Chapter 17 #2
He opened the door of the tower and let her pass through.
“He worries for our leaving.” She walked a little ahead of him.
He caught up to say, “I wanted to ask you before I talked with the lad.” From the corner of her eye she saw him snatch a glance at her as if checking her mood.
“I would like to take the boy with us to the vale and, if you are willing, raise him as our own.”
A smile broke out on her face and, unbidden, tears filled her eyes. “Nothing would please me more than to have Giric with us and I think he will not want to be parted from you.” She hoped one day God would give them children but to have Giric as their own child now was a great boon.
He stopped in the path and turned to face her, ignoring the looks of those passing by. Taking both of her hands in his, he said, “We are of one mind, little cat. ’Tis a good sign of the days to come, is it not?”
She kissed him on the cheek, a light peck. “A good sign, yea.” Then, thinking of the name he had called her, she said, “You called me ‘little cat’.”
“Aye, ’tis how I think of you. ’Tis an affectionate term. Should I call you something else?”
“Nay. ’Tis the name my father called me. I have always loved it.”
“Then little cat you shall be.” He squeezed her hand, kissed her on the forehead and ignored the knowing smiles of those passing them as they held hands and continued down the path.
“What of Angus and Niall?” she asked, just realizing she had yet to speak to either about returning to the vale.
“I assumed you would want both to go with us so I asked if they would come.”
Her anxious gaze met his.
“They said yes; they will both come.”
“Oh, I am glad!” she exclaimed.
“Niall wants to be near Wales to visit Rhodri, and both miss the vale as much as you do. Except for Niall, who used his time here to perfect his skill with the bow, I think neither is fond of life at court. And Angus has a fancy for your handmaiden. Did you know?”
“Nay, Deidre has been most secretive about who she steals away to see, but Angus is a fierce protector and I can see how she would respond to him. Mayhap she liked him before and I just did not see it.”
When they got to the village, the men and women greeted them with broad smiles. “ ’Tis one of the brides,” said one woman, waving from where she swept the short path leading to her cottage.
At the door of the orphans’ cottage, fair-haired Aeleva welcomed them. “All the women are picking flowers for the chapel and the hall.”
“Everyone knows they are invited?” Steinar asked.
“Aye, ’tis going to be a grand celebration. The women who were in Dunfermline ere I came say nothing like it has occurred since the king wed Lady Margaret.”
Happiness welled up inside Catrìona. She would share one of the most important days of her life with Fia and Audra, as well as the queen who meant so much to her.
“Is Giric about?” Steinar asked, peering around the side of the cottage at the now finished chicken pen. “We have something to tell him.” He squeezed Catrìona’s hand, sending tingling sensations through her body.
“Let’s see,” said Aeleva, one fist braced on her generous hip. “After doing his chores, the boy skipped off. Said something about finding the two of you and flying the falcon.”
They thanked her, said they would see her at the wedding and went in search of Giric. They found him in the mews.
“There ye are!” said Giric, rushing to them.
Machar congratulated them on their betrothal and took Kessog from his perch. “Once the lad came, I thought you would be here soon,” he said to Catrìona. “Your tiercel is just ending his molt and is anxious to fly.”
Giric jumped up and down. “Oh, can we?”
Catrìona looked at Steinar and seeing him nod, she said, “Aye, we will fly him and we have something to ask you on our way to the field.”
When they told the boy of their desire to take him with them and raise him as their own, he stopped and stared, great tears falling from his thin face before they crouched before him and he leapt into their open arms. “I had hoped ye would,” Giric said.
“I even asked the queen if she would pray for me. And she did!”
The hours they spent with Giric in the meadow that day were ones Catrìona would always remember. The sky above was a brilliant blue, the grass a deep emerald green, the flowers yellow and white at the edge of the forest.
Kessog flew from the gauntlet, happy to be streaking through the air once again, searching out a mallard.
Steinar wrapped his arm around her shoulder and drew her close as Giric stood nearby watching the falcon.
“This is all I desire, little cat. You and the home we will make together.”
“ ’Twas my dream, too, even when I thought you only an English scribe.
” He slapped her bottom and though she properly chided him, she was secretly happy, remembering the time she had seen Malcolm do the same to his queen.
Then remembering the tunic she had made, she said, “I have something for you when we return to the tower.”
* * *
A feeling of exuberant joy seemed to permeate the very walls of the tower on the day of the wedding. Everyone’s face bore a smile.
Catrìona’s work in the village had brought her many friends; Audra’s kindness garnered the people’s love; and Fia was admired for having snagged the bard all the women wanted, many saying the fairies must have aided her.
When Catrìona told Fia of the rumors, she laughed. Rhodri, when he heard of it, vowed to compose an ode to the fairies that had helped him win his bride.
In her chamber, Deidre and a servant, sent by the queen to help the brides, brought out the gowns they had decided to wear: sapphire for Fia because it was Rhodri’s favorite color for her and matched her eyes, gold for Audra for it brought out the gold in her hazel eyes and green that was the color of the forest for Catrìona because Steinar told her he would ever think of her as his tree nymph.
Each wore a circlet of silver and gold around her crown, gifts from the queen, leaving their long tresses free down their backs. After this day they would wear the circlets over the headscarves that would mark them married women.
The night before, Catrìona had given Steinar the blue tunic she made for him, embroidered with silver and gold falcons and quills.
“ ’Tis the color of your eyes,” she told him as she proudly placed it into his hands.
“It may not be the fine stitching of the other ladies, but know that I did it myself.”
“In truth, I was worried when I saw the tunic you embroidered for Colbán,” Steinar had said. “I believed it a sign you agreed with his request for your hand.”
“At the time, I knew nothing of it,” she had assured him.
“Colbán asked me to embroider the tunic. His request, so unforeseen, quite startled me. But the doing of it gave me the idea to make this one for you.” She looked into the face of the man she loved.
“The one for Colbán was something I did as one of the queen’s ladies.
This one I did for love of the man who would wear it. ”
Beaming, he had held it up and studied the silver and gold threads that marked the quills and outlined the falcons, filled in with flaxen thread. She had labored much to get the design just right. “You are too modest, little cat,” he had said. “ ’Tis truly magnificent. I will wear it proudly.”
* * *
Margaret stood with her husband, watching her three ladies and the men who would soon be their husbands take their places in front of the chapel door.
The Culdee monk in his gray cowl robe who was to perform the ceremony seemed a bit overwhelmed by having to wed three couples, but he managed, in spite of it, to pronounce the words that saw them wed.
All of Dunfermline looked on, smiling their pleasure.
As the couples walked back to the tower for the feast that would follow, Margaret slipped her arm through her husband’s and leaned in to ask in a whisper, “What was it Colbán said to you that made you switch the brides at the last moment?”
“He apologized for being remiss in telling me that Audra had declared she loved him no matter he was from Moray. It seems he returns her affection.”
“What about Catrìona?”
“At the same time he became aware of Audra’s feelings, he realized the redhead favored the scribe. Colbán’s words were, ‘Hurled herself into the scribe’s arms when he rescued her from the Northman, not a glance for me though I lay wounded and bleeding on the deck!’.”
“Ah,” said Margaret, “so my first instinct was correct. ’Twas Catrìona for Steinar all along.”
He pulled her close and kissed her on her cheek. “Just so, mo cridhe.”
The celebration that day brought a warm gladness to Margaret’s heart, seeing her ladies happily wed to good men. And that night when she said her prayers, she had much to be thankful for.
* * *
The feasting had gone on for some time when, ignoring the jests from the men in the hall, Steinar led Catrìona to the stairs, eager to be alone with his bride.
The celebration in the hall would continue late into the night but not with them.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw Rhodri and Colbán coming behind him, their brides in tow.
Catrìona’s hand was cold in his as they ascended the stairs. She is nervous. He gave her a reassuring look. “Trust me, little cat. I will see my beautiful bride happy this night.”
“You promise?”
He expected to see mirth dancing in her green eyes but, instead, he saw uncertainty and, mayhap, a little fear. “Aye, I promise. Have I not waited months for you, desperate to have you for my own even though I believed the king would give you to another?”
“Yes.” Her green eyes sparkled like jewels. “Oh, yes, you did.”
“Then trust me to be patient this night and make our joining a sweet one.”
They turned down the corridor, her smile telling him all he needed to know.