“Alliances.” He raised his head and gave her a wink.
That single word, and the implications behind it, left Thora thunderstruck. She told Galinn she would need allies, but that was as far as the idea went. Why had she never acted on joining up with other jarls in the area? Her village wasn’t the only one to suffer at the hands of Donnchadh mac Briain and his crooked bishop, David Travers. Bjorn made the idea of fulfilling her goal to wipe mac Briain and Travers from the face of the planet sound as if it were only a few carefully chosen alliances away. And really, wasn’t it? “I’ve never done much traveling between towns and villages. Do you know of any who would be good potential allies?”
Bjorn nodded as he handed his now empty bowl to Skathi and kissed her hand as she reached for it. “I have three I know would be worth talking to. I’ll have to see about a couple of others.”
“What would I have to do?” Thora’s imagination ran wild. What would the other jarls want to join with her? Money? She didn’t have any herself and the people of the village were busy building and farming. They needed all of their money to see to their survival. Sex? Thora doubted she could bring herself to do such a thing, but she filed it away as a possibility. Marriage? She really hoped it wouldn’t come to that. What else could she offer? Not much more than the promise of ridding Ireland of the anti-Norse influence once Donnchadh and the bishop were gone.
“Talk. You’ll have to explain your position and convince the other jarls that it’s in their best interest to support you in this campaign.”
Thora nodded as she swallowed a mouthful of porridge. That sounded easy enough. “When can we go meet with the three jarls you mentioned?”
“I’ll send riders to let them know you’ll be visiting. It will take over a week’s worth of traveling to visit all three, if we travel at least twelve hours each day and stay in each town only long enough to meet with the jarls and get some sleep. It will be grueling to stick to that schedule, but I know you won’t want to be away from here much longer than necessary.” Bjorn stood and kissed Skathi before heading towards the door.
“Alright, do that. We’ll plan for our absence from here for that time, and leave in two days. You’re right. I can’t afford to be gone too much longer than a week, so we’ll have to do our best to keep moving.” Thora stood and left the table to follow Bjorn. “I want Rúna to come with us. Might make the grueling journey more entertaining.”
Bjorn stopped inside the doorway and nodded. “I have no problem with her coming with us. Not that you were asking permission.” He winked with a big smile.
Thora landed a playful slap on his arm. “She and I get along quite well. Her fighting style matches mine, and she works hard to hone her skills. With everything being so hectic around here all the time, I was thinking the trip might give her and I a chance to get to know each other better. She seems like a good person.” Thora didn’t want to mention how great Rúna had been at helping her through the grief of Galinn leaving. Rúna was there with her quick, sarcastic wit to help shake her out of the doldrums. Best to avoid the subject of Galinn with Bjorn if she wanted to avoid the stern reminder that she was better off without him. It wasn’t that she thought Bjorn was wrong, she didn’t want the reminder because he was right, and bringing Galinn up only served to give the appearance that she wasn’t over him.
Bjorn held up his hands. “You don’t have to explain it to me. I think it’s good for you to have friends your age, and she’s a good one. I always felt bad that she was left to her own devices after she returned from Limerick. I tried to get Odinkar to do something for her, but he seemed content to let her be as she was. At least now she appears to be flourishing and making herself a part of the community.”
“She is doing that.” After their meeting on the practice field the previous morning, Thora casually asked around about her as she went about her duties the day before. When Rúna wasn’t in training or practicing either alone or with Katla and Ásta, she worked the fields, happy to share the things she learned after years of growing food for herself. She also eagerly absorbed anything the older and more experienced people of the village were willing to share with her. Those who use to eye her with suspicion because of the rumors she killed her grandfather now invited her to their homes for supper with open arms. Thora was happy to know Rúna was serious about making her own family.
When they were outside and she spied new faces across the way, Thora stopped Bjorn. “These new people who are coming. Do any of them seem as if they’d pose a problem here?”
Bjorn’s brow scrunched and he shook his head. “Most are farmers looking for a chance to get land to work. New villages are a good opportunity to get choice land because there are fewer people to compete with for it.”
Thora relaxed a bit. She didn’t know why the thought of new people moving into the village made her uneasy. She’d met all but those who came this morning and they seemed eager to be a part of the village. None seemed to give off a threatening vibe, but still, Thora worried. It would be all too easy for Donnchadh to send in a spy or an assassin with the farmers. “How is the training coming for the warriors?”
“Extremely well. The shieldmaidens are holding their own with the men. Some of them, I think, are going to be devastatingly lethal in battle, being smaller and faster than some of the bigger men.”
Thora immediately thought of Rúna. “I’m glad my idea of letting the women train and fight is working out so well. Are there any in particular who stand out?”
Bjorn nodded. “Thorston’s wife Frida, Ásta, and Rúna. I know Frida has the advantage of being married to Thorston and being sister in law to Ulf, and I’m sure much of what she knows has come from being around those two. Ásta and Rúna surprised me. Rúna more so than Ásta. With Ásta being Beri’s niece and having grown up under foot at his shop, it’s not all that surprising to find she’d be comfortable with a weapon. However, I know she didn’t spend much time around the practice field; so much of her ability in using her weapon is a natural ability. Rúna, as you know, had no training and didn’t have the benefit of family to give her an advantage. Yet, she’s taken to the things I’ve taught like a duck to water. I only have to show her something once and she has it. She’s made her axe a part of her and moves it as an extension of her arm, even as a new trainee. It took me several months before I learned that, and there’s only one other person I know who picked that up as fast as Rúna. You.”
Thora smiled at the compliment. “She found me on the practice field early yesterday morning, when I couldn’t sleep. We sparred. At first, I went easy on her because I figured she was new and using my ability in full would’ve been unfair. However, I found out quick how good she is. What she lacks in knowledge, she more than makes up for with speed and agility.”
Bjorn nodded. “I can’t wait to see how she is a couple of years from now.” Bjorn raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “I can’t wait to see how they all are.”
“Being trained by you is a great source of pride for me, as I’m sure it is for them. They won’t disappoint you.” Thora smiled and wrapped Bjorn in a hug.
CHAPTER 11
As the wagon rolled into Jarl Hagen’s town on the outskirts of Wexford, Thora never thought she’d be so happy to arrive so she could get out of the wagon for more than a few hours. When Bjorn planned the trip, he planned to meet with the jarl who was the farthest away, claiming it would be better for all of them to get the longest stretch of the trip out of the way first. As Thora stretched her arms over her head, she was grateful for his planning. Three long days of traveling, stopping only long enough to rest, feed and water the horses, and catch a few hours of sleep themselves took its toll of Thora’s mood.
“No one is here to greet us?” She glanced around the town that was alive with activity, unsure of where she was supposed to go to meet Jarl Hagen. All sorts of buildings lined the main road through town, from a tavern, inn, and a stable to a large stone church, massive hall, and several longhouses.
Hagen could be anywhere.
Bjorn shrugged as he freed the horses and walked them to the stable. Thora and Rúna waited by the wagon until he returned.
“Thank you for letting me come with you.” Rúna’s eyes darted about as she took in all the activity.
Thora smiled. “No need to thank me. I thought it would be wise to bring you along, since you’d spent time in Limerick. You never know what will sway these jarls to our side.” When Rúna’s eye bulged out of her head, Thora added quickly, “I’m joking! I’m not going to give you to him or make you sleep with him, if that’s what you think.”
Rúna laughed, but she had the wide-eyed look of a frightened deer.
“I thought having someone familiar with his town, who could talk up the good points about it might stroke his ego by showing we think enough of him to bring you along.” Thora waved her hand. “Maybe I’m not explaining it properly.” If Thora were honest, she wanted Rúna here because she was good company. It had been a long time since she had someone close to her age to spend time with. Her usual companions, Skathi, Bjorn, and Beri were nearly twenty years older than she was. Not that she had any issue with spending time with those three. They were her favorite people—her family—after all. For whatever reason, she couldn’t bring herself to tell Rúna the real reason she asked her to join them on this trip.
Rúna’s dark eyes settled back into her head and she smiled. “If I can help, I’m happy to. I’m so excited to watch you work your magic on these jarls.”
Thora’s cheeks heated. “I don’t know about working magic, but I do hope I can convince at least a couple of them to join us.”
Bjorn jogged up after seeing to the horses. “The stable boy said Hagen is in that hall.” He pointed to a large longhouse across the road from where they stood. The double set of doors in the center of the large wooden hall stood wide open, allowing the cacophony from within to flow out.
Bjorn shrugged when Thora rolled her eyes. “I don’t know much about the man to know if his lack of greeting is an insult.”
“Might as well get this over with.” Thora squared her shoulders and crossed the road with Rúna and Bjorn following close behind.
Once inside, Thora tried not to let the look of disgust worsen as she took in the opulence this jarl insisted on having on display. Heads and skins of various animals, gold and silver gilded shields and weapons, and torches set in shiny brass brackets lined the walls. The jarl sat on what could only be described as an ornately decorated throne with all the gold and silver dangling from it, because she couldn’t see a single spot free from either precious metal.
As she looked around the hall, filled with several long tables packed with half-drunk men, the lack of noise permeated her senses and she became aware of all eyes focusing on her. She looked over her shoulder to Rúna and Bjorn and gave a reassuring nod that was more for herself than for them.
“This must be Thora Sveinsdottir. The wisp of a woman who supposedly defeated Odinkar on her own.” Hagen’s words dripped with disrespect and scorn and his face was a mask of boredom.
Thora let the insult go, made her way to the raised dais, and stood before Hagen, refusing to be put from her task. He appeared not much older than Galinn, but that was where any similarities to him ended. She gave herself a mental shake to stave off any further thoughts about Galinn. Hagen’s opulence didn’t stop at the hall or his chair. Every finger on both of his hands had a fancy ring of either gold or silver, and some had precious gems that sparkled under the fire light of the torches. Gold chains hung around his neck in such a number Thora wondered if he could stand up straight under the weight of them. A quick glance around the hall told her Hagen wasn’t one to share his wealth. His men seated at the tables lacked any of the jewelry or riches Hagen displayed on his person. There wasn’t a single man there with a tunic free from rips or holes, leading her to believe he barely provided enough for them to live comfortably on.
Hagen’s sweaty, tattooed, and bald head glistened under the torches, but he watched her with a lazy expression that told her he wasn’t the least bit interested in why she was there. She was determined to change his mind and make him take an interest. “Yes, I am Thora Sveinsdottir, the jarl of Dún Corcaighe.” She held his gaze and stood tall as he assessed her.
After he looked her up and down, he sucked his teeth and pasted on a fake smile Thora could see right through. “Welcome to my humble town, Jarl.”
“I assume you were visited by my rider who told you I was coming to speak with you. Do you wish to speak here, or somewhere less… distracting.” She pasted a fake smile of her own on her lips and broke his stare only to glance pointedly around the hall and at the men still staring at her.
Hagen burst out with a sudden laugh that filled that large room. “You don’t waste any time in getting right to the heart of the matter, do you?”
Thora spread her hands. “I see no point in taking up any more of your time than is necessary.” She hoped he didn’t pick up on the condescension she wrapped around each word. She already knew she wouldn’t like this man, no matter if he agreed to join with her or not, but she couldn’t risk alienating him by letting him see the disdain she held for him.
He tilted his head and regarded her for a few moments, as if her question required careful thought. He stood with a bright smile and motioned toward a doorway behind him. “Please, join me in here.” All traces of his disinterested and rude manner disappeared. Standing before her now was a smiling and pleasant man.
Thora’s eyes narrowed at his lightning fast shift in demeanor, but she made her way through the doorway as he requested. She signaled Bjorn and Rúna to stay in the hall. When she walked into the room, she blinked several times over the dramatic difference in this plain room from the lavish great hall. An old wooden table with four chairs sat in the middle of the small room that was well lit by the single torch hung on the wall by the door. That was all the nondescript room had within its four walls.
“Have a seat.” Hagen held a chair for her.
As she moved to the seat he held for her, her eyes skimmed over the dragon tattoo that stretched from one side of his head to the other. Though the tattoo had the typical Norse knot work around the dragon, the beast itself was far different from those she was familiar with. Where the typical Norse dragons were smooth and part of the knot work designs, this one sat on top of the knot work, had scales, and its head appeared encircled with a mane. Much like the over the top lavishness of the hall, he couldn’t have a common Norse tattoo. She nodded her thanks as she shuffled the chair closer to the table. She rested her forearms on the wooden surface as she waited for him to take his seat.
“Your messenger didn’t tell me of the reason for your visit. Care to do so now?” He eased his muscular frame into the seat, which creaked in protest.
She held her breath as she waited to see if the chair would bear his weight or drop him on his arse. When it didn’t budge, she leveled her gaze at him. “I’m looking to build up alliances that would prove successful in defeating Donnchadh mac Briain and the Bishop of Killaloe.”
The room filled with the sound of his deep, rumbling laughter. “You can’t be serious! You? Take on the High King of Ireland?”
Thora leaned back and squared her shoulders. “I am serious.”
His laughter died out and the red color that had gathered slowly faded from his face. “Taking on the king and the bishop is serious business. What cause do you have for such a campaign? You can’t mean to take his place.”
Thora shook her head, but held her annoyance in check. “My campaign is of a personal nature. Odinkar and Donnchadh had a secret alliance that allowed Odinkar to use Donnchadh and his army to kill people in my village, on more than one occasion. Unfortunately for all involved, some of those people were my parents and younger sister.”
Hagen’s eyes sparkled with something unreadable. “I’m sorry to hear that, and I do understand your motivation for such an undertaking, but why should I g
et involved? Out here in Wexford, a province of Leinster, I’m beyond Munster’s reach. Donnchadh may be High King of Ireland, but he’s hardly the ruler of a unified country, and hardly has any real power outside of Munster. So long as there are other regional kings, he will always have boundaries.”
Thora expected the question, and was prepared. “Leinster instigated the battle that cost him his father’s life. Do you honestly believe Donnchadh would be content to let that go?”
One corner of Hagen’s lips turned up. “Ah, but we were defeated at Clontarf, and it’s been ten years. If he wanted to do something, he would have by now.”
Thora slapped the table. “Have you not heard of anything going on in Munster in the last ten years? Donnchadh has been attacking any Norse who won’t join him. Can you not imagine any possible reason he’d need to get the Norse to join him that might pose a threat to you? It’s only a matter of time before he turns his attention outside of Munster.”
Hagen stroked his chin and considered her words. He dropped his hand to the table and nodded. “Donnchadh may do exactly what you say, but he may not. Or, if he does, he may not succeed. You’re suggesting I join you in your fight against him. If I do that, I risk angering my king. That’s a huge risk, seeing as I doubt Augaire mac Dúnlainge is eager to make similar mistakes as his predecessor in going to battle with the High King of Ireland.”
Thora scrubbed a hand down her face. He had a point, and it was one she didn’t have a reply handy. She began to think the trip was a waste of time. “That’s something to consider.”
“It is, to be sure.” He pushed himself away from the table and stood.
Thora’s hopes sank as she followed his lead. Try as she might, she couldn’t come up with a convincing reason for this man to risk angering his king.
“However, one thing I’m sure you’ve heard about me is how I enjoy a good skirmish, and I never shy away from angering my king. Especially when there’s gold involved.”
Rule of the Shieldmaiden Page 6
