Claiming Her

Aodh’s blond captain was pointing away into the valley. Everyone looked in the direction of his arm, except Aodh.

His lightly bearded face stared directly at her.

Katarina wished she had a slingshot. A pebble, aimed directly at his head, should do the deed.

His captain lowered his arm, and the group of men moved farther down the walkway. Aodh watched her a moment more, then, with a graceful shove, pushed off the wall and followed after.

*

“THIS WALL HAS BEEN ablated.”

The sun was rising bright, and Aodh was up on the walls with Ré and a few of the men. Cormac had just led MacDaniels and his men off to the hall, and Ré was pointing to a section of the eastern battlement wall.

Aodh dragged his gaze off Katarina’s face in the high window. If she’d had a bow, he’d be dead.

“It should hold,” Ré was saying, “but it will be weak. Best if we draw their attention elsewhere, and man it heavily. We’ll set up listeners, to detect any undermining activity. We’ll have to spare a few men from the walls for the task, and we haven’t many extra.”

Aodh shook his head. “We shall use townsfolk.”

Ré smiled a little. “You are assuming they will side with us.”

“I intend to be persuasive when I visit them.”

The sun hit the walkway as it rose, lighting Ré’s blond hair. “How persuasive?”

“A chest of gold persuasive. And my winning charm, of course.”

Ré snorted, but smiled.

Under the damp morning air lay a faint softness, as if spring was breaking through. The sky was already pearlescent, pink and orange mists glowing bright and brighter, spreading out as the sun battled its way up over the horizon.

In Ireland, everything was battle, even the dawn. Even Katarina. Especially Katarina.

“I sent out a few men to explore the sea of mud,” Ré was saying. Aodh dragged his attention back to their survey of the defenses.

Ré pointed over the wall. “’Tis a veritable swamp. At points, an actual one.”

“Quicksand?” Aodh asked swiftly.

Ré shook his head. “The villagers report ’tis more of a sucking mud. Horses won’t make it far. Cannons will die where their wheels first roll. The only way across is the way we came, along that narrow stony path. Anyone who spreads out will sink.” It was a single track. Very narrow. Fine for wagons and deliveries and friendly visitors. But for an army…

Ré said, “Elizabeth will never get an army across that. God could not get an army across that.”

They smiled at each other.

Clever Katarina.

They peered over the battlements, to the wide, sweeping vista of valley and distant hills, aglow now with the rising sun. Mists swirled low to the ground down in the dells. In the distance, green hills rose, thick with forests, deep and verdant. Aodh recalled them well. And under all this fertile, vivid, creeping dawn came the salty scent of the sea.

Something stirred in his chest.

He glanced back at the tower, but they’d walked too far, and he could no longer see the high window.

Ré followed his glance. “What are you going to do with her now?”

Shoving his cape back to let the nascent sun warm his skin, Aodh said simply, “She is no fool. She will come around.”

“Why would she do that? And further to the point, if she does not?” Ré’s face was tense and dark.