Chapter 4 #4
He stood and whistled softly, and his ebony warhorse, Mercury, came trotting toward him along the shoreline, startling the poor old fisherman who was wandering along the embankment.
Waryk realized that the old fellow was looking for his boat.
It was pure happenstance that Waryk had paused by the boat on the riverbank that the lady had chosen for her night journey.
He had always loved the water. Lying on the embankment, studying the stars, the sky, and feeling cool breezes—untainted by the scent of blood—always seemed to soothe his soul.
This area of the river just outside Stirling had always been his favorite place.
Quiet, with none to disturb him except the occasional fisherman.
The fellow here now was grizzled beyond belief, and sadly confused.
“’Tis here I left her, of that I am sure,” he muttered to himself.
He looked at Waryk. “Now, I am not daft, m’laird.
I do converse with meself now and agin’, but that merely for some form of company since the fish do not talk much.
Great sir, have ya nae seen a boat about, perhaps rowing itself out on the river? ”
“Indeed, I’m afraid I have seen such a vessel,” Waryk said. He produced a silver piece—with King David’s image upon it—and presented it to the fisherman. “Take this for your boat, my good fellow. And come tomorrow, I’ll see that your boat is back.”
The old man’s eyes widened and glazed. “Great God, but I care not if ye make kindling of that rat trap fer a silver piece such as this!”
“Go spend it then,” Waryk said, leaping atop Mercury’s back.
“Ah, but wait. If you would be so good. Do me a service as well, and I’ll see you receive another coin.
Your boat is there—you can just see it downriver.
Keep your eyes trained on the water, and see to it that the boat does not somehow reappear here on the shore.
There’s a lady upon it, and I will be back for her. ”
“Aye, sir! As ye wish it!” the fellow cried delightedly. “I’ll keep my eyes hard upon the water, that I will!”
“Have you a name, man?”
“Aye, sir, I am Milford. Who may y’be, me fine, great young laird?”
“I am Waryk—”
“Laird Lion!” the man cried with pleased approval.
Waryk arched a brow. “I’d not imagined I might be so readily known.”
Milford laughed happily, the sound of his voice a wheezing cackle.
“Laird Lion—ye be known far and wide. Every Scotsman loves a warrior who bests his enemies—if he not be one of the enemies himself. ’Tis glad I am to make your acquaintance, good sir!
Believe it or not, in me younger days I rode with a man named William who served the king.
I admired your sire, young Graham. And ye’ve my loyalty yerself this night. ”
Waryk nodded with a wry smile in response to Milford’s accolade to his father’s memory.
“Thank you. My father was a great man, and glad I am of your loyalty, Milford. I will return as soon as I’m able.”
Waryk nudged Mercury and rode the short distance to the fortress, the heart of Stirling. He was hailed by the guard at the gate, identified himself, and entered the courtyard. There, he turned Mercury over to a young groom and hurried to reach his own chambers at the fortress.
The hour had grown very late, or very early. He hadn’t planned on spending so much time with the lady on the lake. Alan of Ayr, manservant to the king, caught him when he had barely entered the long hallway that led to the knights’ quarters.
“Laird Lion, the king would see you now.”
“I know that I must see him, Alan. But if you’ll note, I’m dripping wet. Give me leave, and I’ll wash and change before coming to see the king. I had not meant to keep him waiting awake through the night.”
“Laird Waryk, the king did not stay awake—he has risen again since it is almost dawn. The king would see you now.”
Waryk shrugged. “Aye, then. I will come.”
His shoes squished upon the floor as he walked the distance to the great hall.
David was there, pacing. It looked as if this might be a long discussion, Waryk thought with dismay.
He’d meant to leave the unwilling heiress for some time to consider the error of her ways, but he had not meant to desert her entirely.
It might take some time before he could go back for her, and under those circumstances, he’d have to mention the lady to the king after giving him a report of the battle in which he’d rather too easily managed to keep hold of the king’s domains.
Daylight was coming, and too quickly, Waryk thought.
She might be in greater danger, for the river would fill, and the Vikings she longed to reach might be ever closer, moving about by day …
He would have to reach her quickly. He would keep her escape secret if he could, but if he could not …
She would have to meet the king’s wrath. There was no other way.
Or else she might well make good her bid for freedom, and they’d both be in danger of charges of treason.
Of being hanged, or beheaded.
Or even drawn and quartered.
Vikings could be very dangerous, he had never deceived himself on that issue. Vikings, in all sizes, and all shapes. Even a Viking’s beautiful daughter.
Perhaps, he thought, a strange foreboding sending a tremor of heat along his spine, especially a Viking’s beautiful and wayward daughter …