rose to the sky. In this, at least, I had my revenge. Sigtrygg’s men had burned my church, but Leif’s men had burned his castle. It was just an unfortunate thing that the castle happened to be mine now.

“It was a mistake to burn the castle,” Leif said, as though voicing my own thoughts. “Now we’ll have to bed down in the stables for the night.”

As Leif spoke, one of his men slowed his mount until he was keeping pace with us. “We slept in the ships last night. Not all of the castle was burned. We only set fire to his throne room.”

“And what of the servants and Sigtrygg’s family?” I asked, spurring Sleipnir through the crowd. “You left them unharmed?”

“His son was one of the men who attacked us, so we killed him, but the servants are still alive. His wife pleaded for mercy, and we allowed her to take her belongings and leave the city.”

“His wife is the daughter of the High King,” I said to Leif, turning over the implications in my mind.

“Will it be a problem?” Leif asked.

“Each kingdom in éirinn has autonomous rule, and we merely pay tribute to the High King. Sigtrygg and the king may have had an alliance, but a battle was fought fairly, and I was the victor,” I said. “By rights, his land is mine.” Even if the High King’s potential revenge was an issue, it was one for a later time. We had bigger problems to deal with now—like the j?tnar potentially taking over the world.

By then our party had reached the castle courtyard, but unlike the last time Leif and I had been there, now there were no guardsmen at the gates. No servants rushed out to attend to us. The smoke, coming from the middle of the castle, wafted lazily toward the sky. The air was ripe with the smell of burned wood, and a much more pungent smell, one I was all too familiar with: charred flesh. My army spread out behind us once we came to a halt, and my gaze fell upon my father. As though he felt my stare, he turned his head, and our eyes met. An awareness burned in his once again, and I thought of his need for revenge.

“Where are the men who yielded during your battle?” I asked Arin.

“We threw them in the dungeon,” Arin said, pride over his accomplishments evident in the swell of his chest.

“I want all of them brought before me,” I said with a glance at my father. I couldn’t rest until I had dealt with them.

Leif nodded toward his men. “Erik, Oleif, bring one man before the queen at a time. It’s time they answered for their crimes.”

“I’ll go,” Arin said, but Leif held up his hand.

“You will stay,” Leif said, and Arin glared at his elder brother.

Erik and Oleif dismounted and strode toward the castle. It wasn’t long before they returned, each dragging a man in chains behind them.

Erik approached first with his captive, yanking him forward viciously, until the man stumbled and fell before Sleipnir. My horse’s ears immediately shot back. When he bared his sharp teeth threateningly, I placed a single hand on his neck.

Pale-faced and filthy, the man scurried backward out of the reach of Sleipnir, only to be forcefully stopped by Erik’s foot.

“Enough,” I said to both Erik and Sleipnir, who each seemed to wish harm upon the prisoner. I turned to the captive in the dirt. “Erik has brought you before me to give you a choice: swear fealty to me and join my army, or be executed for your attack against my allies.”

Shakily, the man stood and bowed his head. “I will gladly serve you, my queen.”

“I accept your fealty,” I said, “but as your queen, I must know, what part did you play in Sigtrygg’s attack on Mide?”

At the dark look in my eyes, the man began to shake anew. “I was only supposed to help the others take down Leif’s men here in the city,” he said, his eyes casting about as though unsure what the correct answer was. “We tried to ambush them, but they still defeated us.”

“And you never left Dubhlinn?”

“No, my queen,” he said, glancing back and forth fearfully between Leif and me.

“Remove his chains,” I said to Erik. “He will sail north with us.”

The man dropped forward with relief, and I waved the next captive forward. Unlike the first, this man did not shake or show fear of any kind. He was as tall as Leif and even bigger around. He met my gaze with defiance. I despised him on sight.

“Tell me of your involvement in Sigtrygg’s attack on Mide,” I said, my tone sharp.

“I killed people,” he said with a grin that was more the bearing of teeth.

Oleif strode forward and shoved the man in the back of the head so hard I could practically hear his neck snap. “Answer your queen properly.”

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