Chieftain's Rebel Page 12

One look was all that was needed to tell her Gilda was excited. “I’ve been searching for ye and couldnae find ye at home or in the Hall then someone told me to look in the kitchen.”

  Ainsel forced a laugh, her thoughts still reaching out to Rory while she said, “And here I am. What’s all the fuss? I thought ye would still be busy with Calder the way ye were for most of yesterday.”

  “Aye, well so I was, but honestly, Ainsel, can ye blame me? I’m in love and I’ve decided…”

  Puzzled, she frowned at Gilda asking, “Decided what?”

  “When he leaves for Dun Bhuird, I’m going with him. I just need to find a horse. Do ye think Finn would sell or trade with me for one?”

  Ainsel fought hard to keep the fear out of her voice, “Go with him? This is sudden, Gilda. Are ye sure ye know him well enough? I knew Nils a lot longer afore we wed and look what I got.”

  Gilda sniffed. Ainsel gathered that she had hoped her auldest friend would be as excited as she was about the choice she had made. Her friend’s glance dropped to Axel, asleep in her arms. She recognised that expression, the touch of envy she had felt herself for others with men whau loved them. “Mayhap, but I can see what ye got out of it. Nae one could have a bonnier bairn, and that’s what I want. Ye also got to be a widow and that’s guid fortune for both ye and the bairn, but I’ve yet to be a wife and I’m certain Calder loves me enough to make me his.” Gilda sighed as she lifted her gaze, stared Ainsel straight in the face and told her, “If I go with him to Dun Bhuird, it will give us both a chance to be certain. What I cannae do is let him go away without fighting for what I’m certain Calder and I could have. He came back to Caithness for me, the least I can do is follow him home. I love him so much!” she cried as her voice broke brittle with too much emotion and, aye, honesty.

  Holding Axel in the crook of one elbow, Ainsel reached out and pulled Gilda close. They both stood there hugging each other with the still sleeping Axel squashed betwixt them. Tears flowed but nae word was spoken. What need was there when a sisterly embrace said so much? Gilda was as near to a sister as Ainsel had ever known, and she would miss her when she went south with Calder. That didnae mean she grudged Gilda what she herself would ne’er know, life with a man whau loved her enough to travel all this way to find her again.

  It was true that Rory too had returned, but frae what she could tell, his journey had been made to keep Calder company. She had heard not a whisper about him being at Caithness to search for a woman he had come upon in the darkness during last solstice.

  When their arms fell away she said, “So we had better find ye a horse.”

  Two little lines appeared in the space betwixt Gilda’s gold-coloured brows. “I have a little silver and goods that were my parents’ that I could trade to make up the rest.”

  “Nae, ye must keep yer silver. I have a better notion—one that will cost ye naught but the time to let the horse know ye. Nils had one that Finn occasionally rides, but in truth it’s merely eating its head off at Grandfather’s expense—much like Nils did—ye must take it.”

  Ainsel’s grin was wide, a result of Gilda squealing loud enough to be heard the breadth and length of the Hall. It didnae trouble Ainsel, not even when Rory’s eyes bored into hers across the distance betwixt them. For a moment it felt as if all movement ceased. that even the smoke drifting up to the blackened rafters frae the fire-pit stood still, a pale drift of haze that dimmed the light frae the door. A moment, a lifetime, and all turned back to normal as Gilda grabbed her hand, pulling her back into the kitchens where she had come from, saying with a squeal that woke Axel, “Let’s go see that horse.”

  It took all Rory’s control, his sense of priority, to stop himself frae following Ainsel, even though he sensed the conversation with Olaf had come to a crucial point.

  “Mayhap,” the auld Jarl was saying, “I should just should just lie down on my pyre and we can finish all that needs done at one time.”

  “I’m sorry ye feel I’m doing ye a disservice, uncle. That said, ye asked for a plan, and this is the best I can come up with in so short a time. The lay of the land surrounding the Ness is too open for any sort of surprise. Ye have nae palisade to halt their progress, nae defences. Too much is being left in the lap of the gods.”

  Olaf was the only one of them seated. Frae his lower position, his gaze travelled o’er all their faces: Calder, whau had joined them last, with Rory himself, Finn and Ghillie. “I expect ye think I’m a foolish auld man. I’ve been Jarl of Caithness longer than any of the four of ye have been alive. O’er yon long years I always believed I’ve been a harsh but fair leader, always putting the needs of the settlement first. Can ye blame an auld man for dreaming that after all that time, when I went to Walhalla it would be in the fiercest dragon-boat I could have built.”

  He stopped as if to catch his breath, smoothing one wrinkled hand pitted with dark freckles across the skirt of the long, deer-skin coat he wore, dyed crimson and edged with lynx fur. The coat proclaimed his status while he still lived. Olaf expected the dragon-boat to proclaim his status once he was dead. But when he opened the lips surrounded by white moustaches to speak, Ghillie interrupted. “There will be time to build another dragon-boat afore ye go to that place where the Walkyries ride.” Ghillie paused a moment and bent to take the hand that worried at Olaf’s deer-skin coat. “I promise ye, uncle. There will be danger and turmoil—flames—but ye will still stand Jarl of Caithness once the danger has passed.”

  Rory left it to his cousin and Olaf, staying silent, unwilling to be seen as forcing the auld Jarl’s hand. At last Olaf gave them the permission they needed. “Finn, take Rory and the others to the site of the dragon-boat. Mayhap its fierce visage will be more use frightening Irish than Valkyries. Discover what’s needed to make the plan work and Finn will make sure it’s all to hand.” With that he nodded a dismissal.

  As they strode through the wide doors that let light into the Great Hall and their boots touched the cobbled area fronting the Longhouse, they all turned to Rory with questions in their eyes. Like him, they knew the proposition was risky at best, but it was all they had. If they could ram a fire-ship amongst the Irish boats as they sailed up the Ness, at least they might reduce the number of warriors attacking the settlement. As he looked at all their faces it was Finn’s eyes he caught, “Lead the way, Finn. Ye know it much better than I do.”

  Besides, when he had returned frae the river last night with Ainsel by his side, the sky had been pitch black with clouds covering the moon and, for all it was the solstice and a fine day, he could wish for more clouds tonight and hope for a slight advantage.

  He tried to keep his mind on the plan and off Ainsel as they walked along the shore, the tide was full out, and by tonight it would be in, a fact he depended upon to make his plan work. By the time he had answered all his friends’ questions and listened to what turned out to be excellent suggestions, they had reached the riverbank and, like the others, he followed Finn to the inlet where Olaf’s mighty dragon-boat bobbed at anchor.

  As afore, the red sail covered the funeral pyre, but Rory had seen it last time, and his attention shifted to the crushed grass where he had lain with Ainsel, fathoms deep in need and desperate passion that still left his brain in a spin. Thankfully, the rest of their quartet were far more concerned with the means and the manner which would keep the boat riding with its bow at the point of the inlet that would send it down the river. Added to that, they needed to judge how much rope it would take to accomplish that and whau was going to go back and fetch the coil.

  Calder volunteered, said he would run to the stables, fetch his horse and return to the secret mooring with the rope. Unfamiliarity with the practical routines that Norsemen went through afore a body could be sent to Walhalla made Rory wonder about the differences betwixt Scots and Norse, about lying under the sod with a stone cairn to keep out the wolves as opposed to going up in flames in a dragon boat, yer ashes falling to the bottom of the sea.

  Finn sai
d the rest of them could each carry a barrel of pine-tar back to the boat then douse wooden pyre and boat with the contents ready for the fire-arrow that would set it alight. Which led to an argument about whau was best able with a bow. Someone with a strong arm and guid aim to loose the arrow into the boat while it floated down the Ness toward the Irish.

  One would have thought the danger didnae exist with the amount of laughter ringing, accompanied by a lot of pushing and shoving as they walked back to the settlement, and naught they did would have suggested to anyone the dangerous invasion they were preparing to meet head on.

  Chapter 13

  Calder had set a guid pace, running hard enough to make his chest heave as he approached the stables, yet he enjoyed the exertion, his muscles sang to the tune of the blood pumping through his veins as he grasped the post and swung into the aisle betwixt the stalls. The Caithness stables were protected on only three sides—nae doubt the wind whistled through them in the winter—and the dung heap was fresh with evidence of a recent cleaning, which would be because of the solstice: a fresh start.

  His heart pumped faster as he realised he wasnae alone. Gilda gasped as she recognised him, her eyes widened. It reminded him of the night they had spent out on the water, making guid use of the dragon-boat. He had made her gasp then as well and the thought was enough to send the blood rushing to his groin as he stepped forward, saying her name, “Gilda,” ready to pull her into his arms. It took the sound of a baby’s gurgles to halt him in his tracks. “Ainsel and the bairn. He’s a wee bit young to be learning to ride,” he said, watching the lad wave a hand under a mottled grey’s nose. Unkempt but friendly, the horse blew down its nose, tickling the bairn’s hand, making the lad squeal with excitement. “The lad has nae fear? Does he take after his father or his mother?”

  Ainsel’s smile was thin, meagre, as was her answer, “Mayhap it’s both”—a look that made it difficult to see her as the lass whau had engaged Rory in a practice fight the day afore that looked more as if their hearts were in danger than their lives.

  Calder nodded. “And what makes this ugly beast so fascinating?”

  Gilda covered her mouth with her hand and he could tell she was hiding a smile, but not frae him—mayhap Ainsel but ne’er frae him. But that wasnae the reason she fluttered her eyelashes at him then looked down at her feet. “Ainsel just gave me her horse. It’s mine now.”

  His jaw dropped and he would have spoken when his mind cleared if Ainsel hadnae cut in. “I have to go, Axel needs feeding. I’ll see ye later, Gilda. We can go to the bonfire together.” This time her expression said she expected nae argument frae him.

  She was as guid as her word and left them alone.

  If only he had time for the urges Gilda wrought in him every time he saw her. “Do ye think Ainsel would object if I tagged along with ye both?” He pulled her into his arms, murmuring, “I dinnae want to miss a moment with ye, with all that’s about to come down round our ears. It makes my skin twitch, as if that might not be as long as I hoped for.”

  He kissed her hard and fast, fiercely, with his heart pounding and his hands clenched on her shoulders as if some unseen force might drag her away frae him. “Did I tell ye I love ye?”

  His remark brought a smile to her lips and eyes, lit up her face. “Aye ye did, o’er and o’er. That’s the reason for the horse.”

  “Ye have my permission to call me daft, for I cannae see what a horse has to do with me loving ye. I want ye for yerself not what yer worth, lass.” He spoke forcefully, his mouth close to her ear, needing her to understand how deep in his heart these feeling he had for her resided.

  “The horse is for me to ride when I go with ye to Dun Bhuird. I know that’s going to happen sooner than either of us would want, but here’s the truth of the matter: I cannae bear to be without ye, I love ye too much to lose ye again. It wasnae until ye left last year that I realised how much ye meant to me, but ye were gone and there was nae way for me to follow ye, nae chance of finding my way through all yon mountains and wild country with wolves and bears just waiting for a lass with nae notion of what she was doing or where she was going.”

  The last made him smile. “Aye, I’ve nae doubt bears and wolves would find ye a tasty wee morsel. I do myself.” He planted another swift kiss on her lips. “I wouldnae have left ye behind this time, with or without a horse. Last year I was a dunderhead. Long afore I was back in Dun Bhuird I was regretting that I hadnae tossed ye across my saddle and carried ye off with me.”

  Her new horse nudged him on the shoulder as if saying, ‘What about me? I’ll carry her wherever ye want to go.’

  “I’m not sure of the reception Rory, Ghillie and I will get when we return to Dun Bhuird. Gavyn, Rory’s father expressly warned us not to come because of the looming troubles with the Irish, but it willnae matter a whit as long as yer by my side.”

  He nuzzled the soft skin under her chin, finishing with a wee lick to her earlobe, which he knew she liked and was proved correct as she let out a contented groan. “All ye have to be sure of is that I would have come back for ye on my own. The peculiar part is that Rory was just as determined as I to return, and I dinnae believe it was simply to dance round a bonfire. Truth to tell, I dinnae remember him whooping and dancing at all. Ghillie knows why, but neither he nor Rory is inclined to let anyone else in on the reason, but then Ghillie has the sight, just like his mother, though for some reason neither of them will do aught to force a conclusion. To me that sounds daft but they, it seems, like to leave all our fates in the lap of the gods.”

  Gilda tilted her chin and fixed her mouth against his, as if to prevent him speaking, and she did, asking, once she’d finished, making his knees tremble, “So ye dinnae mind about the horse?”

  “I’m happy ye had the foresight. I wouldnae have minded ye sitting in my lap, but ye will be a lot more comfortable. Ye see I wouldnae like ye to bruise yer tidy wee behind frae the hard length that sticks up under my plaid whenever I’m near ye.” He gripped her by the wrist and pushed her palm against the erect prick under his plaid. “Feel…”

  Her grip had him moaning his desires aloud as, under her hand, the rough worsted caressed the evidence of his need for this woman he loved, felt that he always had and always would love. “Gilda, yer killing me here.”

  “I know. It’s grand is it not, knowing I’m not the only one in thrall to our love? My heart is beating so fast I feel it might burst,” she cried out, her mouth against his chest, her breath dampening the hair growing above the opening of his shirt while her hands reached for his belt buckle. “Have we got time?”

  A swift glance o’er his shoulder was enough to see they were alone. “For ye, my lass, I’ll always have time. Mind ye, we’ll have to be quick,” he warned. Thankfully, her new horse didnae worry about the plaid he threw across its back as he walked Gilda to the rear of the stall, saying a silent prayer of thanks to the gods whau had sent some poor bugger to clean the stables afore he arrived.

  Chapter 14

  With Axel fed and settled, Ainsel lay down on her bed, holding him in her arms while he slept. Last night it had been Rory whau had slept with her in his arms, though sleep had been the least of his needs. She couldnae remember how many times he had come o’er her in the night, hands wringing tender emotions frae her heart. She ne’er once thought of refusing him.

  Loki, the trickster god, was indeed paying her back. The gods had sent her a wonderful bairn, made certain it didnae share a drop of blood with that monster Nils, and she had denied the truth frae both Rory and her son. Too late now to make all right betwixt them, Rory would hate her and more than likely remove Axel frae her care. And whau could blame him?

  She was a coward and a liar. That’s what her brutal life with Nils had done to her, turned her into a replica of Nils—except for one thing, she would ne’er do aught to hurt Axel.

  There was the lie.

  She was hurting her son by refusing to reveal his existence to his father. Her head spun, ci
rcle after circle of thought going naewhere. Clasping Axel to her breast for comfort she cried, salty tears that dripped onto his dark, downy curls.

  The wonder of it was that she had got away with the lie this long. When folk looked at Axel, couldnae they see the likeness—see Rory’s features, softened but exact, on her sons bonnie wee face. It was a wonder Gilda hadnae guessed. Aye, her friend had looked at Axel with envy, wanting a bairn of her own but with Calder.

  Truth, huh, if it truly existed in Ainsel’s world, it was that the roles were reversed. Gilda would go with Calder to Dun Bhuird and together they would make a family. In honesty, Ainsel felt jealous of Gilda, knowing she would have everything Ainsel’s fear had prevented her from having—a man whau wasnae afraid to love her and eager to take her home with him and make a family:

  Rory and Ainsel, living together—mother, father and their son Axel.

  Ghillie’s arms ached frae carrying his share of the pine-tar. Its scent was pungent, a stronger version of the pine trees surrounding the inlet. Why they didnae just add a few extra branches to the pyre he had nae notion, but then that wasnae his ambition in life, or, rather, wasnae the purpose the gods had set for him.

  When he finally reached manhood, naebody would be able to accuse him of being useless; he knew how to defend himself in a fight, either in aid of himself or his clans, for though he was a Comlyn, his father had brought him up as part of the McArthur family.

  He chuckled to himself as he walked, holding the barrel against his belly since its weight made it inclined to slide lower the longer he held it. It was true, what the others had been thinking on: plans like the ones Rory had devised were beyond his ken. He could look at grand structures like Cragenlaw and Dun Bhuird and admire the beauty he saw in them, but he would ne’er be a builder of anything but dreams, sent so he could help others take the right path in life in order that the big plan guiding them all could be accomplished.