Page 87 of The Refuge

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The sounds of battle erupted all around Catrìona, echoing in her ears as they had on the day the vale was attacked, the same sounds she had heard in her dreams. Hearing Deidre scream, she could be patient no longer.

I must get Deidre to safety.

Bracing herself for what lay ahead, she cautioned Giric, who stood at her side, “Do not board the ship. You must promise.”

“Aye,” the boy said reluctantly. “I promise.” But he picked up some rocks and followed close on her heels as she left her hiding place and ran to the side of the longship where the fighting raged.

She could hardly blame the boy for wanting to be of use, for she did not like standing idly by as those she loved fought her enemies.

Surveying the deck from where she stood, she saw the fighting stretched from midship to the prow. Assuring herself the king’s men lived and Steinar and her brother stood strong, she scrambled over the side and hurried toward the back of the tent. “Deidre!” she hissed a whisper.

Her handmaiden emerged and flew into Catrìona’s arms. “Oh, mistress,” she sobbed. “You found me!”

“I never gave up,” said Catrìona. “Come, we must get you away before we catch one of those swords.” She pulled Deidre toward the side of the ship, thinking to drag her to safety, when one of the Northmen, seeing them escaping, plunged toward them, his sword flashing.

“And now we have two,” he said as he reached them and slowly brought the edge of his sword to her neck, stopping just short of her skin. “Ivar will be pleased.”

She froze, afraid to breathe.

Beside her, Deidre cried, “Nay!”

Suddenly, behind the Northman loomed Steinar like a snarling lion. The sword held to her neck flew away with a blow from Steinar’s short blade. Dropping his sword, Steinar grabbed the Northman’s long hair, drew back his head and sliced across his neck.

Blood spurted onto Catrìona.

“Go!” shouted Steinar as he picked up his sword and turned to confront another.

Catrìona dragged Deidre to the side and they scrambled over the gunwale to the ground. As she looked back, she saw Colbán trip over a body on the deck, leaving his shoulder open to a Northman’s blade. He grunted as it sliced through his tunic and he sagged to the deck. Steinar ran to defend him against the killing blow, but before Steinar could reach him, an arrow whooshed through the air and lodged deep in the Northman’s chest.

From the prow, Niall shouted, “’Tis two!”

* * *

Steinar could feel his leg weakening from his many stumbles on the deck, now slippery with blood and strewn with bodies of two Northmen. Colbán was wounded and unable to lift his sword. The two remaining Northmen breathed heavily as they lunged toward Steinar and Angus but, fighting side by side, they battled the Northmen back. Niall, unwounded in the prow, nocked another arrow.

’Twas then the Northmen’s dark-haired leader made his appearance, leaping onto the deck of the ship. “You would dare take what is mine?” He waved his sword slowly back and forth in front of Steinar. Even in the gloaming, the steel glistened. Beside the man called Ivar stood the one Steinar had dubbed Husky, returned now that he had his master to fight with him.

“She is not yours, Ivar,” said Steinar. “Do Thorfinn’s sons know you took her in your attack on the Vale of Leven?”

“They know naught of it. And there will be no one to tell them once you and these few with you are dead.”

Ivar’s arrival had brought a pause in the fighting and distracted the Northman fighting Angus. Out of the corner of his eye, Steinar saw Catrìona’s guard seize his opportunity and plunge his sword into the man’s belly.

Angered, Ivar and Husky attacked with vengeance, the third Northman joining them. Now it was three swords against two. Steinar had been in worse scrapes but he was tiring and liked not the odds. Ivar was skilled and fresh for the fight. But Steinar’s determination to kill the man who had destroyed Catrìona’s family gave him new strength.

From the side of the ship, rocks flew through the air to pelt their Norse adversaries. Out of the corner of his eye, Steinar glimpsed Giric raising another rock. “Get him out of here!” he yelled to Niall.

Niall dropped from the prow and came around the side to grab the boy from his perch.

Steinar and Angus fought on, managing to hold off the three Northmen. It took all of Steinar’s strength to keep Ivar at bay, slicing his sword through the air in rapid strikes while dancing to avoid the Northman’s skilled blade.

An arrow flew through the air, piercing the chest of Husky, sending him to the deck.

“’Tis three,” came Niall’s cry.

“This one,” Steinar said, his tone full of scorn as his eyes narrowed on Ivar, who was raising his sword, “is mine.” Blocking the sword’s blow with his own blade, he let loose a furious attack that backed the dark Northman to the side of the ship.