Swordland (The Invader Series Book 1) by Butler Ruadh

Author:Butler, Ruadh [Butler, Ruadh]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781783752720
Publisher: Accent Press
Published: 2015-02-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Eirik Mac Amlaibh was the chief man of Waesfjord. He held no crown and was of little family, but money was all in the merchant town. Eirik was merely a businessman; a successful one, yes, but a businessman nonetheless. Just a year had passed since he had stood under the linen tent on the muddy quayside before all the people of Waesfjord, man and woman, and had been elected to command by the Thing, the parliament of town burghers. Petty disputes and disagreements, perhaps the odd murder or theft – that was what he had thought he would have to preside over during his period in office. He had thought that it would be easy and that bribes, power, and favour would flow into his coffers and enrich him. But now there was a threat to his city and it made him feel ill at ease.

Word had reached him of an army arrayed to attack his town. Perhaps army was the wrong word. Rabble was a better description of the force which the Vestmen of Laighin would put against his walls. Disorganised, unruly, and unarmoured, they could stay outside his walls like so many other armies had before them. Waesfjord had never been taken and it would not fall under his command either, he was sure. Eirik sat in his longhouse, the biggest inside the settlement, and tried to ignore the bustle of people who waited outside for their cases to be heard. He yawned and wished that they would all go away so that he could have time to think about his town’s situation. The reports from the traders said that the new men were armoured like all Norse and Danish warriors but with strangely shaped shields, triangular rather than circular. Probably from Cluainmín, he considered. It was not beyond the realm of possibility that the King of Laighin, Diarmait Mac Murchada, had hired some Danish warriors from Hlymrik to fight for him. Who else could they be?

Of course, Eirik had heard about the exile of Diarmait, but he had not realised that the old fox had returned to his lair in Fearna. Had he known, Eirik would have expected Diarmait to bring his army south and demand that Waesfjord do homage to him, hand over hostages and tribute, or face the possibility of attack. Eirik giggled at that thought; he had been away in the land of the Franks the last time Diarmait Mac Murchada had attempted to capture Waesfjord, but he had heard the stories of his humiliating defeat before the town’s walls and did not doubt that it would be the said outcome should he attempt the same. If anything, Waesfjord was stronger than it had been since Diarmait’s exile, stronger than anything Laighin could throw against her high walls. So why should Eirik do homage to Diarmait? Why should he and his friends stump up silver and cattle and slaves to pay for peace, he wondered. Even with the support of Cluainmín, the Uí

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