Book details:
Book Title: Return to the Eyrie
Series: Medieval Hungary
Author: Katerina Dunne
Publication Date: 30 April 2024
Publisher: Historium Press
Page Length: 404
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Honour, revenge, and the quest for justice.
Belgrade, Kingdom of Hungary, 1470:
Raised in exile, adolescent noblewoman Margit Szilágyi dreams of returning to her homeland of Transylvania to avenge her father's murder and reclaim her stolen legacy. To achieve this, she must break the constraints of her gender and social status and secretly train in combat.
When the king offers her a chance at justice, she seizes it—even if it means disguising herself as a man to infiltrate the vultures' nest that now occupies her ancestral ‘eyrie’.
Plagued by childhood trauma and torn between two passionate loves, Margit faces brutal battles, her murderous kin's traps and inner demons on her quest for vengeance. Only by confronting the past can she reclaim her honour—if she can survive long enough to see it through.
Return to the Eyrie is an epic coming-of-age tale of a young woman's unwavering pursuit of justice and destiny in 15th century Hungary.
The familiarity of the forge’s smells and Ahmed’s voice brought some comfort to Margit’s heart. She drew the cloth-hanging to the side. “Let us go for train—”
At the sight of Adnan shaking his head in a panic, the words drowned in her throat.
Another man stood in the smithy. Although he had his back to her, Margit knew exactly who he was. Gasping, she staggered backwards.
The man turned around. His face flushed—from surprise or anger, she did not know. “Margit?”
She gulped. “Imre bácsi.”
His eyes narrowed, penetrating her like a fiery dagger. “What business do you have here?”
Ahmed lowered his head, and Adnan covered his mouth with both hands.
“You’re still friendly with them?” Imre’s voice clapped like thunder. “You disobeyed me?”
Margit shrank back, clutching the quiver against her chest.
The crackling sound of the furnace increased the tension.
Imre turned his ire to Ahmed. “How dare you?”
“I apologise, sir. But I assure you she’s been treated with respect.”
“And I assure you I’ll never give you my business again!”
Imre grabbed Margit by the hand and dragged her away.
Margit’s wrist throbbed. Tears burned her eyes, but she fought them back. She hung her head in shame as people paused in the streets to watch her being hauled along like some animal led to slaughter.
Once back at the house, Imre slammed the door behind them and shoved her into the living area.
“What are you doing?” Erzsi shrieked, rushing down the stairs.
Imre stayed her approach with an abrupt move of his arm. “Did you know about this?”
Erzsi’s face turned crimson. “About what?”
“That she still befriends the blacksmith and his son after I warned her not to? And that she trains to fight?”
Margit let her bow and quiver drop to the floor. Despite the searing pain in her chest, she would not let Erzsi suffer for this. “I am to blame, Imre bácsi. Godmother didn’t know.”
Imre whirled around. Never had Margit seen him like this: face redder than the forge’s furnace, eyebrows jumping up and down, his bearded jaw snapping like a wolf’s bite, spittle flying in all directions as he delivered his angry speech.
Margit averted her eyes and sank her teeth into her bottom lip. The throbbing sting, which came with the taste of blood, and her frustrated heart thudding in her ears blocked most of Imre’s voice; yet some of his words still got through: ‘shame’, ‘ungrateful child’, ‘fraternising with the infidel’, ‘disgrace to the family name’...
Then silence descended, disturbed only by Erzsi’s intermittent sobs.
“I’m sorry for what I have done,” Margit mumbled.
“You’ll be punished,” Imre boomed. “And as for this—” He snatched up the bow and drew his dagger.
Margit’s heart faltered. “No, Imre bácsi, I beg you!”
Alas, the man cut the string and then stepped on one end of the bow while pulling hard at the other. Unable to break it in this manner, he snorted and threw it into the blazing fire in the hearth, together with the arrows.
Margit lunged forward, desperate to save her only form of joy from the flames, but Imre seized her arm and flung her down to a stool beside Erzsi.
After some moments of angry silence, he exhaled sharply. “Forgive my harsh words and actions. But there’s a burden of responsibility that comes with noble birth.” He leaned close to Margit. “You can’t do as you wish. Do you understand that?”
Margit’s dream of freedom perished in the same fire which now devoured her beloved bow and arrows. Despite the tears stinging her eyes, she restrained herself. Her noble blood dictated that she would remain dignified and not show weakness in front of her father’s most trusted knight.
During the hours that followed, Margit lay motionless on her pallet. Her mind drifted into nothingness, away from the world around her. Erzsi’s knocking on the door, entering the chamber and talking to her felt like a soft murmur lost in the vastness of space.
But after her godmother retired to bed, the events of the day and her dreaded upcoming marriage rushed back and swirled in Margit’s head like a dizzying whirlpool until she could bear it no more. Her stomach churned. Bile rose and burned her chest. Her throat constricted as the invisible hand of her looming fate choked her.
I must not succumb. I must escape… Now.
Heart racing, Margit listened for Erzsi’s soft snoring. As she slipped out of bed, a loose floorboard creaked underfoot. She froze, straining to hear if Erzsi would stir. The woman mumbled and turned in her pallet. Paralyzed with dread, Margit breathed again only after her godmother’s snoring resumed. She tiptoed out of the chamber and closed the door with only a light click.
Downstairs, she donned her male clothing in the dark, silently cursing each fibre that refused to slide soundlessly over her limbs. At last dressed, she looped her father’s dagger and her coin pouch on her belt and stole out of the house. Holding her breath, she hung for every sound. A dog barked in the distance. Shuffling footsteps nearby made her back into the wall with a gasp.
When silence fell again, she entered the adjacent shed to find Csillag munching his fodder. He greeted her with his usual nuzzling her shoulder.
This affection momentarily drove away all despair. “Kedves Csillagom,” she murmured. “You and I shall have a great adventure.”
Katerina Dunne is the pen-name of Katerina Vavoulidou. Originally from Athens, Greece, Katerina has been living in Ireland since 1999. She has a degree in English Language and Literature from the University of Athens, an MA in Film Studies from University College Dublin and an MPhil in Medieval History from Trinity College Dublin.
Katerina is passionate about history, especially medieval history, and her main area of interest is 13th to 15th century Hungary. Although the main characters of her stories are fictional, Katerina uses real events and personalities as part of her narrative in order to bring to life the fascinating history of the medieval Kingdom of Hungary, a location and time period not so well-known to English-speaking readers.
Return to the Eyrie (published April 2024) is the second book in the Medieval Hungary series, a sequel to Lord of the Eyrie (published in February 2022).
Author Links:
Website (publisher): https://www.thehistoricalfictioncompany.com/hp-authors/katerina-dunne
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Katerina-Dunne/author/B09R4P733K
Tour hosted by: The Coffee Pot Book Club
Thank you for hosting Katerina Dunne today, with her thrilling novel, Return to the Eyrie.
Take care,
Cathie xx
The Coffee Pot Book Club