Susan King - [Celtic Nights 01] (34 page)

"Long and long ago," the bard said, "into the mists of time:, a warrior called Conall of the Victories traveled with four of his comrades into the west. They saw a green and beautiful isle sparkling on the water, and fetched themselves a boat, and sailed there to seek adventure, which is what they found.

"The king of the green isle had a beautiful daughter whom he had placed inside a high tower of silver, with a door of bronze and a roof thatched in white birds' wings. This tower rested on tall pillars. And the king told Conall that whoever could bring the princess out of that tower should have her for his wife, and have the green isle for his own when the old king died."

As he spoke, Robert, Hugo, and the others leaned closer to hear Alainna's quiet translation. Sebastien listened to both Alainna and Lorne, and felt the warmth of her body, so close to his, flow through him, a sensation like mellow wine. The vibration of her voice entered his chest, and he closed his eyes.

Peace enveloped him like mist in a forest. He savored the feeling, uncertain if it was created by the soothing echo of two beautiful voices; or the warm pressure of her body beside his; or perhaps it came out of the serene, listening mood in the room. He did not know. He only wanted to feel it envelop him, rare and warm.

".... And after all the warriors had tried and failed, finally Conall gave a mighty shove, and pulled down the pillars that held the tower," Lorne said. "The princess fell out and into his arms. When he held her and looked into her eyes, love turned within his breast like a living thing...."

Sebastien opened his eyes. He knew that feeling well. He glanced at Alainna, and she looked at him, pausing in her translation, as if she shared his thoughts.

"But Conall knew that his companion Mac Morna loved the princess of the silver tower too," Lorne went on. "And Conall loved his friend, for he was the friend of his soul. Whoever wed the princess would stay on the green isle forever. Mac Morna was ready for such peace in his life, while Conall hungered for more adventures. His heart was torn.

"Then he turned and handed the girl into the arms of his friend. And Conall told the king that Mac Morna had taken down the pillars and won the princess...."

Something intangible constricted in his chest. He knew what heaven it was to hold Alainna. He could not imagine giving her into another man's arms, to be another man's wife.

He knew now how much he wanted her; he knew he had been a fool to think he could leave her. Handfasted for the price of a contract and a charter, bonded by a king's order. But a deeper bond had somehow formed between them, when neither of them had wanted that to happen.

Pride, his and hers, could break that bond like an iron mallet on stone. He closed his eyes in anguish.

Hearing Lome and then Alainna stop their narratives, hearing the delicate sounds of the silver branch again, he opened his eyes. Alainna smiled at him.

"That tale is one of my favorites," she said, still leaning into his side.

"A marvelous story," he murmured. He felt a smile rise from his heart to his eyes to his lips.

He was glad, just then, that the bench was crowded, so that Alainna had to press so closely against him. He was glad that he had not sought his customary place in a shadowed corner, as he had originally thought to do, even now.

And he was glad that he had taken the handfasting vow with her, if only for a little while. No matter what the future held for either of them, he would treasure what this day had wrought.

* * *

"The priest is drunk," Una said. Alainna peered around Sebastien's shoulder to look at Father Padruig, who sat at Sebastien's other side.

"What, already?" Niall said, sitting across the table. "He usually waits until the stories are done. Here, Padruig, give me that." He swiped the sheep's bladder out of the priest's uncertain grip and put it to his own mouth, swallowing lustily. He set it down and grinned at Una. "There, less for him, see."

Una eyed them both with disgust. "He has hardly been here for a few hours, since the handfasting ceremony ended, and already he is foolish with drink."

Father Padruig looked up. "I am not foolish," he said expansively, "and my friend Niall of the One Hand told me what was said at the ceremony.
Ach!
I am unhappy to have missed it! Niall says it brought a tear to his eye."

"It did that," Niall agreed. "And if you had witnessed it, we would be celebrating a marriage and not a handfasting." He and the priest snorted with laughter.

Una made an impatient sound. "This one is not drunk," she told Padruig, pointing to Sebastien as if he was exemplary. "And he has been sipping the water of life along with the rest of you. And you a priest!" She shook her head and walked away.

"I am a fine priest," Padruig said defensively to the air.

"You are," Niall agreed. He slanted a look at Sebastien. "How is it this knight is not drunk, if all he ever had before he came to Kinlochan was French wines and thin English ale?"

"I was raised on Breton wine, which should be sipped cautiously, and only while leaning against a wall." Sebastien smiled languidly and looked at Alainna, his gray eyes sparkling. She smiled, amused.

"When you go there, bring some back for us," Niall said.

"He cannot do that for a year," Padruig said. "He cannot go to Brittany or anywhere for a year and a day, unless he takes Alainna with him. And she will not go!" He tugged the bladder from Niall's single hand.

Sebastien looked at Alainna. "What is he talking about?"

She looked down, her heart thumping. "He means that if you leave me for more than three nights in a row, the handfasting is annulled."

"Annulled?" he asked.

"As if it never happened," she said.

He stared at her. Then he looked away suddenly, frowning as he, turned his half-empty cup in his fingers.

She glanced away. "I did not know it myself until earlier today. I thought you would be glad to hear about it," she murmured. "Since... you must go away."

Sebastien did not reply. Unable to read his silence, as she often could do, she did not know if he was pleased or displeased with the revelation.

"That nuptial contract that I wrote out for you is now signed and valid." Padruig leaned toward Sebastien. "But it needs a marriage to keep it so. Be careful that you do not go anywhere without her, eh!" He grinned sloppily.

"Alainna will not leave Kinlochan," Niall said. "She takes after her kinswoman Esa. The roots of home and hearth are deep in both of them."

"What more should I know about handfasting that I do not?" Sebastien asked, his tone grim. Alainna glanced sharply at him.

"If you bed her, you wed her," Padruig said. "That makes a marriage union in the eyes of God, if not the Church."

"That I know," Sebastien said in a low growl, a muscle flashing in his jaw.

"And as far as I am concerned, as a priest, a bedding is a marriage, no matter if you undo the vows or not," Padruig said sternly, summoning himself to stare hard at them both. "Handfasting is allowed by old Celtic law, you see," he said, wagging a thick finger in the air. "But Holy Mother Church in Rome does not recognize such unions." He shrugged. "Still, if you leave her, and do not return for three days or more, by custom, she is not your handfasted wife, and never was."

"And all your fine poetry will be wasted," Niall lamented, his eyes reddening. The priest handed him the bladder.

Sebastien sat wordlessly beside Alainna. He did not look at her, nor did he cease to turn his cup around as if its simple design fascinated him. Yet she felt the deep pull of his thoughts like a strong, unseen cord between them.

Bedding made a marriage, she told herself; regardless of vows spoken or cast aside, in the eyes of God they would be wed forever if they gave in to the delicious temptations that she had sampled already with him. She glanced at Sebastien, but he did not look at her. She sighed.

"So you had best think carefully," Father Padruig said, sober in tone. "Handfasting is never a step to take lightly."

"I know, Father." Sebastien gave Alainna a quicksilver glance. She felt it through to her toes, like a physical touch.

"But then you both obey royal orders," Niall said, grinning. "What is the problem? The thinking has been done, eh? And now you will find peace and happiness together, as the king wishes for you, and as we all wish for you." He smiled at them.

Sebastien angled his head, a slight frown puckering his brow. Alainna turned away, her cheeks heating, desire spinning in her belly just from looking at him, just from sitting beside him.

She glanced up as Giric and Lulach sat down at the table on either side of Niall. Not long ago, she had noticed them laughing with Robert and some of the Norman knights. Now the room quieted again, for Lorne leaned his harp against his thigh and began to play a soft melody. Alainna relaxed, resting an elbow on the table as she listened. She yawned.

"Bed soon, eh?" Lulach asked, and winked at her.

She blushed. "I did not sleep well last night. I worked late at my carvings."

"No more of that, eh, Sebastien?" Niall chuckled.

Sebastien did not reply, but folded his arms on the table and faced Giric. "Tomorrow or the next day, if weather permits, I will take some men and ride through the northwestern part of Kinlochan."

"To measure the boundary?" Giric asked.

"That, and to look for renegades. One of the tenant farmers that I met the other day told me that he saw a man hiding in one of the caves in those hills a few days ago. He thought it might be one of the rebel Celts. That fellow we saw fighting the wolves could be one of them, since you and Alainna did not recognize him. I will continue to search. The rebels will be seeking support from the Highlanders in this area."

Alainna cleared her throat. "Clan Laren does not support the MacWilliam cause. I speak as chief of my clan."

"As it should be, but the rumors of rebels are persistent," Sebastien said. "There is at least one of them around here. The tenant said that he has heard that the MacWilliams are coming back from Ireland one by one."

"I, too, have heard that," Father Padruig said. "One by one, each preparing the way for the rest, going quietly about the Highlands to raise support for their cause. Later they mean to gather together in a strong force."

Alainna bit anxiously at her lower lip as she listened. She thought of Ruari, safely hidden on the little island; she could guess what Sebastien would think of that, but she wondered what the rest of her kinsmen would do if they discovered the truth. Would they support Ruari, or turn him over to the crown?

"Ruari MacWilliam is gone," Giric said firmly, without looking at Alainna, "so the rebels have no leader in Scotland."

"If he were alive he would come here," Niall said. "I wonder if his kinsmen seek supporters in our region."

"They will not find it here," Lulach said. "We never followed Ruari in his clan's cause, though we would have watched his back because he was marriage kin to us."

"Hush, all of you," Alainna said, leaning forward. "Do not let Esa hear you speak of Ruari." She glanced at Esa, who sat with Una, Morag, Beitris, and Niall's quiet wife, Mairi. Esa smiled graciously at those around her, the glow of happiness so evident on her face that Alainna smiled to herself, glad to have had some part in that joy.

"Would you help him now, if he were here?" Sebastien asked.

Alainna clasped her hands beneath the shadow of the table, grateful that Sebastien had looked at the men and not at her.

"Ruari
Mor
was a great man," Lulach said. "A mighty warrior and a man who should have been a king, if kings were chosen for their worth and strength. I would not hesitate to help the man if I saw him here and now, and I would fight at his back to defend him. But I would not help his clan's cause."

"I, too, would watch Ruari's back, were he but a ghost," Niall said. "I loved the man well. He had a lion's heart and a lion's pride. But the rest of his clan are hot-tempered and overproud, and I do not care for them."

Alainna looked at Giric, and saw him watching her, somber and knowing. Beside her, Sebastien frowned thoughtfully.

"It would not surprise me if Clan Nechtan is involved with the MacWilliams," Lulach said then.

"Cormac claimed complete loyalty in his letter to the crown," Sebastien said. He glanced at Padruig. "Did you write out his petition for him?"

"I did," Padruig answered. "He insists on his loyalty, and that much you know. As his priest, and as the grandfather of his little son, I cannot say more."

"We can see in your face what you think," Niall said grimly. "You would not go far out of your way to defend the man."

Padruig grabbed the bladder and took a drink, wiping his mouth and exhaling hard.

Alainna leaned forward, eager to change the subject. Her heart leaped nervously at every mention of Ruari and Cormac. She hated to think that Ruari might have come back to the region only to seek support from Cormac. If that was so, her own loyalty would be badly torn.

"Look there," Niall said. "Una and the rest of them are coming over here. They must be thinking it is time these two bound themselves further." He grinned at Sebastien.