Chapter Four #2
“You cannae much blame her,” he relented after I told him where she had wandered off to. “This has all been a lot for her, too, son, and time alone in her cottage with a good friend must have been comforting.”
“And foolish,” I grunted, seeing only the harm that might have befallen her. The wounds that may have been inflicted on her soft flesh. Her cries of anguish if she’d happened upon those who saw her as the enemy. “’Twas verra much foolish.”
“Yet you were there to protect her,” my father reminded, watching me in that way he could sometimes, as if he understood me better than I did. “Just as I suspect, one way or another, you always will be.”
“Of course I will,” I assured him, noting how he pushed the food around on his plate now rather than eating. “She will be kin. Your wife.”
“Mayhap,” he said softly. “If God wills it.”
Not liking the sound of that, I frowned, looking from his uneaten food to his face. “What is it, Da? Is it nae to your liking?”
“’Tis fine,” he assured, sipping his mead instead. “I’m just not verra hungry, is all.” Worry furrowed his brow. “I plan on letting the king know I will be marrying Astrid on the morrow.” He shook his head. “I dinnae think we should put this off any longer.”
“Now that you’re getting better and I need not marry her, I think ‘tis a good idea,” I agreed, even though I found his change of heart odd. Then again, perhaps improved health changed his perspective. “I would imagine the king will agree, given who she is.”
“We can only hope,” he said, his expression remaining troubled.
“Do you imagine he would take issue with your marrying her?” Alarmed by that, considering who the king traveled with, I frowned. “That he would rather have her married to someone else?”
While Alexander would likely want more say if it were a marriage between Scottish royals, this was a different situation altogether.
Had Astrid been the daughter of the Norwegian king, mayhap, but she was here on a more diplomatic front, seeing that she could speak the various dialects in these parts.
She’d also initially been here for an advantageous marriage to a chieftain before things escalated between the countries, and I could only hope that still proved true despite my feelings about the Norse.
“Honestly, ‘tis hard to know where King Alexander’s mind dwells after the Battle of Largs,” Father replied.
“Truth told, I’d hoped he would not visit us so soon, but then nothing seems to be going quite how I had hoped since nearly drowning.
As you’re aware, I was a good friend of his father, and you and I have both known Alexander since he was a boy, so ‘tis our longstanding connection that I pray carries weight.”
Not liking the sound of the uncertainty in his voice or the continued concern in his eyes, I shook my head, only seeing, as I had since we took Soren in, trouble ahead for this clan.
While I suspected we could unburden ourselves of a great deal of it if we allowed Astrid to marry elsewhere, I recognized my father’s stubborn look of determination.
One I could inwardly admit I felt grateful for because I didn’t want her anywhere but here, whether we were together or not.
“There is something I would have you know about Astrid,” my father went on, keeping his voice down. “Something she did for me some time ago, marking the beginning of our friendship, for none were kinder to me when I needed it most.”
Surprisingly enough, Father went on to share how he suffered from a debilitating ailment that could create a great deal of pain.
How she had happened upon him one day in the woodland and massaged the muscles in his calf and feet, easing them greatly before making him an elixir he still took to this day.
“’Twas becoming almost impossible to hide from others who needed to see me strong,” he said.
“Yet she kept my secret, and often took the time to ease my muscles, allowing us the opportunity to talk of many things. Her homeland. Kin. The growing unrest betwixt our countries.” Genuine fondness lit his gaze.
“I came to think of her as a daughter in a way.” He shook his head. “Never more, nor will that change.”
His gaze settled on my face in conclusion.
“I know you have often wondered how the two of us became friends, and now you know.
‘Twas because of her kind heart and her need to find peace when so much strife has surrounded her most of her life. But that will be for her to share with you once the battling betwixt you two finally ends.”
Before I could counter that may never happen, someone called my father away to oversee one thing or another for the king’s arrival, leaving me to my own thoughts.
In truth, I had spent more time secretly desiring Astrid from afar than talking to her for obvious reasons, yet I admittedly grew more curious about her by the day, when that was the last thing I should be doing.
Determined not to dwell on her, I made my way outside to check on the men on the battlements, only to run into Stewart halfway up.
“I was just heading your way, friend.” He seemed unsettled as he urged me to join him in a more secluded area toward the back of one of the lower battlements. One where there was no need to post men right now.
“What is it?” I asked, feeling uneasy.
“We heard back from our scout, and if ‘tis a social call on the king’s behalf, I suspect ‘twill be brief,” he reported. “’Tis just him, Laird MacGreggor, and a dozen or so well-armed men.”
“Bloody hell,” I muttered, raking a hand through my hair. I looked south, toward where the recent battle had taken place, surprised by how concerned this news made me. “That’s more than enough to cause trouble for the Norse villagers, aye?”
“I would say so,” Stewart said grimly, seemingly not all that shocked I would ask. That I might even worry about them despite my dislike of their ilk these days.
“What does Da want to do?” I asked, sure my father had already received the news. “Have you spoken with him?”
“Aye.” The corners of his mouth tugged down. “He has no choice but to welcome King Alexander and let him do as he wishes. This clan has no choice.”
“Och,” I muttered. He was right. We were faithful subjects of our king, so if he wanted the Norse scoured from this land, we would have to allow it, if not assist in it. Usually, I would take no issue with that, but this was different. It cut far too close to home. “And what of Astrid?”
I knew before I asked that Stewart could not possibly answer that.
Even if he could, it was too late. The horns had blared, and the pipes trilled, harking the king’s arrival.