Page 7 of Queen of the Shadow

“Will you vault for me, my daughter?” Scáthach asked. Though she spoke softly, every warrior at the water barrel had turned to watch and listen.

Uathach blinked in surprise. “Vault over what?”

Scáthach jerked her chin in the direction of the sand pit. “Over nothing. The same as your students. Just show me and your students a successful vault feat.”

She met her mother’s gaze, opened her mouth to protest, and quickly closed it. Scáthach and the warriors watched as Uathach warmed up, stretching thoroughly and then going through a series of leg swing, skips, and jumps. When her muscles were warm and limber, she strode to pick up the pole the previous warrior had left staked to the ground. Holding the pole, she walked several yards away from the rectangle of sand, turned, grasped the pole with a wide grip, and sprinted strongly for the pit. She planted the staked end of the pole in the X spot. Her body lifted fluidly, hands positioned perfectly, long legs going up and above her head until she turned at the apex of the arch, so high above the ground that she could have easily vaulted over the wall of a keep, and then descended gracefully back to the pit.

Scáthach nodded as her daughter returned to her side, wiping sand from her backside. “Well done. And now they have seen a successful vault feat.”

“But none of them have done it.”

“Then begin again with them. Teach them attheirpace, not yours. Remember that they are not grandchildren of a mighty goddess. Start with a simple two-step and small leap drill, and then increase to four steps and a larger leap. Drill that over and over until each of them masters the beginning steps; then they will remember what success feels like. Look at them.”

Uathach’s gaze went to the group of warriors—ten women and nine men—who had come from as close as Tribe Creones on the mainland and as distant as Scythia, from where the leader of Scáthach’s Shadow Guard, Tabiti, hailed. Uathach took in their bowed shoulders and weary faces and blew out a long, frustrated breath. “They are defeating themselves.”

“And you expect them to fail.” Scáthach spoke those words so only her daughter could hear them.

“I expect them to fail,” Uathach agreed quietly. She met her mother’s gaze. “You are a better teacher than I.”

“I have taught longer than you.” Scáthach squeezed her daughter’s shoulder. “Work with them one on one. While you do that, I will take the group through the same warm-up exercises you just completed.”

“Do you never lose your patience?” asked her daughter.

“Life has taught me that when I lack patience I pay for that lack with failure.”

Uathach flashed a smile. “Fail? You? I don’t recall you ever failing.”

“Because I do not lack patience.” Scáthach returned her smile.

Uathach nodded and then turned to face the group of student warriors. “Fergal!”

The warrior with the flaming red beard who had just failed in his vault stepped forward and bowed his head formally to Uathach and Scáthach.

“Come, you and I will go over your hand position and the two-step leap. You were close to getting it,” Uathach said. The warrior’s face brightened as he jogged over to her. Uathach told the rest of the group, “And you will drill with Scáthach while waiting to repeat your vault.”

Scáthach clapped her hands together. “Let’s drill!” The students responded instantly and enthusiastically. They reminded the Queen of Shadow of Leannan when she was a pup and her excitement to please outweighed her nascent abilities. As she drilled with the students, Scáthach focused on the thrill of the strength of her body—its grace and balance and power—and how through example she could bolster the confidence of her students. She was in her element, leading young warriors to be their best. Her joyful laughter boomed throughout the inner ward of the castle to brush against the stone walls, absorbed into the carvings that covered them, and filled the very walls of Dunscáith with the wild joy of Scáthach, Queen of Shadow.

* * *

They drilled until the sun began to drop into the western sea. Wisely, Uathach called a halt after every student had successfully completed the simple two-step opening leap. The mood of the group had utterly changed. They were all sweaty and muscle-weary but grinning and jesting with one another as they left the practice field and headed to the rear tunnel where they would cool themselves in the sea.

“Everything changed when you showed up,” Uathach said as she joined her mother at the big barrel that held fresh rainwater.

Scáthach motioned for her daughter to wash first and said, “I only reminded you of what you already knew. It’s easy to allow struggling students to frustrate you, and when a teacher is frustrated, students feel it and respond poorly. The longer you teach, the less that will happen.”

Uathach splashed water on her face and arms and then stepped aside to allow her mother access to the barrel. “Why do you suddenly sound like I will be taking over for you here? You said you were going to refuse the crown of Lethra.”

Scáthach went to the barrel and looked over her shoulder at her daughter. “I have no desire to rule Lethra, and I thought you enjoyed training warriors.”

“I do, but I am not Queen of Shadow.”

“That is just a title. I don’t own it,” said Scáthach as she looked into the barrel of dark water.

“Don’t own it? Youareit. The title wouldn’t exist without you,” insisted Uathach.

“No, the title wouldn’t exist without this castle, which was created by a goddess and not by me. I stepped into the title. It belongs to Dunscáith.” Scáthach bent and plunged her hands into the cool water—and the world stilled.

She knew Uathach was speaking to her, but Scáthach could not hear her words. Scáthach knew her faithful deerhound had trotted to her and was leaning against her side, begging for her ears to be scratched, but she could not feel the dog’s body.