Beri stopped his test on the latest post and came to stand beside Galinn. Galinn took a few steps to the side so he could look at Beri without straining his neck. Beri nodded. “I think that was similar to Odinkar’s plan for that building, but I can’t be sure. However, I can see that being a useful layout. If an enemy breached the walls, we’d need a position to fall back to. The stone stronghold would provide that, while giving us a fighting chance even after the invaders got through the primary defenses.” He clapped Galinn on the back. “If that wasn’t what Odinkar had in mind for that structure, yours is a better idea.”
Galinn smiled at Beri’s appreciation. “I’m glad I could offer some ideas.” He took one last look around. “I think that gives you a good starting point on getting the defenses built. Ready to head back?”
As Galinn and Beri rode into the outpost, Galinn’s stomach knotted at the sight that greeted them. Someone ransacked all of the lean-tos and temporary shelters the people had erected. Galinn couldn’t tell what belonged where because everything was scattered around the center of the outpost. The placed looked as if someone had gathered all of their belongings and building materials to the center and then threw them around. Who would do such a thing? Only a couple of possibilities stood out.
“Who did this?” Beri growled.
Galinn shook his head. “My question precisely. Do you see anyone? Is anyone hurt?” Galinn dismounted and started sorting through the mess, hoping he wouldn’t find any bodies. He silently thanked all the gods in the Norse Pantheon that Thora picked today to take the people to work the fields to get them ready for planting. He thanked them again when, a short time later, he found no one, living or dead.
“No one is here, but is that a good thing?” Beri’s head turned this way and that, searching for a sign of life. “What if they were captured?”
Galinn climbed back onto Brandr’s back and took a moment to assess the situation. Yes, the place was in ruins, but no one was there. No bodies, no signs of fighting, and nothing that would indicate someone’s capture. “I don’t think that happened. We know Thora was planning to leave for the fields as we left for the fort. If everyone went with her, no one was here. They all would have gone because they’d need as many people as they could get to get the fields cleared and ready. This looks like someone was angry he didn’t find what he expected and took it out on the belongings of the people he sought. I only know of one person so petty. Stay here.” Galinn nudged Brandr toward the road that crossed the road that led north to Kincora. Sure enough, he found the footprints of a small army. He allowed Brandr to have his head and followed in the direction the tracks led. Bile rose in his throat as his stomach churned over the heavy weight of what he could have brought to Thora’s people if any of them had been in the outpost. He never should have agreed to stay with Thora, for any length of time. His presence put every last one of them in danger. He slowed Brandr when they came to a bend. Galinn strained his ears to listen to the sounds of the retreating army walking up ahead. He dismounted and led Brandr to the edge of the woods and dropped his reins. Galinn moved through the forest quickly, mindful of the need to remain undiscovered. His heart pounded in his chest as the memory of the last time he viewed an army while hiding in the forest came flooding back.
Rónán.
His vision blurred and his head swam with the images of his friend’s death. His heart slammed against his chest as if it were about to break through and fall on the ground before him. A constricting band tightened along his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs. He stopped and dragged in a few ragged breaths until the dizziness passed. When the suffocating sensation let up and he could breathe once again, he continued his path as it cut through the woods with the hope of seeing who was leading the army. Sure enough, the weathered old man sat atop his gray horse, head held high. David Travers. The name burned like acid through Galinn’s head and his hand instinctively went to his sword. He resisted the urge to jump out of the woods and run Travers through with his razor sharp weapon. The time would come for that later.
He returned to the devastated outpost and dismounted. “It was who I thought it was.”
“Travers.” Beri spit out his name.
Galinn nodded, trying to ignore the kick to the stomach he felt knowing Travers was there to find him. When he didn’t find him there, Travers took it out on the innocent, as the man typically did. Fortunately, in this case, no one was here, and the “innocent” were merely things rather than people. If someone had been here… Galinn tried to shake off the thought before his mind made the comparison to Rónán’s death, but it was too late. Thora and her people could’ve been killed had they been here when Travers arrived with his army. And it would’ve been his fault. Galinn could no longer afford to put off doing what he had to do.
CHAPTER 3
Galinn placed a warm hand on Thora’s cheek, but she smacked it away. “You’re leaving? How could you?” Hurt and anger mixed in her heart and burned like fire. She wanted to cry, but neither her anger nor her pride would allow it.
“I have to, Thora. Look around you!” Galinn’s voice reached a desperate pitch as he swung his hand wide toward the devastation. Thora tried to avoid looking at the crushed faces of her people who worked to sort through the mess, but they seemed to be everywhere she turned her eyes. She was still in shock over coming back from the fields, bone weary and eager for some rest, only to find Travers destroyed their outpost. Outrage and a small measure of defeat mixed in her blood. How could she keep everyone safe if she couldn’t leave their location unguarded even for a short time? There weren’t enough people in the village to split into groups. Everyone had to pitch in to prepare the fields, especially the warriors because their strength and stamina allowed them to till and work the soil better than anyone. How could she expect everyone to turn out to the fields if they now had to worry over damage to their shelters and belongings while they were gone?
He grabbed her shoulders and pierced her with his icy blue gaze. “Can’t you see this was because of me? That if I stay you could end up like Rónán? I can’t have more deaths on my conscience, Thora.” He looked away and raked a hand through his hair before holding her shoulders once again. This time, his grip was more of an embrace than a demand for her attention. “I can’t have yours.” His voice broke, his hands fell from her shoulders, and he looked away again, but not before Thora saw the gathering tears in his eyes. They did nothing to soften the blow of him leaving.
“You leave, and then what? Are you going to send a note to Travers, letting him know you’re no longer here?” She recognized the ridiculousness of her question, but she couldn’t help it. She was beyond rational thought and ran strictly on emotion. Not that she didn’t have a valid point buried under the wreckage of her rational state.
He sighed and pressed his hands to his face. “Thora…”
“No, Galinn.” She pushed his hands from his face. “Leaving isn’t going to make us any safer. All you’re doing is leaving us vulnerable. You’re a capable warrior, and that’s something we’re in short supply of at the moment.” She hissed, dropping her voice to avoid anyone overhearing them. Standing just outside the circle of demolished lean-tos and scattered belongings, the two of them didn’t have much in the way of privacy as people shifted through the mess to find their belongings.
“You won’t need warriors if there’s no threat,” he ground out the words through gritted teeth.
“There would be no threat if we killed Travers.” She folded her arms over her chest, silently daring him to challenge her on that point.
Galinn ran a hand through his hair and then bent to pick up a piece of wood that may have been part of a lean-to. He gave it a quick glance before tossing it away. “You knew I didn’t plan on staying because of what I’ve done to these people. You asked me for a few days, and I tried to give you that. I made some suggestions when Beri and I were at the fort. He knows what I think would be the best ways to keep you safe. You don’t need
me here—not with the risk I pose in both the unwanted attention from Travers and the sins of my past.”
They were getting nowhere, and the sun had set while they argued. Thora wasn’t going to convince him to stay no matter what she said. He had it in his head to leave, and that was it. She had no say in his decision. Her heart closed as she came to see that he didn’t feel the same way about her that she was beginning to feel for him. She was wrong for opening herself to him, and for thinking, however briefly, they might have a future together. She had people counting on her to lead them, and that’s who she needed to focus on now. “Fine, Galinn. Go. I won’t stop you.” Her heart broke as she turned her back on him and walked away. She couldn’t look at him, and certainly couldn’t say goodbye. He could vanish into the Irish countryside as abruptly as he appeared in her life, or he could take his time, but she couldn’t watch him go.
“Thora,” Galinn stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and gently tried to turn her to face him. She resisted and shrugged off his hand.
“No, Galinn. You don’t get to leave this way and have me make it easy for you. You’ve made your decision, and I’ve made mine. Just go.” She stared straight ahead, still refusing to turn around to face him. She didn’t want him to see her heart break.
“I’m sorry.”
The pain in his voice undid her. Tears welled in her eyes and she walked away without another word. As her vision blurred, she made her way over to Skathi and Bjorn, who sorted through the debris to find their things.
Skathi’s swift intake of breath and her warm embrace unleashed the sobs Thora tried to hold at bay. “What’s the matter, my dear?” Skathi rubbed her back as she held Thora.
“Galinn’s leaving.” Thora hoped that was enough information because she couldn’t manage any further of an explanation. Sobs tore through her body and she vibrated with emotion within the safe circle of Skathi’s arms.
Skathi hugged her tighter, but said nothing.
“Come on now, Thora. You can’t be falling apart like this. Not over a man.” Bjorn put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her until she let go of Skathi and faced him. His words sparked her anger and she balled her fists. He held up his hands. “You’re the jarl now. You have to stay strong and focus on the greater good. Sure, it’s okay to be upset, but you’ve got to pick yourself up and keep going.”
She flexed her fingers as reason crept in and her anger receded. She reminded herself that Bjorn wasn’t trying to be hurtful or dismissive. He’d always been supportive of her, even in the dark days after her family was killed. Reminding her of her responsibilities was his way of trying to help. He wasn’t one to let her wallow in her misery, and she was grateful to him for it. His “pick yourself up and keep moving” attitude got her through losing her parents and sister, and she could use that attitude now. She nodded and wiped her tear soaked cheeks.
“There you go. There will be plenty of time to heal your broken heart when we’ve gotten our people to safety. For now, we need to move to the fort.” He looked around at the tattered remains of their outpost. “We can’t stay here.”
Thora nodded as her thoughts turned away from Galinn and to the needs of her people. “Tell everyone to gather their things. We’ll leave as soon as everyone is ready.”
Skathi bent to sift through a debris pile and pulled out Thora’s purple woolen blanket and sheepskins. She shook them out and held them up for inspection. “These are dirty, but they’re okay.”
Thora’s short laugh sounded as if she were being strangled by the emotions that rose when she saw her blankets safe. “They’ve survived worse.”
Skathi gathered up the remainder of their things and wrapped them in a bundle inside one of her blankets. “It’s sad that all I have to show of my life with Bjorn over the last twenty years is this meager bundle.”
Thora’s heart twisted at the thought of Skathi and Bjorn’s son, Eilaf, as well as all the others lost during Irish attacks. “I can’t bring Eilaf back, but I can lead us to a place where we’ll no longer have to fear surprise attacks that take away our loved ones and burn our belongings.”
Skathi nodded as she slid an arm behind Bjorn’s back and leaned in when he put his arm around her shoulder. “Our son may be gone, but we still have each other, and we have you. That’s what’s most important. Things don’t matter, because they can be replaced.”
Thora stepped forward and wrapped both of them in a hug. “I will do my best for you. Always.”
Bjorn patted her back and cleared his throat. “Enough with the emotional talk. We have things to do.”
Thora and Skathi laughed as Bjorn walked away to get everyone ready to leave.
“I am sorry to hear about Galinn leaving, but maybe he will come back.”
“I’m not going to wait on him to make up his mind.” Thora sighed. “I have other things that need my attention.” She’d keep telling herself that as long as she needed to in order to get through the pain of his loss.
CHAPTER 4
Galinn mounted Brandr with a heavy heart. Though his leaving was the best thing he could do for Thora and her people, he wished things could be different. His foolish ideas of staying—however brief—could never be reality. Even if Travers weren’t a threat, Galinn’s past misdeeds always would be. Leading the army that killed family and friends was too large of a transgression to expect forgiveness. He wouldn’t be able to forgive, much less live around any person who did that to him. He wasn’t hypocritical enough to think Thora’s people should forgive and accept him when he wouldn’t do the same.
Brandr’s soft nicker brought Galinn out of his thoughts and he turned to see what the chestnut horse saw. Across the outpost, Thora gathered everyone around in preparation to leave for the fort.
He patted his horse’s neck. “Say your goodbyes, boy. It’s the last time…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. Instead, he cleared his throat in an attempt to dislodge the lump that formed as he watched Thora and nudged Brandr forward. Her pained expression threatened to chisel away at his resolve to leave. “Dublin’s a long ride. Best to get moving.”
Brandr usually walked at a decent pace, but tonight he walked much slower, as if he somehow sensed the significance of this journey. Maybe the idea was fanciful, or maybe Galinn was projecting his own hesitancy onto his horse’s movements. Galinn didn’t give it further thought as they rode up the road and through the forest. He turned his mind toward planning his trip to Dublin. He was in no hurry, so he decided to go wherever the trip took him. If he stayed longer in one of the towns he stopped to rest in, so be it.
A few hours later, Galinn stopped Brandr and dismounted. He stepped off the road, leading Brandr, and strained to find a path by the light of the half-moon as it filtered through the canopy of trees. When a clearing came into view, Galinn stepped out of the darkened forest and into the silvery moonlight, startling some deer who bolted into the forest. Brandr’s head shot up and he froze at the crashing sounds they made as they departed. Galinn rubbed his neck to calm him, but that did little good. Brandr remained frozen in place with every muscle tense, his head high, and he snorted.
Galinn learned long ago to trust his horse’s instinct about a place. Brandr wasn’t one to spook over nothing, even the startled deer. If he was uneasy after the deer left, something else had him on edge. “Maybe this isn’t the best place to stay tonight. I think there’s a small town just up the road. You want to head there?”
Galinn led Brandr back to the road and rode to the next town. He flipped a coin to the stable hand that greeted them out front of the stable. “See to it he’s fed and watered, and rub him down before you put him in a stall.”
The dark haired groom touched his hat before leading Brandr inside. Galinn watched the stable for a few moments after they disappeared inside and then turned his attention to the tavern next door. Some mead and a bed were just the things he needed, even if the dilapidated two-story building looked as if it would fall down at any moment.<
br />
Galinn pushed open the heavy wooden door that groaned on its hinges. The smell of alcohol and unwashed bodies assaulted his nose as soon as he stepped inside. The sounds of drunken conversation and laughter poured over Galinn as he checked out the dimly lit interior. The tavern wasn’t large, but it packed in eight long tables, each lined on either side with benches filled with men who’d obviously been there much longer than they should have been. Smaller round tables with chairs stood along the edges of the room, but most were empty. He lifted his chin when the burly man behind the bar lifted an eyebrow at him.
“I’d like mead and a room.” Galinn slapped some coins on the polished wooden bar. The bar was probably the only thing to receive attention in the place, Galinn noted as he opted to stand to wait for his drink instead of taking a seat on the broken stool beside him.
The man’s greasy red face opened with a smile as he reached for a tankard and poured the mead. He slid the tankard to Galinn and then took the coins. “Your room is up the stairs, first room on the left.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder to where Galinn barely made out a flight of stairs through the murky darkness.
“No women?” Galinn wasn’t interested in spending time with a woman, but the tavern’s lack of females stood out as odd.
The man wiped the bar with a filthy rag. “Not tonight.”
When the man didn’t offer an explanation, Galinn took his tankard of mead and sat in a wooden chair in a darkened corner of the tavern. The tavern wasn’t well lit to begin with, but Galinn craved the isolation the darkened corner offered without being alone. He wasn’t in the mood for company, but he wasn’t quite ready to go up to his room. Being alone with his thoughts was an exercise in torture as his thoughts threatened to turn to Thora. At least here he could eavesdrop on neighboring conversations and lose himself in his drink until he was tired enough to drag himself upstairs and fall into bed.
Rule of the Shieldmaiden Page 2
