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A wedding turning into a battle, a feast converted to a slaughter, a Viking band on the run.
Julia stood barefoot in the mud in front of the doors of the great hall in Dubh Linn. Through the thin veil that covered her face, she could see Princess Ailbi shivering in the cold spring air. It would soon be warm enough.
The doors opened slowly inwards by somebody not visible from the outside. Torches fluttered in the gloom inside, and between light and shadows there were figures. Unmoving, waiti...