Chapter 15
Catrìona was aware that much happened after the battle on the Northman’s longship, but because she had been tending to Colbán, she had been spared the questions of the king and the Orkney jarls. But once she had changed, she went to see the queen, knowing she owed Margaret an explanation.
The queen was mild in her scolding. “You should have come to me, Catrìona, but I can understand your desire to save your maidservant. ’Tis clear that God was protecting you and for that I am most grateful.”
The queen was right, of course. To rescue Deidre had been an impulsive act, but she had not trusted Ivar to be honest, even with the king. She regretted Colbán’s wound, but she was not sorry for having gone after Deidre, who was now to share the chamber with her and Fia.
The next morning, Steinar assured her that he and Angus had answered all to the king’s and the jarls’ satisfaction.
“Truth be told,” he said when they broke their fast, “I believe Paul and Erlend were embarrassed to have one such as Ivar living in their midst, hiding his perfidy behind their hospitality. They made excuses for not having spent much time with Ivar. It seems he was gone much of the time and now they know why.”
During that day, Colbán remained abed and Duff, still recovering from his own wound, rarely moved from his chamber.
When Audra was not with Colbán, she was seeing to her father, running between the two.
Catrìona worried for the lady’s well-being and frequently checked on her, offering help where needed.
Often, when Catrìona came to see the king’s captain, he would be protesting his confinement. “I should be on the practice field with my men!” Catrìona was unsurprised. Such a man, used to being outside, commanding his warriors, would rebel at having to remain abed.
Both she and Audra ignored his complaining.
The next day, Catrìona came to check on Colbán’s progress. When she approached his chamber, she found the door ajar.
His voice boomed in command. “Leave me, woman, I am nearly well!”
Audra’s soft voice drifted to the corridor. “I will not leave you, my lord.”
Catrìona peered through the small opening to see Audra handing the captain a wooden cup. “ ’Tis something that will ease the pain.”
To Catrìona’s surprise, the gruff warrior took it and drank, but afterward said, “I would rather have the king’s wine or even the ale we are sometimes served. This has a bitter taste and does little to improve a man’s spirits.”
Catrìona silently chuckled. The bear growls.
Audra’s words in response were murmured. “I will see you have all you desire, my lord.”
Colbán’s dark eyes searched Audra’s face. “You are very kind, putting up with my many grumblings. Do you forget from whence I come, madam?”
Catrìona could not see Audra’s face, but she heard the sincerity in the lady’s voice as she gently protested.
“Oh, no, my lord. I am well aware you are from Moray. But if you knew how high is my regard for you, you would not doubt my desire to see you hale once again. Why, I think you are the most courageous, honorable and true of all who serve the king.”
Colbán drew his head back and studied Audra for a moment, his brows drawn together. “Would your father think the same, my lady?”
“Aye, my lord. I know he does.”
Catrìona smiled to herself and turned to tiptoe away. After that, she no longer worried for the king’s captain and came not again to see how he fared.
* * *
A few days after Deidre’s rescue, to Catrìona’s delight, her uncle, Fia’s father, arrived at the tower. He was glad to see his daughter and niece, but they had only begun to speak with him when the king swept the mormaer away, calling for wine and telling the steward they must not be disturbed.
Catrìona and Fia looked at each other and shrugged. They would see Matad at the evening meal.
That same day, Domnall returned to Dunfermline with the news that Isla of Blackwell’s father had consented to his suit.
Catrìona had hoped he and Isla would already be gone before she returned from St. Andrews, but she had not been so fortunate and now all the ladies were forced to listen to Isla’s wedding plans.
It was early afternoon when Catrìona finished the blue tunic she had been stitching for Steinar.
She held it up to the light from the window in her chamber, admiring the silver and gold stitching that had taken her many hours of laborious effort.
Behind her, Fia and Deidre happily sorted through gowns the queen’s sister thought might fit the handmaiden.
Carefully folding the tunic and placing it in her chest, Catrìona told the two women she would return shortly. ’Twas August and Kessog should be coming out of his molt. She would find Giric and they could pay the falcon a visit.
She entered the hall to see Steinar standing near the hearth fire.
He waved and she went to join him, but before she could speak, the king summoned him. “Scribe, I would have you read this missive the Irishman has brought me from the Mormaer of Blackwell.”
She waited by the hearth fire as the two men spoke, hoping to learn of the message’s contents. Steinar must have realized her intent. When he finished with the king, he came to her.
“ ’Tis done,” he said. “Blackwell comes in two days’ time and they will marry in the chapel. Then presumably, both will leave Dunfermline, hopefully not to be seen again.”
Catrìona sighed in relief and not just for herself. All of the queen’s ladies would be glad to see Isla go. She thanked Steinar and told him she was off to find Giric. As she was about to invite him to come with her, the king called Steinar back for a word.
“I will find you later,” he said and returned to the king.
Slipping through the tower door, Catrìona considered where she might find the boy.
He sometimes watched Angus at sword practice, or he might be at the archery field where Rhodri put the archers through their paces.
But more often, she could find Giric and his dog, Shadow, in the village at this time of day.
She decided to go to the village since she wanted to see the changes that had been made to the orphans’ cottage.
Then she would find the boy, wherever he was, and they could visit Kessog together.
She walked past the stables with only pleasant thoughts in her mind. She had received justice for the death of her parents, Colbán had finally seen Audra’s true affection and, soon, the man who betrayed her for another would be gone.
As she strolled along, she did not pay much attention to the few people coming and going, except to return a smile of greeting. Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into the shadows.
“Domnall!” she cried out when she recognized who it was. “What can you mean by this?” She yanked back her arm, but he held it fast. “Unhand me!”
He moved closer, his face inches from hers. “Nay, not until you hear me out.”
He smelled of some scent and the shoulders of his tunic were richly embroidered with flowers. It was as he had always been but now she found his flowery scent and his embellished tunic disgusted her.
Heart pounding in her chest, she spit out, “Say it then and be gone!”
He lifted his finger to her jaw and slowly slid it to her chin. She stiffened at the unwanted touch. “I have always found you a seductive woman, Catrìona. It was not for lack of interest I gave you up for Isla, you know.”
“That is no concern of mine now, Domnall. You have your betrothed. See to her and leave me alone.”
“Nay, I would still have you in my bed. You could not be my wife, but you could be my mistress. What say you?”
She huffed out a laugh. “Surely you jest!”
He looked at her, affronted. “I am most serious. You have no dowry to speak of and no rich trade to offer as you once did.”
“If I did not come to your bed when I was your intended, do you think I would do so now when you have spurned me? You are beyond contemptible!”
Without warning, he dropped her hand and drove his chest into her, forcing her against the side of the stable, the rough boards bruising the tender flesh of her back.
“I will have you, as I always wanted.” Without pretense of gentleness, his mouth came down hard upon hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth.
She pushed against his chest with her hands but she could not move him. With one foot, she kicked at his shin as hard as her shoe allowed in the tight space.
Raising his mouth from her abused lips, he said, “I always did like your fire.”
A hiss of steel was followed by the flash of metal as a sword tip slid before her eyes to hover next to Domnall’s cheek. “Take your hands from her or I shall scar you for life, you dishonorable cur.”
Steinar! Her chest heaving, she turned to look into his beautiful eyes, relief washing over her.
“Has he harmed you, little one?”
She pressed her lips together trying to hold back the tears filling her eyes. “I am fine.”
Domnall backed away from the sword but the blade followed to remain close to his face. “What business is this of yours, Scribe?”
“You, a man betrothed, would force yourself on one of the queen’s ladies? Get you gone, Domnall. See to your own lady!” In a tone of disgust, Steinar added, “I wish you well of her.”
Domnall glanced again at the blade, barely a breath from his eye, and fled.
Steinar sheathed his sword and pulled Catrìona into his arms. “ ’Tis over, little one. He is gone.”
For a moment she was content to be held. Wiping the tears of relief from her eyes, she tilted her head up to look at him. “You saved me.”
“Aye, lass, and I always will.”
* * *
Steinar did not speak the words to Domnall that had been in his heart. “She belongs to me!” he had wanted to shout. But how could he claim a lady the king intended for another?