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Lying in bed, Lothar traced circles over Dara’s bare back as she nestled upon his shoulder. He gazed at the outline of sunlight surrounding the tapestry-covered window.
Day break, he sighed.
He gazed down at Dara, wrapping his arms around her, then leaned down and kissed the top of her head. He breathed deeply, stretching his legs; he noticed her knee move over his thighs. Suddenly his shaft grew hard for her again. He wondered how such an innocent move could be so seductive even while she slept.
Suddenly, a pounding on the door broke his peaceful morning, followed by Park shouting.
“Lothar, Dara, wake up.”
Dara lifted her head from his shoulder and Lothar rose from the bed, picked up his trousers as he padded to the door.
“You better have a good reason for disturbing us,” Lothar said through the door as he pulled up his trousers. He opened the door enough so that he could slip through, then closed it behind him.
He saw Park’s face turn red, then turn away. He gazed down his body. “It’s a rash from the nettle-cloth shirt I wore for the ceremony last night.”
Park turned toward him and shook his head. “Ships are headed this way.”
“Tell me more.”
“The watchman spotted what he thought was a single ship in the sunrise. As it drew closer, the one ship became many and spread out as they neared the mouth of the River. He only had moments to send a messenger.”
“Go inform King Malachy and the men.”
“We’re awaiting your orders, Lothar.”
“Tell them to meet me in the banquet hall. I’ll be there momentarily.
“Yes, Lothar.”
Lothar watched Park turn and leave before reopening the chamber door, and entered.
Closing the door, he turned, spotting Dara lounging in bed, the blanket covering over her breasts, her red tousled hair framing her face, still flushed with the heat of their lovemaking. He grew hard again just gazing at her reclining there.
“Dara, you are an enchantress,” he breathed walking over to the bed. Placing his knee on the edge, he leaned over, and kissed her swollen lips.
“I want you to stay safe.” He reached for his tunic, then stopped. He wasn’t going to wear the nettle-cloth one again; he’d have to grab his tunic from the garrison. He turned back to Dara. “If any trouble comes near the village, I want you to head home.” He walked to the door.
“No! I won’t go. I know you will need everyone that can fight. I just need to get dressed.” She pulled the linen sheet around her body and stood.
“My brave Valkyrie, you are a healer, and I trust you enough to be where you are needed the most. Men and women may be injured; you will be needed here. If there are any problems, promise me that you’ll leave immediately for home. I want you safe.”
Dara nodded. “I feel useless, just waiting here.”
“I understand; try to rest while waiting. The respite will be welcome when you find yourself surrounded by wounded.”
“Just as long as you are not one of them,” she said, then pulled his head closer for one more kiss.
“If I journey to Valhalla today, I am going as a Norseman should; fighting ‘til my last breath.” He closed his eyes and placed his forehead onto hers. “Odin willing, I will return to you. So is my word-.”
“So is your bond,” Dara finished.
He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. He watched her close her eyes and bite her lower lip, then sniff. Finally, she tilted her head back, her green eyes wet with tears, gazing up into his. He took a deep breath, kissed her forehead once more, then turned and closed the door behind him.
Lothar hurried to the garrison. He grabbed his tunic, giving it a few good shakes to remove the last remnants of dried mud, before placing it over his head. Next, he grabbed his sword, then headed to the banquet hall. Upon entering the room, he greeted his father-in-law with a bow.
“Sorry to drag you away from your bride this early.”
“Tell me what the messenger saw.”
* * *
AFTER LOTHAR LEFT THE room, Dara threw off the sheet and hurriedly dressed, pulling her silky under-dress on, forgoing the over-dress in her rush to find out what her father was going to have Lothar do. Slipping her feet into her shoes, she grabbed her cloak placing it over her shoulders as she carefully opened the door.
Breathing a sigh of relief that she wasn’t being guarded, she tiptoed down the hall, listening for male voices to lead her to them. Finally, she heard Lothar’s voice and she crept along the corridor towards the banquet hall, stopping just outside the entrance and listened.
“Scores of dragon-headed ships are headed directly towards the River Bóinne. If they get past our village, they will attack the interior of our land. The other kings will be under attack as well,” Malachy argued.
“We need their help,” Lothar said.
“No, we cannot trust the other tuathas,” Malachy thundered.
“The raiders will not care who they attack, they are after treasure. I know their tactics. When they have all that their satchels will hold, they will take slaves, women especially,” Lothar explained.
“Where is Dara?” the king asked.
“She will stay here, and if the fighting comes too close to the village, she’s to head home,” explained Lothar.
“It was your idea to train women to fight,” argued Malachy. “Why not let her fight alongside you?”
“Malachy, your daughter is a healer. We will need her talents to help us get better if necessary. Besides, I have seen her try to attack a rabbit with a hatchet.”
“And...?”
“We had fish that night instead.”
Gritting her teeth, Dara scowled at the memory of how he disarmed her so easily when she was primed to attack that rabbit.
“What do you suggest?” continued Malachy.
“Send a messenger to each of the Kings of Hibernia asking for their help.”
“I told you before, No!” Malachy shouted and crossed his arms. “I will not open my borders to the other king’s armies.”
“You will find an even stronger enemy invading your river,” Lothar stated.
“Then get out there, Lothar of the North, and protect my land as you promised to do so,” the King ordered.
Hearing footsteps approaching, Dara backed into the corner, as Lothar walked into the corridor. “The man is a fool,” she heard Lothar mutter before he turned then walked out of the fortress.
Dara held her spot until she was sure that Lothar had gone. She had heard her father’s refusal for asking other king’s help. She quickly walked back to her chamber. Dara paced the floor, her hands clutching and releasing repeatedly. She turned her wedding ring on her finger. “two worlds become one,” the words repeated her mind.
Stepping over to the chamber window, she watched Lothar greet the other men from the village and walk out of sight as they made their way towards the river.
“Goddess, what am I going to do?” She paced the floor. “Lothar is out there with people he hardly knows; yet he’s going to protect them against his own people. I don’t know if he’d be able to attack his own countrymen. I am the Priestess of the Sisters of the Stone Circle. There must be something I can do. Goddess Danu, help me find a way to help Lothar and our people. I do not want harm to come to those people who truly are Lothar’s friends from his country. How can I keep both sides safe?”
Dara recognized Lothar’s pouch on the table next to the wall. “Why didn’t he take this with him?” Dara wondered as she strode to the table, opened the pouch, then emptied the contents onto the table.
The rune stones spilled out along with his cuff and the four figures he’d carved of Odin, Frey, Thor with Mjolnir, and Valkyrie. Dara picked up one of the stones and stroked her thumb over the smooth surface, recalling what Lothar told her about how to use the stones.
“State the matter, and stand as a warrior before the Gods. The stones will confirm your decision, Valkyrie.”
Dara repeated the words several times as she rubbed the stone in her hand.
Nothing.
Dara placed the rune back on the table. She glanced at the other runes scattered across the wooden tabletop at a loss of how to use them. She gazed at the four wooden figures near the stones. She picked up the Valkyrie figurine, remembering what Lothar had told her about Valkyries.
Clutching the figure in her hand, Dara strode to the door. “Amena, help me quickly,” she called out the door and left it open.
“Dara,” Amena came running in. “We are gathering into the tower, you can help us with food stuffs.”
“I need your help first,” Dara insisted. “I want you to help me get ready for battle.”
“You cannot help the men,” Amena protested. “Lothar and your father won’t allow it.”
“I plan to save them.” Dara removed her cloak and struggled into her white wedding dress, then smoothed it against her body. “Now I need your help in the kitchen with the flour.”
