Summer Warrior (The Clan Donald Saga Book 1)

by Regan Walker

  From here, he could see down the entire length of the sound in both directions. No ship could pass without his knowing of it. Whoever held this point would control the main routes to the Hebrides and much of Argyll’s jagged coast so favored by the pirates. Control of this place would allow Somerled to strike fast at the Norse raiders who had dominated the sound before he had risen to challenge them.

  “What say you?” his cousin, Domnall, asked, joining them. By his side was Liadan, who Somerled had seen his cousin help down from the galley. Domnall gazed up at the castle. “Is it not grand?”

  “Aye,” said Somerled, looking over his shoulder at the tall keep. “Like a mushroom springing up from damp soil. A good beginning.”

  Maurice reached the top of the rise to stand with them, gazing at the view from the point jutting into the sound.

  Ewan came last, puffing and more slowly given his girth.

  Behind him, Somerled heard his name shouted. He turned to see Ruairi MacInnes coming through the castle door, his young son running in front of him.

  “Are you pleased, Lord?” asked Bran, arriving in front of Somerled and giving Gillecolum a curious look.

  Somerled smiled at the boy. “I am. Did you build it?” he asked in exaggerated wonder.

  “I helped my father,” Bran said, raising his chin. “And I have been practicing with the sword you gave me.”

  Somerled drew his son to him and said to Bran, “You will have to practice with my son, Gillecolum.”

  Bran greeted Gillecolum in friendly fashion. “That would be grand! So much better than my sister.”

  The boys laughed and went off to compare swords.

  Passing the boys, Ruairi extended his hand and Somerled shook it. “We have been wondering when you might get here.”

  “Aye,” said Somerled, “we took time to check on the settlements. I’d introduce you to my son, Gillecolum, but it seems he’s off with Bran.”

  Ruairi said, “I know you have longed to have the boy with you.”

  “Well, we are together now.”

  Maurice stared up at the timber castle. “You did well,” he said to Ruairi.

  “The men have worked hard, and, as you can see, the keep is up but we have yet to add the palisade and some of the outbuildings.” Turning to Somerled, Ruairi said, “The people of Morvern remember all you did for them and are happy to help. I knew your priority was shelter for the men so the keep and the great hall were our first concerns.”

  Somerled nodded. “You were correct. Did the stonemason suggest timber?”

  “Nay, ’twas me. If we began with stone, you would only see a foundation. But, given the timing, the mason agreed we could cover it later in stone.”

  “Aye,” said Ewan, “’twill be easy now that you have the basic castle. That is how my ancestor did it at Castle Sween.”

  Somerled nodded. “We have made a good start on controlling the sound.” Shifting his gaze to the Isle of Mull, he said, “What do you think of a few more castles on the other side?”

  “’Wouldn’t hurt,” said Ruairi. “Mull has frequently been a target of the Norse pirates.”

  Somerled silently agreed. “Is d’Harcourt here?”

  “Nay. Once Liadan’s brother, Diarmad, returned from Moidart, I sent him back there with the stonemason. I did not want to leave here until I was certain the castle was complete for your arrival.”

  Somerled glanced at Liadan, who wore a disappointed look. “Worry not, lass, we’ll catch up with your brother.”

  “Come in out of the wind,” said Ruairi. “I have a map you can use to site your castles and Aileas is preparing refreshments.” As they turned to walk to the castle, Ruairi said, “Ceana is helping her mother or she would have been the first to greet you. She wears that riband you gave her nearly every day, claims it is the color of her eyes.”

  Somerled laughed. “’Tis easy to win a young girl’s heart. The grown ones are more difficult. They take time and much patience. But love that grows slowly is often the surest.”

  Domnall shot a glance at Liadan. She averted her eyes.

  The great hall at Ardtornish—like the hall at Loch Findlugan—smelled of newly cut timber. Trestles and benches, enough for the crew of their two ships and Ruairi’s, filled the hall. The hearth fire burned steadily adding the smell of oaken wood smoke to the air.

  “Are there bedchambers?” Somerled asked.

  “Aye,” said Ruairi. “Above stairs.” He pointed to a narrow set of stairs at the end of the hall.

  “I like it, Father,” said Gillecolum, joining them with Bran in tow. “And it sits high above all.” Somerled knew the boy was comparing the one at Loch Findlugan. Ardtornish might present a grander, more strategic view and its keep more a castle, but Findlugan would be the center of power.

  Somerled draped his arm across his son’s shoulders. “’Twill be one of many, Son. In the next years, God willing, we will see them all.”

  They availed themselves of ale, cheese and kippers, while Ruairi unrolled a hand-drawn map of Argyll and the Isles. Somerled and his companions gathered around to study the places marked off. “From the Mull of Kintyre in the south,” Somerled said, pointing with his dagger, “to Ardnamurchan and Moidart in the north, we will build castles at every critical spot to guard the sea lanes.”

  “That is a great number of castles,” said Maurice.

  Somerled’s brow furrowed. “Aye…” He studied the map, mentally assessing the most critical areas. “At least a dozen, I expect.”

  “Do you really need one in Moidart?” asked Domnall.

  Somerled looked again at the map and remembered the land they spoke of. “Moidart may be wild and untamed yet I believe a castle on the shore of Loch Moidart is essential. ’Twill be an important guard over the small isles and waters south of the Isle of Skye.”

  “All those castles will take years,” said Ewan, “especially if you wish to build in stone.”

  Somerled was undaunted. “Once we have dealt with the Norse raiders and peace reigns in the Isles, we will have time. It must be done, else the pirates will not take seriously our intention to stay and our intention to build—not just castles, but a kingdom.”

  “I believe you will do it,” said Liadan, her pretty face smiling up at him.

  In Somerled’s mind he heard Ragnhild’s words, spoken on the night he’d first introduced himself to her. I believe you will accomplish the task you have set for yourself, Lord Somerled. Melancholy swept over him as he thought of the lass he wanted by his side. He missed her, often pulling the green silk riband she had given him to press it to his lips.

  Shaking off the feeling, he asked Ruairi about Morvern. “Are the people there still committed to the cause?”

  “More than ever. Morvern is yours, Lord. Have no doubt.”

  That evening was well spent in the great hall of the new castle. Somerled, his hosts, his son and companions and the galleys’ crews dined well on the venison the afternoon’s hunt had provided. Aileas had planted a kitchen garden and the herbs that were sufficiently grown to be harvested added flavor to the roasting meat. The meal was simple and hearty and much appreciated.

  Somerled looked at Ruairi over the flickering candle and wondered if he and Aileas wished to return to Kintyre or would prefer to stay here. Angus was the MacInnes chief but Morvern was Ruairi’s home as well. “Ruairi, I can find a man to oversee the building of the castle at Dunaverty if you and Aileas want to remain here.”

  Ruairi cast a knowing look at his wife. They had obviously discussed the possibility. “We have enjoyed our visit here, Lord, but we will be content to return to Dunaverty should that be your decision.”

  “If you still feel the same in the morning, you can sail south to Kintyre and send Angus north to meet me at Moidart where I go to find my wandering stonemason.” They shared a laugh at that for d’Harcourt was a bit of a character.

  By the time dawn cast its golden rays through the narrow window in Somerled’s chamber, he
was up and dressing, eager to be sailing. He’d shared the lord’s chamber with Maurice, Domnall and Gillecolum, who were still asleep on their pallets. Ewan had been given a small chamber of his own. “Wake up you lazy-bones! If we’re to stop on Ardnamurchan’s coast and arrive in Moidart while there is still light, you’d best be moving!”

  His son rubbed his eyes and raised himself on one elbow. “Father?”

  “Aye, Son. Time to rise.” Gillecolum’s gaze took in Somerled fully clothed and jumped from his pallet to struggle into his tunic and hose. “Good lad,” Somerled encouraged him.

  Maurice and Domnall had downed enough ale last evening while laughing at Ruairi’s ill-timed humor and idle tales to keep them dreaming until noon. Ruairi, too, most likely. Somerled would have none of it. The day was young but ’twould not be so for long.

  One brief nudge with his boot to Maurice’s side and a bit of water poured onto Domnall’s face had his companions groaning. “Go away,” moaned Domnall, covering his face with a pillow.

  “I am for breaking my fast,” announced Somerled. “If you two wish to travel with empty bellies, sleep on. But when next called, you had best be ready to sail or your galley will arrive a day behind mine.” Turning to his son, he said, “Come, Gille. Food awaits.”

  Ruairi might be sleeping in, but Aileas was bustling about the hall with servant girls helping her. Ewan MacSuibhne was already diving into a bowl of porridge.

  “Morning, Somerled,” said Ewan as he reached for his ale.

  “And to you,” said Somerled.

  A fire blazed in the hearth against the morning chill. Aileas handed him a bowl. “’Tis porridge with dried berries and hazelnuts. The villagers keep us well supplied.”

  “My thanks,” he said, taking a seat. “The food is much appreciated. I want to get an early start. Is Liadan awake?”

  Aileas smiled. “Aye, she’ll be here in a moment. She’s helping the children dress.” To Gillecolum, she said, “They wanted to join you for the morning meal and see you off.”

  In-between bites, Gillecolum nodded enthusiastically.

  As he turned to his porridge, Somerled asked Aileas, “Did you and Ruairi make a decision as to whether to stay or return to Kintyre?”

  “Aye, we’ll go. We have come to love our cottage on Dunaverty Bay and, with your blessing, Ruairi wants to supervise the castle rising there. We’ll take today to see matters are in good hands here and sail tomorrow.”

  Happy at their choice, Somerled said, “You and Ruairi have done well here. With you two at Dunaverty Bay, I will not worry over that castle.”

  Maurice and Domnall eventually appeared in the hall, bleary-eyed and seeking food.

  “Best eat fast,” said Somerled, with a wink at Aileas. “We sail within the hour.”

  By then, Liadan had returned to the hall and set porridge before the two men, none too gently. “Aye, you’re late.”

  Domnall gave her a remorseful look. To Somerled, it appeared his cousin was pleased she took notice.

  Minutes later, Somerled, Ewan and Gillecolum stepped outside into a windy morning with a gray, cloud-filled sky that made the waters of the sound appear like slate. They walked down to the beach where his crew was just arriving, going about their chores to prepare to sail.

  “Morning,” Somerled said in greeting.

  Several replied with “Morning, Lord.” Their groggy voices told him they were still waking up.

  A sudden movement on the water caught Somerled’s eye. He gazed beyond the beached galley into the sound. Some distance from shore, he glimpsed a longship sailing toward them. From the top of the mast flew the royal standard of Scotland, a red lion rampant on a field of bright yellow.

  Watching the banner wave in the morning wind, a foreboding came over Somerled. He feared he was about to find out how dearly his alliance with the King of Scots would cost him.

  CHAPTER 15

  AS THE LONGSHIP was beached, Somerled recognized the man who jumped over the gunwale and thought him spry for his age. At Irvine, he had met Edward Siwardsson, David’s high constable, an older Anglo-Saxon, whose tall height and fair hair made him appear Norse.

  Siwardsson offered his hand. “I have been chasing you from Islay where I expected to find you, Lord Somerled.”

  Somerled met the man’s strong grip. “Dare I ask why you travel so far to seek me out?”

  “’Tis King David. He sent me to summon you as he prepares for war.”

  Somerled had known the summons from the Scots king would come one day. Yet, now that it was here, his heart sank for all it meant. “Let us retire to the castle where we can discuss your mission.”

  At the castle door, Somerled was met by the rest of his companions and Ruairi. As Ruairi did not know the high constable, Somerled introduced him. “He is here to deliver a message from King David.”

  Maurice exchanged an ominous glance with Somerled and he gave a slight nod.

  Ruairi beckoned them enter and asked a waiting servant to fetch ale. The two children and Gillecolum stood off to one side, their expressions curious.

  The servants brought ale and tankards. Once Somerled and the men claimed seats on the benches at a trestle table, Aileas came forward to inquire if they wanted food. None did.

  Anxious to hear from David’s high constable, Somerled was direct. “Has the king invaded England then?”

  “The situation is ever changing, my lord. Mayhap you did not know that the Empress Maud’s half-brother, the Earl of Gloucester, has risen in open rebellion to Stephen. Other nobles, too. With that good news, in the middle of April, King David crossed the border and captured the Bishop of Durham’s castle at Norham, overlooking the River Tweed. It had a good effect on the northern noble, Eustace Fitz John, who then changed sides and joined David, turning over his castles to us.

  “David is assembling a vast army to accompany his next foray into England. I went first to the Lord of Galloway for he, too, is summoned to come with his Galwegians, some of them already with the king’s men in Scotland. And, from Galloway, I came to you.” The high constable’s eyes, as blue as Somerled’s own, fixed him with an intense gaze. “You will heed the king’s call?”

  Somerled did not hesitate. “Aye. Honor demands it, for I am pledged to do so.”

  “Good. How many of your Highlanders will come, do you think?”

  “At least a thousand, mayhap more. But it will take time to reach them and more time for the warriors to sail south. Only the beach at Loch Indaal on Islay can accept the number of galleys and longships the men of the Isles will bring. And then we’ll need near a sennight to sail to Scotland’s coast. Where are we to meet King David?”

  “His castle at Carlisle in Cumbria. I will await you there. You can sail up the Solway Firth, which is the way I came, and thence to the River Esk. It will take you to the River Eden where the castle sits on its southern bank. Lord Galloway will already be in Scotland with King David, who will be coming from his castle at Roxburgh, gathering men and taking any castles in the hands of the English as he marches south.”

  Somerled knew it to be a huge undertaking but ’twas duty that called and he would not shy from it. “We’ll begin the call to the men of Argyll and the Isles this day.”

  The king’s high constable rose from his bench.

  “Will you stay the night, Lord Siwardsson?” asked Ruairi.

  “Nay, I must return to Carlisle and get a message to David.” Then, offering his hand to Somerled, he said, “The king will be pleased when I tell him of your response.”

  Aileas must have anticipated his departure for she came and thrust a package into Siwardsson’s hands. “Food for you and your crew, my lord. You’ve a long way to go.”

  “My thanks, my lady.” He took the package and, inclining his head, turned to leave.

  Somerled followed him to the door. “Godspeed, my lord.”

  “And to you!”

  When the high constable had gone, Somerled turned back to Ruairi and his co
mpanions. “There is much to do and little time to do it. Domnall, you will sail north to Moidart and sound the call ere you return to Islay. Tell Diarmad to remain in the north with the stonemason unless our French mason has seen enough and wishes to sail to Kintyre where the castle at Dunaverty has begun. Ruairi, you will sail to Kintyre, as planned, stopping at Knapdale and Jura to issue the summons there. Once at Dunaverty, you must get word to the men on Arran and Bute to join you as you sail to meet me on Islay. I will return to Islay, stopping at Mull and Lorne to sound the call. Tell all the galley and longship captains they are to set sail for Loch Indaal and camp on the beach there. And, if any can spare healers, they should bring them. We will likely have need of their skills.” He paused, looking at each somber face. “Any questions?”

  Ruairi, Domnall, Maurice and Ewan shook their heads.

  Liadan raised her gaze to him. “What about me, Lord?”

  “You will accompany me to Islay where you will stay until we return from our service to King David.”

  “But—” Her expression was forlorn mixed with rebellion but Domnall visibly relaxed when Somerled told her his decision was firm.

  “I will not risk your life in this war, lass, no matter how well you fight. Your brother would have my head. Besides, I need you to prepare a healing area in the great hall for any wounded we bring back with us. The women of Keills can assist you for their men will join us as we sail to Carlisle.”

  Liadan raised her head. “Aye, Lord, I will do it.”

  “And me, Father?” asked Gillecolum.

  “You will also sail with me to Islay, Gille, to help Liadan.”

  His son nodded, no regret in his eyes. Mayhap he understood that the battle they headed to was not a place for a youth.

  Ruairi turned to his children. “You will come with your mother and me to Kintyre where you will await my return.”

  The instructions issued, all but Ruari and his family departed, for they would sail the next day.

  The North Shore of Loch Indaal, Isle of Islay

  ON A PARTICULARLY WARM afternoon in June, Somerled stood above the shore at Loch Indaal seeing a sight he had only imagined before. The wide crescent of sandy beach that caressed the azure waters of the great sea loch was filled with galleys and longships, at least thirty, and more coming. He had imagined this scene of his Highlanders and Islesmen gathering but he did not think it would happen so soon or for such a cause. That so many would rally to his call for a war that was not theirs made his throat tighten and his eyes fill with unshed tears.