Page 17 of Queen of the Shadow

“She has a rebel army?”

“Only a couple hundred warriors. She wouldn’t even have that modest number if that bastard Drest hadn’t joined her.”

“Drest? That surprises me. I remember him as the big redheaded Wolfskin who guarded Father’s left while you guarded his right.”

Geirr nodded. “And that’s how it was until Aife got her claws into him. She’s been whispering to him for years, sowing discontent, manipulating him. When Ardgeimm died and I announced what Lethra already knew, that you are your father’s chosen heir, Aife disputed the succession; and when the majority upheld your father’s wishes, she called for warriors to support her and dispute your crowning. Drest left the Wolfskins.”

“And some of them followed him.” Scáthach said the part Geirr left unspoken.

“Yah. Your sister has become an expert on horseflesh. Under her guidance Lethra has the swiftest horses in our country and in many others.”

Scáthach nodded. “I’ve heard of the excellence of Lethra’s horses. I did not know that was due to Aife.”

Geirr nodded reluctantly. “It is undeniable that Aife’s breeding program has been highly successful. Warriors respect her expertise and value her horses, even if her leadership is otherwise lacking. She seems to attract dissent and conflict.” Geirr’s lip curled in disgust. “She even changed your father’s sigil. Instead of a lion as the masthead, she has embraced the serpent dragon Nidhogg.”

“Her sigil is a symbol of darkness and strife? That makes no sense,” said Scáthach.

“It would make perfect sense if you knew Aife.”

Scáthach shrugged. “As you are well aware, I do not know my sister. The last time I saw her I was five and she was a toddler.”

“Well, she went from a shy child to a waspish, angry adult because of what she did not have.”

“The crown?” Scáthach asked.

“Her father’s love,” said Geirr.

“I can’t believe my father would reject any daughter,” Scáthach said firmly.

“It wasn’t so much a rejection as it was obvious he considered her less than,” explained Geirr.

“Less than?”

Geirr caught her gaze. “Less than the child of Béfionn, fairest of all goddesses.”

Scáthach blew out a long breath. “Geirr, I’m sorry Aife is causing you problems.”

“Problems!” Geirr shouted. “Civil war is more than just aproblem.She doesn’t have enough warriors to overthrow us, but her raids are costly to our stores of sheep, goats, pigs, horses,and our countrymen and women.She raids and steals and cuts down anyone who stands against her, warrior or farmer.”

“I apologize,” Scáthach said. “I do not mean to make light of what you and Lethra are going through. But I am not your solution. No absentee ruler is your solution.”

Geirr seemed to deflate. His shoulders bowed and he suddenly looked old. “This visit has made me understand that. And still I hope you will return to your home and your people.”

Scáthach gestured to Dunscáith. “This is my home. Here are my people. I will always be a friend to Lethra, but I will not be your queen.”

Geirr stood straighter and nodded grimly. “And yet I hope time will change your mind. I ask that you consider this last thing. Do you remember your father’s longhouse? Do you remember Lethra?”

“Of course!” She was surprised by the question. “I remember it well.” Scáthach smiled nostalgically as she recalled. “The particular blue of the sea, the softly rolling hills, the emerald green of the trees and long grasses. I can still almost smell the sweetness of the spring wildflowers and feel the thick pelts on my bed pallet. Father’s longhouse was huge, though in the winter it was snug and warm, especially when his favorite horses shared the space with us.”

His gaze softened. “Yes, you do remember. Then consider this—Lethra and Dunscáith have twin spirits.” At her frown he continued. “I am in a unique position to know this. Lethra is my home, but I visited Dunscáith with your father countless times over the past decades.” He gestured at the castle behind them. “Your walls are stone instead of timber but they are infused with the same warmth and the same spirit of comradery.

“You lead your people with wisdom and fairness—as did your father—and like him, the best warriors flock to you, eager to serve a queen who is worthy of their loyalty. You believe you would be leaving your kingdom if you accepted our crown but you would only be changing locations. Your students would still come to you. Your people would still revere you.” He bowed deeply to her. “And I, your father’s most trusted warrior, would be honored to serve you.” He straightened, smiling. “Just consider it.” Then he smoothed his beard, and his mood lightened. “I hear the Hero of Ulster has joined your student warriors.” He chuckled. “That will annoy Forgall Monach.”

“Forgall Monach? The nephew of the king of the Fomorians?” When Geirr nodded, she continued. “Why would Cuchulainn training with me annoy him?”

“Because Cuchulainn wants to marry his daughter, Emer, and Forgall Monach doesn’t think the young hothead worthy of her. So he set up a series of challenges Cuchulainn must complete before he accepts his suit—the last of which is to be trained by the Queen of Shadow herself for one year and one day.”

Scáthach shrugged. “Why my students come to Dunscáith is unimportant. As long as they can pass my tests and behave with honor, I will accept them and train them without prejudice. So far, Cuchulainn has done both. Though I’m surprised Forgall Monach doesn’t want to be bound by marriage to such a talented young warrior.”