Rebel Warrior (Medieval Warriors #3) (25 page)

With a rueful glance in Catrìona’s direction, Colbán bowed. “I bid you ladies a good night.”

*     *     *

The next morning, Catrìona and Audra followed Margaret to a nearby copse of trees where they knelt in prayer, watched over by the king’s guard. When they had finished, Margaret took some time to read her Gospels before they returned to the manor to break their fast.

Catrìona’s prayers had been disturbed by horrible images from her dream, but once she was seated at the table and looked across at Steinar’s smiling face, the images faded from her mind. He had come at her scream in the night to comfort her. She could still feel the warm skin of his bare chest against her cheek and hear his beating heart. The memory caused her own heart to race and she forced her gaze to her gruel. What must he have thought?

After a few bites of the gruel, which sadly lacked raisins, she shifted her gaze to the window where sun streamed in through the open shutters, drawing her attention to the trees outside and the sound of chirping birds. “To where do we ride today?”

Next to her, the queen said, “Today we will see a place Duff believes might serve for the inn. Dalgynch is not far and ’twould be a good halfway point for the pilgrims coming from Dunfermline. The Culdees have a small church there. Duff thought they might be willing to have the pilgrims lodged nearby.”

Soon after, they were ready to depart. Catrìona again rode her horse. As before, the queen, her maidservant and Audra rode in the cart. Colbán had tried to dissuade Catrìona from riding, telling her again it was more proper for a lady to ride with the queen, but sensing he did not want to argue with her in front of Margaret, Catrìona prevailed and remained on her horse.

To her mind, the most important person was the queen, who had said nothing of her lady’s decision to ride, only giving Catrìona a knowing smile as the captain reluctantly helped her to mount.

She caught Steinar hiding a smile. He shook his head while stroking the neck of his great black horse. “Best to let the lady do as she wishes,” he said to Colbán. Then, tossing Catrìona a look of feigned disdain, he added, “She usually does.”

The queen looked up, a concerned expression on her face, but Catrìona just laughed. Steinar knew her well. He would never have insisted she sit in the cart with the queen.

Catrìona enjoyed the pleasant morning that took them through green meadows dotted with flowers. Steinar seemed to be in a better mood today as he shared tales of his home and his sister. It seemed Catrìona and Serena had much in common, which the scribe did not seem to mind. He laughed much as he recounted his youth. Catrìona could not help but admire a man who had lost his home and yet could smile.

*     *     *

Even traveling at a leisurely pace, as they did, it was only midday when they emerged from the woods and Steinar glimpsed what he assumed was the small village of Dalgynch in the distance.

A short while later, he called a halt to the column and pulled rein in front of a stone chapel. Next to it was a large cottage where, he supposed, the few monks dwelled. In front of the cottage, a too-thin chicken scratched in the dirt. On the other side of the cottage, a reed fence surrounded a garden as large as the chapel. The plants, grown tall with the summer rains, appeared to be thriving. A few gray-robed monks, bent to harvesting turnips, looked up at their arrival. Beyond the garden, a few cows meandered about in a patch of grass.

Before they could dismount, the door of the chapel flew open and a monk, half-tonsured in the Culdee tradition and wearing a gray woolen cowl and sandals, hurried toward them. Behind Steinar and Catrìona, the king’s captain helped the queen and the women down from the cart. The monk must have recognized the queen, for he bowed low before her and said, “My Lady, I am Oran. Welcome to our humble abode.”

Steinar assisted Catrìona to the ground and she walked the short distance to where Margaret was explaining to the monk their purpose in coming. The monk, a man of middle years with a mild sort of face, appeared delighted with the queen’s idea.

“Many pilgrims pass this way and, while we can accommodate them in the chapel, we cannot provide them lodging. An inn would certainly be desirable.”

With that, Oran, who was nearly as thin as his chickens, escorted Margaret and the three other women into the cottage.

Steinar followed behind them and stood inside the door, waiting to see if Margaret had need of him.

The monk offered the queen a seat, a cup of ale and some bread and cheese. Fanning herself as if glad to be out of the sun, Margaret gratefully accepted the modest provisions.

Catrìona and Audra took seats on either side of their mistress. The maidservant stood to one side.

Steinar approached the queen. “With your permission, My Lady, I will help Colbán to see the tents raised. If you are agreed, I can show your maidservant where yours will be.”

“Of course,” said the queen and waved him off. Her maidservant followed him out the door.

Once the horses had been watered and the men and servants occupied with setting up tents, Steinar pointed out to the maidservant where the queen’s tent would stand. Then he and Colbán went looking for the queen and her ladies.

“I expect we will find the ladies in the chapel,” said Colbán.

“Possibly,” said Steinar, but thinking how eager Catrìona and the queen were to see their project made a reality, he said, “or they might already be looking at sites for the inn.” His conjecture proved correct as they soon discovered.

The women, accompanied by the monk, were studying a plot of open land lying a short distance from the chapel. On one side, a tree-lined burn, about ten feet across, burbled over rocks as it flowed along.

The queen was deep in conversation with the monk, Audra translating the Gaelic. The Culdee was pointing out various features of the land when Catrìona, seeing Steinar and Colbán approach, came toward them, leaving Audra with the queen.

Catrìona’s eyes glistened with excitement. “ ’Tis the perfect place for the inn, do you not think?”

Steinar nodded, but he was more interested in her than the ground they were inspecting. Her auburn plaits shone in the sun like burnished copper. “ ’Tis most entrancing.”

Either she had not understood he was speaking of her, or she chose to ignore it, because she answered her own question. “It will serve the pilgrims well. They will have the chapel in which to pray before going on with their journey, lodging for the night, and vegetables from a larger garden.”

“Aye,” said Steinar, “all that is possible.”

Colbán cast an approving glance at Catrìona. “If the inn is well placed, it can be easily defended.”

Steinar observed the predatory look in the eyes of the king’s captain, as they narrowed on the woman they both desired. Any man would have noticed the way Catrìona came alive as she described the inn she imagined, her beauty only enhanced by her excitement for the new venture.

“The pilgrims will find a welcome resting spot and the Saxons in Dunfermline with little to do will have a new mission,” Catrìona said, glancing back at Margaret, who still conversed with the Culdee. “I think the queen is pleased.”

Margaret looked up and beckoned them to her. As they neared, she said, “Did you know there is an ancient stone cross here?” They shook their heads and the queen’s blue gaze returned to the monk. “Can you show us?” Audra translated.

“Certainly, My Lady,” he said, again with Audra’s assistance. “ ’Tis not far. It marks the end of the chapel property.” Offering his arm, the monk and Margaret strode off, the rest of them following.

The stone cross was immense, taller than any man, and two feet across at the base. It was simple in design with no elaborate carvings, as some Celtic crosses had that Steinar had seen.

Margaret stared at the stone cross for some time before saying, “This must have long been a place of worship to have such an ancient cross. That and your chapel make this the right spot for the pilgrims’ inn.” Smiling at the monk, she said, “Oh, I am glad we have found it so quickly. God Himself must be directing our steps.”

Audra made clear the queen’s words for the monk. Next to Audra, Colbán studied the cross, rubbing his hand over his short red beard. “Might be Pictish,” he said. “ ’Tis old.”

“Do you think so, my lord?” Audra asked solicitously.

The king’s captain nodded, turning his head to Audra. “Aye, my lady.”

Steinar watched the play of emotions that crossed Catrìona’s face as her gaze lingered on Audra and the king’s captain. Was she jealous of Colbán’s attention to her fellow lady? If Catrìona favored Colbán, would Audra’s attention to the captain be of concern? Mayhap it would after what Domnall had done. Then, too, Steinar recalled the way Duff’s daughter had soothed the captain’s anger the night before and wondered whether the gentle Audra harbored feelings for him. And what of Catrìona? Once he and the king’s captain were raised to be mormaers, equal in rank, which man would she prefer as husband? The king favored his captain, but did she? He supposed it mattered little what a woman might wish. The king would decide. But it mattered to Steinar.

The queen stared admiringly at the massive cross. Beside her, the monk said, “There is a set of stones that stand in a circle nearby. You might want to see those, too. ’Tis not known precisely what purpose they served though some say the ancients supposed them to be a dancing ring for the fairies.” Shaking his head, he added, “We try and dissuade the people from such beliefs.”

With Audra’s assistance, the queen was made to understand and replied, “Tomorrow, mayhap.” Placing her hand on her rounded belly, she said, “For now, I think I shall find my tent and rest for a while.”

Audra said a few words to the monk in Gaelic to which he replied, “Of course, My Lady.”

Margaret thanked the Culdee and accepted his invitation to dine with him and the other monks that evening. Then she took Catrìona’s arm and, together with Audra on her other side, walked toward where the cream-colored tents could be seen beneath the shelter of the trees a short distance away.

Steinar followed. At his side, Colbán said, “It seems we have accomplished our purpose here. Mayhap as soon as tomorrow we can leave for St. Andrews.”

“Aye,” said Steinar, “if the queen is feeling well enough. She appeared tired to me. The babe might be robbing her of strength.”

Colbán nodded.

Steinar thought of what must be done. “If our party is to eat this eve, we’d best hunt or the monks will be serving us one of those meager chickens.”

Colbán slapped him on the back. “Aye, a hunt is just what I need.”

*     *     *

As the afternoon waned, Catrìona left Audra, who was napping, to check on the queen. Assured by the maidservant that Margaret was resting and did not have need of her ladies, Catrìona headed deeper into the forest to see to her private needs.

Sunlight pierced the dark green canopy of trees, dappling the forest floor, but less so as the stands of trees grew dense before her. ’Twas not unlike the forest in Dunfermline, filled with chattering birds, but there was something more untamed about it.

Having seen to her needs, she carefully stepped around an outcropping of twisted roots. An animal’s low growl brought the forest to a sudden silence. She froze, her heart racing, then slowly raised her head to the source of the sound. Above her, a giant cat, gray with black stripes, bared its teeth and hissed sharply while sinking its claws into the thick branch on which it was perched. Its pale green eyes narrowed on her as it spit furiously, poised as if to attack.

Catrìona screamed and reared back just as the wild cat stamped forward, hissing and spitting. She reached for her knife sheathed at her hip.

Strong arms surrounded her, pulling her away from the cat. “I will protect you, my lady.” Even without turning, she recognized the voice of the king’s captain. Turning her in his arms, he held her to his hard chest. “Do not fear the beast. My sword is yours to command.”

She gazed into his brown eyes, seeing concern. “I am grateful, sir.” Behind her, the huge cat hissed and growled. She pressed closer to the king’s captain. His tunic smelled of an unfamiliar man’s sweat but she was too afraid to care. Never had she seen an enormous feline like this one baring its knife-like teeth and claws in such a menacing manner.

Colbán bent his head to bring his lips down on hers, kissing her most forcefully. Jerking her head back, she protested, “Nay, sir. Do not. I may fear the teeth of the wild animal but you are not without teeth yourself.”

She looked behind her and, seeing the animal had gone, pushed away from the tall captain. In truth, she feared him as much as the beast.

From the woods came a familiar chuckle. “ ’Twas only a wee cat, more afraid of you than you were of it.”

“Steinar?” Her eyes searched the thick growth of trees for a head of golden hair. She spotted him standing against a tree, his arms crossed over his chest. “ ’Twas no wee cat!” she insisted. “The beast was wild and fierce. It scared me.”

Steinar left the tree to indolently stroll toward her. A glance at Colbán told her the captain was not pleased.

“Tell her, Colbán,” said Steinar.

“Tell me what?” she asked, her gaze darting from one man to the other.

“Well,” Colbán said, shooting Steinar a harsh glare, “mayhap ’twas not so fierce a beast as you thought, but ’twas still wild.”

“You mean not as fierce as you
wanted
me to believe?” she said, feeling anger rising within her.

Colbán said nothing, but Steinar laughed. “Anything to steal the lady’s kiss, eh Captain?”

Colbán let out a sigh and bowed. “My pardon, my lady. I was sorely tempted.”

Having been fooled by the king’s captain into allowing him an intimacy she would never have otherwise, she choked back the angry words she was tempted to utter. Too, she was annoyed beyond measure at Steinar’s finding it amusing when he should have been at least jealous given the kisses they had shared. She gave them both a “H’mf!” and turned on her heels and stomped out of the forest.

As she left, she heard Colbán say to Steinar, “You might have waited.”