Chapter 45
Royal Castle at Ayr, Scotland
Six Days Later
Keirah looked at her fingers intertwined with Aonghus’s as he raised her hand to his lips.
A kiss upon her fingers. Her cheeks warmed.
Gracious! All their passionate times together when they had a stolen moment alone the past days and her desire had only grown stronger.
Sophisticated temptress? Naw, possibly never. Naughty wanton lass? Forever!
He set their joined flesh back on the table.
Huh, his knuckles – they were still raw from warfare.
Some honey upon those later. A reminder of the Northmen, their fierceness still shown when giving one final charge.
King Alexander had been wise to order them and his forces back into the mountains, sparing more bloodshed with victory already in the Scots’ grasp.
The roar within the great hall seemed to rattle the cornerstone. Wine and mead flowed quick as grins and boasting after the battles upon the shoreline. Edina snuggled closer on her lap the entire feast as they sampled together all the platters.
“You care for a second spiced apple?” Keirah asked of her wee feasting companion.
A yawn met her query. “Nae, my lady.” Edina rested her curls against Keirah’s breast.
Looking up, she discovered each time her eyes found Aonghus’s he simply smiled at them. Aye, soon it shall be a wee one of our own if deemed fortunate.
Edina’s cheek weighed heavier. “You sleepy, wee lamb?” she whispered.
A colossal yawn met her question. “Nae,” she peeped back, and Keirah bit her lip, halting a grin.
Gazing toward her knight, she spied Aonghus’s eyes staring behind her at the king. Her mirth vanished at the sight of a Scot she hadn’t seen before stepping past. Alec – they had no word on what had come about regarding the battles near Loch Lomond. Perhaps now?
The messenger whispered urgently into King Alexander’s ear before handing the sovereign a folded parchment. The king looked at them with an expression she understood to mean Follow directly.
They rose; Edina’s mother took a snoring wee lass back with her.
Aonghus claimed her hand in his once more as they followed Callum directly with Sir Brayden on the heels of the king.
The eldest MacCade had taken a strong post in Sir James’s absence.
Neither shadow-glances nor night-glances were needed to tell her there seemed to be a hint on the future to come for the Clan MacCade chief; perhaps this was why he was present at the treaty signing seen in her previous night-shadow.
Before the door barely shut behind them, the king handed the parchment to the MacCade brothers before taking his throne while stating, “’Tis a message from Alec MacCade regarding those who battled at Loch Lomond.”
Keirah swallowed hard as the pair unfolded the message. “Are Alec and Deidre well?” she asked after moments seemed hours.
Aonghus replied, his eyes still upon the page. “Aye.” At his answer she drew breath, unaware it was being held till he spoke. “Ivar burned Castle MacCade and there were heavy losses, but many survived, including” – he looked up at her – “the wee bairn. You are an auntie to a wee strapping laddie.”
She clasped her hands before her. “Will they be venturing here?” she wondered in awe.
“Nae,” Callum answered, reading the parchment, “they are remaining to re-build Castle MacCade and regather as much as possible before fall winds settle in.”
Aonghus looked at the king. “This missive is not the only reason you have summoned us here,” he guessed.
“Nae, ‘tis not Sir Aonghus,” the king acknowledged.
“Choices are to be made on the future to come. There is a matter not seen to since your knighthood was granted to you, Sir Aonghus. I have yet to speak regarding the lands to be bestowed. I have spoken with my Lord Chamberlain, and the island directly east to the holdings of Castle MacCade shall be placed upon Clan MacCade in your hands.”
Keirah had heard Callum and Aonghus talk about this island. Perfect. It was the perfect territory for settling a castle adjacent to MacCade land. Rich and green and rolling.
“My lord king…” Aonghus grew flustered. “Thank you.”
The king gave a grin and turned toward her. “Lady Keirah, what do you wish for?” he asked. “Anything within your grasp shall be yours at my command.”
Oh. My. She took a step back at the power just thrown at her feet. “Lord King…” She glanced at the MacCade brothers. This is for these brave lads. “I seek your aid to rebuild Castle MacCade on this isle, to fortify the curtain wall and keep in granite, nae wood as the former.”
“Done,” King Alexander promised and retook his throne to continue: “Now this is settled, the messenger also declared to me King H?konsson has gathered all his dead from our shores, as hoped when we left the surroundings and burned the ruined ships. Lady Keirah, you were not mistaken, Ivar did perish – he took ill after the raids about Loch Lomond. King H?konsson has sailed north to re-gather.”
“My lord king,” she said solemnly, “King H?konsson never sets foot upon his dearest Bj?rgvin again. He will soon join Ivar in the hereafter.”
The king nodded. “Callum and Sir Brayden, summon the assembly,” Alexander commanded.
Aonghus took her hand before approaching the king. “My lord king, there is one final humble request my lady and I ask of you hereupon.”
The brows knitted. “Aye?”
He glanced at her. Aye, she nodded, you are right and got this – now is the time to ask, Aonghus.
Her husband re-met the sovereign’s eyes.
“My lady and I have spoken upon the matter many times the days past and fear there are those who may mean her harm. Particularly, if they came to know her prowess through these battlements or that her instinct in sense of being a fate-seer is still intact.”
The king asked knowingly, “You worry there are others seekin’ revenge such as Lord Kollungr?”
“Aye,” Aonghus responded. “We ask to keep these events that have been spoken within these walls and your council concealed.”
King Alexander ran his fingers over his chin in contemplation. “Never to seek glory, my dear lady?”
“I simply seek a long life by my knight’s side. Any threats to this, even glory bound,” she replied easily from want, “do not carry merit. Glory was never-ever my intent, my lord king, and if not for the thistle awakening me the eve of the final raid I would not have held the shadow-glance.”
“Then it shall be so. A storm took the Northmen upon the shores. Whispers may swirl of mythical forces beyond, but they shall not come from my lips and if any are heard they shall be declared erroneous. The eve of the raid upon the encampment, ’twas…
” He paused, smoothing his beard, searching for the word, but a wry grin met his lips when he looked at Aonghus: “…simply a cluaran the Northman’s foot happened upon.
Our thistles can be so very sharp.” He met her gaze to incline his brow. “This meets with an approval, Cluaran?”
She smiled at Aonghus and tightened her fingers in her knight’s. Turning to the king, she replied wholeheartedly, “’Tis flawless, my lord king.”