The Children Of Gods And Fighting Men

992 AD. Gormflaith, widowed queen of Dublin (and secretly one of the magical race of Fomorians), takes drastic action to secure her ambitions for her son – and herself.

It was cold inside my squalid little house. I closed the door tight and wrapped myself up in my furs – the ones that Gluniairn’s wife hadn’t stolen before I returned from Iona – and held my hand over the kindling sitting in the firepit. A flame ran down my fingers and the kindling burst into flames. I didn’t need to light it for I never felt the cold. Mother told me it was our Fomorian blood that kept us warm. The rain and wind irked me as it did the mortals, but I did not shiver and wilt like them when the winter air blew in. Fire, though, oh, I loved the feeling of flames close to my skin. Smiling, I lay on the bed and lit a candle.

I should have been tired, and yet now a