The Drowned Oath

The drowned boat came home without its men at the hour when the tide should have been going out. By then, Cara O’Dálaigh had learned to distrust every mercy that arrived clean. A boat returning was supposed to be a blessing. A small one, perhaps, compared with childbirth, harvest, fever breaking before dawn, or a husband’s hand finding yours beneath a table while men argued law around you as if women were furniture with opinions.

This title is part of Dúnmara Chronicles, Book 4.