His mother had told him about the plan, and nae one other than he and his father were aware of its existence. One day when the twins were fully grown he would help them bring their part in it to fruition. That’s why Rowena, his mother, had been in agreement with Rob McArthur and his father that he learn to defend and protect himself. They all knew he was as large a part of the auld gods’ plan as the rest of them, Ralf, Harry and his other cousin Merida—the generation meant to take the plan on to another portion of time
Ghillie was well aware that he and his cousins would be long dead afore the final goal was reached. It didnae matter to him that his part would have been played centuries afore. It was prophesised one of their descendants would perform a deed that Scots folk would ne’er forget.
Truth to tell, at the moment what scared him most was knowing that one day he would be as lovesick as Rory and Calder. How else would he father an heir—male or female—to take his place in the ultimate plan?
Word had been sent throughout the settlement for every inhabitant to attend a meeting in the Great Hall of the Longhouse. The whole place hummed with voices, some curious, others strident enough to scrape the soot off the rafters above them. Rory, along with Finn, Ghillie and Calder, stood either side of Olaf’s huge carved chair, and he mused that in itself was enough to cause a stir since only Finn could claim to be Norse. He and Ghillie had enough blood connection to call Finn and Olaf cousin, but he knew from experience there was some whau would be ill disposed to taking advice frae them, which left the speaking up to Olaf and Finn.
Finally, when the Great Hall was filled near to bursting, Olaf raised both hands in a manner that demanded silence, and for those whau kept complaining, the warriors under Finn’s command put to an end any likely to give insult to the Jarl. Rory had a glimpse of Ainsel and her bairn close to the front and, like all the other bairns—lads and lassies of the settlement—none had been left behind.
At last Olaf rose shakily to his feet, fist wrapped about the grip of the stick the auld man went naewhere without. “Apart frae the men on watch, every single man woman and child is here today, and I’m sure only the youngest of ye are unaware of the threat that awaits us through the arrogance of one I had thought to call family. Aye, I speak of Nils, once married to my granddaughter Ainsel and father of my great-grandson. His death has done naught to appease those he offended. The pity of it is that he didnae die at my or Finn’s hands, and it’s to be hoped that the Valkyries wreak a terrible punishment on the man whau has put all our lives in danger.
“Alongside me ye might recognise Rory and Calder, whau visited the Ness last solstice and made lots of friends. To some of ye, they’re the men whau helped hone a few more skills with sword and shield yesterday. Both have agreed to stay and help us in our fight with the Irish. With Finn’s help, they have come up with a plan…”
Rory’s eyes scanned the Hall as a few unhappy murmurs interrupted Olaf. The auld Jarl simply waved them down. “I hear some of ye wonder why we need turn to strangers for help? To me they are family, distant members but family none the less. The aulder ones here might remember when Rory’s mother, Kathryn was brought to Caithness under duress. It was a bad time for us, since Irish raiders had just abducted my dear wife—a circumstance that gave me a guid insight into how Rory’s father felt, and none for Harald Comlyn whau was killed because of his many crimes. But think on, that was the last time the settlement came under attack. We might have paid them back by raiding the Irish in return and brought back my wife, but all that happened many years ago. Rory here hadnae even been born and Finn was still in swaddling cloths.”
Hands shaking, Olaf halted the flow of his rhetoric. He appeared to be failing; yet when Finn stepped forward to offer him assistance his grandfather refused, shaking off his hand. A moment later everyone, including Rory, jumped, startled by the noise of Olaf hammering on the floor with a stick he supposedly needed for support. It made Rory’s heart swell to see how sheer determination and pride kept the Jarl upright and his voice steady as went on, “We’ve become o’er complacent. A fine truth that might just lead to the death of many of ye in the Hall, and for that reason, I need ye all to do as I ask. Soon we’ll begin our celebration of the summer solstice—the perfect moment for the Irish to attack. They’re not daft, but then neither are we, so if ye value yer life, dinnae get drunk. Dance about the bonfire as we do each gathering, but go armed, keep yer shields nearby and stay on the side of the fire closest to the water. Take the young folk with ye; make it appear everyone is by the bonfire, for in the dark they willnae be able to tell the difference. Some men will join the few shield-maidens we still have, while the rest keep out of sight in the heather behind the dunes, the strongest will lie down aboard the dragon-boats ready to man the oars if need be.”
Olaf had done well but the Jarl had his limits, and Finn was there to steady him as he sat back in his carved chair. Gradually the noise in the Great Hall grew until Finn yelled, “Enough! If passing up on a drink doesnae suit yer face, then obviously ye nae longer want to live in Caithness. If that’s the case, leave now afore ye endanger yer neighbours.”
Most looked shamefaced and one or two of the rowdy ones kept mumbling under their breaths, until Finn told them to meet him outside to discover what he required of them.
Although Rory had been asked to come up with a plan, he was a Scot. The Olafsen family were the ones the Norsemen looked up to, even though this summer solstice looked to be turning into the worst in living memory. They had decided to keep the plan secret, since secrets had a way of getting out, nae matter how much ye believed in yer friends. He reached out to Olaf and squeezed his shoulder to show how much he admired his stance. “We’ll do whate’er is needed, Olaf. I hope ye know that.”
“I trust ye, Rory.” The man he looked on as an uncle reached out to catch hold of Rory’s hand. “Our families have been friends since that time I talked of. And because I trust ye, I have a favour to ask. Should this fight go wrong, I want ye to take Ainsel and the bairn back to Dun Bhuird with ye.”
The first thought that leapt to mind was that Ainsel had told him they were lovers, but it took only a moment to realise he was wrong as Olaf said, “If the Irish win, it’s Ainsel whau will bear the brunt of everyone’s ire because of Nils and the hate he has brought down upon us. And Axel, my great-grandson, the light of my life, his father is a traitor and a murderer, but he is dead and it’s his son that will have to live with the shame, for they will ne’er let him forget, so please for the sake of our friendship, save my grandson. Ainsel can defend herself but … he’s a wee bairn.”
“Ye have my promise. Here’s my hand on it,” Rory said, suiting his action to the words. Rory turned and strode toward the wide double doors that stood open. Finn’s back was to him as he spoke to his people, and Rory knew his attention should have been on the questions coming thick and fast at his friend, question he could help to answer if his mind wasnae caught in a whirlwind spinning him into the future. A future he had ne’er anticipated. God’s teeth, he had nae time to think on them now when the world as he remembered it was about to come down on all their heads.
Rory was last to come through the doors. Ainsel had been listening to her brother with only half an ear while she waited for her lover to appear. ‘Her lover’: it wasnae a name she had used for him before, but after last night how else could she think of him.
Her brother was giving orders to all the folk crowding round him. “Calder, I want ye on one of the dragon-boats—”
Gilda raised her hand. “Can I go with him?”
“Aye lass, ye can go with yer man.”
Finally Finn turned to her. “Ainsel, I want you to be part of the fighters watching above the beach. Grandfather will see that Axel is taken care of, but we’ll probably need yer skills in the first wave should they come through the water to reach the shore. I noticed yesterday during the practice bouts that ye have lost few of them. There’s a chance ye might end up in the water and get wet, s
o wear clothes that willnae drag ye down.” Finn paused, his voice a shade gruffer as squinted at her through a frown. “I need ye to remember that this will be real. Nae quarter will be given. They willnae see ye as a lassie; yer just another warrior to them and, like them, yer purpose is to kill enemies.
Ainsel blinked as she nodded her understanding, frightened he might see the fear in her eyes—not for herself—but for the whole settlement. Fear for her son. Their safe world was on a line of collision with the gods.
When she lifted her gaze, it was Rory her eyes fixed upon. The heated intensity she saw there struck her such a blow she almost cried out, and though the punch was mental not physical, she could already feel a scar forming that would stay with her as long as she lived.
What if she were killed.
Dead and ne’er told Rory he was a father.
“That’s it,” Finn told them. “Go to yer homes, find yer shields and sharpen yer swords. I want everyone armed. If ye have nae weapons, use pitchforks—aught sharp that can hurt, otherwise come to the Hall and we’ll see that yer not left defenceless.”
As the crowd thinned, scattering in an array of directions, Ainsel approached the Great Hall. Axel’s safety was her first priority. The past had shown her Olaf was the only man she could trust.
She hugged Axel close, sniffing the back of his neck as if to imprint his scent in her memory. She knew that fighting was an art she excelled at, unlike picking a man to love. If Nils had taught her aught it was that. Rory? Their situation confused her. Had she fallen in love with him, or was it her initial discovery at Axel’s birth that had affected her emotions, realising that Nils couldnae possibly be her son’s father, and that left only Rory.
Unlike Nils, in the three years of their marriage she had been unfaithful only that once. At first she had believed that revenge had driven her to seduce Rory, though in truth, as she had watched Nils slip away frae the bonfire with another lass, her emotions had been disappointment, disgust that he thought so little of her he hadnae tried to hide the tryst. Worse, he had picked someone she knew, though didnae claim as a friend. Even so, she had felt humiliation stab her like a knife to the heart.
She would ne’er know what drew her to Rory.
Mayhap his sense of isolation—a man apart frae the madness conjured by the flames, the frenzy, moments of hysteria. She had looked at him and thought they were the only two sane folk in the settlement, in all of Caithness. The plaid he wore immediately set him at a distance frae the rest. She’d heard through Nils that there were visitors in Caithness—Scots. Her husband had been at his scathing best, which assured her they must be handsome or at least striking. In the flame-light Rory had been more than either, glowing like a god.
Afterwards she had concluded the gods had recognised the sorrow flooding her heart, the sensation that she faced a future where naught would ever change and had sent her a gift to lift her spirits. And it had been a gift of love—Axel.
In a haze of internal meandering, she didnae notice Rory until he reached for her shoulder, halting her in the doorway. She lifted her eyes to his afore glancing into the dimness of the Hall. Her grandfather lifted a hand acknowledging her presence. She smiled, quickly, nervously. “I have a lot to do…” She dragged down air. This was Rory, and he didnae deserve the decision she was about to make. Aye, she was scared, but to confess the truth now—that moment—could turn the course of the battle, for if Rory left through her idiocy, the whole settlement would pay.
At that moment in time, they needed him more than she did.
“I willnae hold up yer preparations. I merely wanted ye to know when all this is o’er, I’ll find ye. What can I say except I’ve discovered I have feelings for ye that I cannae dismiss, and I’m left with nae time to study them. Ask Calder, he’ll tell ye I’ve ne’er been impulsive; my father wouldnae stand for it. Yet, I disobeyed him to return to Caithness, and now I find the lass I was searching for doesnae exist—and ye do.”
He ruffled Alex’s curls with a big hand she could picture covering her breast. “I made a promise to yer grandfather, should aught go wrong. I expect he’ll explain.” Rory dropped his hand to her elbow and hers stretched to cup his, as if the action was confirmation of a vow. She looked at his face, trying to read his expression, and again he surprised her with the heat in his eyes. Afore she could say aught he pulled her closer, Axel pressed against his chest and hers as Rory took her mouth in a swift bittersweet kiss. Short hard, teeth and tongue, then Rory was gone leaving her wondering if they would really meet again.
Chapter 15
God’s blood, he wished he knew more about boats—dragon-boats in particular. Rory strode in the direction of the river. Behind him the bonfire had been lit. It had gone up with a whoosh and a roar—pine-tar—while the least able of the settlement, both young and auld, danced in front of the huge pile of wood that had been gathered for another purpose completely. Even now he would swear he felt the heat, the flames licking at the back of his neck. Fire was a terrible weapon, difficult to control yet, given its head, would feast as voraciously on flesh as it did on wood. Rory intended to let it loose to gorge upon the Irish like a hound frae hell and let it do its worst. This year’s solstice promised to be as different frae the last, as summer was frae winter.
As he was different.
Unafraid of what was to come, but with a new awareness—knowledge—of the responsibilities that his father had taken on frae the moment he accepted Malcolm Canmore’s decision to make him Chieftain of the Comlyn clan.
Accountable: that’s what he’d become since the moment he had come up with the plan.
Part of him wished he were in the front line of fighters hiding in the heather waiting to pounce. The cut and thrust of hand-to-hand combat was more his style than the need to consider currents and tides. As for Ainsel, he was already cogitating how long it would take him to get back to her side. He had nae doubt she could defend herself, she had shown him how well the day afore. Rory felt himself harden at the memory of the dance she had led him on—sinuous yet lethal, a contest betwixt male and female. When a young lad, he had seen his cousin Rob and his friends do a dance o’er crossed swords—a challenge, warrior to warrior—but with the same intensity he had felt training with Ainsel. Training… A harsh ironic groan slipped o’er his lips.
Why then did he feel this urge to protect her as a man protects his woman?
God’s blood, what was he about? Protect her? He wanted to ravish her and let her ravish him as they had done in her bed until the early dawn’s light warned it was time to stand up and be the kind of man his father expected. He had slaked his desire for Ainsel and he still wanted, needed her. She was in his blood and would live with him ever after. And she was more, more than the woman he had come to Caithness seeking. Ainsel had a face he could bring to mind swifter than was guid for him. She had a name he had cried out as he thrust inside her, heart pounding, seed spilling, and wanted to shout to the world. Ainsel was nae a dark shadow, a ghostly figure that had lurked in his dreams all year without a skerrick of recognition beyond the scent of honey and thyme.
Ainsel was real. She had a bairn and was the granddaughter of a Jarl, and he had nae earthly notion what he intended to do about her.
For a moment, he bit down on the inside of his cheek, as if the pain were needed to waken him to where he was, and what was expected of him. Shrugging off the urge to examine his motives further, he quickened his pace. Finn was there afore him; at least one of them was knowledgeable about the watery forces required to drive the burning dragon-boat into the Irish vessels.
Now that there were at least three of them to see the dragon-boat on its way, Ghillie began to relax at last. The sight of his cousin striding toward him was enough to allow him a heartfelt sigh, though what the scowl on Rory’s face boded wasnae his to see. It was all very well knowing in yer bones that all would go to plan, so to speak. Occasionally he came up against a sliver of doubt sown by the other side of his heritage. Nhai
meth, his father’s bloodline, was one that he shared with Rory, yet his cousin ne’er seemed to experience aught but faith in his endeavours. As a first cousin to Harry and Ralf, Rob McArthur’s twins, through both his father and mother, Ghillie sometimes questioned why the twins hadnae been burdened by the same gift that the auld gods had laid upon his own shoulders.
Rory’s scowl remained in place as he informed them, “All’s set. Let’s send up a prayer that the tides are on our side. The bonfire is immense enough to keep it burning all night long. At least that’s nae problem.”
Though Rory’s statements were directed straight at Finn, when he turned in Ghillie’s direction, his eyes narrowed, lines fanned out frae the corners shaded by his lashes while his dark brows met in the middle, making him look aulder, unswerving in his ambition to win.
Gavyn, Rory’s father, had been much the same and, except for the scar on Gavyn’s face, Rory would have been his spitting image.
When Ghillie was younger, Nhaimeth had enjoyed telling him stories of his early days at Cragenlaw: of the day his half-brother, Alexander, had been murdered by Kalem the Moor and how the same man had abducted a much younger Rob. How on that day, Gavyn and the McArthur set out after Rob together, slaughtered Kalem then brought the lad home. His father had spoken of Gavyn with pride, how he hadnae even been aware that Rob was part of his family. Nae, he had done it because it was the right thing to do; and that’s what Ghillie saw in Rory’s expression now—the need to do what was honourable, nae matter that the upcoming battle wasnae truly his to win.
Moving closer, Finn told them, “To accompany yer prayers, Grandfather has asked the sorcerer living in a cave on the far side of these trees to make a sacrifice in obeisance to Odin. I hope the gods were listening. All of us here are more than aware how much depends on the time when they sail up the Ness. The Irishmen will be well aware of the importance of the tides. To our advantage, the wind at least is nae with them. If, as we hope, their plans are to enter the Ness and sail up toward the settlement with the high-tide, the moment we loose this dragon-boat on the turning tide, it should sail right into them.”
Chieftain's Rebel Page 13
