Curse of the gods warrio.., p.1
Curse of the Gods (Warrior of the Isles Book 1), page 1
Curse of the Gods
Warrior of the Isles Book One
R. L. McIntyre
This is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, and all characters with the exception of some historical, mythical, religious, and public figures, are the
products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Where real-life historical, mythical, religious, or public figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the fictional nature of the work. This work of fiction is in no part a composition of real-life cultural practices by the Irish or Scottish. In all other respects resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Curse of the Gods
Copyright © 2021 R. L. McIntyre
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
ISBN:
978-1-7365182-5-0 (paperback edition)
ISBN:
978-1-7365182-6-7 (hardcover edition)
To my Eion
My forever family
Contents
1. Seanait
2. Cillian
3. Seanait
4. Cillian
5. Seanait
6. Cillian
7. Seanait
8. Cillian
9. Seanait
10. Cillian
11. Seanait
12. Cillian
13. Seanait
14. Cillian
15. Seanait
16. Cillian
17. Seanait
18. Cillian
19. Seanait
20. Cillian
21. Seanait
22. Cillian
23. Seanait
24. Cillian
25. Seanait
Afterword
Thank You
Also By
1
Seanait
Nothing was free. No matter how many years I devoted to my training there would always be more—more sweat and blood offered to the Gods in tribute for a destiny I didn’t want. They were unquenchable in their demands. Be as strong as the God Lugh; be as wise as the Goddess Cailleach; be as merciless as the God Neit; be a force of fate like the Goddess Morrigan. Every God wanted a piece of me, and each had a claim.
Chosen. Gifted. Blessed. There were so many names for my destiny, but none of them fit. None could encompass the throbbing hole in my life where friendships and family belonged. Gods and destiny could not replace those. It wasn’t a blessing, it was a curse placed on a child. A child who hadn’t had time to learn what such a destiny meant.
The hollowness in my chest never left me. It stuck to me like my shadow, following me wherever I went. The weightlessness of the ocean around me reminded me that I was drifting in my life. A mutt on a leash led by the Gods.
“Seanait?” my favorite voice called to me. I bobbed above the waves of the ocean. The dark hair of my best friend glistened in the morning light. “Are you alright?”
His dark doe-like eyes locked with mine. A smile began to creep over my lips but a raven cawed, flying overhead before settling onto a tree branch on the beach. I scowled under the bird’s watchful gaze. I did not need the Gods to watch my progress. A handful of Gods and Goddesses could take the form of the shadowy avian. No matter who watched, I knew the God would impose further demands on my life. Eion followed my eyes.
“They won’t be able to see us underwater,” he said. A half-truth, but it was one of the reasons I enjoyed underwater training. Lier, God of the Sea would be watching but he was usually a silent witness. He said little but the sway of waves spoke for him. They were mellow for now, like the steady beat of a drum, preceding the tension of battle ahead.
“Come on.” Eion gave a wry grin that taunted me, before taking a breath and disappearing under the water’s surface. I took a deep breath of the salted air, feeling the edges of my own smile rise.
The game was about to begin.
Holding my breath, I dropped into the water, my sword in hand. The silence overwhelmed me, blocking out every sound of the world above. It both steadied me and frightened me. My thoughts could be as deadly as a blade. They could twist around me like a noose and I would be at their mercy. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the low light, but the sheen of a blade caught my attention. The power in my veins heated, warning of the danger before I recognized it.
I twisted away from Eion’s blade. The sharpened edge sliced inches from my skin. My scowl grew deeper. I was slower than I wanted. The pull of the water’s currents restricted me. Embraced me like the smothering mother I didn’t have. No, my parents had abandoned me. The anger pulled at my cursed gift, but I settled it back down. The chains that held my power back were still in place.
My muscles fought through the water. Eion’s blade extended towards me and I moved my blade to catch his. Our blades collided and I watched the tension in Eion’s muscles grow. Bubbles from the meeting of swords rose to the surface.
A smirk flitted across my lips as Eion glared, drawing a laugh that caught in my throat as I looked at my best friend. I could hear his voice in my head scolding me for letting my gift aid me, but there were times I couldn’t stop it. Eion knew. He playfully shook his head, melting the tension in my eyes. He slashed at me again and I bolted back, smiling.
Almost seven years ago, I had been deposited on his mother’s island because of my gift from the Gods. I had been scared, and homesick as I’d stepped foot into a world full of training. Eion had met me at the boat with a cherry-filled pastry and a hug. His hug had been the first sense of home I knew. In every way that mattered, Eion and his mother Scathach were my family. The Fortress of Shadows was my home.
Eion swam backward, drawing my attention. Giving space? With swords as short as ours there was little sense in it. His reach would suffer. He eyed me, waiting for an attack. He had a plan and I would test it.
I felt the water’s movement. The gentle sway of the waves above a constant song. I bided my time and on the flow of the next wave, I swam into its power. It propelled me towards Eion. I pointed my blade at him while Eion floated, waiting. He timed his defense, and at the precise moment, he cut through the water knocking my blade down. It was perfectly executed except it opened Eion’s chest and I threw a punch with my left. The blow forced a breath from his lungs. We watched the air bubbles rise to the surface and escape like sands of time. The oppressive feel of a glare struck us, coming from the bottom of the ocean floor.
We both turned to look at the form of our teacher. Scathach, the great warrior and trainer of legends, sat cross-legged on the ocean floor, watching. Her lungs were too terrified of her ire to dare ask for air. She sat holding her breath, still as a statue from the garden of the fortress. Her weapon stood upright in the sand in front of her. The black shaft of the barbed harpoon known as the Gae Bolg matched her hair. The same hair she had passed down to Eion.
Next to her sat today’s spectators, three siren warriors sent to inspect my progress in underwater combat. They had no bearings on my destiny in the land above, but they were friends of Scathach. And they were as intimidating to look at as Scathach. The two women sirens sat next to each other, their dark hair cascading around them, framing their beautiful faces. Their armor clung tight to their curves while fins trailed their backs, matching their emerald tails. Their tails flicked in annoyance while the male siren crossed his arms over his chest. He glared at me, his lips rising for a moment to reveal his pointed teeth beneath. I was not impressing them... again.
Scowling, Scathach settled her eyes on our weapons. A silent sign for us to continue. She looked up; a pointed glare landed on Eion. I could tell from the way his face dropped, he felt it like a blade to the heart. Scathach drilled into us one constant above all else: control. Control of every muscle, of every breath, and especially the release of air underwater. My great attack was Eion’s failure.
Eion looked back at me with a steely determination. He swam forwards, attacking with a thrust followed by a twist of the blade. Underwater, the drag on weapons prevented quick movements, but at the same time, the water allowed for other planes of battle. There were always advantages if you could find them.
Eion swam under me. Before I could react, he grabbed my ankle, and dragged me deeper towards the ocean floor. At first, I prepared to strike his hand but decided otherwise. The alluring grains of sand gave me an idea. I could gain leverage off the ocean floor.
The moment Eion released to attack, I bent low, my feet steady on the sand. I dodged his thrust and pushed off the ground into him. Sand stirred in the water as I elbowed him and snatched his tunic before holding my blade to his throat.
Eion’s eyes widened. I won. I smirked and looked towards Scathach. The woman nodded, her shoulders sagging, not impressed by the battle. She looked to the sirens who shook their heads before swimming off into the endless ocean. My heart dropped watching them disappear into the sea.
Still, it was not enough. Nearly seven years of training and I couldn’t impress Sirens, let alone the Gods. I released Eion and we swam to the surface.
His voice was crisp like the crunch of dead leaves, but his eyes showed his weariness. “Well, if she decided not to kill me earlier, she will now,” Ei
“We’ll die together.” I released a heavy breath. I hated feeling like a failure. “No matter how hard I try there is no way to impress any of them.”
Eion’s dark eyes met my green orbs. “Maybe you are focused on the wrong thing. Maybe they are not here to be impressed but to witness. Or my mother is using it as another trial. Perhaps she wants you to focus.”
I snorted. “If she is trying to meddle with my mind, she has. What happened with you? You made two huge mistakes. It is unlike you.”
Eion’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, but wasn’t it you who convinced me to raid the kitchen this morning and steal cherry tarts?”
“I don’t think it took much convincing,” I chuckled. Eion splashed me, the water dripping off my brow. I released a screech before splashing him back. A warmth filled my chest as we battled to splash one another. Our laughter rose above the waves like a serenade of gulls. We were blood-siblings even if we didn’t share the same parents. Where I went, he went, and vice versa. We traded secrets between us like strands of fate, pulling us closer and closer to the other in the hopes of never being separated. Gods be damned, I would always be at Eion’s side.
Watching the carefree expression on Eion’s face, I envied him. Even as different as he was, with a smaller frame than most men, he was still considered strong. He was still accepted as a child of Scathach and given a family, a home. Something I could never have. I had a Godsgift given by the pantheon. A riastrad of great strength that chained me to the Gods as their prophetic puppet.
A form rose from the depths of the ocean, drawing our attention. Scathach floated, her black hair dripping with water and her pale face cast in shadows. It made her almost look like a banshee. Her harsh voice cut above the waves, warning of the trouble we were in.
“You are out here to train, not to play like children. After a performance like that, both of you should be begging me to continue your training and not cast you out onto Caledonia.” I knew her words were idle threats. She would never abandon us, but I could see the disappointment in her eyes. We failed… again.
“I’m sorry,” I sighed, dropping my head.
Eion puffed out his chest to speak but Scathach held up her finger at him.
“Do not utter a word, Eion, or I will have you cleaning the chamber pots for a full moon cycle,” she warned. Eion’s cheeks deflated as he lowered himself further into the water, hiding behind the waves. Scathach turned back to me and gently placed her finger under my chin, lifting it.
I closed my eyes, not wanting to see any more disappointment. “Scathach I am trying. I—”
“Look at me.” Her stern voice opened my eyes as if she had spoken a spell aloud. I was more terrified of her anger than what else I might see. “You are a warrior of the Gods. You were gifted a riastrad and yet you doubt your every move. I can see it in the way you fight. There is hesitation. In war, you cannot lose even that fraction of a second.”
“I understand.”
She smiled, her face softening. “The two of you can get changed and warm up by the fire. We’ll practice pole vaulting tonight.”
I grinned. Pole vaulting was my favorite. Scathach was trying to raise my spirits. As hard a teacher as she was, there was another side to her. The side of her that was as soft as freshly sheared wool. It was rare we experienced it, but it was there whenever we needed it most.
My first moon cycle I had spent the entire night in pain. Scathach had sat with me on her lap by the fire. She had combed through my tattered curls and braided my hair as I nestled into the lamb blanket around me. Eion had laid next to us on the floor where he fell asleep between the gray faced hound, Old Bess, and us. I had never felt more safe or cared for than that night. That cold winter’s night, in Scathach’s warm embrace, I had been ushered into the world of womanhood, and all the pain that came with it.
“Pole vaulting,” Eion scowled. It was by no means his favorite skill. He preferred his feet firmly on the ground. But for me the feel of the wind in my hair always helped to calm my nerves. Perhaps it was the mothering feeling of the Goddess Danu in the wind or maybe it was feeling free for a few moments. Flinging myself into the air by my own volition and catching myself on the crooked stone of a wall, before scaling it to the top. It made me feel strong.
Scathach turned to Eion, prepared to scold him again, when a loud screech echoed in the air. We turned towards the sound, apprehension filling my lungs. I heard the sound many times before. The Serpent of Shadow Bay was a constant blight over the fortress. Every few weeks it reappeared chasing smaller prey into the bay and attacking anything that got in its way. As a child, I witnessed it biting through small ships and using its massive tail to wrap around others to drag them to the ocean floor. Scathach fought the beast often. The creature bore the scars of their battles as much as Scathach. The crooked scar on her arm was a constant reminder of her failure to kill it.
The golden eyes of the creature crested over the water’s edge locking onto our presence. Scathach glared at the creature as it slithered back under the surface.
I edged in front of Scathach, but her steady hand shoved me back.
“Get to shore.” She dove under the waves to retrieve her Gae Bolg, still sitting in the sand of the ocean floor. I looked out over the surface of the water for another sign of the serpent as it drew closer. Eion’s hand gripped my arm but I wrenched free, diving under.
Scathach pulled her weapon from the sand and swam towards the dark shadows of the ocean. Looking into the darkness, I could not see the creature. The power in my veins warmed me, warning it was getting closer. Scathach hovered, watching the shadows for a sign.
Eion squeezed my arm trying to usher me back to shore but I shrugged his hand off. I was not running this time. I was supposed to be a prophetic warrior and I had yet to prove myself. If I could find a way to do it here, then in a few months when I turned seventeen and began my journey to save Ulster, I would feel ready. I would feel capable of being the hero everyone wanted me to be. I looked to Eion and he gritted his teeth giving me a swift nod. He unsheathed the blade from his side, holding it in front of him. I pulled my own, mirroring him. Whatever was to come, we would face it together.
From the darkness, two yellow orbs peered out at us. They locked on Scathach and the creature opened its mouth, the large pearly teeth shining out against the shadows. Scathach held her Gae Bolg at her side and began swimming towards the creature. She swam much like a siren, flicking her feet behind her in a gentle curve that matched the waves cresting above.
The light illuminated the large head of the creature as it neared. The deep bluish green of its scales perfectly matched the water around it. Several scales were missing around its eye in a line that revealed grey blubber underneath. A scar from Scathach. It slithered closer, its body curving from side to side like a snake as it charged.
The beast loomed. Its head dwarfed Scathach by at least ten feet and still Scathach charged. My pulse quickened waiting for the inevitable collision. I could not imagine how she managed such a steady ease when attacking a beast many times stronger than her. Watching her, I could see how every lesson she ever gave me could be used in battle and I doubted I would ever possess the same strength as her. Perhaps she was right.
I wasn’t ready.
The serpent opened its mouth—the cave of sharpened death was ready for its next meal. Scathach swung her Gae Bolg. It connected with the side of its head, the blow noticeably stunning the creature as it shook its head and slowed. Scathach thrust the harpoon edge forwards, sinking it between the serpent’s scales. The beast thrashed, the massive tail swung and struck Scathach, knocking her back. The serpent’s nostrils flared as it looked from Scathach to us. The glow of its massive eyes warned of the attack to come.
My heart dropped into my stomach. I wrapped my fingers tighter around my blade, stealing a look at Eion. He glared at the creature. I stared at the teeth charging closer. They were easily the size of a dagger or maybe a short sword. The heat in my veins grew hotter. My riastrad, a warrior’s rage, broke free from the chains I used to hold it back. My muscles tensed. My eyes glowed a deep emerald and my hair lit with fire even underwater. The riastrad consumed me, and I let it. No more hesitation. I would act on instinct and let the Gods’ power guide me.
