The only real piece of courage she had shown had been to disobey Nils when she went out to the bonfire and found Rory standing alone, tall and godlike as he watched the bonfire at last year’s solstice. Even then, she had picked a stranger, one whau would be gone frae Caithness and out of Nils’s reach should he e’er discover her defiance. He ne’er had, and she was more than happy, carried an inner joy that Nils had drowned and ne’er discovered Axel wasnae his.
Why Nils had left her heavy with child and gone off to steal another man’s wife she would ne’er know. Unless the enmity betwixt the Irish and Caithness had been his looked-for result—his plan to get rid of all the Olafsen family and put himself in their place as Jarl, had he achieved his aim.
Now she knew the truth about Nils and his wife in Orkney, she had nae doubt Axel’s life would have been forfeit as well.
Chapter 27
As soon as the other boat anchored alongside, Ghillie swung out feet first o’er the bow and clambered hand o’er hand down a rope looped around the dragonhead. The wind was getting up, and for a moment its skelp swung him in mid air until he released his grip. For once he was uncertain whether to reveal what he sensed coming and was anxious to speak to his father. Aye he could talk to Rory, but it wouldnae be the same, since he always seemed to regard Ghillie’s gift with a sceptic’s eye. His father knew better.
Gavyn took the lead while Rob grasped Nhaimeth’s wrist and, leaning over the side, swung Nhaimeth onto the sand afore following him down; but it was Gavyn whau spoke first, “Ghillie, I believe ye had a big hand in all that’s gone on here o’er the last few days.”
Ghillie, already head and shoulders taller than his father, knew better than to look intimidated. Gavyn might have been there at the death of his grandfather—a man, a Chieftain, Ghillie had ne’er met—yet Ghillie felt him and all his other Comlyn ancestors ranged behind as he straightened his shoulders and spoke up as Heimdall alighted on his shoulder. “I’ll admit to playing an initial part in the whole, but only at the instigation of the auld gods or, as ye will, fate. We may not like it, but our futures are already mapped out ahead of us, something I’m sure ye have an inkling of,” he said, remembering his father telling him how the ravens of Dun Bhuird had led them to the ancient stone circle where the Norse were reluctant to venture. That was on the night Gavyn saved Kathryn’s life, and Rob saved Gavyn’s after he was laid low by a spiteful kick frae Harald Comlyn. Nae more than fifteen, Rob had picked up Gavyn’s sword and killed his first man, and not simply because he could but to avenge Lhilidh, the lass Nhaimeth had looked on as a sister.
The Comlyn-McArthur histories were complicated, yet woven together in a cloth of the auld god’s making—incidents that couldnae otherwise be explained, like the Green Lady at Cragenlaw and the white stag that had led Rob and Nhaimeth to safety in the place where his father and mother had met.
He rushed into speech, saying, “I really need to speak with my father now,” then changed his mind. “Nae, best I speak to ye all. Look at me,” he held out his hands to show they were shaking, “I cannae put a name to it, I simply have this feeling of dread as if something bad is about to happen.”
Ghillie turned then as everyone’ attention was dragged from him by Finn’s shout frae the shore, “I’m glad ye have returned at last, my Grandfather—Jarl Olaf Olafsen is dead.”
The group around Ghillie all turned to Finn, except Gavyn. The Comlyn chieftain stood looking down at him—down because he was very tall, yet nae taller than the other men with him. When Gavyn eventually spoke the thought on his mind, it was as though rocks clogged his throat and the words were forced, “It would appear yer message frae the gods was correct, if a mite late.”
As he stepped away towards Finn, it felt like an admonishment, like a slap. How could ye tell a Chieftain of Gavyn Farquhar’s stature that so much unknown in heaven and earth beyond is a mere mortal’s understanding and that his part was not to reason why but simply to play it to the best of his ability. It was all very well for Gavyn and the others to believe there was naught more to be done. If so, why did he have this sinking feeling of dread in his stomach that fate wasnae done with them yet.
His father must have read his expression, for instead of clustering around Finn with the others, he came to his son’s side. Ghillie could see the love in his father’s eyes as Nhaimeth lifted his gaze to his. “Nae worries, lad. Ye can tell yer father; I’ll always understand.”
At that moment Ghillie realised that although his father was a dwarf, Nhaimeth was a bigger man than Erik the Bear had e’er aspired to be when he sent the new born son whau wasnae to his liking out of his sight frae the moment Nhaimeth first breathed air.
What if his father was a dwarf? Ghillie would always look up to him.
Calder was a guid way behind Finn when he reached the two dragon-boats, the keels making their marks on the sand while they sat at anchor, with the Norse oarsmen jumping into the water where a wee crowd gathered, wind tugging at plaids, hair and ruffling the feather in Gavyn’s bonnet.
Along with the others, he’d spent late afternoon into early e’en searching for Nils, whau still hadnae been found. He hated to be the bearer of bad tidings, but to him Rory’s feelings for Ainsel had been obvious. He knew him so well, knew he wanted Ainsel for his own, and now it seemed she wasnae a widow after all. God’s teeth! If he came across Nils, he would kill the renegade himself for all the trouble he had caused. Ach aye, he would be the first to admit Nils’s actions had brought them together, but they were also likely to tear them apart.
He approached the group, grinding his teeth in frustration, reluctant to give both Rory and Ainsel the news that not only had her husband returned frae the dead, but he had sent her grandfather there in his place—and how could he tell them about Kathryn riding off with Axel?
Thoughts tumbled through his mind that were forcing him to make an unpleasant decision, yet through it all, he approached with his eyes peeled, searching for some sign of Gilda.
His early years had ne’er been what one would call easy. After his father died, his mother had done her best, but she continually said a woman wasnae meant to be on her own, and her choices had been aught but willing to take on another man’s son. He’d ne’er forget the day Gavyn took him to Dun Bhuird to be fostered and to learn the craft of war alongside Rory, for they were of an age. Without that, he would ne’er have met Gilda and for him, she was the brightest star in the sky.
He easily picked out Rob’s voice frae the rumbling mixture of speakers, some high some low. Most folk were standing with their backs to him, as he approached, not daring to hope yet desperate for some signal that they had brought Gilda back to him.
Then he heard a squeal and through the darkness saw one body peel away frae the group. He knew it was Gilda even afore she threw herself into his arms.
Rory lifted his head when he heard the squeal, saw Calder and Gilda crash into one another and cling as if she was a wave and Calder the rocks at Cragenlaw. He felt happy for them, he truly did, but that didnae lessen the impact of hearing Olaf had died of a heart seizure.
The darkness meant he couldnae see Ainsel’s expression; that didnae preclude his hearing her voice. He heard every telling shade: sorrow, disbelief, fear and then … anxiety. “What about Axel? Whau’s looking after my bairn?”
Rory was certain all eyes fixed on Finn, waiting. The silence dragged out until it was almost embarrassing, and in the end it was Ainsel who broke it, with sobs that seeped into her words, “Finn please, dinnae keep me in suspense, what … what has happened to Axel?”
“Kathryn Comlyn took him back to Dun Bhuird with her.”
“What do ye mean she took him with her. I didnae even know she was here.”
“Kathryn told me it was Grandfather’s notion to keep him safe. She found Olaf sprawled on the dais in the Great Hall and sat with him until he died.”
As a spectator, Rory was unwilling to interfere betwixt brother and sister even though it appea
red his mother was at the bottom of the problem. He did notice Finn’s voice becoming quieter and quieter, more difficult to hear, until Ainsel yelled at him, “Safe, what do ye mean safe—from what?”
“Nils. He’s not dead. He caused Grandfather’s seizure and stole the Jarl’s ring off his finger. I’m sorry Ainsel, ye’re not a widow. Nils isnae dead.”
Rory couldnae take any more of this dithering. It had seemed amusing at first, but dead men didnae walk; they needed to stay dead. “Christ on the cross,” he growled, the oath leaving his mouth as if dragged across sharp rocks. “What have ye done about him? Have ye searched for the man?” Rumbles came frae the rest of his family members echoing his question.
“That’s what we were doing when the boats arrived. Ye can ask Calder. He has been helping us, but we’ve almost covered the whole settlement looking for yer bluidy husband,” Finn grumbled in a way that shifted the blame onto Ainsel, which wasnae like him and showed how frustrated he had become with searching atop of everything else that was happening at the settlement.
When Ainsel would have set him right, Rory took it upon himself to tell him what they had discovered at Orkney. “Nils isnae her husband, never was. We discovered he had a wife in Orkney, aulder than him. He most likely ran through all her silver then came to Caithness looking for more.” He paused letting his words sink in. “My father solved MacLoughlin’s needs by giving him Nils’ wife; she was much closer to his age than the auld bugger deserved.”
He looked at Gavyn, who gave him the nod of approval to carry on as he was doing. “We need to combine forces. Taking two boats reduced yer manpower and the amount of ground ye can cover without him slipping away as we get near.” He looked at Calder. His friend had already done his share. When they left Caithness, he had looked near death. Obviously his mother’s arrival was responsible for Calder’s swift recovery. “Calder, will ye do me a favour and take Gilda and Ainsel up to the Great Hall. I dinnae remember when Gilda last had aught to eat. Ainsel has had next to naught in the way of a meal since we left.”
Rory expected nae quarrel frae his friend. It must be a relief to both him and Gilda that they were back together again, both safe and whole.
“Trust me to take care of them,” he said, stepping betwixt the lasses and gave them both an impudent look as if to defuse the tension that had developed since they jumped frae the dragon-boat, him full of hope and Ainsel with the expectation of seeing Axel. Only one of their hopes seemed like to be fulfilled: Gilda’s, now she was back with Calder. He wondered how she would like living high in the mountains after a life spent by the sea. Rory knew Ainsel would be safe with Calder. Knew she could look after herself, yet it cut at him to let her walk away without him.
Without saying all he needed to say.
That’s why he couldnae let her go without one last touch. Two steps were all it took to place him afore her and he didnae care whau saw as he ran the tip of one finger down the smooth curve of her cheek. “Axel will be safe. My mother will take care of him the way she cared for Calder. And when this is all o’er we’ll go get him, together.”
He saw her open her lips on a protest that Rory stopped with the same finger he had trailed down her cheek. “Go with Calder and stay safe while I make certain ye’re a widow in truth. Ye will feel much better with him dead.”
Ainsel’s eyes were limpid in the starlight, as bonnie as the wee pale-blue flowers that grew around the lochan at Dun Bhuird, and he determined that one day he would take her there. Take her swimming—naked—a promise to himself as he watched her walk away toward the longhouse with Gilda and Calder and thought of them all at Dun Bhuird together. Ainsel would like to have a friend there.
All he could be sure of at the moment was that friend wasnae likely to be his mother.
Chapter 28
She wondered which to do first: laugh, weep, or beat her fists on Rory’s chest. Aye, her grandfather might have asked Kathryn Comlyn to keep Axel safe. She was Rory’s mother. Ainsel had nae problem believing Kathryn saw the same family resemblance in Axel that she saw when she watched Rory and his father together. That wasnae to imply that Rory was stupid. Nae, when he looked at her he just couldnae believe the woman that he had been hinting he’d like to give his heart to would deceive him in that way.
Ainsel could hardly believe it herself … hardly believe this is what she had come to, what Nils had brought her to. Let him try to get her tonight—too late now to hold her grandfather’s life o’er her. She would gladly watch him die by her own hand: a thought to hold fast to as she entered the longhouse where her grandfather lay in state while another dragon-boat was being made ready to set sail on his journey to Walhalla. Ainsel’s breath caught on the lump filling her throat as she looked down on Olaf. The women of the settlement had treated him with honour, dressed him in all the regalia of a Norse Jarl—all but his ring.
Learning Nils had stolen it frae Olaf’s finger while he lay dying set her back teeth grinding, her determination hardening to see him dead afore he dared wear it. She reached out and slipped her hand around her grandfather’s cauld fingers, rubbing her thumb across his thick knuckles. The tears dropping onto the back of her hand made her aware she was crying. She might be a disgrace to her grandfather’s memory; that didnae mean she couldnae feel sorrow for his loss.
Easy to realise now that she might have been trained in the skills of a shield-maiden, trained to kill, but when had she truly put those skills to use? Killed anyone? Not until the Irish attacked. She had been young, Olaf’s granddaughter, privileged, almost a princess when Nils came into her life—handsome, silver-tongued, all she had thought she deserved. The discovery that she was mistaken had come as a huge shock. As for the threat, she should have informed Finn straight away, but the thought of her grandfather being killed had tied her hands. A lack of wisdom had numbed her brain.
Seducing Rory had been her one moment of rebellion.
She was still drowning in regrets when Gilda came up and took her arm. “Come,” she said. “If naught else, ye must eat. Dinnae think I’m not aware how little sleep ye had on the boat. I heard ye and Rory whispering nearly all night.” Her friend kept her hand on Ainsel’s arm, pulling her o’er toward a board and bench where Calder had set out food for them. They settled there close to the fire-pit where the logs gave off a desultory heat. She shivered, uncertain whether it was frae cauld or because her heart had frozen o’er frae all the bad news she had been given and, as icy drops melted frae it, they trickled down her spine.
The bread and sliced venison didnae tempt her; she needed food for her mind, not her belly. She nibbled on a crust of bread while staring at Calder. “Tell me about Kathryn Comlyn.”
Calder lifted his brows. “She’s a Comlyn,” he mumbled o’er the venison he was chewing.
“What am I supposed to make of that?”
“The Comlyn clan ruled the central Highlands for a long, long time until Kathryn’s father, Erik the Bear o’er-reached himself and the McArthur put an end to his reach. I know she thought she should run Dun Bhuird when her father died, but Malcolm Canmore thought otherwise and gave Dun Bhuird to Gavyn Farquhar on the condition that he marry her. I’m told the early results were fiery.”
He stopped to take a mouthful of ale. “Lady Kathryn is a strong woman, but she’s also a grand mother. She willnae harm Axel, after all—”
Blood rushed into her face with the temper that sharpened her tongue. “Gilda, ye told him!“
Her friend pouted. “I love Calder. That means nae secrets,” she told Ainsel, and it came to Ainsel that, though her friend had willingly given herself up to MacLoughlin for her sake, because she had believed Calder was dead, Ainsel was well aware that Gilda’s love for him was greater than that of a friend.
Calder laid his hand flat on the board betwixt her and Gilda. “I willnae tell Rory, yet. Ye must do it by yerself, Ainsel. It isnae fair otherwise. How will ye feel should he discover that he’s the only one whau didnae know about his son. If th
at happens, ye could lose him.”
Was this how it felt when everything in yer life turned upside down and left ye feeling empty? “I will tell him … tomorrow. For now, I need some sleep to give me the strength to do just that. I think I can hear rain, so I’ll go back to my broch now afore it gets heavy.” She ran one hand down the leather short coat, “I’ve been wearing these for days; it’ll be guid to change into something fresh.” She looked back o’er her shoulder to where Olaf lay. “I must find something appropriate for the ceremony. I’m sure it will be one Caithness willnae easily forget.”
Gilda stood and Calder joined her. Within a moment they were all staring at each other across their half-eaten meal. “What about Nils? They have yet to catch him. Mayhap I’d best accompany ye, just to be sure.”
Company was the last thing Ainsel wanted while she searched her conscience. She shook her head. “They’ll have checked the broch. I doubt he would dare go there,” she said, her hand warming the hilt of her sword. In fact, she decided as she left the hall to walk back to her wee broch that it would be only fitting if he were there, then she could kill him herself.
Rory’s fists clenched as he faced his friend. “What’s that ye say, Calder? Ye let her go back to her broch on her own?” He shook his head in derision with a force that spilled his rain-damp hair onto his forehead. The silence his irony met had done naught to appease his anger, and he definitely didnae appreciate the slight smirk on Calder’s face or the glint in his eye.
Chieftain's Rebel Page 22
