Summer Warrior (The Clan Donald Saga Book 1)

by Regan Walker

  “Sail ho!” called out one of her father’s crew.

  She shifted her gaze to the north where a galley with a red sail was rounding Mull, heading toward them. Somerled’s ship?

  “I know that galley,” said her father. “’Tis Lord Somerled’s, or one of his, with that strange rudder in the stern.”

  When the galley drew close, Somerled waved. “Hail, King Olaf!”

  “Have we sailed to your front door, Lord Somerled?” asked her father in an amused tone.

  “Nearly so,” Somerled answered back. “I come from my new castle at Ardtornish, timber now but one day stone. Where are you bound?”

  The ships were alongside each other now. Her father leaned against the gunwale, his head just peeking over the rail. “We sail to Skye. Join us!”

  “Aye, I might,” came Somerled’s reply. “What say you to sojourning tonight with me at Ardtornish? We’ve a banquet’s fare if you are hungry.”

  Ragnhild observed her father hesitating. “Why not accept, Father? Skye is too far to reach in what is left of the day and I would like to see his castle.”

  Olaf nodded and leaned back to Somerled. “Very well, we accept.”

  “Excellent! Follow me into the sound. You can anchor off the point and ride my galley to the shingle.” He gave Ragnhild a quick glance before ordering his men to row for the sound. She knew the minute their eyes met that he had planned this interception and the evening to follow.

  SOMERLED HAD THOUGHT of a way to force the King of Man into finally consenting to his request for Ragnhild’s hand but as yet, he’d divulged it to no one. Now that King Olaf and his daughter were settled by the hearth fire and the crew of Olaf’s longship was enjoying ale at one of the trestles, he enlisted his brother, his cousin and Maurice in his cause. Even his son.

  “Gillecolum, go speak to the princess and her father. Make sure they are comfortable and let them know I will be with them shortly.” He was certain the lad would charm them both. “Liadan, make sure the cook is preparing a feast fit for a king. Even the men who row Olaf’s ship and those who keep watch will dine well. The ale must flow freely for I do not want their senses sharp this night.”

  “And for us?” asked Domnall.

  Maurice and Angus, too, gave Somerled an inquiring look.

  He had already made sure the lord’s bedchamber was ready for Olaf and another prepared for the princess. “While the king and his men sleep, just before dawn, I need you to alter the King of Man’s longship.”

  A sly smile grew on Maurice’s face. “Does this have anything to do with the extra tallow and butter you asked for earlier?”

  “Aye. I need you to bore holes in his hull, sufficient to make him think he is sinking. Put most of the holes in the bow so the forward motion of the ship drives out the plugs and drives in the water. Make sure we can reinsert the plugs with pitch to make the ship seaworthy again. Meanwhile, stuff the holes with butter and tallow. As he departs on the morrow, I will follow them out of the sound. Maurice, you and Angus will sail with me. Domnall and Diarmad will follow in the two other ships. Rounding Ardnamurchan, where the wind and waves have been at odds, the tallow and butter will be forced free.”

  “Suddenly, all is clear,” said Domnall. “You will require the hand of the princess as a condition of coming to their rescue.”

  “Aye. Just so.”

  “You take a great risk,” said Maurice. “Even if he agrees and we can reinsert the plugs, there is much that can go wrong. Or he may consent and, later, be angered and recant, not to mention the anger of the princess.”

  “I have considered that. And you are right. But I believe he will give me what I ask. And I am convinced the princess wants our marriage. My crew will be prepared to save all if need be and I have enough longships to replace the one we damage if it comes to that.”

  “Why not just ply him with wine at dinner and when he is in high spirits, ask for her hand?” asked Angus. “Would that not be simpler?”

  “I have asked for her hand more than once but, aye, I will do so again tonight, for I want him to know I first asked fairly with honor. But if he resists, as he has on other occasions, then our plan will proceed.”

  “’Tis your funeral, Brother,” said Angus, “but we are with you.”

  “Lord knows you have led us into stranger ventures,” said Domnall.

  Maurice smiled again. “I rather like it.”

  The dinner had taken some forethought but, in the end, the roast venison, fresh trout and Liadan’s instructions to the cook as to how to use herbs for seasoning made for a succulent feast. The bread, too, was fresh and hot. He had to pry a case of wine free from his French stonemason with a promise to invite him to the wedding if he was successful but it had been worth it. And the local bard was paid well enough to bring a few of his friends with instruments for music.

  The evening proceeded well with everyone enjoying themselves. Somerled would have liked to spend all of it with Ragnhild but tonight was for her father. If he succeeded, he and Ragnhild would have a lifetime together.

  Olaf took a long draw on his wine, having indulged in several helpings of food. “You set a fine feast in this new castle of yours, Lord Somerled.”

  “It commands a grand view of the sound,” put in Ragnhild.

  “One day, the timber will be covered in stone,” Somerled replied, “but with so many castles to build, in some places, such as Ardtornish, we build first in timber to quickly gain a stronghold.”

  “I must commend you for you are a man of your word,” said the king. “As you once promised, now you deliver.”

  Somerled had arranged for Liadan to ask Ragnhild if she would like to see the night sky and, once dinner was finished, the princess was quick to agree and the two women left the castle.

  “Now that we are alone, or nearly so,” said Somerled, for Olaf’s men were enjoying themselves at a nearby trestle with Somerled’s men challenging them to a dice game, “I would ask again for the hand of the princess.”

  Olaf sat back and smiled. “Predictable, yet rewarding to know you are so constant.”

  “You have no idea.” Somerled waited, hoping the king would make his plan unnecessary.

  Olaf turned his goblet in his hand. “Sail with me to Skye and, after that, we can discuss this further.”

  Somerled did not trust Olaf, for he knew the King of Man planned to sail to Orkney. He called for more wine to fill Olaf’s empty goblet. “I will gladly accompany you to Skye, for the isle has always interested me as a place where the Norse pirates build their longships, but I would have your answer first.”

  “Alas, you must wait,” said the king. “As for the building of Norse dragonships, rumor has reached me that my tenant, Leod, is turning a blind eye to MacLier in Strath who may be about such business. If true, I will have harsh words for Leod and soon see MacLier gone from Skye.”

  The castle door opened and Ragnhild and Liadan entered, their cheeks rosy from the night air, their words full of wonder at the stars they had glimpsed. “So many!” exclaimed Ragnhild. “And a shooting star, too! Oh, Father, you should have seen it.” She tossed Somerled a smile full of promise and his heart responded, such was her effect upon him.

  The king rose from the table. “I think ’tis time for me to retire. I thank you, Somerled, for your gracious hospitality. ’Twas a delightful evening. Now, I would seek my bed for we’ve a day’s sail ahead on the morrow.”

  Somerled let out a sigh. So be it. With Olaf preceding them, Somerled walked the princess to the stairs. He paused at the bottom stair and she turned to look at him. “Princess, can you swim?”

  “What an odd question, my lord! Of course, I can swim. You need ask when you know I grew up on an island?”

  “I wanted to be sure. I would not want you flailing about in the water should a wave wash you off your father’s ship.”

  She laughed and then whispered, “You do care…”

  “Aye, I do. And, know this, what I do on the morrow
I do for us. Trust me no matter what happens.”

  She paused and blinked. Before she could ask, he wished her good night and turned to rejoin his men.

  He did not sleep above stairs that night, but with his men and Olaf’s in the great hall. He wanted to make sure they were prepared for the sail to Skye with their weapons ready. “Liadan may come, if you permit, Diarmad, for the princess will be aboard her father’s ship. If there is trouble on Skye, I would ask your sister to guard my lady.”

  “Aye, she’ll come,” said Diarmad, his auburn hair and gray eyes so like his sister’s. “’Twould be difficult to hold her back.”

  Near dawn, Somerled woke his companions and they set out for the shore.

  RAGNHILD SLEPT WELL in the chamber assigned to her in Somerled’s new castle. She paid no mind to the smell of new oak wood. It was a welcome change from the cold, damp stone of Castle Rushen that could be musty after a rain. If she were his wife, she considered happily, she might dwell in many such castles of timber.

  She awoke as shafts of sunlight fell across her face, warmed at the thought Somerled was in this place with her, even if not lying next to her. That thought brought a smile to her face. She recalled Somerled’s last words. He was planning something for them, something that would require her trust. What does he intend to do?

  The morning passed without issue. Liadan came to help her dress, which she appreciated for her laces would be tighter for the lass’s assistance. “I should have some gowns made like yours,” she told the young woman. “They would be easier to don without my handmaiden.”

  “No matter, my lady, I am happy to help.”

  “Have you been with Somerled long?” she asked, curious to know more.

  Pulling the laces tight, Liadan said, “Since he saved my village of Keills from the Norse pirates. I offered him my sword to guard his back and my eyes and ears as his spy. It is an honor to serve him.”

  Ragnhild could well imagine Liadan would be grateful after Somerled had saved her village, but a sword? “You can wield a sword?”

  The beautiful girl fingered one of her long auburn plaits, then smiled. “I can,” she said proudly, “though not dressed like this.” She looked down at her blue bliaut. “My brother Diarmad, who sails for Lord Somerled, taught me to use a blade when I was young.”

  The girl was only a year or two younger than Ragnhild. Still, she appeared wiser in some ways and less worldly in others. “I am sure Somerled values your presence.”

  “He is very fond of you, my lady.”

  She smiled. “I do hope so.”

  After a meal of herring, bread and berries to strengthen them for the voyage, her father helped her climb onto his longship and set off with Somerled’s two galleys and a longship accompanying them. Her father told her while they ate that Somerled was going to sail with them to Skye.

  It was windy on the Sound of Mull as they sailed northwest toward the open sea, causing Ragnhild’s cloak to whip around her as she stood at the gunwale in the bow of the ship.

  They had just turned due north to round Ardnamurchan, heading toward the small Isles of Rum and Eigg, when the ship began to slow, falling behind Somerled’s galley. The captain shouted orders to ease the sail to let it flag and then trim it to capture the wind. It did not help. The ship seemed to become heavier, more sluggish, as it wallowed and rolled, going nowhere.

  Water from the hold suddenly came surging up through the deck boards.

  Alarmed, the captain shouted, “Sire! We are sinking!”

  Where Ragnhild stood in the bow, shivering, the water was deeper, now climbing up her legs to her knees. Her gown was sodden but she had gathered her cloak to her waist, realizing of a sudden why Somerled had asked if she could swim. He had also told her to trust him and she would.

  Her father, standing amidships, fighting to keep his balance in the rising water, shouted to Somerled, “Save us, for we are sinking!”

  “Do not fear, King Olaf, I will save you. But first, I must have your vow to give me Ragnhild’s hand.”

  Her father turned to her with furrowed brow. “What is this?”

  “I do not know, Father, but I tell you now, I would be happy to be Somerled’s bride.”

  Her father looked aghast at the water rising around him, panic on his face for he was so much shorter than the others. Then in a stern voice, he said, “Very well, Daughter, you have sealed your fate.” To Somerled, he cried, “I like not what must be your treachery, but I agree. You have my word to give you my daughter in marriage. Now, Christ on the Cross, save us!”

  Somerled promptly brought his ship alongside and took her, her father and all his men aboard while Maurice, Somerled’s brother and a member of Somerled’s crew scurried onto her father’s ship with tools and buckets in hand.

  “Your ship will be fine in no time, Olaf,” said Maurice, beaming at her father who huddled, shivering on Somerled’s deck. “Still, it could have been so much simpler if you had just agreed to my lord’s request the first time he made it long ago.”

  Ragnhild heard the words on the wind and rejoiced. Somerled had asked for her hand “long ago”?

  Once she was secure on Somerled’s ship, he replaced her mantle with his own and took her in his arms. Ignoring his watching crew and those of his other ships whose crews cheered loudly at their lord’s boldness, he kissed her. The cheers grew louder.

  His piercing blue eyes softened as he pulled back and met her gaze. “I love you, Princess. I told you once my intentions were honorable and I am ever constant once my heart is given. There is no other woman for me and never will be.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and returned his kiss in full measure. “My heart is yours, Somerled.”

  Disgruntled at what had been done to his ship, her father grunted as he shed his sodden mantle. “I should have realized this day would come.”

  “I’ve other longships from which you may choose, King Olaf, should you want another,” said Somerled. “But as I told you when we met at Irvine, I had no intention of forsaking my quest to make Ragnhild mine. ’Tis well you have finally given me her hand, else I might have been tempted to abduct her, for patience has its end and I have waited long for this moment.”

  Olaf gave Ragnhild an accusing look. She did not shrink from it. Instead, she smiled up at Somerled and he tightened his arm around her.

  Beneath his bushy red brows, her father regarded Somerled. “I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain. You will fight with me when there is a need and there may very well be when we get to Skye.”

  “Aye,” said Somerled, “why do you think I brought three ships? I promised you such an alliance from the beginning.”

  CHAPTER 19

  The south coast of Skye, October 1138

  SOMERLED AND OLAF agreed to sail along the southwest coast of Skye where pirates seeking to hide their shipbuilding would find safe harbors in the many coves cut into the jagged coast. The Norse called Skye the misty isle, which was true enough from Somerled’s trips to that part of the Hebrides. Though, today, the isle was favored with full sun, he had most often viewed its Black Cuillin Hills shrouded in a cloud-like mist.

  Reports had reached Somerled some time ago that suggested Norse pirates were using the isle as a base to build dragonships. Though Skye was one of the isles in Olaf’s Kingdom of Man, Somerled doubted the king visited often. And while Olaf thought to issue any pirates on Skye a command to leave, Somerled was convinced they would not go easily.

  Somerled was pleased Ragnhild had decided to remain on his galley where he could protect her. She had retrieved her bow and quiver of arrows and stood next to Liadan in the bow. He had already spoken to the two women to make sure they stayed out of any battle that might ensue. “If we meet trouble on Skye,” Somerled told Liadan, “you and Ragnhild stay in the bow.” The bow was the least vulnerable part of a ship, the stem higher and more difficult to break through. “You will be safer there and I will leave Maurice to stand guard but, if he fall
s or needs help, unless I can break free, Ragnhild’s safety is yours to guard.”

  As he knew she would, Liadan had taken her responsibility seriously. “Aye, lord, I will guard her with my life.”

  Olaf sailed on his own longship, now bailed out and made seaworthy under the careful direction of Maurice MacNeill.

  Angus and Maurice sailed with Somerled but Diarmad commanded his own galley and Domnall acted as captain of one of Somerled’s longships. Between Somerled and his companions, they had nearly one hundred men to add to Olaf’s forty.

  It was as Somerled passed the Sleat peninsula and entered the sea loch called Slapin that he caught sight of two dragonships on the loch’s western shore. He gave the order to douse sail and his men took to the oars, rowing closer. A few warriors in chainmail and conical helms could be seen guarding the dragonships riding at anchor near shore. On the beach, Norsemen engaged in building longships swarmed like bees around three half-built hulls.

  Somerled’s ships drew nearer and were spotted by the Norsemen standing guard, who shouted to the men onshore. The pirates dropped what they were doing, grabbed their weapons and, splashing through the shallows, rushed to the dragonships.

  By this time, the four ships with Somerled and Olaf were coming alongside the pirates’ ships.

  “Ready your bows!” shouted Somerled, as he raised his own. Olaf’s warriors, a few of them in mail like Olaf, joined Somerled’s men, obeying the order as one. “Draw!” His men drew back the strings. When the Norsemen running from shore were within range, he cried, “Loose!”

  Arrows hissed through the air and found targets in the Norsemen attempting to climb onto their ships. Many fell into the water but those following them took refuge behind their shields and ran on.

  “Prepare the grappling hooks!” Somerled called out to his ship captains.

  Grapnels flew through the air, snagging the gunwales of the Norse ships. The men pulled the ropes tight, lashing the ships together, forming a more stable footing from which to fight. The four ships commanded by Somerled and Olaf had the dragonships surrounded.