The Swordswoman - Books 1-3

Chapter 3-2

"No, no I have not," Bearnas agreed. "Now get some sleep. You have had a busy day and tomorrow will be no quieter."

Sleep proved elusive as Melcorka lay on the wooden planks of Wave Skimmer"s deck, staring at the familiar stars in this most unfamiliar environment. Her mind raced with a score of questions, from wondering who she was, to what was going to happen the following day.

Wave Skimmer"sShe touched the sword and experienced an immediate thrill of power, withdrew her hand and the feeling ebbed away. So it was as she surmised; the weapon possessed the power, not her. She remained the same island girl she had always been. But why had her mother kept so much from her? And what was her mother"s mysterious history?

"You may find out, and you may not." Granny Rowan sat above her, smiling and obviously guessing her thoughts. "Your future should be more important to you than your mother"s past. In the meantime, get some sleep. God knows you might need it. Only He knows what the morrow will bring."

"I won"t sleep," Melcorka said.

Granny Rowan"s smile broadened as she touched a gnarled finger to Melcorka"s eyelids. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

The sun was well risen before Melcorka awoke, to find all the crew busy and a breakfast of freshly caught salmon roasting on hot stones, together with cold water flavoured with rowan berries.

"Decided to join us, sleepy head?" Granny Rowan passed across a pewter mug. "Drink, eat and wash, Melcorka, and then check your sword."

They were in an oval basin surrounded by hundred foot high cliffs, with only the rock tunnel as a passage in and out. Trees clung to precarious cracks and minuscule ledges of the rock, acting as a shield from any eyes above.

"How do we get up there?" Melcorka scanned the cliff-face.

"There is a path." Bearnas fingered the half-cross pendant that hung around her neck. "And then our journey begins." She stroked the throat of Bright-Eyes and then launched the eagle into the sky. "Off you go, my pretty, and live your life. You and I will never meet again."

"Never again?" Melcorka asked.

Bearnas" gaze followed the eagle as it soared upward into the stark blue of the morning. "This is my last adventure, Melcorka. My destiny awaits." She looked around the basin. "Soon, you will walk your own path."

"Mother, I don"t understand," Melcorka said.

"You will, when the time is right." Bearnas" smile was gentle. "Just accept what comes."

"Time we were moving," Baetan said, "The morning is wearing on. I"ll take the rearguard." He tapped his sword meaningfully. "I have scores to pay with these Norsemen."

The path was wider than a finger but not as wide as a hand, treacherous with slithering stones and tangled roots that lay across the surface and so steep that mountain goats would flinch. Bearnas led them at a trot, leaping over obstacles as if she was a twenty-year-old youth and not a middle-aged mother. The others followed, shedding the weight of age as they negotiated the climb.

The cliff led them to a plateau, where ice-carried boulders marred a sea of scrubby grass. Bearnas wasted no time in admiring the vista of nearby hills and more distant, ragged, blue mountains. She increased the pace to a canter, splashing through patches of bog-land without pause, leaping across the burns that churned downward from the heights, easing past the miles. Behind her, the Cenel Bearnas followed in a short column of women and men.

The sun was halfway to its zenith when Bearnas lifted her right hand in the air. The column halted at once, with Oengus stopping Melcorka with a single finger on her forehead. Bearnas dropped her hand to touch her nose, and the Cenel Bearnas lifted their heads to sniff the air.

"Smoke." Granny Rowan"s low voice carried to every ear in the column. "And burning meat."

Bearnas pointed to Oengus and Melcorka before sinking to a crouch, until she was nearly invisible amidst the blowing heather. She nodded inland.

Oengus crooked a finger to Melcorka and shifted to the left, away from the column and toward the hills. He moved in a crouch and she followed, wondering how this grey-haired man could retain his energy for so long.

The column was ten minutes behind them before Melcorka saw a haze of blue smoke drifting in a broadening column ahead. She tapped Oengus on the shoulder.

"I see it." His voice was hard. "What you see next, you will always remember. Are you feeling brave, Melcorka?"

She nodded.

"Aye, you"re your mother"s daughter right enough." His wink was incongruous as he loosened his sword in the scabbard across his back. "Here." He passed over a lump of fat. "Grease your blade with this. It will come out that little touch faster, maybe enough to save your life when half seconds count."

He waited until she returned the blade to its scabbard, then dipped his hands into a peat hole and smeared the black muck over his face. "Pay close attention to the cheekbones and forehead, Melcorka, for these parts reflect the light," he told her quietly. "Cover them."

Melcorka followed his lead, watching his critical eye.

"Keep your head below the skyline," Oengus said, "don"t move quickly and for God"s sake keep downwind of any beast." He nodded and slid away through waist-high heather, twisting toward a slight ridge over which the blue smoke hung thick.

They ducked as they came to the crest, keeping their heads beneath the level of the swaying purple plants as they peered through the smoke.

Where once there had been a clachan, a village, now there was only a charnel house. Where there had been fifteen stone-built cottages roofed with heather, now there were fifteen smouldering funeral fires. Where there had been a herd of cattle, now there were scattered bodies, except for three whose butchered remains were roasting on long spits. What had once been a thriving community was now a place where corpses lay splayed out on the blood-smeared ground, and three n***d young women screamed in terror. They lay bound together by stout ropes under the grinning gaze of twenty men with blonde hair and long swords.

clachan"I knew this place once," Oengus said quietly, "in the old days."

"What"s happened?" Melcorka asked.

"As you can see, the Northmen have happened," Oengus said quietly. "It looks like a small raiding party found this settlement." He nodded toward the devastation. "This is typical work for our neighbours from over the sea."

Melcorka fought her nausea at the sight of the dead bodies and the blood. "I"ve never seen anything so horrible in my life."

"I know you haven"t." Oengus said, "and you"ll see worse, a lot worse. What you see here is only just the beginning."

One of the Norse warriors grabbed the youngest of the captives by the hair and lifted her to her feet, laughing when she screamed. Three more of the Norsemen began to give advice, their voices and language harsh against the background of s*******r.

"She must be all of ten years old," Oengus said.

"We must stop them," Melcorka spoke urgently. "We can"t let the Norse kill them as well."

"They will be glad when it is their time to die," Oengus said. "Norsemen are not gentle to their slaves."

Melcorka"s eyes widened as she realised what fate awaited the three women. "We have to help them."

"All two of us?" Oengus tone was slightly mocking. "A grey-bearded old man and a child with no experience of war, pitted against a full Norse raiding party?" He shook his head. "That would be a short encounter."

The young girl screamed again, and then once more as the largest and most grizzled of the Norsemen lifted her by her hair and swung her over his shoulder, laughing.

Melcorka shook her head. "We can"t just watch," she said.

Oengus shrugged. "What do you suggest? There are twenty of them."

Although Melcorka merely touched the hilt of her sword for reassurance, the surge of power ran from Defender up her arm and thrilled her entire body. She did not recognise her laugh. "Only twenty?"

"Melcorka." Oengus attempted to restrain her with a hand on her arm.

She shook him off, drew Defender with a shrill shriek of steel and strode forward, feeling a tingle of excitement, along with a surge of savage anger. "Hello, Norsemen! I am Melcorka, and I order you to leave these women alone."

"Melcorka!" Oengus shouted after her, but Melcorka was already a dozen paces closer to the Norse.

The Norse warrior threw the young girl aside as if she were a sack of grain and pulled his sword free of its scabbard. "You are keen to die today," he said casually. His sword was long and bright with use, and he held it with such familiarity that Melcorka knew he was an expert. He was also carrying an old injury, with a weaker left leg, a fact Melcorka noticed without thinking.

"One of us will die." The words sounded overblown even as she said them.

The Norseman snorted and advanced, head held high and sword low. Melcorka felt Defender stir in her grasp, waited until the Norseman was close, turned and ran. His coarse laugh followed her, rising as she stumbled and fell.

He loomed over her as she rolled onto her back and stared upward. Almost casually, he poised his sword above her throat, but the slight hesitation as he picked his spot granted Melcorka sufficient time to kick out at his weak leg and swing Defender as he winced. The blade took the Norseman on his left side between his third and fourth rib, with the blood spurting in a crimson cloud. Melcorka twisted her sword, withdrew, stood up and finished him with a single thrust to his heart.

"One!" she yelled and brandished Defender. "Come on, you hounds of the north. Come and face Melcorka!"

The Norsemen were eager to oblige, with three of them drawing swords and rushing toward her, while a fourth released his axe from a log of wood and wandered over to enjoy the s*******r of the innocent.

Melcorka waited until they came close. She noticed that the man on the left blocked the sword arm of the man in the middle; she could temporarily discount him. Accordingly, she slashed across the eyes of the much more dangerous man on the right and continued her swing, so the tip of Defender caught the nose of the next man and neatly split it in two. He screamed and grabbed at his face, which left only one man to kill. Melcorka saw the hate in the Norseman"s eyes when his companions fell at his side. She knew he was too angry to be rational.

"Come on, berserker!" she taunted and stepped aside to give herself room to swing. The Norseman roared some incoherent oath and charged straight at her. Although the warrior ran at full speed, to Melcorka, he seemed to move in slow motion, with his sword swinging from behind his head.

She lifted Defender to block his blow, felt the shock of steel on steel, whirled her sword in a semicircle and flicked upward and sideways. The Norseman"s sword was ripped from his grasp and sent spinning into the air. He stared for an instant, but recovered and lunged forward, straight onto Melcorka"s sword as she spitted him through the throat.

"Melcorka!" she yelled and poised herself for the next challenge.

After witnessing the death of his companions, the axe man was more cautious. He shifted his weapon from hand to hand, circling Melcorka, looking for an opening or a weakness before committing himself to battle.

She waited for him, unsmiling, feeling the power and skill thrill through her.

At last the axe man advanced, feinting low toward her legs before stepping back and delivering an overarm swing that would have cloven her skull and travelled right down her body, had she not parried with the edge of Defender. Her blade sliced through the wooden handle of the axe, leaving the Norseman with twelve inches of useless ash wood. Melcorka recovered, feinted to his eyes and sliced with a wicked under-and-up cut that emasculated him and continued upward to gut him cleanly. The Norseman fell in agonised silence and stared as his intestines coiled around him in pink-and-grey horror.