Dubh-Linn: A Novel of Viking Age Ireland (The Norsemen Saga Book 2) by James L. Nelson Read Free Book Online Page A

be given out only when there was a grave threat to the land. And there was. The spreading stain of fin gall , the white strangers, the Vikings in Dubh-lin. They needed to be eradicated, stamped out like vermin before they became too numerous to defeat. The fin gall could not be driven back into the sea if the three kingdoms were making war on one another. The Northmen were powerful, and only united could the Irish counter that threat. That was the purpose of the Crown. That was what Brigit would do. Once she had given birth to the tánaise ríg , the heir apparent, and through him solidified her own rule over the seat of the high king.
      “A toast! A toast!” Flann mac Conaing stood, three places down from Brigit, and raised his goblet. Flann had given Brigit away in the absence of her father. She had allowed him to do so, despite her suspicion that her father had actually been killed by Flann in the confusion of battle.
      “I give you Conlaed uí Chennselaigh of Ardsallagh, and Brigit nic Máel Sechnaill,” Flann shouted over the roar of the hall, which dimmed only a bit with his calling for the toast, “who I this day had the honor of giving away as bride!”
      You’d like to give me away, wouldn’t you, you traitorous bastard , Brigit thought as she smiled down at the several hundred or so drunken revelers. Like to give me to the devil, I shouldn’t doubt. But now was the time for unity, or the appearance of it, until Brigit was ready to make her move.
      A cheer rose up from the crowd in the hall, shouting, thumping of fists and cups on the table. With all the drink that had gone down their throats they would have cheered one of the ubiquitous hounds defecating on the floor. “May the happy couple live long, fruitful and joyous lives!” Flann concluded.
      And may they rule with wisdom over Tara and the Three Kingdoms, Brigit added silently, certain that Flann would add no sentiment of that kind. Flann raised his goblet, the others in the hall did as well, and they drank deep. And that was all Brigit could endure. She turned to Conlaed to make her excuses when another voice filled the hall. Now it was Father Finnian standing, still dressed in the white vestments he had worn while performing the sacrament of marriage. Finnian had been asked to sit at the head table while his fellow brothers sat elbow to elbow with the rí túaithe, sharing with them their enthusiasm for food and drink.
      Now he was standing, arms raised. “A blessing on the couple!” he called, and this time the noise in the great hall quickly tapered off to just a few voices, until those people caught on that they were the only ones still causing a ruckus and so dropped off into an embarrassed silence.
      “May the blessings of the Holy Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, shine down on this couple, and may their union be a means by which the Most High brings peace to our troubled land. May their union be fruitful, and may their spirits, united with our Lord Jesus, calm the troubled waters of Tara and the Three Kingdoms and bring everlasting peace and unity to our land.” His voice was clear and loud, his tone both subservient and commanding, a neat trick. Throughout the hall the rí túaithe muttered their “amen”s with an enthusiasm, or lack thereof, that was in proportion to their loyalty to Flann mac Conaing.
      Morrigan will not care for that blessing , Brigit thought. She looked around the room. Morrigan had been at the head table, by her brother, but now she was gone.
      Morrigan. She was the one, Brigit suspected, who was the ambition behind Flann. For years Flann mac Conaing had served her father loyally and well, while Morrigan had suffered in unimaginable ways at the hands of the dubh gall . Now she seemed eager to make up for those years. She had seen a path to power, and to the wealth of Tara, and she had eagerly pursued it, and she had taken her brother along with her. Like Brigit, she needed a man to be the