Page 26 of Queen of the Shadow

“There are none left alive,” Tabiti said grimly, wiping blood from her face with the back of an almost equally blood-spattered sleeve. “Drest didn’t even leave them mounts. Half of the horses that raced away with him had no riders.” Her lip curled in disgust. “He sacrificed his warriors so he could escape, but he made sure his swift horses lived.”

“Not one left alive?” Scáthach said as she began to move among the fallen, though she quickly saw that Tabiti had not exaggerated. Every ambusher was dead. “Place the dead together,” she told Amage. “Build a pyre for them and their horses. I will return after I check on Uathach and Muirenn to offer libations to Odin’s Valkyries and light it.”

“Why?” Cuchulainn asked. “They ambushed us and almost killed us. Why show them the respect of a proper burial? I would toss them into the sea to feed your mother’s sturgeons.”

The warriors around Scáthach went silent. She turned to Cuchulainn. “I do not hold enmity in my heart for these warriors. They fought valiantly and were abandoned unjustly by their leader. They have done their duty. I hold Drest and Aife responsible for this ambush, not the warriors who made the mistake of following them. They have paid for that mistake with their lives. I know something of the dead and I would not have their spirits roaming my isle as they seek Valhalla.”

Cuchulainn’s blood- and gore-speckled brow furrowed. “If any of them were still alive, would you not end them after you got the information you needed?”

“No. I would have my healer tend them and then I would ransom them back to Lethra. When I kill, it is in battle. It is to defend my people and myself. Do Ulstermen know nothing of mercy?” she asked, meeting his gaze steadily.

Cuchulainn shifted from one foot to another before he answered. “It is not one of the strengths of the warriors from Ulster.”

“Then Cuchulainn, I want you in particular to understand that mercy does not equate to weakness. Our greatest strengths can often be found in forgiveness. I would that you take that knowledge back to Ulster even more than the successful completion of our battle feats.” She held his gaze until he looked away.

* * *

Surrounded by her guard, Scáthach rode back to the hillock late that night. Their mullein torches made a beacon in the night, illuminating the pyre and the bodies of forty-two ambushers and seven horses among the logs that had been dampened with tar. With Tabiti at her side, she poured a circle of mead around the pyre, hailed the Valkyries, and then lit the tinder. She paused before the burning pyre and murmured a prayer for the spirits of the dead Norsemen to find peace in Valhalla.

As she mounted her horse to return to the castle, Scáthach noticed Cuchulainn was with the group of guards accompanying her. He urged his horse to trot beside her.

“May I ask you a question, Queen Scáthach?”

Her gaze flicked to him. “Just Scáthach. And yes, you may.”

He cleared his throat. “Scáthach, earlier today you told me your divine mother values you, even loves you.”

“Correct.”

“We came very close to being killed today,” he continued.

“Is that your question?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. What I wonder is why, if your mother loves and values you so, she did not come to your aid today.”

“I did not call her.” Scáthach paused, thinking that she had never called for her mother to save her. “Also, Béfionn is in Valhalla visiting my father. I am not entirely sure she would be able to hear my invocation there. Regardless”—she met his amber gaze and smiled—“I prefer to save myself.”

He held her gaze and said softly, “Because you are enough.”

Her smile widened at his understanding. “Yes. Because I am enough.”

Chapter 6

When it happened Sentanta didn’t hesitate. He didn’t wonder whether he could do it or not because failure was not an option. He commanded his body to obey him—to move with strength and balance and courage.

Afterward when she bowed to him, Sentanta felt as if his heart was beating so swiftly and so loudly that she must hear it.

She should never bow to anyone. Especially not to him. He knew he was unworthy, even if she did not yet know it.

* * *

“What news?” Scáthach’s voice cut through the murmuring conversations of the leaders of her Shadow Guard, whom she had called to assemble early the next morning in the inner ward of the castle.

Tabiti spoke first. “Just after dawn three of the riders you sent out yesterday evening returned. Shepherds along the northwest coast report seeing longships.”

“Of course they saw longships. Geirr and the contingency from Lethra just visited and then returned,” Scáthach said.

“The mastheads of these longships were black dragons,” added Tabiti.