“Aye,” Doona answered.
This wasn’t like Magnus, Ailinn mused. He was usually very deliberate and cautious. Of course, his decision to help her when he saw her on the dock in Dublin had certainly been an impulsive act. Perhaps when it came to her, he simply couldn’t restrain himself.
The thought brought a smile to her lips, and despite her doubts, she followed Doona through the wooden gate after the young woman opened it.
It was a beautiful moonlit night, and as they walked down the silver glazed pathway toward the forest, Ailinn suddenly understood Magnus’s decision. The air was balmy and sweet with the scent of honeysuckle and meadowsweet, and a feeling of enchantment seemed to linger in the air. It did seem like a mistake to waste this opportunity. Still, she was surprised he’d chosen a trysting place so far from the dun. All at once, her wariness returned. She was acutely aware of how vulnerable she was.
Halting, she said, “Are you certain Magnus asked you to do this?”
Doona didn’t respond, and the next moment shadows loomed out of the darkened woods.
“Ah, Lady Ailinn, I never expected to see you again.” At the sound of MacTighe’s gloating voice, Ailinn was suffused with fear and dismay. The next moment, she was furious, mostly at herself. How could she have been so foolish? This was her worst nightmare, to fall into the hands of her enemy.
“I thought Croa Ottarson would be able to take care of things,” said MacTighe. “But it seems he underestimated you.”
“Aye, he did,” Ailinn responded tautly. “His rotting corpse has gone to feed the sea creatures.”
MacTigue moved closer, and Ailinn glanced around, trying to calculate how many men he had with him. Doona had already disappeared. She was probably on her way back to the dun to report to her father.
For a moment, Ailinn thought about screaming for help, but she quickly abandoned the idea. Even if Magnus were to wake and hear her, if he attempted to rescue her he would almost certainly be killed. All she could hope was that Cellach wasn’t too deeply involved with this plan. She worried he would take Magnus and his men prisoner, or even kill them. The thought terrified her.
“I could have had my men cut your throat the night I killed your father and burned Dun Carrig,” said MacTighe. “But I didn’t. I thought people would think poorly of me for killing a woman.”
“So, you’re going to kill me now?” Ailinn asked challengingly. “Ah, the mighty MacTighe, so powerful and brave he was able to overcome a woman.”
Even as she traded barbs with him, Ailinn searched frantically for a way out of her predicament. Including MacTighe, a half dozen men surrounded her. It appeared hopeless. She couldn’t flee, nor could she fight all of them, even if she had a weapon.
Which she did, she realized abruptly. She’d worn the small dagger strapped to her ankle for so long that she’d almost come to think of it as part of her body. But how to reach it? And how to wield it once she did? Even a man with a sword would be hard put to do battle with this many men. She would have to wait for the right opportunity.
MacTighe grabbed her arm, none to gently, and jerked her toward the forest.
“What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”
“Cellach asked me not to kill you too near his dun,” MacTighe answered. “I guess it makes him feel better to pretend he had no part in this.”
“And what about my escort?” she couldn’t help asking. “What are you going to do to them?”
“You mean your Norse lover and his companions? He won’t be that difficult to deal with.”
“What do you mean?” Ailinn asked. Pure anguish seemed to pump through her veins. As bad as it was to contemplate her own death, the thought of Magnus being killed was truly wrenching.
“Once you’re dead, he’ll be an enemy, an invader. I’ll handsomely reward the warriors who bring him down...and every man with him.”
Ailinn felt sick inside. But she couldn’t give up. She must bide her time and wait for the right opportunity. It had taken nearly a fortnight for her to find a way to best Croa.
But that was different. Croa had a good reason to keep her alive. This man didn’t. She wondered how far MacTighe meant to take her before killing her.
They reached a clearing where a half dozen mounted warriors waited Ailinn realized how carefully her capture had been planned. MacTighe was leaving nothing to chance this time. He probably intended to kill her himself. What means did he intend to use? Another jolt of terror flashed through her. Would he cut her throat as he’d mentioned?
Stay calm. Take deep breaths. Pretend you’re a warrior going into battle. Use the fear to make yourself stronger.
They’d reached the horses. MacTighe released her to grab the bridle of one of them. Ailinn saw her chance and knelt down, pretending she was fixing something on her shoe. Her fingers trembled as she slid the dagger from its sheath. She straightened, clutching the dagger hilt tightly. MacTighe was turned away from her. She thought of stabbing him in the back, as she had Bodolf. But the bulky look of his garments suggested he might be wearing a leather jerkin or other type of protection. She only had one chance, and she dare not waste it.
MacTighe turned and reached out to lift her onto the horse. Ailinn drove the dagger straight into his throat. As soon as he released her to clutch at the weapon in his gullet, she whirled and tried to run. “Get her!” Someone shouted. She only got a few paces before a man grabbed her. She writhed and twisted in his grasp, and a second man came to aid him. They each held one of her arms, trapping her.
MacTighe was bent over, clutching the dagger protruding from his throat, making choking sounds. One of his men held MacTighe by the shoulders while another pulled the dagger out. As soon as the weapon was removed, there was a gush of blood. The sounds MacTighe was making grew more horrible. He bent over again, clutching his bleeding throat. After staggering a few steps, he crumpled.
Everyone stared at him, as if waiting for him to rise again, but he did not. Elation swept through Ailinn. No matter what these other men did to her, she’d avenged her family. She gave a triumphant laugh. “How does it feel, MacTighe?” she crowed, “To be cut down by a woman?”
One of the men stepped in front of her. Ailinn recognized him as MacTighe’s oldest son, Cairbre. “You won’t gloat long, you murderous bitch,” Cairbre spat. “Now it’s your turn to die.” The blade of his knife glittered in the moonlight. Ailinn began to struggle, trying desperately to free herself from the men who held her.
“Drop the knife!” a familiar voice shouted. Cairbre turned. Magnus advanced into the clearing, followed by Ottar and Yngvar. All three had their swords drawn. Ailinn felt as if she would faint with relief.
“I said, drop the knife,” Magnus repeated.
“Stop, or I’ll kill her!” Cairbre cried.
“Nay, you won’t.” Magnus’s voice was calm. “You don’t want to die. Therefore, you’ll do as I say.”
Ailinn expected Cairbre to lunge and stab her at any moment. Instead, he whirled and made a dash for the horses. Vaulting onto one of them, he raced off. Aileen seized the moment to wrest herself free from the startled men holding her. She ran to Magnus. He grabbed her with his free hand and pulled her against him. “Thank Odin,” he murmured, rubbing his face in her hair.
The next moment, he thrust her behind him and brandished his sword. “What of the rest of you? Will you run away like a bunch of scared coneys? Or, will you fight?” When there was no response, Magnus added, “There is a third choice. You can yield...and accept Lady Ailinn as your queen.”
Several heartbeats passed, then one of the men approached Magnus. “I wish to yield.”
“To her,” Magnus gestured to Ailinn. “Swear your loyalty to her.”
The man came and bent his head before her. “I yield to Lady Ailinn and vow to serve her.”
Ailinn felt a triumphant smile spread across her face. “I accept your vow.” She raised her chin and faced the other men. “I killed Finn MacTighe, and I claim a
ll his lands now in the name of the clan of Donovan, who has ruled this territory for a dozen generations!”
One after another, the men stood before her and swore to serve her.
“Now, we’ll go back to Mahon Cellach’s farmstead,” said Magnus.
Magnus had MacTighe’s men walk in front with Oleif and Yngvar on either side. He and Ailinn brought up the rear. “We’ll have Ceallach send men to deal with MacTighe’s body, as well as fetch the horses,” Magnus said.
“But how can we trust him?” asked Ailinn. “It’s clear he plotted with MacTighe to kill me.”
Magnus’s voice was hard. “I think Ceallach will be eager to do whatever we wish. I left Bjornolf behind with instructions that if we didn’t return, he was to cut Ceallach’s throat.”
“But how did you know to come after me?” Ailinn asked. “How did you guess I was in danger?” Her knees were still trembling. She couldn’t forget how close to dying she’d come this night.
“It was Yngvar.” Magnus motioned with his head. “He’d made arrangements to meet with one of the serving girls after everyone else was abed. As he was going to meet the young woman, he saw you leaving with Ceallach’s daughter. He guessed something was wrong and woke me. I roused the other men. We grabbed our swords and set out after you, except for Bjornolf, who I left with Ceallach.” He let out a sigh. “I was so afraid we’d be too late.” Then she caught the glint of his teeth as he smiled. “But I should have known you wouldn’t let any man get the advantage of you.”
Ailinn shook her head. “I might have killed MacTighe, but if you hadn’t come to save me, his son would have killed me.”
“Now we are even.” Magnus said. “You saved my life in York and now I’ve rescued you.”
“I hope this is the end of it,” Ailinn said. “I wish Cairbre MacTighe hadn’t escaped. I fear he will continue to make trouble.”
“We can deal with him. He could have challenged me, but instead, he turned and ran. He’s a coward. Few men will be willing to risk their lives to follow one such as him. Nay, I think we’ve accomplished everything we set out to do. Now that MacTighe is dead, no one else will oppose you.”
Ailinn nodded. “Men would rather follow someone like you, who is brave and bold and willing to fight for what he cares about.”
Magnus halted and turned toward her. “Aye. I would fight to the death to possess you, my bold Irish queen.”
“And I, you, my brave Norse warrior.”
Their kiss was brief, but as sweet as any they’d shared. Then they released each other and followed after the other men.
Chapter 22
“Ah, this is better than Valhalla,” Magnus murmured. He lay with his head in Ailinn’s lap. She was wearing only her shift, which she’d put on after they’d finished coupling.
Ailinn gazed around at the meadow, tinged golden as the season turned to autumn, and let out an extravagant sigh. “I know naught about Valhalla, but it’s hard to imagine how anything could be more wonderful than this. ‘Tis an enchanted day, and I’m perfectly content.”
“You? Content?” Magnus sat up and gazed at her in mock surprise. “I didn’t know princesses were ever content.”
She slapped him playfully. “I told you I wouldn’t be happy until I had avenged my family’s deaths and regained our lands, and I’ve done those things. All the rest of it is simply a gift, a joyous gift.”
“Aye, it is,” Magnus agreed as he lay down again. “I can hardly believe everything that's happened. My life has changed greatly for the better, and it's all because of you.”
“And I owe everything to you, as well.” Ailinn ran her fingers through his long hair. “If you hadn’t offered to help me back in Dublin, I might never have gained the courage to do what was necessary to prevail against Croa, let alone any of the rest.”
“Oh, you would have found a way, I don’t doubt it. You’re the most courageous person I know, and that includes every warrior I’ve met.”
“You make me sound like a hero in a bard’s tale,” Ailinn said, blushing. Her hand in his hair stilled. “Does it ever bother you that I’ve killed two men?”
Magnus guffawed. “Only two? What about Croa? He might have survived for a time if you hadn’t pushed him overboard.”
“Nay, seriously. Brina once called me bloodthirsty. Is that the way you see me?”
“Well, you are very fierce sometimes. But only when you’re protecting yourself or those you care about. I can find no fault with that. Everything you’ve done, I would have done myself, if I were in those circumstances.” He sat up and looked her in the eyes. “I was a little unsettled by your bold nature in the beginning. But then I realized if you were a man, I would admire that quality. I decided there was no reason it wasn’t equally admirable in a woman.”
“And you don’t think of me as unfeminine?”
“You? Unfeminine?” Magnus chortled. “I think you’re the most dainty and lovely of women. Besides...” He reached to caress her face. “All I have to do is touch you, and you turn from a wild Valkerie into a little puff of swansdown. You always yield when I’m inside of you.”
His voice held the husky warmth that never failed to make her catch her breath. She gazed into his blue, blue eyes and wondered if they had time for another bout of loveplay before they had to go back.
He kissed her deeply, and she’d decided they did have time. The next moment, they heard someone calling out for Magnus.
“Sounds like Asgar,” she said.
“Aye, it does.” Magnus grimaced.
Ailinn rose and pulled her kirtle over her head, while Magnus donned his tunic and trews. By the time, Asgar appeared they were both decently attired.
He grinned at them. “Did I give you enough warning? I figured you’d been here for a while, so you’d had enough time to—”
“What is it?” Magnus broke in. “What do you want?”
“Good news,” Asgar answered, still grinning.
“Cairbre MacTighe’s been caught?” Ailinn asked. She still worried over that her enemy’s son would make trouble.
“Nay,” Asgar answered. “Better news than that. Orm and Brina are at Rath Culcumhan.”
Ailinn gasped and jumped up. “Brina is here?” She gave a shout of joy and clapped her hands.
Watching her, Magnus smiled. It was wonderful to see her act so happy and carefree. At this moment, she looked like a young girl, rather than an elegant queen. Then he thought of Orm and knew his own burst of pleasure.
They all talked excitedly as they walked back to the settlement that had once belonged to MacTighe. Aillin said they would live there only until Dun Carrig could be rebuilt. She wanted to return to the place she grew up and rule her lands from there.
“I can’t wait to see Brina!” Ailinn exclaimed. “I wonder if she’s changed.”
“Oh, she’s changed,” Asgar said, nodding his head. “You can be sure of that.”
“What do you mean?” Ailinn asked.
Asgar shrugged. “Her belly’s out to here now. They say the babe’s not due until late winter, but she looks big to me already.”
“A babe!” Ailinn exclaimed. “How wonderful!”
“You’re forgetting that the poor thing’s going to be cursed,” Magnus interjected.
“Cursed? Why’s that?” Ailinn asked.
“The red hair,” Magnus said. “The poor child’s going to end up with tresses as bright as raspberries.”
“You don’t like red hair?” Ailinn demanded, hands on hips.
“A touch of red is nice,” Magnus answered. “Truly.”
“Orm and Brina have more than a touch,” Asgar chortled. “And you’re right, the poor child is cursed.”
They all laughed.
They walked along, everyone in good humor. Then, abruptly, Ailinn halted. “If Orm and Brina are back, that means we have to fetch Niamb’s treasure and return it to her.”
Magnus shrugged. “After what we’ve accomplished already, I feel no challeng
e is too great.”
“But we’ll have to travel north,” Ailinn said. “I wonder if the fair weather will hold for a while longer, or if we’ll have to wait until next summer.”
“Next summer?” Magnus looked at her. “Why would we have to wait that long?”
Ailinn smiled smugly. “Because our babe is due in the spring, and I doubt that I’ll feel like traveling for a few weeks after it’s born.’
“Our babe?” Magnus suddenly felt like the ground beneath his feet had shifted. Was he ready to have a child?
She came to him and touched his arm, then gazed up into his face. “Aye, our babe. Do you hope it will be a boy or a girl?”
“I think I’d fancy daughter,” he said. “A little Irish princess.”
“She’ll be half Norse,” Ailinn reminded him.
“Nay. She’ll be born here, in this land, and her heart will belong to this place, as mine already does.”
“I thought your heart belonged to me,” Ailinn whispered.
“Aye. It does. It does.”
The End
Mary Gillgannon
I am fascinated by history, as well as Celtic myth and legend. These interests inspire and enrich most of my books, both historical romance and historical fantasy. Raised in the Midwest, I currently live in Wyoming with my husband, four cats and a dog. Besides writing and working (I'm employed in a public library) I enjoy gardening, travel and reading, of course!
For more about my books and me, visit my website www.marygillgannon.com.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Beyond the Sea Mist Page 27
