Page 51 of Queen of the Shadow

“Yes.” Fearghas gulped more beer from the wooden mug before he continued. “I spoke to one of the local merchants. Do you recall the baker, Beitris?”

Tabiti spoke before Scáthach could. “We all remember Beitris. Her cakes alone are worth a trade trip to Dùn Dòbhrain.”

“She was wounded but managed to escape the castle by stealing a small fishing boat. She made it across Loch Alsh to Skye. I found her as I was patrolling along the coast near the loch.” Fearghas paused and shook his head sadly. “Before Beitris died, she told me a woman who called herself Queen of Lethra took the islet. The mastheads on each of her ships were black dragons, and it was on her sigil.”

“Aife.” Tabiti said the name as if it tasted foul.

Fearghas nodded. “Yes. Beitris’s last words were a message to you, Queen Scáthach. She wanted you to know that Aife and her men have been gathering information on you and on Dunscáith. She said they were particularly interested in the names of your current students. Once they discovered Cuchulainn still trained with you, they stopped asking so many questions.”

“Cuchulainn? Does Aife have a history with Cuchulainn?” asked Uathach.

“No. She couldn’t. He would have mentioned knowing her, or even knowingofher,” said Scáthach.

“It is odd,” said Tabiti.

“What of Lord Kintail?” Scáthach asked Fearghas.

Fearghas’s lips flattened into a line before he replied. “The Lord of Dùn Dòbhrain is dead, as are his three sons. Beitris said when she escaped, his three daughters were alive but had been taken prisoner by Aife.”

“She’s probably thinking to marry her lead soldiers to them,” said Uathach. “And say that’s her claim to Dùn Dòbhrain.”

Tabiti scoffed. “More likely she’ll gift them to her lead soldiers to do with as they wish.”

“I will not allow that to happen.” Scáthach’s voice was hard as the stone from which Dunscáith was hewn. “The warriors who attacked Cuchulainn and me were not Aife’s men. They were from the mainland, far south—sent by Aife—and told if they brought her my head, she would exchange it for Dunscáith Castle.”

“Never!” Uathach shouted as Tabiti exclaimed, “That bitch!”

“Exactly,” said Scáthach. “My intent was to ignore Aife as long as she left me unbothered. Well, I am bothered.Entirely bothered.” Rage boiled through her veins. “Tabiti, choose a member of the Shadow Guard to go to the Kylerhea ferry. Tell them we will need passage to the mainland for one hundred with horses and supplies.”

“When?” Tabiti asked.

“Have the guard leave immediately. We will arrive by dusk today.”

“Then we ride around Loch Duich and surprise Dùn Dòbhrain?” Uathach said.

“Yes. But before we retake the settlement, we’ll need to know how many warriors Aife has and if she’s put up defenses around the fort.Thenwe retake Dùn Dòbhrain, and after we destroy Aife’s army, we return it to Lord Kintail’s daughters. If Aife survives the battle, she will agree to leave my lands and never return, or I will send her to the Underworld with my own hands.”

Together Uathach, Tabiti, and Fearghas shouted a war cry, lifting their fists in the air.

* * *

“How is he?” Scáthach quietly asked Caitir, the only druid on Dunscáith and their healer.

Caitir left the hearthfire and the tea she poured from the pot steeping over it to join Scáthach just inside the doorway to the spacious infirmary—though, at the moment, the only bed occupied was by Cuchulainn, who appeared to be sleeping. “Queen of Shadow.” She bowed to Scáthach. “I believe were he not the son of a god, he would be dead by morning.”

“But?”

“But heisthe son of a god.” Stork-like, the tall healer tilted her head to the side and added, “Lugh, I believe.”

“Yes, that is correct. Cuchulainn’s father is Lugh of the Long Arm.” Scáthach spoke formally to the healer. She respected Caitir’s healing abilities, but even though the druid had been at Dunscáith for a decade, there was a sense of unease between the two women. Scáthach understood why. Caitir was a druid and, were she not a healer as well, her only purpose at Dunscáith would be to serve as a bridge to Annwn and the gods. But Scáthach did not need a bridge to the Underworld. She did not need someone to interpret omens and signs or to beseech goddesses or gods to hear her prayers. Scáthach’s blood gave her access to and understanding of Annwn no druid could ever have—and that made Caitir, and druids in general, uneasy.

“Well, Lugh’s divine blood will save his life as I could not were he any other warrior,” said the healer.

“How long will it take for him to recover?”

Caitir lifted one shoulder. “I cannot say. It should be a lengthy recovery, but his body is already fighting the infection and winning. I would recommend he not strain himself for at least a fortnight after his leg is able to bear weight.”

Scáthach nodded. “I will be sure he heeds your recommendation. Thank you, Caitir.” She was leaving the infirmary when Cuchulainn’s voice stopped her.