“If I must pay the price, then a warrior's death is at the end of the road for every fighting woman.” Sheathing Defender, Melcorka turned away. Astrid and Bradan were waiting beyond the door as she emerged.
“Now we have to find Erik Egilsson,” Melcorka said. “And a holy book.”
“A holy book?” Bradan repeated.
“If that's what contained the Book of Black Earth,” Melcorka said, “then that is what we must find. Remember that Erik's black blade more than matched mine last time we met. I have no doubt he can do the same again, and if he brings an army with him, we need all the help we can muster.”
“We certainly cannot fight him alone,” Bradan said.
“The High King will raise an army,” Melcorka said. “And Jarl Thorfinn, perhaps. If only we knew where Erik might land.”
“Let's get away from Dun Dreggan,” Bradan said. “Although I'm not sure how.”
“That is how.” Melcorka nodded to Catriona, which floated a few yards off the stack. “And then we seek the king.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
King Mael Coluim did not remain at any one spot, but toured his country, ensuring the loyalty of his nobles with the threat of his presence. Melcorka found him at the ancient stronghold of Dunkeld, where the Lowlands meet the Highlands, and the River Tay rushes powerfully between darkly wooded banks.
“We seek Mael Coluim,” Melcorka told the doorkeeper, a broad man she did not know. “I am Melcorka Nic Bearnas, and this is Bradan the Wanderer.”
“You're the Swordswoman,” the doorkeeper looked her up and down with little respect. “I heard the Butcher killed you.”
“You heard wrong,” Melcorka said. “Please tell the High King I am here.”
“He won't be pleased,” the doorkeeper warned. “He wanted the Butcher killed.”
The doorkeeper was correct. While MacBain greeted Melcorka with a friendly nod, the High King glowered from either side of his long nose.
“Speak your piece, Melcorka Nic Bearnas.” Mael Coluim listened to their tale with a growing frown, interrupting with a peremptory raising of his hand. “I ordered you to kill this Butcher, this Erik Egilsson, yet you failed, and now he is going to invade my realm with a fleet.”
“Yes, your Grace,” Melcorka said. “We thought we had better warn you of the danger.”
“If you had succeeded in killing him, there would be no danger,” Mael Coluim said.
“Yes, your Grace,” Melcorka said. “And if he had succeeded in killing me, I could not have warned you.”
The king glowered at her, then gave a surprising smile. “That is true, Lady of the Sword, that is true. Where is this Erik Egilsson going to land?”
“I do not know,” Melcorka said. “But if he intends to ravage both Alba and the Jarldom of Orkney, it will be somewhere close to the border of both realms.”
Mael Coluim and his chief nobles sat around a table, with the king, deep in thought, drumming his fingers on the wood. “He will strike on the coast of Moray, then, Fidach as the Picts would have it.”
“That would be my guess, your Grace,” Melcorka said.
“Do you know when, Swordswoman?”
“I do not,” Melcorka said. “I presume as long as it takes him to gather an army and a fleet.”
Mael Coluim's fingers continued their drumming. “That will not take long. There are always many Danes and Norsemen willing to fight for pleasure, glory or plunder, while King Cnut has already tried, and failed, to invade Alba. After our victory at Carham, he will wish to show his power and regain his prestige.”
“With your permission, your Grace, Bradan and I will go back north,” Melcorka said. “Perhaps Jarl Thorfinn will help.”
The king”s brow gathered in a frown. “I have no desire for a Norse army marching across Alban soil.”
“This war is more important than any squabble between Alba and the jarldom of Orkney, your Grace.” Melcorka tried to emphasise the danger to both realms.
“One set of Norsemen is as bad as another,” Mael Coluim said. “I won't have Jarl Thorfinn's army on my land.”
Melcorka nodded. “As your Grace pleases.” She nodded to the king, determined to go her own way.
“May God guide your footsteps.” MacBain made his sole contribution to the conversation. Although he smiled, his eyes were troubled.
“Where now, Melcorka?” Bradan asked as they stepped out of the royal dun. The Tay continued to rush past as blackbirds sweetened the air with song.
“Jarl Thorfinn,” Melcorka said. “Perhaps he'll have more sense than Mael Coluim.”
“Perhaps.” Bradan tapped his staff on the ground. “The ways of kings and jarls are not our ways.”
* * *
Jarl Thorfinn listened to Melcorka with more attention than Mael Coluim had shown. He nodded when she explained about Dun Dreggan and frowned at her mention of the Book of Black Earth.
“I have heard of that book,” Thorfinn said. “I thought it a myth rather than anything real.”
“It is real,” Bradan said, “and it is powerful. All the evil of the Cu-saeng is condensed in that book.”
“I do not wish it in my hall,” Thorfinn spoke with rough humour. “I knew there was a reason I did not collect books!”
“Even without that book, Erik Egilsson's force will be powerful,” Melcorka said. “I heard he intends to gather all the broken men, all the wolfsheads and outlaws, all the berserkers and the scum of the towns to invade Alba and your Jarldom.”
Thorfinn nodded. “I command warriors, men of honour, not things like that. I will gather a war band fit to throw them back into the sea. Where will they land?”
“I do not know,” Melcorka said. “I suspect somewhere on the Moray Firth, from where they will have easy access to both nations.”
Thorfinn took a long pull at a horn of mead. “If they land in my jarldom, I will be ready.”
“If they land in force, do you have sufficient warriors to repel them?”
“We are Norsemen.”
“I know. But Brian Boru defeated Norsemen at Clontarf in Erin a few years back. One of your predecessors, Sigurd of Orkney, died then, with many of his men, men from your
