Chapter One
Sigmundson’s steading, Islay, in the remnants of the Dal Riada Confederacy (modern-day Bunnahabhain, Islay, Scotland)
Svanna Guthardottar regarded the tables in the hall with their brightly polished goblets and trenchers laid in the proper order for the feast of thanksgiving later.
This gathering was her final chance to ensure a match between Astrid, the former Queen of Agthir, and the lord of this steading, Sigmund Sigmundson.
To ensure the happy event, all the preparation for this feast needed to be complete perfection.
A marriage between the pair would make it easier for her to remain on Islay rather than having to return to Agthir, where she’d spent over a decade impersonating the Queen’s true daughter, Ingebord, to ensure all their lives would be safe.
Even after Ingebord—now calling herself Maer—returned and claimed her place through a love-match marriage to the late King’s son and heir, Svanna maintained the facade of being the Queen’s daughter because it protected all concerned.
Ingebord had been declared Astrid’s foster-daughter, so Svanna’s deception had protected all involved, particularly Astrid, from the late usurper King’s fury at being deceived in that fashion.
Thus, it was only since she and Astrid had travelled to Islay shortly after the usurper King’s death that Svanna had reclaimed that feeling of being who she was and had started using her birth-name of Svanna again, a name she liked far better than Ingebord.
She knew Sigmund sought a strong alliance with his fellow petty kings in Islay to protect them from the threat of invasion. To her mind, he’d make the perfect protector because Sigmund had once been Halfr the Bold, the legendary warrior who had whisked away Maer to the east when Agthir fell.
‘My lady, the Queen, asks you attend her on the shore,’ one of the servants said, rushing in. ‘The petty kings are arriving, and she wants to ensure the proper hospitality is given before the church service begins.’
Svanna dusted her hands on her apron. The huge stone beside the high table which the Queen had had moved this morning to make the swearing of oaths easier appeared unsteady, but she agreed with Astrid about the move. ‘I hope all the kings are prepared to swear the oath.’
‘Once Lord Sigmund is proclaimed high King of Islay, becoming a king in truth, the entire island will be at peace.’ The servant grinned. ‘Then maybe he will marry Queen Astrid. Your foster-mother is good for him. His mood has improved no end since you both arrived.’
‘An honourable peace works for everyone,’ Svanna said, reciting one of Astrid’s sayings before she left the hall. ‘We must expend all our efforts to achieve it.’
Astrid had taught her all the tricks of ruling and being a peace-weaver, including negotiation, building alliances and the subtle diplomacy which came through hospitality, in preparation for Svanna ruling or marrying, but thankfully Maer had returned in time.
After her return, Maer had urged Svanna to only marry if she truly desired the match rather than for strategic reasons, but Svanna had never met a man she could love in the way Maer loved her husband, and she doubted she ever would.
Her mind skittered away from what had happened to her in Astrid’s garden nine years ago, and her narrow escape from the fate Turgeis Drengrson intended.
Young warriors must be allowed their fun, her old nurse had claimed, but what he wanted to do to her was not Svanna’s definition of a good time.
Her nurse had often excused warriors who overstepped, feeling women should endure and not get themselves into precarious situations in the first place.
Svanna had heard her give similar lectures to the serving girls in the hall.
Caution and vigilance about potential danger were her watchwords.
Before she reached the harbour, the swineherd stepped in front of her, blocking her way.
‘Lady Svanna, my new assistant has seen many ships, Northern ships, in the next harbour but one. Lord Sigmund says that the lad must be mistaken and as excitable as I was at that age, but he’s wrong.
The lad’s as steady as they come. Make them listen, please. ’
Svanna forced a smile and refrained from telling the excitable man that Sigmund had laughingly predicted that the swineherd would come up with nonsense about Northern ships, notorious for such predictions apparently.
But only a fool would attack such a large gathering of warriors.
‘The possibility of attack is why Lord Sigmund posted guards.’
‘But not on the far harbour.’
‘I’m sure they’re simply merchant vessels who have stopped to take on water. Does your assistant know the difference between a Northern merchant ship and a warship?’
The swineherd rubbed his chin. ‘What you say rings true. I’ll tell my lad.’
‘You do that.’
‘Lady Svanna—’ the priest said, hurrying up to her after she had stopped to chat with a little girl and her mother.
Although Svanna had accepted that she was unlikely to have children as she had no plans to marry, she enjoyed spending time with them.
Sometimes she wondered what sort of mother she would have been if the fates had twisted her life’s thread differently.
‘If you are going down to the harbour, can you ask Lord Sigmundson to attend the service? He is refusing to speak to me about it.’ He lifted an ornately decorated hand bell.
‘I shall be ringing St Fillan’s bell to call the faithful and it would gladden the other kings’ hearts to see him there. Perhaps your foster-mother as well?’
‘He didn’t want to upset anyone as his beliefs are private,’ Svanna said, giving the excuse Sigmund and Astrid had used several times. ‘But I will mention it.’
‘The additional weapons store for when they are in the service is full of hay, Lady Svanna. That swineherd said his boy would move the hay, but it hasn’t been done.
’ The priest drew himself up to his full height, resembling a wet crow.
‘I won’t have weapons of war in my church.
Not today. Not ever. Please tell Lord Sigmund that. ’
‘I’ll ensure it is done,’ Svanna said, mentally sighing.
By the time she’d finished supervising the servants and sweeping the weapons store clean, the shoreline was littered with coracles.
Most of the kings and their entourages had made their way up to the church in preparation for the service of thanksgiving.
The stores bulged with arrows, spears, a wide variety of knives and the occasional steel sword.
Svanna set a single guard over the store, more as a sop to the swineherd and his assistant.
‘Will we have enough food?’ Astrid murmured as Svanna took her place beside her. ‘The king from Kinsella has brought twice the number of men he said he would.’
‘I took the precaution of ensuring another pig was put on to roast earlier,’ Svanna answered with a small curtsey, and took the horn filled with mead from the Queen. ‘You should rest before tonight. They will expect the great Queen of Agthir to shine.’
‘They would be speaking of my daughter Ingebord now, not me.’ Astrid’s lips turned up into a tired smile. ‘Always worrying about my health, Svanna. You should be thinking about getting married and having a family.’
Svanna allowed the comment to pass without remark. They both knew why she had remained unmarried. To avoid Svanna being forced to marry to install one of Drengr’s sons on the throne, Astrid had taken Svanna’s advice, and sent word to Sigmund requesting her true daughter’s return.
‘Is that all the kings?’ Svanna counted the kings who’d arrived on her fingers. ‘Where is the king of Gruinard? Surely he should be here by now, ready to swear his allegiance.’
‘Ill, apparently.’ Sigmund made an irritated noise.
‘Always one or two who would find an excuse. Jealousy. But he will fall in line once the other kings pledge their oaths and you are proclaimed the high King of Islay, Halfr,’ Astrid said with a shrug. ‘Trust a woman’s intuition for once.’
Sigmund wagged an indulgent finger at the name Astrid used, as if to remind her that they were in a public place. The late king of Agthir, Astrid’s second husband, had put a bounty on Halfr the Bold’s head which had never been fully rescinded.
Svanna shaded her eyes and looked at a karfi, a small Northern warship which had nosed into the harbour, carefully navigating between the rocks and sunken ships guarding its entrance. ‘I thought the Northmen from Dubh-Linn were not supposed to know about this.’
‘They don’t,’ Sigmund answered with a frown. ‘If anything, they think the gathering is set for next week. I did stress the importance of secrecy to all concerned.’
‘Then why has that ship entered the harbour?’ Svanna asked, fighting against the rising panic in her throat. Panicking served no one, but she couldn’t help her stomach tensing. ‘I don’t recognise the sail or the yellow and green markings on the hull.’
‘That much is obvious,’ Astrid murmured. ‘Focus on what is not, Svanna, and see if you can use that to your advantage. Which is what a trained peace-weaver like you does.’
Svanna focused on the ship and tried to spot something that might help, rather than remarking that she was unlikely to have to put her skills of peace-weaving to any meaningful use.
‘The swineherd mentioned his assistant had spotted several Northern warships anchoring in the next harbour but one,’ she said, shading her eyes and trying to pick out the motifs on the shields which still hung at the ship’s sides.
‘Could this be the start of a larger delegation from Dubh-Linn? Has news of the gathering reached Eire before Lord Sigmund wanted it to?’
‘The swineherd was always excitable as a youth. Now he has been promoted and has acquired an assistant, he is even worse,’ Sigmund said. ‘I’m sure Maer kept you entertained with tales of him and his wilder fantasies back in Agthir.’