Chapter Eight
-DECLAN-
Though exhausted from having slept so little the night before, I found myself once again lying in bed with thoughts of Astrid churning in my mind, keeping me from dozing off right away after we married and went our separate ways.
While I thought every time I saw her that she couldn’t be lovelier, somehow, standing there in front of the fire in my father’s chamber, she was.
Perhaps it was the soft pink warming her delicate cheeks.
Or the way the flickering light hit her pale blue eyes, seeming to make them sparkle all for me.
Either way, she had been stunning as the clergyman bound our wrists together with Mackay colors, and she became mine.
How I had wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss her afterward.
Finally, feel her plush lips beneath mine and taste her.
Feel her warm breath mingle with mine. Revel in the softness of her flawless skin beneath my hands as I brought her to bed and caressed her.
To spread her thighs and sink so deeply inside her that we became one.
In fact, I lost myself so thoroughly to the mere thought of it that I groaned, only to stir awake and realize I had dozed off, and the sun had just hit the horizon.
While a part of me dreaded leaving my father and the potential risks to Astrid on the long journey ahead, another part had never been more eager to be with her as we traveled. To spend every waking moment guarding her with my life, as she proved herself invaluable to our king.
And especially as we began our journey, however secret, as man and wife.
After I made ready the few things I intended to travel with, I strapped on my belt, sheathed my prized blade at my waist, and made my way belowstairs only to find Father already breaking his fast with Stewart, King Alexander, and, unfortunately, Gustav.
Joining them, I ate with the MacGreggor chieftain peaceably, but then, knowing Astrid would never be his eased my tension.
Gustav didn’t act as if we’d had a somewhat heated exchange the night before but instead seemed amiable enough.
Where some in my position might justifiably feel guilt and mayhap even fear, given what I had done by marrying Astrid, I felt no such thing.
Rather, nothing had ever felt so right. So meant to be when, mere weeks ago, I would have thought my actions ludicrous.
Now I felt at ease, as if I could finally release a breath I had been holding my whole life.
Or so I thought until King Alexander’s eyes widened in awe at something behind me, and that breath was stolen from me all over again when I turned and spotted Astrid descending the stairs alongside Oksana and Florie.
“Bloody hell,” Gustav whispered in just as much awe as the rest of the great hall, based on the silence that fell. Understandably, too.
Where the night before she had been a vision in Scottish attire, today she was every inch a Norse shield-maiden with her head held high.
She had tied back her shimmering honey-blond hair in multiple intricate braids, subtly outlined her striking pale blue eyes with coal, and placed the plush white bear fur of her Helvig tribe, proudly draped around her shoulders.
Wearing a tunic cinched at the waist and linen trousers that showed off her slender, shapely legs, she had a shield strapped to her back and an impressive blade sheathed at her side.
Not to mention, to the common eye unfamiliar with Oksana, some might even believe a white wolf stalked along beside her, adding to her impressive presentation.
“There you are, dear Astrid,” my father said warmly, loudly enough that all present knew she was a welcome sight, even if she looked like the enemy now.
He went to her and held out the crook of his arm, offering Florie a friendly nod hello before speaking to the lass who had just become my wife.
“Come sit and break your fast with us, lass.”
Though not the lady she had appeared the night before, Astrid commanded a different level of respect today from us all, it seemed, because not only did I, Stewart, and Gustav stand at her approach, but also the King of Scotland himself.
Despite my and Astrid's gazes only meeting briefly, it was enough to experience the same powerful connection I always felt when I looked at her starting from the moment she first crossed my drawbridge. Her gaze invoked a feeling of not just stark desire but of strength I’d never quite understood until this moment.
Then again, I had never seen her like this.
Never truly believed she was a warrior. A talented healer?
Aye. Kind-hearted? Aye, that too, it seemed.
But never this.
While I should dislike it because her attire was that of those I’d come to hate on the battlefield, I found myself beguiled by her. Admiring her, just as I knew my fellow countrymen were, whether it felt right or not.
“Good morn, Astrid,” the king said as we sat, having as much trouble taking his eyes off of her as the rest of us.
Every man in the great hall, for that matter.
“I appreciate you presenting yourself as I requested for this journey.
‘Twas a lot to ask of you, but ‘tis what the remaining Norse at the shore will need to see, then all to follow as we travel.”
While I appreciated seeing her like this more than I’d expected, I remained frustrated that Alexander had asked this of her. It not only endangered her life but his while she traveled with us. There were bound to be plenty of rogue Scotsmen who might rightfully try to attack her for being Norse.
The king seemed convinced this was the best course of action, though, and he was by no means a coward, but a fierce warrior, surrounded by equally seasoned warriors, including myself, so I had no choice but to trust his judgment.
Nonetheless, I intended to take my new task as her personal guard very seriously.
Not just because she was my wife now, but…
what? It was hard to put words to, even in my mind.
All I knew was that I would die to protect her.
“Of course, King Alexander,” Astrid said, pulling me back into the conversation when she assured the king with a single nod and admirable courage that she was all right in her attire. She could hold her own, and it certainly appeared that way.
I couldn’t help but notice, as she sat between Father and me, eating and conversing with the others, that she’d tucked the stone around her neck beneath her tunic and kept her cross visible.
I knew Father had asked her to wear it to protect her in these parts, and while it angered me at first because she did not believe in our God, I now understood his reasoning.
The sight of her wearing it in her current attire would no longer raise eyebrows, either, given that so many Norse had converted.
If anything, on our journey ahead, it might very well help bridge the gap.
Though Florie had unfortunately gone her own way to dine at a table with the lesser born, as was proper, especially in the king’s presence, she rejoined us outside after we broke our fast. Given that the weather wasn’t as bad as we had feared the night before, we would be ready to travel within a few hours and be settled at the encampment at Largs before nightfall.
With Father overseeing most of the preparations and choosing which warriors he felt best suited to travel with us, I was able to set aside time with Florie, Stewart, and— it just so happened— Astrid.
As the four of us mingled amongst the people who were setting up their carts to sell wares or going about their daily activities, I couldn’t help but feel the rightness of us together.
Where I had long been friends with Stewart and Florie, Astrid somehow seemed one of us in that moment, even though they clearly felt she had been for some time.
“’Twill be hard for Florie,” I said at one point as Stewart and I walked a ways behind them. “I see clearly now she loses not two close friends whilst we are away but three.” I eyed him knowingly, yet again, seeing the way he looked at Florie. “And mayhap more, whether she realizes it or not?”
Though hard to envision my amorous friend settling down with one lass, we were only getting older, and Florie was a catch, to be sure. Add to that the deep friendship they already shared, and I could see them being truly happy together.
“I dinnae think she realizes it,” Stewart said softly, admitting to his affection for Florie. His gaze lingered on her as she laughed about one thing or another with Astrid. “But aye, I can admit I would not have minded staying around here a tad longer.”
“No doubt,” I said. “Why not tell her that? Mayhap ‘twould be something she would like to hear.”
“Mayhap,” he murmured, leaving it at that, yet I saw the way he kept looking at her, as if wondering if he should.
By the time we returned to the courtyard, final preparations were underway, and my horse awaited me, already saddled.
Although I would have rather Astrid ride with me so I could keep her as safe as possible, there would be too much traveling over the coming days for just one horse to carry two people.
It seemed Father already had that in mind, when he brought over one of his prized horses.
A magnificent mare as snow white as Oksana, and one of, if not the very best, horse my father owned.
She was descended from my mother’s favorite horse, and while he’d initially intended solely to breed her, she had also proven well-suited to riding.
Moreover, she had been caught in a battle or two and did better than most horses, taking orders well and remaining calm.
“How beautiful, Lachlann,” Astrid exclaimed, her pale blue gaze sparkling with admiration at the impressive beastie.
Clearly knowing her way around horses, she ran her hand along the horse’s nose, neck, chest, and legs, sizing up her strengths as well as feeling for heat and swelling or any signs of discomfort. “Who does she belong to?”