Page 84 of The Blue Viking

As if to belie Duncan’s protests, more men, and several women, ran into the hall complaining of new ghostly visits. One of the ghosts had been waving what resembled a penis and testicles, which the ghost claimed had fallen off a MacNab villein stationed at the edge of Campbell lands.

Rurik, who remained sitting, sipping a cup of ale, stifled a grin. Old John had been responsible for that last-minute inspiration, handing Toste a dead ram’s male parts, wrapped in a cloth. Good thing Duncan’s man hadn’t looked too closely at the hideous thing. He didn’t know about Scotsmen, but Viking male parts were much more beauteous than that.

“Where is she?” Duncan bellowed. “How do we get her to remove the spell?” Rurik suspected that Duncan didn’t really believe, but he was fearful of taking chances.

Rurik shrugged. “I cannot be certain where she is at the moment… ofttimes she flies off during the night, no doubt to visit with her coven or gather more familiars. Those black cats are hard to keep about… the animal sacrifices, you know.” Maire would kill him if she heard him speak of covens or familiars, and especially sacrificial rites. “Or mayhap she is dancing naked in the woods with her sister witches.” Yea, Maire would swat him good if she heard of this.

Duncan made a growling sound of impatience and drew his one-brow low over his eyes. “Get to it, man.”

“Well, I do know that she goes to the witch’s cairn in Devil’s Gorge every morn, just after dawn.”

“Devil’s Gorge?” he snorted.

Rurik nodded. “Yea, that narrow valley between Beinne Breagha and Beinne Gorm, which is so named because of its treacherous landscape in the wintertime. Maire goes there daily … something to do with renewing her powers and balancing herself… the kind of foolishness she is always spouting. But methinks ’twould be a bad idea for you to go there …” He let his words trail off deliberately, as if he’d revealed something he ought not to … like the fact that Maire would be alone, in a vulnerable spot. “Yea, ’twould be much better if you approach Maire in her own keep. I’m sure she would be willing to accept an offer of peace from you there.”

Duncan said nothing, and Rurik knew he had no intention of making any concessions. Rurik would bet a king’s treasure that the MacNabs would be going to Devil’s Gorge, and they would be there, down in that valley, long before dawn.

Just as he had planned.

Late the next morning, Devil’s Gorge …

Rurik and his men, with what was left of the Campbell clan, withdrew for a short respite. ’Twas time to assess their losses and prospects.

The prognosis was not good.

Swiping a forearm across his sweaty brow, with chest heaving for breath, Rurik glanced over at Stigand, whose skin remained as dry as old leather and whose breathing was normal, though he’d worked twice as hard as Rurik. “How bad?” he inquired.

“Not so many deaths … just Young John, Rob the Mutterer, one of the shepherds, and the stable lad. But injuries aplenty.” Scanning the “battlefield,” he pointed to the larger number of MacNab deaths and casualties. “They have lost fifteen men, or more, and they have a like number of seriously wounded.”

Their plan had fallen into place as if ordained by the gods. Once the MacNabs were far into the gorge, the boys had done their work with the sling shots to distract the men. Then the archers had gone into play, followed by hand-to-hand combat with sword and lance … not to mention Stigand’s famous battle-ax, Blood-Lover.

Even the deadly snakes had been brought forth again to scare the nervous war horses. Rurik didn’t want to think about where such a large number of vipers were kept hidden in this misbegotten land. Vagn had been heard commenting to Toste, on first seeing Old John bring the snakes forward, that he was never again going to sit on a privy seat with ease, or take a stroll in a dark wood, let alone make love with a wanton maid on a grassy moor. Bolthor had promised to develop a saga about it… if they survived.

But alas, all their efforts, successful as they’d been, had not been enough.

“Despite it all, we did good, didn’t we?” Rurik asked Stigand now, though he already knew the answer.

“Yea, we did. These Scots are a tough breed, I’ll give them that.”

“It was a good plan, Rurik,” Bolthor interjected from Rurik’s other side. “Everyone worked together, even the young ones with slingshots in the trees. But the numbers were against us from the start.”

“Well, it appears as if all of us will be drinking mead this day in Valhalla,” Rurik told his comrades, who nodded. Not a tear was there in any of their eyes. Death was a fate every Viking expected because of his violent life. All of the men joined their right hands together in one communal fist and raised it high in the air, shouting “To Thor!”

Rurik’s men went off to give directions to the Campbell clansmen who remained … directions for the final segment of this battle. No doubt, most of them would be going to their deaths this day, but they would be going down with dignity … and they would be taking a considerable number of MacNabs with them.

Off in the distance, the MacNabs, red hair shining in the sunlight, could already be seen assembling for the final clash, which would settle the fate of the Campbells once and for all. Rurik sighed audibly. He was only sorry that he had been unable to be the champion Maire sought… her knight in shining armor.

Well, Rurik had one last task before he entered the fray. Turning, he motioned Maire forth. She had been standing far back, up behind some boulders, where he had ordered her to stay. He would have much preferred that she remain in the keep, but she had refused, knowing her son was out here.

“Is there no hope then?” she asked worriedly, rushing into his arms. He tried to hold her at arm’s length, not wanting to soil her with the blood that stained his garments, but she would have none of that.

He drew off his leather helmet with its nose guard and kissed her softly, probably for the last time. “Not unless there is a miracle, and I see no sign of that.”

“What will happen now?”

“I want you to gather all the children and young boys. Go back to your castle and assemble only the essentials. Waste no time, Maire … do you hear me? It’s important that you not be there when Duncan arrives.”

“When … when Duncan arrives?” she stammered, terror in her green eyes.