He ne’er said another word and neither did Ainsel. They simply turned in the direction of the longhouse and resumed walking.
Chapter 30
All the Scots stayed until the day when Finn gathered the heads of each family living in the settlement together and, betwixt them, they carried Olaf aboard his dragon-boat. Once on board, they laid the auld Jarl with all ceremony on his funeral pyre and left him there.
Ghillie had ne’er seen a being appear so alone—even in death—dressed in all his finery with nae place to go. Of course they thought differently, those of the Norse. Olaf was taking a long journey, one they all hoped to take someday, to Walhalla. Typically Norse, the thought of the Valkyries didnae alarm them the way it would Ghillie.
It had been a long day. Twilight was upon them, aglitter with stars that didnae even attempt to compete with the torches everyone carried, aye even him, yet one was very conscious of them floating in the skies above. Ghillie looked up at the stars through the pale smoke-haze drifting o’erhead frae the burning torches. Heimdall didnae like the smoke and flew away, circling above the ring of tall stones, the way he sometimes did when he was disturbed, as if sensing the direction the gods had set them on had gone a bit awry.
A truth obvious to all in the settlement, since ye would have to be blind not to know that Rory and Ainsel werenae speaking to each other. Matters had appeared to be out of sorts betwixt the pair of them when they had returned to the Great Hall two days ago with the glad news that Nils was dead. Glad to the rest of the settlement, at least, for ye wouldnae think it to look at Rory and Ainsel’s expressions. As the dragon-boat eased out into the Ness, the torchbearers carried the pitch-tipped brands high o’er head, their helms and arm bands glinting as they chanted a loud farewell, so different frae the melancholy lament of the pibroch floating down frae the battlements as the day died, the way they mourned the dead at Cragenlaw. Even so, it still plucked at the heartstrings.
At the front of the crowd, Finn stood, bow in hand, while a mere pace away Ainsel accompanied him in the family farewell, and Ghillie wondered whether she thought of Axel and the way Olaf had loved the bairn, and if the wee one would e’er remember him. She turned her head to look at Finn as he stretched the bowstring, the way his knuckles brushed his cheek, with Olaf’s ring flashing gold in the torchlight. Ghillie remembered the expression—near enough to tears—on Finn’s face when Rory handed him the ring he had retrieved frae Nils. Then they were all watching the fire-arrow arc through the haze, trailing smoke as it flew and finally landed amongst the piles of wood. For a moment, Ghillie thought Finn might have to shoot another fire-arrow, then the pine-pitch caught alight with a whoosh that could be heard frae the shore. Like the boat they had aimed at the invaders’ vessels, it lit up the waters of the Ness in red and gold.
Soon the shoreline was awash in light and noise, swords banged against shields and war cries filled the air—a show well deserved by the auld Jarl.
Watching Finn, Ghillie was aware the auld Jarl’s grandson had assumed a new stature that would stand him in guid stead, for Finn’s days as Jarl would last as long as his grandfather’s.
Tomorrow they would leave for Dun Bhuird, Ainsel chafing at the bit to see Axel, and Rory ignoring her, wrapped up his own thoughts.
Aye, Ghillie could have told Rory about the bairn, but that wasnae the part the gods had given him to play in the shaping of Scotland’s future.
She had always known her grandfather’s time was getting closer, had dreaded the day and now it was here. Ainsel watched the boat taking her grandfather away to Walhalla, watched it go up in flames. That’s how it was done. She hadnae imagined it happening this way, hadnae known that she would feel responsible. Inside her head, she wanted to scream and shout, sob wildly, act crazed, as the tears ran down her face. That’s what Olaf deserved, instead she felt dead inside, numb.
She had lost everything, her grandfather, her son, Rory. He hadnae spoken to her since that night. What had she been thinking? Nae wonder he had rounded on her with that look in his eyes, the look she couldnae describe—horror, and an eternity of heartfelt disgust at her. Nae wonder. Frightened, she had treated the telling of him as if it were naught but a jest, but neither of them was laughing.
Tomorrow they were leaving Caithness, every last one of the Scots, as well as Gilda and herself. She had screwed up her courage, determined go with them, to be a part of the travellers. Rory on the other hand hadnae said a word to her about accompanying him. Hadnae flung a word in her direction since she hit him. That’s why she had decided to speak with his father. “Yer wife has taken my son, and I’m coming with ye to get him back.”
She stuck out her chin to assure him she wasnae taking nae for an answer and in reply she received a lift of his brows that stretched the scar marring his handsome face, then he said, “Seems to me it’s Rory ye should be talking to.”
“I should imagine we’ll have plenty of time on the journey to talk … eventually.”
“Godsend ye guid fortune with that goal. Once he has made up his mind, Rory will go his own road nae matter what. I forbade him to come to Caithness because of the impending trouble, but he rebelled and came anyway.” He looked her up and down his expression droll. “I believe there was a lass involved.” He turned away, and when she went to do likewise she heard him say, “We’re leaving at dawn. Best get some sleep.”
Guid advice, but she didnae take it. There was much to do afore she left, and by dawn her mount was saddled and a couple of leather bags with necessities for both her and Axel looped behind her saddle. As she had packed them last night, she had pictured Axel, wondered how he was, whether he missed her the way she missed him. Suddenly the tears she couldnae spill for her grandfather began to flow, and sobs bubbled up in her chest and spilled out of her mouth. Axel had been his wee star, and she had wondered how he could send him away as he had. Her meeting with Nils after all yon months had solved that conundrum. How foolish to believe her grandfather would love Axel the way he had and not recognise that there was nary a drop of Nils’s blood in her son’s veins.
Finn at least wasnae surprised to see her ready to leave. He had a dull, distant look in his eyes, as if this was the last time he would see her, and she resolved to ne’er let that happen. When the others arrived to farewell her brother and saw her there, her mount ready to travel, Rory’s expression could only be described as a glower.
Gilda was delighted. “I wasnae sure if ye would come with us. Calder says he has ne’er seen Rory acting so dour, says that for the first time since he’s known him, he would be justified in comparing Rory to his grandfather, Erik the Bear. Sometimes we forget it’s not only our father’s blood that runs in our veins.” She squeezed Ainsel’s hand. “Calder probably doesnae feel as bad as ye look, but he did know about Axel, for I told him. Now he feels guilty. I hate to see him so quiet and withdrawn. Betwixt them, they make a fine pair. If only everything hadnae been so complicated…” Gilda’s voice trailed off, not because she had nae more to say, just that she didnae know how to say the words.
“Ye must not take my faults on yer own shoulders, and dinnae worry. Calder will get o’er his mood, and Rory’s huff will evaporate. They’re lifelong friends, the way we are, and Calder’s blunder fades in comparison to mine. I dinnae believe Rory will ever forgive me. He was so angry, and then I made matters worse by punching him.”
Gilda’s gasp became a splutter as she said, “You hit him?”
“He deserved to be punched. In fact, I would have slapped his cheek if he hadnae been holding my shoulders so hard I couldnae reach his face, just his ribs.” She paused to stare down at her hand. “He shouldnae have manhandled me. All I could think of was Nils. It didnae matter that I knew he was lying outside my broch dead. My mind was filled with the expression on his face when he used to beat me, the faked displeasure on his features. Next thing I knew my fist was aching frae punching his ribs. But at least it was proof that I’ll let nae man hit me again,” she said,
while her thoughts whispered, not even if I love him heart and soul.
Rory wasnae surprised to see Ainsel with her horse saddled, ready to join them. His first instinct had been to smile. Not because he had forgiven her; nae it would take much more than the sight of her bonnie face for that to happen. For that reason alone, he lowered his brows and squinted at her frae under them. With all the misunderstandings surrounding them—starting frae the first night they met—he hadnae dared imagine her coming to Dun Bhuird with any great certainty or hope.
He should have realised she would ne’er leave Axel with strangers.
Aye, she would come with them to get her son—their son.
She had hurt him, and not with the wee bunched up fist she had slammed into his gut. Nae it was her news and the method she used to deliver it that had left him feeling as if the skin had been flayed off his bones.
Mayhap it wouldnae have hurt so much if he hadnae loved her with everything that was in him. Now where were they?
Stuck.
It was a problem he could ne’er imagine being solved. All he knew for certain was that once she got to Dun Bhuird, he had nae intention of letting her leave with Axel.
His son.
Rory’s gut twisted every time he remembered holding the bairn in his arms, ne’er knowing the lad was his. If aught made his heart bleed it was that.
There was a lesson that needed learning here by both him and Ainsel, and when he figured it out, he would make certain she did too. With that he nudged his heels against his mount’s flank and rode ahead to join his father at the front of a line of riders strung out along the narrow track.
His father acknowledged him with a look. “Ainsel’s coming with us,” Rory told him.
“Aye, she said as much last night.”
Gavyn said it so indifferently that Rory leaned back in the saddle, shocked at his father’s lack of concern. “Ye know she is determined to take Axel back to Caithness. He’s my son—yer grandson—and I for one am not of a mind to let her do that.”
“Is that right? What about the lass? Do ye want her as well as the bairn? For the way I look at it, if the bairn’s yer son, then the lass is yer responsibility, same as the lad.”
They ambled up the brae Rory had ridden down well o’er a week ago, filled with optimism that he would find the lass he sought. Fool that he was, he hadnae thought much farther than finding her. “She kept the truth frae me. How am I supposed to trust her?”
Rory hated when his father gave him the look that said he was disappointed in him. It was all right for Gavyn Farquhar with years of experiences under his belt, fighting for King Malcolm then in France. “Mayhap ye should make an attempt to get to know her, then. When ye ask her why she didnae tell ye about yer son, all might become clearer. Frae what I saw in Orkney, and after, when ye got off the boat, ye couldnae keep yer eyes or yer hands off her. So why are ye surprised that a lass ye first slept with a year ago might have had yer bairn?”
Trust his father to get to the heart of the matter. “That’s because I wasnae aware they were the same lass,” he spat out the confession, but then he ne’er could keep much frae Gavyn. Until now his only reason for disobeying him was to return to Caithness to find the lass he couldnae forget, and now he knew what happened when he lied to his father.
Calder finished up riding with Rory, mounts side by side as they always did. Rory was like his brother. They had fought together, wenched together, done all the carousing that was expected of a young warrior. Yon days were o’er the moment he met Gilda last year, and though it burned a hole in his gut, he had to be honest with Rory. “Gilda told me about Axel but swore me to keep my silence and leave Ainsel to tell ye the truth.”
Rory glowered at him, as if the expression on his face had become permanent. “I always thought it would take more than a mere lass to come betwixt us—something huge.” His eyebrows rose as if to emphasis the size. “It would appear I was wrong.”
Calder’s breath left his lungs in a short, sharp burst of derision. “Dinnae give me that. Ye’re nae better than me. Did ye believe I wouldnae recognise yearning when I saw it? Of course I did, for I felt the pain of longing myself. But I dinnae recognise the man riding with me, looking as if the bottom’s fallen out of his world. She’s here. She’s riding with us. Yer the man. Do something to sort it out and get o’er yer grumpy mood. Are ye blaming yerself because ye didnae recognise her again when we arrived?”
“How could I recognise her when I ne’er saw her. It was dark, and by dawn she had left me sleeping amongst the heather. All I remembered was her scent, like honey and thyme. And aye, I was drawn to Ainsel frae the moment I saw her, but I couldnae get the other lass out of my head. Besides, Ainsel doesnae smell of honey and thyme, she smells of warm breast milk—tastes of it too.”
Calder watched Rory lick his lips and let out a groan tangled with laughter as he pointed at Rory. He was canny enough to lower his voice as he gurgled out, “Ye mean to say ye supped frae her? Did ye know how lucky ye are? She wouldnae have done that if she hadnae trusted ye.”
“Huh. Trusted, ye say—just not enough to tell me the truth.”
The laughter dried up in Calder’s throat. He knew how serious the situation could become if naught was done about it soon. He studied Rory’s face, the serious mien that could become permanent if someone didnae give Rory a push in the right direction. “Mayhap ye need to think on why she didnae mention what had happened. I doubt if she ever expected to see ye again. Last year, everyone believed her to be a married woman, and not a lassie with any inclination to cheat on her husband. Then she became a widow with a child. How could she tell the settlement, ‘nae the bairn isnae my husband’s’ without losing face for herself and her family?”
Rory barked at him, “I expect all this sudden wisdom comes frae Gilda.”
“As a matter of fact, it has naught to do with the lass I want to wed. I have a mind of my own and was given plenty of time to use it while I was laid up half-dead and the rest of ye were off gallivanting to Orkney.” The conversation was deteriorating, Calder handled what he considered Rory’s insult as well as he could when his friendship was at stake, and his nose and face felt pinched as if a cauld had blown betwixt him and Rory.
“Happen yer right. I’ve been coddling my hurts, brooding, without looking any farther than how I felt, without taking time to learn what her life would have been if she had told the truth. I’m not stupid, even though I’ve been acting as if I am.” Rory sucked in a deep breath as if letting the fresh air into his mind. “If Nils had found out, I’m certain he would have killed her, and the bairn. Until now I’d only got round to being pleased with the knowledge that yon brute can nae longer claim Axel as his son. What if all this hadnae happened, if Nils ne’er went to Ireland—I dread to think of the life Axel would have lived. Mayhap Ghillie is right to dump all that has come to pass in the lap of the auld gods.”
“Aye,” agreed Calder. “Surely they have not put us through all this strife without some end in mind. We’re both still alive, yet I nearly died frae drowning and Nils would have taken yer head off if the lightning hadnae given him exactly what he deserved. That has to be some comfort, knowing they dinnae intend to let us die yet.”
Rory agreed with a nod of his head and Calder noticed him cast a swift glance o’er his shoulder to where the lasses and Ghillie rode together. “That must be it, Calder. Nae point in moaning about what might have been. We must needs take what we’re given and make the best of it. What do ye think?”
“I agree. Happen it was time ye made a start,” he said, and the words were hardly out of Calder’s mouth when Rory tugged on his horse’s reigns and sent it wheeling round afore riding back along the line to where the lasses rode.
It was a comfort to Calder to imagine he might have had some influence on Rory settling his differences with Ainsel, but now he had other matters to think about, such as sleeping in the heather, he and Gilda wrapped in his plaid for the night.
; Now that was a real comfort.
Chapter 31
Their position in the now straggling line of horses was slightly behind the centre. Ainsel didnae care; the ground was still damp frae the storm so that she and Gilda werenae o’er much bothered by dust. Ghillie said they nae longer trusted women to ride at the rear since Maggie McArthur wandered off the path on the way home to Cragenlaw. “She did find herself a husband, though,” he told them with obvious enjoyment. “Robertson of Sgian, and that after her turning up her nose at every other man the McArthur paraded afore her, so I suppose he couldnae complain. That’s him at the rear with Jamie Ruthven. I was surprised Maggie didnae come with the others, but when I mentioned it my father made one of those faces men adopt when talking of some women’s problems. As if being with child made her sick. My father is slightly auld fashioned.”
Ainsel and Gilda smiled at each other. Nae matter how Ghillie spoke, he wasnae very auld compared to the rest of them travelling to Dun Bhuird. As her grandfather had been wont to say, ‘an auld head on young shoulders’.
“But yerself, Ghillie, ye have nae such qualms,” Ainsel teased.
“I don’t. I like to know at least a wee bit about most things. How can I understand what the gods want of us otherwise?” he told them as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and she supposed that to him it was.
Ainsel wondered what the gods thought about her and Rory, and with that thought in mind, she looked up and saw him riding against the flow towards them. Against all reason, her heart lifted at the sight of him and thrilled to an emotion only Rory could wring out of her—not love but hope, which flared for nae reason she could put a name to. If only the expression on his face could be described as aught but dour.
“I’d like a word with Ainsel if ye dinnae mind.” His gaze took in the other two for a moment then turned on her. “Come with me to the end of the line.”
Chieftain's Rebel Page 24
