After Gavyn had left her, an outraged, young, newly wed bride with nae husband in sight, it had taken Magnus’s even-handed temperament to bring her down to earth. For two years while Gavyn fought in France, the constable had taught her to run Dun Bhuird, had passed down stories of her family’s history that had made her realise being the Comlyn matriarch was a thing to be proud of, and more than a wee game to show Gavyn she could manage without him. Olaf had played a big part in that history and, as if he too realised the truth about Axel’s heritage, had passed down tales of Caithness—history she would tell to her grandson when he was auld enough to understand what grand folk he came frae.
Finn must have been a guid distance away, for he still hadnae arrived, so she sat there in the silence soothing Olaf’s passing, for there was nae doubt in her mind that he was about to die. There was naught she could do about the tears running down her cheeks, or the hot lump in her throat, nor did she wish to quell them. Lifetimes of emotion imbued these moments she shared with the auld Jarl and naught that needed hiding. She spoke to him softly of Axel and Ainsel, of Rory, and how she would make sure they married and became a family.
Olaf’s pulse fluttered under the thin skin at his temple as she stroked his brow with one hand and held the other. It startled her when his grip on her hand tightened and his pale blue eyes stared up at her. When he spoke, the words were hardly more than a breath, but the way she had been leaning close to Olaf made it easy to catch them all. “Nils … he wants the bairn … take Axel away … save him.” The last he spoke was louder, a truth they both knew: “Not his son.”
And then he died.
She was still weeping and stroking Olaf’s dear face when Finn and the woman whau had finally caught up with him arrived in the Great Hall. She found it hard to watch a big strong man like Finn’s face crumple at the agony of realising his grandfather had gone to the gods the Norse folk believed in. “What happened?”
Kathryn didnae bother to hide her tears, her sorrow. “An argument,” she said her voice flat as she pictured the scene she had come upon when she left the kitchen. “He was shouting at a very fair man that I didnae recognise, shaking that heavy stick he always relied on at the stranger, as if he’d rather hit him with the knobbly end. That’s when I sent for you.”
Her breath departed her lungs in a sigh that left her feeling empty inside. “It took me but a moment, yet when I returned to Great Hall the man was in the doorway, his back to me so I couldnae see his face. I just knew frae his unkempt appearance, boots clothes and hair that he had been travelling for a while. And nae, afore ye imagine it, I have none of Ghillie’s gift, just years of experience. Yer grandfather was sprawled on his back slipping off his chair. I hoisted him back into it and sat with him, giving him what comfort I could until he passed.”
She held up the hand that still held Olaf’s as Finn knelt on the other side of the huge chair that would now be his. “Did he say naught?”
“A few words right afore he died. He gave me the man’s name: Nils.” She heard Finn suck in a sharp, painful breath. “But he’s dead,” he said his voice full of disbelief.
“Apparently not.” She lifted the hand that still held hers. “Whatever his name, he stole Olaf’s ring frae off his finger as he lay here, defenceless. Olaf also said Nils wanted the bairn, wanted Axel, and I must take him away and keep him safe. I dinnae claim to know why, but Olaf surely knew Ainsel’s husband as well as anyone apart frae her.”
Finn’s lips folded in tightly against his teeth in a grim, bitter line. “Grandfather wasnae aware of the half. Nils was a bully, he abused Ainsel but for some reason she ne’er told anyone, kept it all to herself.”
Kathryn huffed a sharp breath down her nose. “He would have been threatening her or someone she loved. I know frae experience. My father, Erik the Bear, was just such a man. Ach nae, he didnae hurt women, but he knew fine how to make guid on a threat.”
With that she got to her feet. “I ken ye will have a great amount to do, one death after another, but Olaf’s death requires the time and respect needed to send him to Walhalla. I would have been honoured to stay, and mayhap my husband and the other Scots will be back in time, but I must leave and take Axel with me.”
When Finn opened his mouth as if to protest, she cut him off, “It was yer grandfather’s dying wish, and I promised him I would make sure Axel was safe. Until ye make sure Nils is gone from this earth. The bairn will ne’er be safe here.”
Straightening her spine, she smoothed the creases out of her kirtle and pulled back her shoulders, fixing Finn with a piercing gaze. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take my housecarls with me for protection on the way to Dun Bhuird,” she tilted her chin as she spoke. It came naturally to assume the mantle of Lady Kathryn, wife of one of the most preeminent Chieftains in Scotland and descendant of many more—Norse and Scots—she stared down at Finn where he knelt by his grandfather’s chair. “I think it’s obvious to us both that the moment Nils lays eyes on Axel, he will know the bairn isnae his. The only way I can keep him safe is to take him and his wet nurse with me to Dun Bhuird.”
“Mayhap I should—” began Finn.
“Ye do realise that ye are now the Jarl of Caithness, aware that the responsibilities Olaf bore are now on yer shoulders? The Norse folk whau live in Caithness now depend on ye to take care of them. Trust me when I say, adding one wee bairn to yer load is like to double it. Nae man can be everywhere. Let me deal with my grandson while ye see to the rest.”
When his pale blue eyes, so like his grandfather’s, few open wide, she simply smiled, telling him, “I knew the moment I laid eyes on him, and to confirm it, Axel has the same heart-shaped birthmark as Rory and all my other bairns. That comes frae Gavyn’s side. What I dinnae understand is how Rory has not claimed him already.”
She quirked her brows at him, “Of course he might have been so blinded by a certain widow he ne’er noticed the bairn.”
Finn answered, stare for stare. “Then again, he might simply have been too busy to notice by being caught up in making the plans that saved the settlement.”
“Aye, that as well. I have to admit he takes after his father,” she said. Finn’s expression said he wasnae so sure about that, and she smirked to herself as she walked away saying, “Time to organise my housecarls if we are to leave while there is still plenty of daylight betwixt us and Dun Bhuird. It’s a grand place. Feel welcome to visit Axel anytime.”
She returned to the kitchen through the leather curtain and Finn still hadnae uttered another word.
Chapter 26
He wasnae sure exactly what magic Kathryn used in the potions she had fed him. Calder only cared that he felt better. Just as well, since Kathryn Comlyn had gone back to Dun Bhuird, taking every one of Gavyn’s men with her with nae explanation, just instructions to stay where he was until Rory and Ghillie came back with Gavyn. The strangest part of it all was seeing Kathryn ride off with Axel wrapped in a plaid in front of her. “Finn will explain,” she said as she dug her heels into her mount’s sides and left him standing in her dust.
The way he felt now, the day couldnae come soon enough when he and Gilda left Caithness in their dust. He trusted Rory to bring Gilda back to him. They were like brothers. He knew Rory would ne’er let him down and, what with Gavyn and the others there to support him, he had nae real doubts.
He was standing looking out across the water, down the Ness; he couldnae keep away. All his hopes were fixed on seeing a sail, or two, on the horizon. Anything that meant Gilda was on her way back to his arms.
Calder hadnae moved frae the spot for what seemed like forever, standing, eyes fixed on the horizon, worried about the black line of clouds he saw to the north even while the lowering sun bounced gold rays off the water into his pupils, making him squint.
He was surprised when Finn found him, knowing Ainsel’s brother must have his hands full with his grandfather’s death atop every other thing that had gone wrong in the last few days. Calder held out his
hand to Finn, their clasp firm, painful even, hand to elbow as they locked gazes. “I am sorry about yer grandfather. Olaf was a leader that the Norse folk will ne’er forget. My heart plummets when I think how we used up his grand dragon-boat on the Irish.”
“Nae need. Grandfather would be the first to say using it was necessary. Its use saved many more lives than one.” Finn dropped his arm and tilted his head to one side, “Aye, Grandfather died of heart seizure, but Nils Larsen was the one whau caused it—Kathryn saw him—and afore I send Olaf to Walhalla I need to find Nils and kill him, as he deserves. In fact, I would kill him a hundred times o’er if it were possible. My sister’s husband brought all this strife down upon us, and it would give me great pleasure to make sure he suffers long and hard, but my grandfather comes first. I have men searching for the scoundrel, but I could always use another pair of eyes.”
Surprised and dumb-founded, when Calder could eventually speak he bit out, “But I thought he was dead.”
“Olaf lived long enough to tell Kathryn his name. He also warned her to get Axel away, as ye might have noticed she has done. One look at the lad and he’ll know the bairn’s nae his, since Nils is even fairer than Ainsel.” Finn shook his head and the sigh he released had a dry edge he finished with a lift of the fair brows, so like his sister’s. “I took the bairn at face value and cannae believe I didnae see it for myself.”
“If not Nils, who?” Calder spoke under his breath his mind racing.
“Kathryn has her opinion, her own certainty, but I wouldnae care to speculate. The truth will out, as they say. We will simply have to wait for all to be revealed.”
By Calder’s estimation, the truth of the matter might mean Rory hadnae been fully honest about his yearning to return to Caithness—not recently and definitely not about the time spent here during their first visit. Had he known Ainsel was married? Is that what kept him silent? Then a more important problem loomed in his mind. “That means Ainsel is nae longer a widow.”
“I’ve a mind to change that afore she gets home,” Finn assured him.
Calder had ne’er met the man, didnae remember him frae last year and had really only heard of Ainsel’s husband through Gilda, and none of it guid. “Where have ye looked so far?”
“I’ve sent men out into the surrounds of the settlement. Though there are men repairing the boats, one boat will be needed for my grandfather’s last journey and there’s wood to be gathered and piled into it for his pyre. I’ve already warned those out gathering it to be on the lookout for Nils. Most of the wives and bairns have gathered in the kitchen for safety and to prepare the funeral feast. That leaves only the brochs scattered about the place. A few are empty through all the deaths in the battle, and the others because its folk are already busy with other tasks. I noticed that ill or not, yer already armed, so I thought you and I could search them together.”
“Lead on. We need to get though them afore dark.” He had nary a doubt in his mind that Rory would return with Gilda for him, and as he strode through the settlement at Finn’s side, he could see them together—man and wife—in the future. Calder ne’er minded a fight; that’s what he had trained for most of his life. Nae, it was the thought of not being here when Gilda returned that set up a flutter around his heart, a yearning called love.
Rory reached out, placed an arm around Ainsel and pulled her in close to his side, relishing the warmth of her along his length and, dare he say, he burned frae its heat. Their journey frae Orkney had seemed to take twice as long as the outward one.
He wasnae stupid. He knew why time felt as if it stretched farther than the distance of Orkney to Caithness. He wanted Ainsel. Wanted her so much he ached—ached for the impossible. Yet, because of the space around them being so tight, the woman he burned for had ne’er been out of his sight—nor, unfortunately, had Ghillie or Gilda.
By the time daybreak grasped hold of the mountain peaks and began to pull itself o’er them, the others had yet to waken frae their slumbers and he had sat most of the night side by side with Ainsel, close, talking of their families, the past—everything except Nils.
The man was like an adder coiled in a circle amongst the heather—hidden—a creature that once woken could change a life with a swift bite. Nils had already done a good job of biting Ainsel, had already changed her life. Thinking too much about her with that brute made Rory’s gut clench, every muscle in his body quivering like an o’er-tight bow string that had just been plucked.
It pained him that there was naught he could do to retaliate for the wrongs Nils had done.
Later, as the sun had reached its zenith and he could nae longer stop himself, frustration at not being able to pull her into his arms where she belonged overwhelmed Rory. His longing for her tangled with the anger inside him for Nils—her so-called husband, the cheat. The force of his feelings sprang frae his lips in a harsh torrent, “I cannae understand how ye let that gobshite get away with treating ye so badly, Ainsel. Yer a strong woman, ye have proved that o’er and o’er again.” The question burned like the twist of a knife in the gut but he asked it anyway, “Did ye love him that much?”
It seemed she too had been reflecting on the past, for she spoke softly as if it had been a dream, not the nightmare he saw. “He had a silver tongue, knew exactly what to say, how to cozen. He was handsome and I was young, flattered that out of all the unmarried lasses at Caithness he had chosen me.”
She folded her arms across with her arm guards sitting under her breasts as if she needed protection, making him wonder if she would e’er trust a man again.
Ever let him in.
Aye, she had taken Rory Farquharson into her bed, into her body… all well and guid, but he wanted into her heart.
Ainsel’s shoulders drooped, curved forward above her folded arms and, as if the way she sat made talking uncomfortable, he listened to her murmur: “The first time he hit me came as a shock. He talked his way out of it, put the blame on me, said I had angered him. The first time he beat me, I threatened to tell my grandfather. He told me to go ahead if I wished to see my grandfather dead and send him off to Walhalla.”
Her voice had grown flat and weary, as if long ago Ainsel decided she had nae other choice. Rory unclenched the fists that had formed at her pitiful explanation, knowing all he could do at that moment to offer her comfort was unfold her arms, take her hands betwixt his big paws and proceed to rub warmth into them, as if he suffered frae the delusion that his fingers might smooth away her regrets. She had finally spoken the truth about her false marriage, let someone other than herself into the cruel mire that her life with Nils had been, and Rory knew that the telling of it had numbed her.
“He used to take other women as well. I’d walk through the settlement wondering if they were watching, sniggering behind their hands, or merely feeling sorry for me, a shield-maiden whau didnae have the courage to stand up for herself.” She sighed, her voice growing fainter still as she told him, “Now I wish I’d killed him while I had the chance and taken the consequences.”
Her fingers grew lax as he massaged the tension away and, as her weight against his shoulder increased, he realised she had drifted off to sleep.
Rory passed the rest of the journey holding her in his arms, wishing he had known all this last year, known Ainsel as he did now and wishing he’d had the opportunity to kill Nils Larsen long afore he drowned and let the fishes eat him.
Now it was late in the day, night. A stiff breeze bellied out the sails, snapped loudly as if in warning, as if the easy journey they had taken thus far might soon be o’er. Ainsel clutched his arm as dark clouds piled up behind the wee dragon-boat, sending it tumbling as if fighting against both waves and wind.
Rory turned to look directly into Ainsel’s eyes. Normally they were the pale-blue of a morning sky, but in this threatening light they deepened, reflecting the colour of the twilight, a night too bright with stars to call it a gloaming, but for how long. “We’re almost there, lass. Axel will be happy to
see his mother.”
She smiled at him. It lit up a face brimming with emotion, filled with joy at the prospect of holding Axel again. “They change so quickly at his age—grow, learn something new. I miss him.”
He merely nodded, realising that in nae small way he almost missed the bairn himself. Mayhap it was because they came as a pair and Ainsel would need a great deal of persuading if he was to take both mother and bairn with him when he returned to Dun Bhuird.
The dragon-boats reached Caithness in the early blue of twilight. Without a huge bonfire to light their way, from where he stood in the bow, the lights of the settlement looked like a wee swarm of fireflies dancing in the dark purple shadows at the bottom of the brae.
Added to that, there was his father to talk round to his way of thinking. Rory looked o’er his shoulder at the other Caithness boat carrying his father and practically every male relative or friend he had, excluding Calder, whau he expected to be waiting for the boats to anchor. What would his father say to him about taking on a wife already encumbered by a son?
Ainsel felt as if Rory now knew almost everything about her: the guid, the bad, but not the worst. She should have told him—confessed—the night afore, or even afore that, when he told he had come back looking for an unnamed lass, still not aware it was her.
He thought her strong, courageous, saw her as a Norse shield-maiden, yet she hadnae possessed the pluck to confess the truth in such a confined space. She had this vision of him picking her up and tossing her o’er board to share the same fate as Nils. Aye, the sooner they were ashore the sooner she could tell Rory the truth and beg his forgiveness.
She stood in the bow with Gilda and Ghillie while Rory helped with anchoring the boat on the edge of the Ness once the forward hull scraped on the sand. They had been too far out earlier to recognise that there were figures on the beach. Now she saw a few, but not all of them appeared to be waiting for them to disembark. For Gilda’s sake, she hoped Calder was among them. She would ne’er be able to repay her friend for the sacrifice she had been prepared to make for her. Folk thought, as Rory did, that she had inherited the courage that came with being an Olafsen, her grandfather’s only female descendent, but in her heart she wondered if she could have done what Gilda had. More likely she would have tried to put MacLoughlin to the sword—a daydream, not a thought. She would ne’er have done aught to endanger her grandfather. Gilda was braver that she e’er would be and had proved it so.
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