Rule of the Shieldmaiden Read online

  Rule of the Shieldmaiden

  Jaime Loughran

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  Cover by Broken Candle Book Designs

  https://www.facebook.com/bcbbookdesigns/

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 Jaime Loughran

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 9781708208813

  CHAPTER 1

  Ireland, May 1024

  “You want to go after the High King and the Bishop of Killaloe?”

  At Galinn Ketilsson’s incredulous expression, Thora Sveinsdottir stood up, returned to her spot on the log by the fire, and took a sip of mead. She didn’t understand his reluctance on the matter. Maybe she was giddy from too much mead, or her taste of success in defeating Odinkar had her thirsting for more, but regardless of why she wanted it, the idea had merit. “I know it sounds crazy, and I know it will be one of the most difficult things we’ve ever done, but I will see this through.”

  There was no way she would accept anything less than victory in killing High King Donnchadh mac Briain, Bishop David Travers, and the man Travers ordered to kill Rónán. She needed to see Donnchadh killed for the part he played in her family’s death. Travers—Thora refused to address him by his title or anything other than his surname—was an awful man who used his position within the church as a license to commit horrendous atrocities on people he viewed as enemies. Torture was his favored method of punishment, though what the crimes people were punished for were often up for debate. Bjorn was slowly recovering from his run in with Travers. The thought of his condition, and how he could have died, brought a lump to her throat. She swallowed hard.

  “It’s not a crazy idea, but taking that idea and turning it into a workable battle plan is a monumental task. Thora, your village has forty people total. Most aren’t even fit to fight because they’re either too old, too young, or women Odinkar never allowed to train for battle. Travers has enough men in his guard to wipe all of you out. Donnchadh’s army… Well, you already know what it’s capable of.” Galinn spread his hands wide with a frown. Thora bristled at the reminder of how efficient the army was at launching surprise attacks and causing massive damage and casualties. “Look around you. You and your people are in a temporary outpost because the fort isn’t secure enough to protect you, much less be defensible while you plan your attack.”

  Thora squared her shoulders. “The more you tell me I can’t do it, the more determined I am to prove you wrong.” She held up her hand to stop his response. “That doesn’t mean that I think you’re wrong, or that I’m being childish in my insistence. I know it will take time. We need to rebuild the fort at Dún Corcaighe. We’ll need allies who could help, and I’ll open training up to any woman who is physically fit and willing to hold an axe or sword.”

  Galinn nodded and chuckled. “Bringing back the days of shieldmaidens is a good idea…if you’re any indication of how they’d turn out.” His smile faded and his eyes took on the faraway look she was beginning to recognize as a bad omen.

  She knew his thoughts had returned to the idea of leaving, but she was at a loss on how to change his mind. She couldn’t bear the idea of him leaving after everything they’d been through together. They were a good pair, and if the events of the last few days were any indication, they were better off together. He opened her eyes to the truth of Jarl Odinkar’s deceit, and how it led to her family’s deaths. If not for Galinn and the information on Odinkar he shared with her, she wouldn’t be jarl. Thora never had that kind of aspiration, but when she met him, everything lined up in such a way that her claiming the title as jarl was the natural solution. She found a peace she never expected to find, because when she killed Odinkar, she killed the person responsible for the deaths of her mother, father, and younger sister. She had that because of Galinn.

  She brought him back to the village he was sent away from and showed him the people weren’t to blame for what Odinkar did to him as a child. She wiped away his tarnished view of the village by telling him the truth—something Donnchadh never did. Though he hasn’t said much, she knew she helped him let go of the anger and hatred he carried with him for years.

  Since their meeting, they’d been able to begin the process of healing deep wounds, and she didn’t think either of them would have that opportunity if not for the other. Though they had a rocky beginning and she wanted little more than to kill him, she now found herself enjoying his company. She was hoping to have more time to get to know him better and explore the newfound feelings. “Would you give me a couple of days before you make your decision on leaving?” When he appeared as if he would object, she added, “I could use your help in coming up with a plan to get these people back to the fort and get it shaped up to be our home.” She waved her hand and glanced around at the displaced villagers sleeping in their lean-tos and makeshift tents. “We can’t stay here.”

  His mouth drew into a tight line. “I suppose a few days won’t hurt… I just hope no one finds out what I’ve done,” he said with a sigh. “If the people here find out I led that attack against the village…” He shook his head with a frown and looked away from her. “The guilt is weighing on me.”

  Thora’s heart went out to him. “I can’t imagine how you feel, and I don’t know how to help you through this. I feel like you helping to get the fort more secure might ease some of your guilt, or at least give you a useful outlet for it. Maybe by helping to keep these people safe from future attacks, you’ll be able to reconcile your guilt against the good you’ve done.” Her selfish desire may have partially motivated her request for him to stay, but that didn’t change the fact that doing something helpful for the people he wronged may help alleviate some of his guilt.

  Galinn nodded as he lowered himself from his seated position on the log to the ground. He slid down until the log propped up his shoulders while he rested his head on it. He closed his eyes.

  Watching as he relaxed in preparation for sleep, Thora’s own need for sleep tugged at her consciousness. The celebration of her becoming jarl the night before had stretched beyond daybreak. Thora noticed only a few people were still up and about, and most of them appeared as if they’d fall over any moment. She yawned and stretched her arms over her head. “Galinn, I have a makeshift bed we could sleep in.”

  His mumbled response was incoherent. Thora gave a longing look in the direction of the lean-to Bjorn set up for her before she settled in beside Galinn. Sleeping on the ground wasn’t her favorite thing to do, and she much preferred the comfort of her furs and blankets over lying outside with only her clothes to cover her. She leaned her head on his shoulder and smiled when he lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. She breathed in his masculine scent and all the tension eased out of her body as she admitted to herself that in his arms was where she wanted to be.

  “Aw, Bjorn, would you look at these two?” Skathi’s voice forced Thora to climb reluctantly out of the lovely dream she’d been having about training with Galinn. She cracked open one eye, instantly regretting the action as the morning sun intensified the mead headache that slammed around her head.

  “Aye, they look so loving and peaceful all wrapped up in each other.” Bjorn chuckled.

  Galinn stirred beside her and sat up, removing his arm from around Thora. He looked at her as if he didn’t know how she’d gotten there, but then he smiled. “Oh, that must have been why I slept so good.”

  Through barely opened eyes, Thora saw Bjorn nod. “I always sleep my best when I got this one in my arms.�
� He playfully slapped Skathi’s backside, causing her to blush.

  Thora didn’t have anything to add, as she was trying to work out how the implications of Galinn’s words lined up with his desire to leave. In the end, the best she could come up with was that he cared about her—just not enough to stay. The thought hit her stomach like a stone.

  “Come on, Jarl. There’s work to be done on this, your first official day as jarl.” Bjorn nudged her leg with his boot. She wanted to push his foot away, curl up with Galinn, and go back to sleep, but Bjorn was right. There was work to be done, and she had to make a strong showing if she hoped to convince the people that she took her position as jarl seriously. As all of the things she needed to tend to piled up in her mind, the drowsiness of sleep faded. Though she only slept a couple of hours, her energy rallied enough that she felt well rested.

  She stretched away the remains of sleep and stood. “I’ll get a quick meal, and then we’ll see about getting to work on those fields for crops.”

  Bjorn rubbed his chin. “Are the fields the biggest priority? I’d like to get back to the fort to continue the work you, Skathi, and the others started with our home.”

  “Me too, but if we don’t establish fields for planting quickly, it’s going to be a lean winter.”

  “She has a point, Bjorn, and I’m surprised you need to be convinced of the priority of food.” Skathi patted his belly with a chuckle. Bjorn may have been approaching his fortieth winter, but he was still lean and muscular—and he had a healthy appetite to keep his warrior’s body well fed.

  “Aye, I do like my food!” Bjorn joined in with the women’s laughter, though the effort obviously hurt his still healing wounds. Even when it was at his own expense, Bjorn was always quick to laugh. Thora smiled, reassured because if that trait was still there, Bjorn would be his old self, and hopefully carry no lasting effects from the torture he suffered at Travers’ hands.

  Galinn was slower to rise, but he did stand and stretch his arms over his head. “While you’re working in the fields, I’ll ride to the fort and see what needs to be done to fortify the place.”

  Bjorn nodded while looking around the outpost. “I’m sure you’ll find no shortage of things needing to be done. Talk to Beri. He can help.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Galinn and Beri rode to Dún Corcaighe in an uneasy silence. The closer Galinn got to the fort, the more uneasy he became.

  “I know the fort would make a good location for the village, but I’m not sure you’ll be able to get enough of the defenses in place before an attack.” Galinn scanned the tree-lined road for anything out of the ordinary, but saw only the muddy road cutting through the trees and disappearing into the distance ahead. The forest on either side of them didn’t appear to hold anything other than the usual forest critters that scurried off as they approached. The cloudless sky allowed the spring sun to wrap them in a comforting warmth. For all intents and purposes, the ride to the fort was pleasant with no sign of trouble. Why was he so uneasy?

  Beri grunted. “I know it’s risky, but from what I recall of the place, it’s worth the effort. Assuming we can get a reasonable amount of the defenses in place before an attack, we should be able to defend it even without a large force inside the walls.”

  The opened gates of the fort came into view as the horses entered the clearing and then splashed through the knee-deep water of the river crossing. Galinn’s stomach knotted as tension snaked its way through his whole body as they emerged from the river. Brandr tossed his head and Galinn brought him to a stop. Beri’s horse took a couple of steps before Beri halted him as well.

  “What’s the matter?” Beri looked back at Galinn and then twisted to look around the fort.

  Galinn shook his head. “I don’t know. I have this feeling something isn’t right.” He nudged Brandr forward and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  Beri nudged his horse and held him beside Galinn and Brandr. “It’s wise to be cautious.”

  They crossed through the gates and found no movement within. Everything appeared to be as it was the last time Galinn was there. The mud through the gates showed their fresh hoof prints as the only traffic coming into the fort, as all the others were older and exiting.

  “We’ll split up and check the place to see if anyone is here. We’ll meet back here.” Galinn dismounted and let Brandr’s reins fall to the ground.

  Beri dismounted and tied his horse’s reins to an old hitching post. He pushed the wooden post to make sure it was secure before walking away from the massive bay horse. “One of these days, you’ll have to tell me how you did that with Brandr.” Beri pointed to the chestnut horse who stood without wandering off.

  “I taught him to stay, much like you would with a dog, only I did it while the reins were on the ground.” Galinn shrugged. He’d never get used to people’s fascination over his horse standing as if tied to a physical object when his reins hung to the ground. It was such a practical thing to have a horse do, he hadn’t realized training a horse to ground tie wasn’t common practice.

  Beri shook his head with a chuckle and walked away to check the area of the fort Galinn indicated was his.

  As Galinn walked around, he marveled at the progress. In the short time Thora’s people were here, they’d managed to erect the frames of several structures and reclaim several others that stood against the test of time after the abandonment of the previous owners. If they could accomplish so much in the couple of weeks they had, maybe he was wrong to think Thora’s plan to attack Donnchadh was an impossibility. He smiled as he made his way back to the horses to meet Beri, satisfied they were the only people there. When he saw Beri’s giant frame moving toward him, he waved. “Anything?”

  Beri shook his head.

  “Good. Now we have to figure out the best way to get this place secured.” Galinn put his hands on his hips and looked around. The palisade wall was more of a suggestion of defense than an actual barrier to enemies. He pointed to the section by the gate. “The walls would be the first thing, yeah?”

  Beri followed his gaze and then walked over to the poor excuse of a wall. “I’d say so, yes. The posts might not need replacing.” He placed a meaty hand on top of the post closest to him and pushed it. The post didn’t move much under Beri’s pressure.

  Galinn’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s hard to believe the posts would be that sturdy after so many years of being left to rot. It’s good news for the village because they won’t need to make as many posts.”

  “We’ll check each of them when we’re ready to rebuild, but I don’t think it would be that difficult or take too long. We’ll focus on the section of wall by the river’s crossing, since that’s the main point of entry.” His gaze turned to the sections of the dilapidated wall that lined the river. “I doubt we’ll be attacked by boat, but we’ll get to the rest of the wall once the defenses along the crossing are established.” Beri patted the post before turning to look over the rest of the wall.

  Galinn walked along the wall until he came to a section where the vertical and horizontal supports were in place, but many of the timber stakes that made up the palisade wall itself were missing. He hoisted himself up and straddled the horizontal post. “Good, strong support,” he muttered when the old wooden support held his weight. The shallow point in the river was wide enough for a cart to cross with caution. If the cart driver moved too far left or right, he’d find his wagon falling into much deeper water. Galinn didn’t know if the crossing came to be because of natural silt and river stone deposits or if the original builders laid the foundation. However the crossing came to be, it made the river one of the best natural defenses the place could have. The heavily wooded road leading to the fort funneled travelers to the clearing on the opposite bank before narrowing them once again on the crossing. An idea took root.

  “Beri, does your village have archers?” Galinn called to the giant who was testing posts as he moved along the wall to see what could stay and what needed to be r
eplaced.

  Beri nodded as the post he leaned on gave way. “That needs to be replaced,” he laughed as he caught himself before he fell over. “Why? What do you have in mind?”

  “A tower on either side of the gates and another halfway down on either side, all just behind the wall. Four towers total.” He pointed to four locations that would effectively provide coverage for the entire wall of the fort facing the clearing across the river. “Then, a walkway between the two towers along the wall on either side of the gates.”

  Beri looked in the directions he pointed and rubbed his stubble covered chin. “We can man the towers with archers, and even the walkways, if necessary.”

  Galinn nodded.

  Beri looked through the gates to the river crossing. “That would allow us to take out a good number of enemies before they even get across the river.” A smile spread across his lips. “I like how you think!”

  Galinn turned his gaze to the inside of the walls. The old buildings Thora’s people started to reclaim sat on the far side of the fort, opposite the gates. The buildings Thora and her people started building favored the Norse layout of their old village with an open town center. But what if the buildings could do what the tree lined road and narrow river crossing did? He threw his leg over the beam he sat on and slid to the ground. When he landed, he brushed his hands off, and walked toward the would be center of town. When he got there, he frowned as he took in the small house in the town center. Along the back of the house was a bunch of framing suggesting the structure would be much larger when finished.

  “What if you put a stronghold there in the center? Make it tall, made of stone, and having small windows archers could use. These buildings can be finished, but you could build a few more here,” he pointed to the stretch of empty land between the gate and the first of the structures Thora’s people built. “They would act to squeeze any invading force into close quarters while making the path to the stronghold the easiest and most likely route.”