Rebel Warrior (Medieval Warriors #3)

by Regan Walker

  Niall dropped from the prow and came around the side to grab the boy from his perch.

  Steinar and Angus fought on, managing to hold off the three Northmen. It took all of Steinar’s strength to keep Ivar at bay, slicing his sword through the air in rapid strikes while dancing to avoid the Northman’s skilled blade.

  An arrow flew through the air, piercing the chest of Husky, sending him to the deck.

  “ ’Tis three,” came Niall’s cry.

  “This one,” Steinar said, his tone full of scorn as his eyes narrowed on Ivar raising his sword, “is mine.” Blocking the sword’s blow with his own sword, he sent up a furious attack that backed the dark Northman to the side of the ship.

  “And this one is mine!” yelled Angus as he swung his powerful sword at the man he fought. “Fer my lord, Cormac!” he shouted, cutting off the man’s head in one powerful stroke. The Northman’s body crashed to the deck, his head rolling to hit the side of the longship.

  Steinar sheathed his short blade and gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands. “Now ’tis only you that remains,” he said to Ivar, disdain dripping from his words. Faster than the Northman could follow with his eyes, Steinar sliced across Ivar’s chest, leaving a long line oozing forth blood.

  Ivar looked down at the widening streak of red, stunned.

  Mayhap he has never been wounded. A weakness Steinar did not have, for he was not afraid to take a blade. With all his strength, he swung and caught Ivar across the throat just as the Northman looked up.

  * * *

  Relieved the last of the Northmen had been dispatched to Hades, Catrìona leapt over the side of the ship and ran to Steinar, flinging herself into his arms and kissing him with wild abandon.

  “Oh, Steinar!”

  From behind her, Angus coughed. She turned to see her guard standing there with a disapproving look and blood coating his tunic.

  A movement at the prow drew her eyes to where Niall stood with Giric, smiles on both their faces.

  Realizing she had become a spectacle, she stepped back.

  “I see,” said Colbán.

  At his words, she turned to see him sitting against the hull, blood dripping from his shoulder. Guilt gripped her as she remembered the king’s captain had taken a blade. Rushing to him, she kneeled at his side. “Oh, sir, you are wounded.”

  “Most grievously, madam,” he said sarcastically. She wondered if he referred to his shoulder or seeing her display of affection for Steinar. “But the wound will keep,” he said. “ ’Tis time we return to the king.” Colbán struggled to rise. Angus came to help him to his feet. “Malcolm will be sorry to have missed this,” said the king’s captain. “He does love a good fight.”

  Colbán sagged in Angus’ arms and Steinar rushed to support the captain’s other side.

  “Mind the rocks Giric has left on the deck,” said Niall with a smirk in the boy’s direction. Then, more seriously, he added, “They will make it hard going.”

  Her brother offered to go to the tower to bring horses and a cart. Steinar agreed it would be better that Colbán not have to walk the distance.

  Catrìona’s suggestion she ride in the cart with Colbán was accepted.

  When the cart arrived, she climbed in to sit beside the wounded captain, pressing a cloth to his shoulder to staunch the bleeding. Deidre joined her. Steinar and Angus rode on either side of the cart and Niall behind.

  The king’s captain dozed while Deidre told Catrìona of the last year the handmaiden had endured with the Northman named Ivar. “We did not go at once to Orkney,” she began. “The Northman, Ivar, made other ports as he plundered his way north. At some, he unloaded men and all the women, save me.”

  “Why did he keep you?”

  “Oh, mistress. You saved me, you did. He thought I was you!” At Catrìona’s puzzled expression, Deidre said, “Remember, I wore your gown. When the attack came, I was alone in your chamber, packing your things. ’Twas from there I was taken. Ivar could speak Gaelic as some of his men, that is how I learned he meant to ransom me, but then he changed his mind. I heard him tell one of his men he was going to take me with him to Norway. If you had not rescued me from his ship, I might never have seen you again!”

  Catrìona reached out to grasp Deidre’s hand. “I never gave up hope. I never stopped praying you would be found.” She could not see her maidservant’s blue eyes but she heard the quiver in her voice. Relief flooded her and she thanked God for bringing Deidre back to her.

  It was dark when they arrived back at the tower. Much confusion and many questions awaited them but all was delayed when the king saw his wounded captain.

  “Summon my physic at once!” Malcolm yelled to his steward.

  With Margaret’s permission and feeling responsible in some measure for what had happened to the bold captain, Catrìona followed the men carrying Colbán to his chamber high in the tower, leaving Steinar and the others to answer the king’s questions.

  Audra, her eyes anxious with fear, hurried up the stairs behind Catrìona, saying she might be of assistance to the physic. Remembering the love Catrìona had seen in the eyes of Duff’s daughter for the king’s captain, she wholeheartedly agreed, urging Audra to come.

  Colbán was awake when the physic cleaned and stitched his wound, bearing the pain uncomplaining. The king’s captain said little, but his eyes followed Catrìona as she helped the physic, handing him the things he requested from his pouch of medicines. The bear of a man lay back against the pillows, his muscled chest bared for the physic’s ministrations.

  When the wound was stitched, Catrìona asked a servant to request the Culdee monk, who served in the chapel, to make a plaster for the wound. She had observed his well-kept herb garden and perceived he was knowledgeable in potions. The plaster the woman returned with smelled of mint but the servant told her it also contained yarrow.

  “He said ’twill help the wound heal, my lady.”

  Catrìona thanked her and when the physic was finished, with Audra watching, she applied the plaster to the wound herself.

  Colbán gave her a small smile. “ ’Tis probably good the scribe was not wounded or I would see little of your care this night.”

  “You have one better than I, good captain.” She looked toward Audra who had been attentive to Colbán’s every move. “Audra has taught me much and her heart is ever sympathetic to those in need, which you are, at least tonight. You have my thanks for aiding my guard and my brother.”

  When the physic had gone, Colbán finally succumbed to sleep and Catrìona got to her feet, wanting to wash and change her bloodstained clothing before meeting her mistress.

  While Colbán was awake, Audra had kept a discreet distance, sitting by his bedside. Now that he slept, she took his hand and held it between hers in a gesture, which, to Catrìona, spoke of more than just concern.

  Tears began to fall from Audra’s eyes as she glanced up at Catrìona. “I will stay with him.”

  Seeing the love in the woman’s eyes, Catrìona nodded, knowing that when she returned in the morning to check on the captain, Audra would still be here. “I will bring you some willow bark tea to give him for pain and a potion for sleep should he not be able to rest the night.” Then, thinking of her fellow lady, she added, “And some food for you.”

  Audra gave her a faint smile. “Thank you.”

  Catrìona placed her hand on Audra’s shoulder in comfort. “He fought bravely. You can be proud of him.”

  Tears flowing unheeded, Audra said in a whisper, “I am always proud of him.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Catrìona was aware that much happened after the battle on the Northman’s longship, but because she had been tending to Colbán, she had been spared the questions of the king and the Orkney jarls. But once she had changed, she went to see the queen, knowing she owed Margaret an explanation.

  The queen was mild in her scolding. “You should have come to me, Catrìona, but I can understand your desire to save your maidservant
. ’Tis clear that God was protecting you and for that I am most grateful.”

  The queen was right, of course. To rescue Deidre had been an impulsive act, but she had not trusted Ivar to be honest, even with the king. She regretted Colbán’s wound, but she was not sorry for having gone after Deidre, who was now to share the chamber with her and Fia.

  The next morning, Steinar assured her that he and Angus had answered all to the king’s and the jarls’ satisfaction. “Truth be told,” he said when they broke their fast, “I believe Paul and Erlend were embarrassed to have one such as Ivar living in their midst, hiding his perfidy behind their hospitality. They made excuses for not having spent much time with Ivar. It seems he was gone much of the time and now they know why.”

  During that day, Colbán remained abed and Duff, still recovering from his own wound, rarely moved from his chamber. When Audra was not with Colbán, she was seeing to her father, running between the two. Catrìona worried for the lady’s well-being and frequently checked on her, offering help where needed.

  Often, when Catrìona came to see the king’s captain, he would be protesting his confinement. “I should be on the practice field with my men!” Catrìona was unsurprised. Such a man, used to being outside, commanding his warriors, would rebel at having to remain abed.

  Both she and Audra ignored his complaining.

  The next day, Catrìona came to check on Colbán’s progress. When she approached his chamber, she found the door ajar.

  His voice boomed in command. “Leave me, woman, I am nearly well!”

  Audra’s soft voice drifted to the corridor. “I will not leave you, my lord.”

  Catrìona peered through the small opening to see Audra handing the captain a wooden cup. “ ’Tis something that will ease the pain.”

  To Catrìona’s surprise, the gruff warrior took it and drank, but afterward said, “I would rather have the king’s wine or even the ale we are sometimes served. This has a bitter taste and does little to improve a man’s spirits.”

  Catrìona silently chuckled. The bear growls.

  Audra’s words in response were murmured. “I will see you have all you desire, my lord.”

  Colbán’s dark eyes searched Audra’s face. “You are very kind, putting up with my many grumblings. Do you forget from whence I come, madam?”

  Catrìona could not see Audra’s face, but she heard the sincerity in the lady’s voice as she gently protested. “Oh, no, my lord. I am well aware you are from Moray. But if you knew how high is my regard for you, you would not doubt my desire to see you hale once again. Why, I think you are the most courageous, honorable and true of all who serve the king.”

  Colbán drew his head back and studied Audra for a moment, his brows drawn together. “Would your father think the same, my lady?”

  “Aye, my lord. I know he does.”

  Catrìona smiled to herself and turned to tiptoe away. After that, she no longer worried for the king’s captain and came not again to see how he fared.

  * * *

  A few days after Deidre’s rescue, to Catrìona’s delight, her uncle, Fia’s father, arrived at the tower. He was glad to see his daughter and niece, but they had only begun to speak with him when the king swept the mormaer away, calling for wine and telling the steward they must not be disturbed.

  Catrìona and Fia looked at each other and shrugged. They would see Matad at the evening meal.

  That same day, Domnall returned to Dunfermline with the news that Isla of Blackwell’s father had consented to his suit. Catrìona had hoped he and Isla would already be gone before she returned from St. Andrews, but she had not been so fortunate and now all the ladies were forced to listen to Isla’s wedding plans.

  It was early afternoon when Catrìona finished the blue tunic she had been stitching for Steinar. She held it up to the light from the window in her chamber, admiring the silver and gold stitching that had taken her many hours of laborious effort. Behind her, Fia and Deidre happily sorted through gowns the queen’s sister thought might fit the handmaiden.

  Carefully folding the tunic and placing it in her chest, Catrìona told the two women she would return shortly. ’Twas August and Kessog should be coming out of his molt. She would find Giric and they could pay the falcon a visit.

  She entered the hall to see Steinar standing near the hearth fire.

  He waved and she went to join him, but before she could speak, the king summoned him. “Scribe, I would have you read this missive the Irishman has brought me from the Mormaer of Blackwell.”

  She waited by the hearth fire as the two men spoke, hoping to learn of the message’s contents. Steinar must have realized her intent. When he finished with the king, he came to her.

  “ ’Tis done,” he said. “Blackwell comes in two days’ time and they will marry in the chapel. Then presumably, both will leave Dunfermline, hopefully not to be seen again.”

  Catrìona sighed in relief and not just for herself. All of the queen’s ladies would be glad to see Isla go. She thanked Steinar and told him she was off to find Giric. As she was about to invite him to come with her, the king called Steinar back for a word.

  “I will find you later,” he said and returned to the king.

  Slipping through the tower door, Catrìona considered where she might find the boy. He sometimes watched Angus at sword practice, or he might be at the archery field where Rhodri put the archers through their paces. But more often, she could find Giric and his dog, Shadow, in the village at this time of day. She decided to go to the village since she wanted to see the changes that had been made to the orphans’ cottage. Then she would find the boy, wherever he was, and they could visit Kessog together.

  She walked past the stables with only pleasant thoughts in her mind. She had received justice for the death of her parents, Colbán had finally seen Audra’s true affection and, soon, the man who betrayed her for another would be gone.

  As she strolled along, she did not pay much attention to the few people coming and going, except to return a smile of greeting. Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into the shadows.

  “Domnall!” she cried out when she recognized who it was. “What can you mean by this?” She yanked back her arm, but he held it fast. “Unhand me!”

  He moved closer, his face inches from hers. “Nay, not until you hear me out.”

  He smelled of some scent and the shoulders of his tunic were richly embroidered with flowers. It was as he had always been but now she found his flowery scent and his embellished tunic disgusted her.

  Heart pounding in her chest, she spit out, “Say it then and be gone!”

  He lifted his finger to her jaw and slowly slid it to her chin. She stiffened at the unwanted touch. “I have always found you a seductive woman, Catrìona. It was not for lack of interest I gave you up for Isla, you know.”

  “That is no concern of mine now, Domnall. You have your betrothed. See to her and leave me alone.”

  “Nay, I would still have you in my bed. You could not be my wife, but you could be my mistress. What say you?”

  She huffed out a laugh. “Surely you jest!”

  He looked at her, affronted. “I am most serious. You have no dowry to speak of and no rich trade to offer as you once did.”

  “If I did not come to your bed when I was your intended, do you think I would do so now when you have spurned me? You are beyond contemptible!”

  Without warning, he dropped her hand and drove his chest into her, forcing her against the side of the stable, the rough boards bruising the tender flesh of her back. “I will have you, as I always wanted.” Without pretense of gentleness, his mouth came down hard upon hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth.

  She pushed against his chest with her hands but she could not move him. With one foot, she kicked at his shin as hard as her shoe allowed in the tight space.

  Raising his mouth from her abused lips, he said, “I always did like your fire.”

  A hiss of steel wa
s followed by the flash of metal as a sword tip slid before her eyes to hover next to Domnall’s cheek. “Take your hands from her or I shall scar you for life, you dishonorable cur.”

  Steinar! Her chest heaving, she turned to look into his beautiful eyes, relief washing over her.

  “Has he harmed you, little one?”

  She pressed her lips together trying to hold back the tears filling her eyes. “I am fine.”

  Domnall backed away from the sword but the blade followed to remain close to his face. “What business is this of yours, Scribe?”

  “You, a man betrothed, would force yourself on one of the queen’s ladies? Get you gone, Domnall. See to your own lady!” In a tone of disgust, Steinar added, “I wish you well of her.”

  Domnall glanced again at the blade, barely a breath from his eye, and fled.

  Steinar sheathed his sword and pulled Catrìona into his arms. “ ’Tis over, little one. He is gone.”

  For a moment she was content to be held. Wiping the tears of relief from her eyes, she tilted her head up to look at him. “You saved me.”

  “Aye, lass, and I always will.”

  * * *

  Steinar did not speak the words to Domnall that had been in his heart. “She belongs to me!” he had wanted to shout. But how could he claim a lady the king intended for another?

  When the king had called him back for a word, it was to tell Steinar that he was still considering what lady he might give him for a wife and expected to make his choice soon. The conversation that followed left Steinar despairing of hope.

  “It will not be the redhead you asked for,” said Malcolm. “Still, I’ve a fine lady in mind.”

  “But Sir, ’tis Catrìona I love.”

  His face stern, the king shot back, “Love has little to do with raising sons to serve your king, but I will think on it.”

  Steinar believed it more likely the king would quickly dismiss Steinar’s plea from his mind. Thus, he had not claimed her before the despicable Domnall. But he could protect her and vow to always do so. And as long as a glimmer of hope remained, as long as she had yet to be betrothed, he would seek her company.