Rory’s hands had stopped gripping Gilda; instead they smoothed the tops of her arms up and down to comfort her as dry sobs wracked her chest. He wasnae willing to make do with that though, “Did ye throw him the rope?”
“I wanted to, I caught sight of him and shouted, ‘Calder!’ that’s when the mast on the Irish ship collapsed right where I was looking to throw him the rope.” Her breasts shuddered under her shortcoat and she reached out for Ainsel’s hand. “If the sword thrust didnae kill him then the mast did,” she said, then fell silent.
Both she and Rory appeared to hold their breath gathering a silence around them thick enough to deafen them. It was enough to convince them that they wouldnae get any more frae her.
“I’ll carry her,” was all Rory said.
Ainsel barely felt like speaking yet said, “I’ll go first,” and she did, standing knee deep in the sea in case Rory stumbled as he leapt frae the boat with Gilda in his arms. Ainsel neednae have worried, he planted his feet solidly through the sea and into the sand and stood up strong, a safe grip on his precious bundle. Rory was a man any woman would love to marry, to have him teach her son to be a man.
Aye any woman, but Ainsel dare not take the risk, for if the truth became known, she wouldnae lose only Rory, she might lose her son as well.
Chapter 18
It wasnae that Rory didnae want to carry Gilda the distance; she weighed next to naught, light as dandelion seeds floating on the wind. A proud wee thing, Gilda wouldnae let him carry her past the water’s edge. To ease her way back to the shore, they walked slowly. The women were both crying, just not as loudly as before. Truth to tell, he felt like crying himself. He couldnae believe Calder would nae longer be in his life. They had shared everything since they were lads and Calder was fostered with Gavyn, which meant they had more in common than he had with his younger brothers.
He had a hard lump in his chest, like a boulder placed there in lieu of tears and, like all the others in the settlement, he would have to bear it until it wore away, piece by piece as it rolled around inside him.
Finn led the way to the Longhouse, as was fitting; soon he would be the Jarl of Caithness. Everyone knew Olaf was getting on. God’s teeth they had burned the dragon-boat he had intended to sail in to Walhalla. They would have to build another, mayhap sooner than afore, because of the invasion. Olaf was looking fragile. All he had was Finn, Ainsel and Axel, and Rory had formed the intention of taking Ainsel and Axel back to Dun Bhuird with him. God’s teeth, better if he died sooner than spend the rest of his life without them.
The first of their group had reached the longhouse with Finn at their head, and he waited to hear the cheers, the start of the celebration … but he waited in vain. The hairs on the back his neck, stood on end, rippled as if a snake crawled up his neck. Something was wrong.
Shouts erupted without a hint of laughter or cheer. He scooped up both lassies, an arm around each, and moved them away to the side hidden by the crush. “We’ll go in through the kitchen, better that way.”
Both shuffled sideways, following with him nae sign of protest—none spoken anyway, though there was a look in Ainsel’s eyes, a small mote of fear that she seemed to know not to voice. Whoever they had watching out for them wasnae doing a very guid job, and they reached the wide eaves he had stood under a few nights ago talking with Ainsel. That must have been when the emotions inside him had begun. He hoped she had realised today that she was more than just a fuck to him, that he was in this for the forever they had talked about.
He pulled both lassies close and talked in a low voice. “Something’s wrong. This isnae the victory celebration we imagined. The two of ye stay here. I’m going to slip in through the kitchen and see what’s happening. Keep close to the building and dinnae stand out. I’ll try not to be long.“
Guardedly, he slipped into the kitchen. For once there was nae women bent o’er the solid wood boards pummelling dough, and though the room was empty, a log fire still burned in the iron grate and, hanging above it, a cauldron bubbled hard, spitting o’er the sides in clouds of steam, as if the contents might burn with nae one to tend to it.
The leather curtains, normally pulled to each side, hung closed, blocking the view. He eased closer, lifting the edge of the leather at one side, only enough to hear more of the noise muffled by the leather. Fortunately he was well known for his steady nerves. A black beak and feathered head poked through the gap level with his boots. “Heimdall,” he whispered, “where’s Ghillie?” then cursed himself for being daft as, with a flutter of wings, it went back into the Great Hall.
Gradually the noise reaching him became more distinct, and he was able to pick out individual voices, loudest of all a gruff accent that wasnae Scots nor Norse, though after so many years, the blending of the two races had made that difference less recognisable. The rest were a low hum with the occasional protest—Finn’s for one but naught of Olaf’s unsteady voice. Bairns were crying, distressed. Aye, they sensed all wasnae well in the Hall, in the settlement. Axel.
If aught happened to him, Ainsel would be distraught. For guid or ill, life had already made her a widow; to lose Axel would crush her in a way that not even his promise could repair. Rory lifted the curtain, widened the gap, and came face to face with Ghillie. He was holding Axel, whau whimpered, fretting nae doubt for Ainsel. Acting on instinct he took Axel frae his cousin and hoisted the bairn onto his shoulder, pulling Ghillie through the curtain with the other hand. “What are ye doing with Ainsel’s bairn?”
“When the women were ushered out by two of MacLoughlin’s men. The wet-nurse was one of them. She had Axel in a sling, out of sight. All the women were weeping. Even so, she noticed me, screened by the shadows in the corner, and turned her back, howling in what seemed like terror, bending o’er as if covering her face with her hands. That’s when she passed Axel to me. The dark has its uses in these auld halls.” Then he smiled, turning his head as the raven gently alighted on his shoulder.
Rory shook his head at the affection for the bird he had ne’er understood. Some thought it was part of his gift, others magic. At times, to Rory, it was like an affectation. “Go out the back. Ainsel and Gilda are there, fetch them into the kitchen.”
The raven fluttered up, then down on Ghillie’s shoulder and all hint of a smile melted off his wide mouth as he gasped, “Where’s Calder?”
The bairn squirmed in his arms and Rory realised he was holding Axel too tight, unconsciously passing on his grief and regrets for Calder’s death to the wee one. “Calder was killed by a sword betwixt the ribs. Gilda saw it happen. It appears that if the sword wound didnae kill him then drowning did, for he ended up in the Ness.” Rory couldnae stop his face frae crumpling round the eyes. He sucked in a sharp breath that narrowed his nostrils and snapped, “Go and get the lassies.”
Axel obviously wasnae very happy with the tone he spoke to Ghillie in, since he began to cry. Hoisting him on his shoulder, he pressed his cheek close, making some of the soothing noises he had listened to Ainsel making. His attempt calmed the bairn down and he was standing that way, jiggling him on his forearm when the lassies bustled into the kitchen in front of Ghillie.
Ainsel broke into smiles when her eyes lighted on Axel. She hurried up to Rory and without thought to whau might see, he gathered her into his free arm and pulled her and Axel close drinking in the scent of them. He didnae care about Axel’s father. This could be his family, all he had to do was get them out of this situation to the safety of Dun Bhuird. He cupped Axel’s cheek and smoothed his thumb o’er the chubby pink curve while dipping his chin to give Ainsel a swift buss on her pale brow.
Gilda came to life again, her eyes bright, though for some reason her jaw dropped at the sight of Ainsel in Rory’s arms. Now she would think Ainsel had been holding out on her; while she’d been telling Ainsel about her love for Calder, Ainsel had been scared to say too much. She had told nae one about last solstice and now it seemed that, like the raven on Ghillie’s shoulder, h
er mistakes were coming home to roost. Ghillie spoke afore Gilda could utter a word. He didnae seem worried that Rory was holding Ainsel close, not only that his arm rested on Ainsel’s waist, but to see him holding her son Axel as well. Ainsel, expected one of his witty remarks, but all he said was, “Ach, that bairn’s pleased to see his mother. I’d been holding him at the back of the Hall, then Rory arrived and relieved me of my onerous duty. I really know naught about bairns.”
Ainsel turned to Ghillie, opening the distance betwixt the three of them, though Rory ne’er dropped the arm he had set about her waist. “I dinnae understand why ye were tending to him in the first place. Grandfather promised he would make sure he was safe while I did my duty by the settlement.” She couldnae resist adding, “We all know that if I hadnae been cozened by Nils in the first instance, none of these folk would have been put in danger.”
Gilda wouldnae let it rest there. “It was the Irish he offended, yet most of the men on the boat that rammed ours were frae Orkney, where Nils came frae. In my opinion, he came here to better himself, and he did that by marrying ye. Chances are the islanders came here not only to steal our wealth; they were after acquiring our land as well.” Gilda took a shuddering breath. “I for one refuse to let anyone else of Nil’s ilk steal aught frae us.”
Ainsel recognised that determined expression on her friend’s face. Once Gilda got the bit betwixt her teeth she was hard to control and, staring straight at Rory, she said, “I’ll ne’er have my dream now-w,” her top lip quivered, revealing to Ainsel that her thoughts were really with Calder. “That doesnae mean I resent Ainsel achieving hers. She deserves better than a man whau would desert his wife with a bairn on the way.” At last Gilda thankfully halted the harangue she had aimed at Rory, making Ainsel’s blood curdle at the way Gilda took her being with Rory for granted.
“Whist, the lot of ye,” Ghillie cut in. “There is more to this than ye realise. MacLoughlin says he wants to take Ainsel, the Jarl’s granddaughter, in place of his wife. And he’s holding a knife at Olaf’s throat to make sure he gets what he wants.”
Ainsel felt faint, she was sure the blood disappeared frae her face as she clung to Rory and, almost more importantly, to Axel, her wee defenceless son. O’erhead, she heard the rumble of Rory’s voice, felt it through the fingertips of the hand that clung to him. “I willnae let that happen. I’ll challenge him in Olaf’s place. He cannae expect an auld man to fight for himself.”
Thinking this is what happens when ye commit a sin—everybody has to pay for it—Ainsel looked up into Rory’s stern face.
“I’ll fight him or anybody whau would harm ye,” he growled.
Axel began to cry and her head spun in a whirl of solutions, though none sounded enough. She knew only that she couldnae let Rory be killed. Rory, the man she loved, was too honourable to fight dirty and she had heard naught pleasing about the Irish, for hadnae they already stolen her grandmother. “I cannae let ye do that.” She turned to Gilda, begging, tears streaming, “Will ye take care of Axel for me?” she asked, bending to give her bonnie wee lad a kiss where he sat in Rory’s arms. “I couldnae bear for the Irish to get hold of him,” she sobbed.
She pulled away, but Rory wouldnae leave hold, groaning, “Yer mine, lass. He cannae have ye.” Meanwhile Gilda tugged her in the other direction until they were face to face and Ainsel could see her friend was crying as well.
Gilda placed her hands on Ainsel’s face, holding her until there was nae place to look but her eyes. Her friend’s voice sounded rough, broken, yet low so only Ainsel could hear. “Why didnae ye tell me?” Ainsel went to shake her head but Gilda’s hands clamped it in place. “Dinnae deny it. I only have to see them together to know that bairn’s his.”
“Whist,” Ainsel whispered. “Nae one knows, not even him.”
“I never took ye for a fool, lass. Ye should do something about telling him, but I love ye and I’ve naught to live for now Calder’s gone.” She grinned through her tears and swiped them away with the back of her hand after letting Ainsel go. “So, MacLoughlin is after the Jarl’s granddaughter for a new wife. Well, I’ll give her to him, although she might not be all he hoped for.”
And with that she grabbed her shield and burst through the leather curtains into the Great Hall, causing a commotion by shouting, “MacLoughlin, they tell me yer looking for the Jarl’s granddaughter. Well, here I am. I hope yer not disappointed.” The Hall went silent and none gave away the lie Gilda had just told.
“God’s blood, that’s one courageous lassie. Nae wonder Calder loved her so much. I want to be out there cutting them to pieces with my sword, but it’s too late, lass. I’m sorry, Ainsel.”
“This is all my fault. Nae, all of this disaster is down to Nils.” Ainsel collapsed against Rory. He held her and Axel tight, both adults aware that to contradict Gilda now would mean her death, and mayhap Olaf’s as well. As for Axel, he simply felt secure.
“Ghillie, slip into the hall and make sure nae one lets on that it’s a lie. Send the raven if ye think I need to rescue Gilda, or Olaf,” Rory said.
Resting her head against the strength of his right arm, she felt the hilt of Rory’s sword against her hip, knew it took a strong man to wield it. She used to believe she was strong, but she knew that for a lie by her failure to tell anyone that Axel wasnae Nils’s son, by being scared to tell Rory that Axel was his bairn. She didnae deserve Gilda as a friend. “Gilda says she has naught else to live for now Calder’s dead; that’s why she is doing me this great act of kindness. I never had a sister but I always had Gilda. She would have been a better sister than I. She has more courage in her wee finger than I have in my whole body.”
Ghillie held his breath as he watched Gilda brave it out. Nae one spoke. Nae one said she lied. For them at the back of the Hall, they probably couldnae tell the difference. The lassies looked alike, dressed alike, both carried a sword and shield.
She was bold was Gilda, but then, according to her creed, she had naught to lose but her life. The lass had stepped right up to the Jarl’s seat, making MacLoughlin step back frae the auld man he was threatening with a knife. Olaf was doing what he could to aid her deception, taking her hand, pulling her closer. “This is my only granddaughter. Whau will be there to aid me in my auld age if ye take her frae me?” he asked, voice shaky.
“Her man should have thought on that when he stole my wife frae under my nose—”
Gilda cut off his rhetoric and gave him a wee sample of the defiance that lay in his future. “Well, if ye kept her under that ugly nose it’s nae wonder she ran away.”
MacLoughlin merely grinned and ran a finger and thumb, down the nose under discussion. “She’s feisty. I like that in a woman. And a fighter, one of yer shield-maidens by the look of it. Nae doubt she’ll mother fine sons.”
“Aye, I’m a shield-maiden, as lots of yer warriors could attest to, if they could still talk.” Ghillie had slipped behind the Norse folk down the side of the Hall and was witness to Gilda’s sneer as she drew her sword and beat its hilt against her shield. “I’m Ainsel Olafsen, granddaughter to Olaf, Jarl of Caithness, descendent of Thorfinn the Mighty, and the only way the likes of ye could look to taking the likes of me to wife, is by threatening an auld man.” Giving the auld man’s hand a squeeze she stepped down, away frae Olaf’s big carved chair, demanding, “Let’s go. Now that I’m here we might as well be on our way instead standing around dragging out the sorrow.
Chapter 19
And just like that it was all o’er. Ghillie waved Rory and Ainsel into the Great Hall as the Irish marched out, Gilda in the midst of them. Rory felt Ainsel’s shoulders shaking under the width of the arm he’d wrapped around her, but what could ye say to a lass whau’s friend had sacrificed herself in her place. He could tell she wanted to go to her grandfather, but it was too soon. The Irish chieftain, MacLoughlin, wasnae likely to leave Caithness without a few of his men watching his back and, as if they were all stunned, the folk of the settlement stayed
silent inside where the dim light suited their mood.
Ghillie crooked his fingers to draw them closer. “She did well. MacLoughlin appears to have taken a fancy to her. Gilda will be all right.”
Rory thought Ainsel would fly at him, all teeth and nails and, though she spoke quietly, he heard an underlying growl, “How can she be all right when she’s not with us, her family? And how can I live with myself when she has to suffer at the hands of yon man.”
“Nae!” Ghillie’s sharp retort was unlike any Rory had heard him use. “She’ll be all right I promise ye—the auld gods promise ye.”
Ainsel’s eyes bored into his wee cousin, so Rory stepped in. “I’ve ne’er known him to be wrong, honestly; he’s always been this way, and his mother more so. I know it must sound farfetched, but her gift is remarkable. She always knows, she does. Wait till we get to Dun Bhuird. My mother can tell ye all about the prophecy she made.”
He watched Ainsel’s shoulders droop, watched the colour of her eyes change, darken, as if she had made an important decision. “That will ne’er happen. I’ll ne’er go with ye to Dun Bhuird. I don’t deserve aught guid to happen in my life when Gilda will spend her days under the boot of the Irishman.”
“If ye ask me, it might be the other way around.” Rory had ne’er known Ghillie to be such a wee smart-arse, but he could swear a smirk lurked around his cousin’s lips and, dim though it was in the Great Hall, Ainsel must have caught sight of it. She grabbed Axel out of his arms, just when he was getting used to and enjoying the feel of him there.
Chieftain's Rebel Page 16
