“I'll face you!” the dark-eyed woman said. Dropping her cloak, she stepped forward. “Drop the sword and fight me.”
“Fair is fair.” Melcorka sheathed Defender, unbuckled her sword belt and handed it to Bradan. “Come on then!”
The dark-eyed woman advanced slowly, with her hands extended and fingers like claws. She slashed at Melcorka's face, sneered as Melcorka withdrew sharply, and aimed a kick at the prominent scar on Melcorka's left thigh. Dropping to a crouch, Melcorka caught the woman's ankle, lifted it high and pushed. The woman fell backwards and screamed.
“Get her! She's not got a sword! Drown her!”
Recovering their courage, the women, again reinforced by a handful of men, rushed forward, some picking up stones to use as weapons, others with their mouth open in a formless scream.
Running to Melcorka's side, Bradan stood ready with his staff, in time for Melcorka to lift the dark-eyed woman and throw her into the loch.
“I forgot you picked up many tricks in the Chola Empire.” Bradan handed Defender back to Melcorka.
“You are still 20 to two.” A stout, middle-aged woman lifted a stone in each hand. “You can't defeat us all!”
“It's 20 to three.” The captive woman stood at Melcorka's other side. Despite the tearstains on her face, she appeared determined to help as she picked up a fist-sized stone.
“You can run, my friend,” Melcorka murmured. “You do not have to stay here.”
“I will fight at your side.”
“As you wish.”
Staying out of range of Defender and Bradan's staff, the women began to throw stones, most of which fell well wide and others that Melcorka swatted with Defender. Only when one jagged rock hit the slave did Bradan swear.
“I've had enough of this. Come on, Mel!” Running forward, he swung his staff at the women, scattering them as Melcorka and the slave joined him. Their attack had the desired effect, with the crowd splintering before them. The blonde slave threw her stone after the running women.
Lifting the women who had fallen, Melcorka and Bradan threw them into the loch, found the dark-headed woman crawling back ashore and tossed her as far into the water as they could.
“Now what are we going to do with you?” Bradan addressed the slave woman, who stood awkwardly, pulling Bradan's cloak tight around her.
“Well,” Bradan said, the first thing is to get her some clothes. I need my cloak.” Wading into the loch, he grabbed one of the women who were trying to get back to land, stripped her of her leine and handed it to the slave. “Put that on. It will soon dry.”
Melcorka sheathed Defender, watching the direction in which the woman had come. “I think we should walk westward now and find a boat, or something to cross the loch. How about you?”
“May I come with you? Who are you?” The slave gave a small bob of respect.
“You may not. I am Melcorka, and this is Bradan. What is your name?”
“I am Thyra. Please take me with you. I have nowhere else to go.”
“Where are you from? Not this part of Alba with your hair-colouring.”
Thyra drew herself up to her full height, so the top of her head nearly reached Melcorka's chin. “I am Norse. I am Thyra, daughter of Frida, daughter of Estrid.”
“Good,” Bradan said. “Well Thyra, daughter of Frida, daughter of Estrid, we are heading into Norse territory. Perhaps we will take you so you can find your people. How did you become a slave?”
“The Alban raiders captured me as I was washing clothes on the shore of the loch,” Thyra said. “They were going to sacrifice me to the beast.”
“So we gathered,” Bradan said as they walked along the shore, searching for a boat to cross to the far side.
“It is a horrible creature.” Now that she was free, Thyra seemed determined to talk.
“Have you seen it?” Melcorka asked.
“Oh, yes,” Thyra said. “It's ancient, according to my mother Frida, and very evil, and it lives deep underwater.”
“Ah,” Bradan said. “Where did you see it?”
“I saw it when it came out of the water to feed. It was above the water, a great horrible thing, dark as night, and when it came out, everything became cold.”
Bradan listened, not sure whether he should believe Thyra.
“I can't see it now.” Melcorka scanned the loch. “So as soon as we find a boat, we can cross the loch.” She looked at Thyra. “Did the Alban raiders come by boat? If so, it might be nearby, and we can borrow it.”
Thyra nodded. “Yes. A six-oared galley but I don't know where it's berthed.”
“There will be other boats.” Bradan slid down to the stony shore of the loch. He did not mention the ravens that still circled above or the grey woman he saw watching them from the shelter of a copse of trees. Despite the ministrations of the People of Peace and the Druids, he was unsure if Melcorka had fully recovered yet.
“Look – what's that ahead?” Thyra pointed to what looked like dun-coloured lumps floating close to the shore.
Bradan trotted ahead, holding his staff like a weapon. “It's our way across the loch,” he said. “That was very lucky.”
The sheepskins bobbed on the surface of the water in the lee of a single-log boom. Already sewn and inflated, they would act as a float, if nothing else.
“The raiders use them sometimes,” Thyra said. “They cross to our side of the loch and kill our people.”
Bradan eyed them, thought of the legends about this loch and wondered if his optimism was correct. At least, he told himself, we will leave that grey woman behind unless she can swim.
“Those will do,” Melcorka said. “They will support us as we swim across the loch.”
“What about the monster?” Thyra asked.
“If we see it, I'll worry about it then,” Melcorka said. Bradan nodded in satisfaction when he saw Melcorka touch the hilt of Defender. She was nearly herself again.
“I don't want to escape being a sacrifice only to be eaten anyway.” Thyra looked nervously at the
