Chapter 5
The moment Gilda welcomed him into her heat, the thought that o’ercame Calder’s lust was why had he waited so long to come back to Caithness? Yet even that faded as the female heart of the woman taking his weight clenched around his cock. Gilda wasnae a woman to be tamed; nae she grabbed his arse and demanded more of him, harder, faster, and he didnae deny her—couldnae—since he felt like her willing slave.
“Ach, Calder,” she groaned, “Ye have made me a happy lass. I’d begun to think last solstice was but a dream, but now I know Loki wasnae playing tricks on my memory.”
Calder rolled onto his side, circled her in his arms and rested his chin atop her head without pulling out. He was well aware it was dangerous, that he might get her with child, even so he found he couldnae bear to be separated frae Gilda. He wrapped her up even tighter in his warmth, feeling as if his heart might burst. “I thought the meal would ne’er end, that I would be deprived of this, of ye and me alone together making love. I could have pounded Rory into the ground with my fist when he went off and ne’er returned, leaving me to show Olaf the courtesy of at least listening to his stories about the auld days. I was completely ignorant that he and Gavyn Comlyn had shared a grand friendship and oft travelled the road we came last year until Caithness became part of Norway.”
“I live here and had nae notion that yon had happened when I was a bairn. It’s simple to feel that we might have found each other afore this.” She twisted her neck slightly and looked up at the star-filled sky. “There are those can read the stars whau might say that it hadnae been our time until now. That our lives are shaped by the gods.”
“Young Ghillie would be one such. He was insistent that I and Rory come back to Caithness. And I admit to being mightily grateful that the stars chose to bring us together again. I cannae imagine aught better than lying under yon same stars, holding the lass of my heart in my arms,” he told her, surprised that he had practically admitted he loved her. What else could this feeling be? The one that made his heart race by just thinking of her?
“I too feel this was meant to be. Naebody will e’er mean as much to me as ye do.”
Knowing her feelings matched his own was all it took to make his cock harden and grow where it remained inside her warmth, as if this was the be all and end all of life. Frae the sounds Gilda made in his ear there was nae question in his mind that the gods had brought them together. And as he moved inside her, climbing with her into the stars once again, he knew had ne’er felt so happy in this lifetime or any other.
When Rory roused in the space that Olaf had allocated for their use at the far end of the longhouse, there was nae sign of either Calder or Ghillie. Not that he suspected Ghillie of having gone off with a lass, the way he felt certain Calder had done.
Ghillie was a curious wee lad, into everything. At Dun Bhuird he spent as much time in the stillroom with Kathryn and Merida as he did on the training ground fighting with Calder and him. Ghillie wielded a sword with a type of finesse as experienced as it was unexpected.
Nae, he was wrong to think it unexpected; both Nhaimeth Comlyn and Rob McArthur had learned their craft frae Euan McArthur. There was nae way Nhaimeth would let his son out in the world without being able to defend himself. When the lad finally came into his own, became a man in truth, his would be a name few would forget.
Pushing up to his feet, Rory unwound himself frae the plaid that had kept him warm during the night and grabbed his shirt, dragging it o’er his head afore kilting his plaid in folds around his waist where he secured it with his belt. Time to break his fast. He was well aware he wouldnae be served porridge. Last visit he had eaten pickled herring most mornings, and he didnae expect this one would be any different.
He strode into the Great Hall to the sound of Olaf’s booming voice, determined to ask the auld man’s pardon for disappearing frae supper prematurely, as long as he didnae expect him to explain why. Last night, his intention had been to move around the Great Hall, meet folk he remembered frae the year afore. And what had he done? He’d walked Ainsel to her broch through the darkening blue evening, carrying her son in his arms, without the slightest urge to return to the hall and the feast.
Useless. Last solstice, Ainsel had been married. If she had gone into the heather with anyone it would have been her husband. Mayhap, that’s when her bairn had been conceived. It wasnae the kind of sum he’d ever had the need to consider. Instead of going back to the longhouse, he had retraced his steps, walking through rough grass edging the slope down to the beach then over the slope and into the heather.
Was this the hollow where she had taken him?
Poking out of the heather he discovered blaeberries and, bending down, he picked a few, well aware his tongue and lips might be blue when he finished eating, but whau was there to mind?
Every moment he stood there, his mind was in another place, his heart in another time as he relived the moment of union—a blessed union. That’s how it stood out in his memory.
He sucked in a deep breath as Olaf urged him to sit down and eat, reminding himself as he took a stool and fitted his legs beneath the high-board that he had a full day and a half afore the bonfire was lit. During that time he would endeavour to move among the folk that inhabited the settlement, listening for the lass he had made love with and stupidly left behind. Hopefully he would find her afore burning brands were thrown onto the bonfire and the Gathering truly began.
For the first time since his birth, Axel slept through the night, a gift frae the gods but a bittersweet one since Ainsel herself took an age to fall asleep, her head full of Rory.
Lying awake, she went o’er in her mind the night her bairn had been conceived, but couldnae bring herself to wish it hadnae happened. How could she bear to be without her son? The rest of the time she lay there contriving ways she could tell Rory the truth and see his delight when he found out he was a father. All very well, but in her mind she was unable capture his smile as the dream dissolved in a mist, much like that moment she first saw him arrive, hands on the reins of his big grey horse. The moment her heart had leapt, hoping he had returned to Caithness to find her.
Soon, she realised it was Calder driving their return. For hadnae Calder immediately sought out Gilda, his eyes big with her reflection, seeking out Gilda, the way she had been imagining Rory might search for her.
Thankfully, that dream was crushed as Gilda stumbled through the door, her hands folded and pressed in a knot against her breasts, eyes awash with tears. Pushing her own worries aside, she rushed across the room to reach Gilda. “What is it, what has that scoundrel done to ye? Let me at him, I’ll kill him with my bare hands if he’s hurt ye.”
She opened her arms, let her cousin stepped into them and squeezed. Ainsel in return heard a thread of laughter in her voice saying, “Please don’t kill him for I’m sure I love him and he near enough said he loved me. Ach, Ainsel, I’m so happy.” Gilda let her go and knuckled her eyes with both fists. “These are tears of happiness.”
Ainsel curved a hand around each of her cousin’s, pushing her away, taking in her expression. Gilda had always been a cheerful lassie, always seeing the best in folk, even Nils, but Ainsel could tell this was more. Gilda’s eyes brimmed with happiness and at that moment Ainsel changed her hold and pulled her cousin into a tight hug to express her delight. “If yer happy then so am I. As one who knows how hard happiness is to come by…” she let her words fade away.
Gilda had been well aware Ainsel’s marriage had been less than perfect, that Nils had beaten her now and then, but had little notion how bad it had been. That was Ainsel’s secret, one she intended keeping.
“Calder told me I’m the reason he returned, hoping all the while I hadnae found someone else, as if I could—so what if I flirted around the edges with other men—he’s been in my thoughts all year.”
There, now Ainsel knew for sure. Rory had simply returned to the Ness to accompany his friend. He had wanted to help Calder find the lass he had fallen in love with during last year’s Gathering—naught to do with her or her dreams. She heaved a sigh of acceptance, loud even to her own ears. Fortunately just then Axel wakened—crying—giving Ainsel the excuse she needed to turn away frae her cousin.
“He slept all night. I’ve never seen him so content, but he’ll be hungry now,” she said bending o’er the crib to pick him up.
“He’s growing so fast, in a wee while he’ll be walking, then ye will spend yer days running after him. It’s a pity Nils isnae here to help ye with his son.”
As if he would have bestirred himself to do aught to help anybody whau wasnae called Nils, a thought that made her lip curl. In the same mood she almost said, ‘I’ll have to rely on yer help instead’ afore she realised that Gilda was probably hoping she would be travelling back to Scotland with Calder. Ainsel would have to be daft to imagine Calder choosing to remain in Caithness.
She had observed the friendship betwixt Calder and Rory. Of a certainty he would follow Rory home and take Gilda with him. In an attempt to ward off such unpleasant thoughts, Ainsel’s mind leapt in an unfortunate direction, saying, “I’ve come to the conclusion Axel’s missing a father’s touch. Why else would he sleep all night after Rory carried him home for me last night?”
A father’s touch—that’s what Axel had experienced last night without either him or his father being aware what they were to one another.
“Hah, if it’s a father he needs the solstice is a grand time to find him one,” Gilda announced, once again full of her usual bright cheer. Now that she had someone to love—someone who loved her—she was determined Ainsel would do the same: find a father for Axel.
How could she reveal she had already found the perfect father for Axel—his own?
The tragedy of it all was that neither of them would ever know.