Chapter Eight #2
“You, Astrid,” Father said, surprising me, given his sentimental attachment to this horse. His gaze flickered over me briefly before he smiled warmly at her, vague enough with his words to get away with it. “Let us call her a wedding gift from me to you.”
Astrid stopped and looked at him with wide eyes. “Truly?”
“Aye, truly.” He smiled from the horse to Astrid, undoubtedly pleased to do this for her. “Whilst there are certain areas of the highlands she couldnae handle, she’s more sure-footed than most horses and can be depended upon if you end up battling.”
Astrid nodded, her gaze still alight with admiration, while she continued looking over the horse. “’Tis good to know.” She glanced from Lachlan to the mare. “Does she have a name?”
“We call her Wyvern,” he said. “’Twas a favored name by the wee bairns around here when she was but a foal. They claimed she looked like a mystical beast born of folklore, so Wyvern it was.”
“I like that,” Astrid said softly, meeting the horse’s eyes. “’Tis nice to meet you, Wyvern.” Smiling, she gazed at Wyvern almost as if she could communicate with her in some magical way. “I think we will do just fine together.”
As if Wyvern agreed, she nuzzled into Astrid’s touch, invoking a ripple of laughter that was music to my ears. I had never heard her laugh like that, as if her soul had just broken free of shackles, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“’Tis a fine-looking animal,” Gustav praised when he and the king joined us, mounted and ready to go.
“’Tis,” Astrid agreed. Her smile faded, yet the warmth in her gaze remained when she looked at my father. “’Tis a truly kind gift. Thank you, m’laird.”
“You are verra welcome, lass,” he said as she swung up into Wyvern’s saddle with ease, the sight of her on the horse every bit as magnificent as the horse itself.
“I wish you many safe trails on her, Astrid,” Da continued, “and look forward to your return.”
“As do I look forward to seeing you again.” Astrid blinked back tears as she looked at my father. “Take care of yourself in my absence.”
“Of course,” Father assured her before focusing on me. He clasped my arm, hand to elbow, and held on a little tighter than normal, almost as if he didn’t want to let me go. As if he feared he would never see me again. “Bring her home safely, son. ‘Tis an order.”
“Aye, Da.” I bit back my own emotion, praying Astrid was wrong about his health, yet I saw the weariness around his eyes and feared she was not. “You have my word.”
Although he didn’t say it, as I was a full-grown man and warrior standing before my king, I saw the love in my father’s eyes for me and knew he saw the same reflected in mine.
“Dinnae leave without these,” Florie exclaimed, rushing over from where she’d been speaking with Stewart, making me wonder if he’d told her how he felt about her. She handed each of us a satchel. “’Tis bannock in there for all three of you and whoever else you might like to share it with.”
“Thank you, Florie.” I swung up onto my horse. “’Tis much welcome.”
“’Tis, thank you.” Astrid looked at Florie affectionately. “Fare well, my friend. I will see you all again soon enough.”
After that, everyone headed out with Astrid and me riding beside each other behind the king and Gustav.
Several men moved up ahead of them and others behind us, forming a guard around King Alexander.
I glanced back once we were over the drawbridge, only to find Father standing on the highest battlement watching us go with his arm raised in farewell.
Astrid glanced back, too, sadness in her gaze as it lingered on Da before she met my eyes. Though she said nothing, I knew that sadness was as much for me as my father, yet there was a caring tenderness in it as well that soothed me.
It would take a few hours to reach the battle site on this route, whereas the night I carried Soren back to our castle, it was under an hour via a woodland path.
This route was better for a larger number of travelers on horseback, giving us a better chance of defending ourselves if someone attacked.
Though brisk and slick underfoot from the light layer of snowfall the night before, it wasn’t a bad day for traveling compared to what we might face in future days up north.
“Oksana obeys well,” I commented, noting how Astrid's husky kept pace alongside her horse as if she had done it numerous times before.
“’Tis less obeying and more going where she pleases.” Astrid looked at Oksana fondly. “From birth, her preference seemed to be by my side, until we met Lachlann. She enjoys his company as well.”
“’Tis understandable.” I looked at the unusual-looking dog, which appeared more of a wolf if not for her blue eyes. “From where in your homeland does she hail?”
“Not my homeland but Russia,” she revealed.
“Or should I say, her parents did. Several litters were born one tough winter just over the border from my birthplace in Norway. Most survived with my help. The Russian villagers gifted me two from separate litters to thank me for my efforts. A female and a male.” There was no mistaking the emotion in her voice.
“They remained with me for many years and bore several litters together, both beloved friends and sorely missed.”
“And you kept just one of their pups with you? What of the rest?”
“Actually, I kept two,” she said softly, a tinge of sadness to her voice now. “Oksana’s brother did not make it on the sea voyage here.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, lass,” I said, meaning it, hurting for her in a way I didn’t understand. Even though I’d never had a pet nor understood the draw to them, for some reason, I did now;, perhaps because I had seen how Oksana watched over my father and how she had done the same for Astrid.
Despite meaning to leave it at that, I found myself wanting to hear more.
To get to know Astrid on a level I never thought possible, given her nationality.
“Mayhap you would tell me more of these huskies of yours as we travel?
Surely you have a tale or two for ‘tis an interesting breed and new to us Scots.”
She looked at me, as if unsure I truly meant it. “Ja?”
“Aye,” I replied.
So, she did, and surprisingly enough, I found myself riveted by her every word.
Or perhaps just taken by the way her gaze lit up when she spoke of this breed she so adored.
The love that shone in her gaze when she glanced at Oksana every so often.
It was love clearly reciprocated by the way her dog kept a close eye on her even as she scanned the forest around us frequently, giving me the impression she watched over her mistress.
More so, she would protect Astrid with her life just as I would.
“Oksana’s parents remained with you in battle?
” I exclaimed at one point as she told of one adventure or another with her various pups, speaking of an exciting life indeed, and at a young age.
“Och, nay.” Shaking my head, I marveled at the idea.
What a sight that would be. “’Twould be foolish of a dog. ”
“Yet there they were and even took down an opponent or two on my behalf,” Astrid swore.
“They are remarkably fast, excel at jumping, and are mighty hunters, at that. Whilst I would not call them natural defenders of men like some breeds, they are very devoted to their human companions, not to mention highly intelligent, in my opinion.”
I could see that, at least with Oksana. Outside of her appearance, she was like no dog I had come across before.
“I would have you ride beside me now, Astrid,” the king eventually said over his shoulder.
Gustav gave her enough room to ride up between them, effectively keeping me flanking him.
“We are nearly there and ‘tis best all see the esteemed position you hold, at the moment for your safety at the verra least.”
While not pleased by his saying, “at the moment,” I understood it needed to be said for the sake of the warriors traveling with us. Astrid was here to prove not just her worth but her devotion to her new king and country and she had to earn it like any other in her precarious position would .
Even so, I couldn’t say it was easy watching my new wife do as Alexander asked, yet as the day and evening wore on, it was impossible not to become even more impressed with her than I already was.