“I really left Rousay,” Elene whispered.
“You did.” Liam’s smile encouraged her as her heart finally slowed from its hammering pace. “We sail to Tingwall on the eastern shore to deliver seed. From there, we sail to Kirkwall to deliver the whisky and receive the ale. Henry and Dillon will remain with the boats and stay in the village. They both have family there. We’ll ride to Dingieshowe. I expect to stay there for three or four days. I am to meet several chieftains at theirthing. If I visit their public assembly, then I can represent my grandfather to more leaders.”
Elene shivered in mock fear. “Legend says the ancients burned a witch alive in Dingieshowe, and her head still appears in the sand. They also say that the great Norseman pirate Sweyn Asleifsson used to visit his uncle in Tingwall. Helgi was a chieftain.” Elene grew serious, and this time the apprehension was real. “You can see the isles of Wyre, Egilsay, and Rousay from there.”
“I know, but we’ll be much too small for anyone to know who’s who.” Liam had already considered how short the distance was between the islands. He worried Tingwall would be the first place Gunter looked. He’d thought to spend the full day and a night in the village, but now he planned to keep their visit short and reach Kirkwall before nightfall. He would order Henry and Dillon to stow the curraghs farther along the Peedie Sea’s coast. They could ride back to see their families in Kirkwall. He considered the merits of leaving Kirkwall and making camp somewhere away from the shore on the way to Dingieshowe. He would have to see what they accomplished that day.
Liam relayed the new plan to his men, who looked in Elene’s direction, knowing she was the cause for the change in itinerary. Liam watched their expressions and saw no hostility, just curiosity. He gave thanks that no one begrudged Elene’s presence. At least not yet. He hoped explaining her circumstances would ease any resentment or dissention before it began.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard Elene’s situation with Gunter. Having met the man, I believe Elene’s fears are legitimate. As Highlanders, as Christians, and as Sinclairs, we are duty bound to keep any person from being sold into slavery. Elene travels with us under the pretense that she’s my wife. While I speak Norn almost like it’s my first tongue, there may be times when she can interpret for me while I meet the chieftains at thething. I see it as a blessing in disguise that she’s with us.” Liam continued to watch his men. He saw the notes of surprise when he mentioned they would pretend Elene was his wife. A couple of men shot him smirks. It was clear none of the men believed it would be a hardship for Liam. “We must treat her with the same dignity and deference we do Lady Siùsan, my mother, and all my aunts. Remember, in their eyes, she is the future Lady Mackay.”
Liam hoped that reminder would keep any of the men from smirking in front of Elene. He knew she couldn’t understand what they said amongst themselves, but she was astute. She would perceive any questionable comments, and he didn’t want her to catch any mocking miens. He prayed he didn’t misspeak among the Orcadians and giveaway their ruse. It was only a matter of minutes before they would arrive.
“Elene, if you were my wife, you’d deserve the title ‘Lady,’ so that is how I will introduce you. I want people to believe we married for some time ago, so if questioned by any Norsemen, they won’t think we just met. I haven’t been to Kirkwall in two years, so no one knows whether I’ve visited other parts. We can’t say we’ve been married longer than that because the chieftain knows I was unwed then, but everywhere else we can say at least five years.”
“There’s a village on the way to Kirkwall called Isbister. My father’s people were from there before some settled in Skaill, and it’s how we got our name. I still have family there, and when my father used to take me fishing, we would stay for a night or two. I know this coast well and several of the villages. If anyone asks questions, I should be able to answer.”
The curraghs nudged the sandy shore, and a couple horses whinnied. Liam helped Elene avoid soaking the hem of her skirts. It gave him the excuse to lift her into his arms and carry her to the grass beyond the moist sand. He enjoyed the feel of her arms locked around his neck and how her head rested against his shoulder. He regretted having to put her down. He sensed she felt the same since she was slow to release him and didn’t pull away when her feet settled on the ground. His hands rested on her waist as their eyes met. Elene found reassurance in Liam’s steady gaze. She offered a subtle nod before they turned toward the village and the approaching people. While the Sinclair men and Dermot led the horses to graze, Liam slid his arm around Elene’s waist.
Once they stood before the village’s chieftain and council, Liam withdrew his arm and laced his fingers with Elene. She leaned against him, suddenly nervous about pretending to be a noblewoman. No one would expect her to have been one from birth if she came from the hamlet of Isbister, but they would expect her to know how to act like one since supposedly they married years ago. She opted to remain quiet.
“Liam Sinclair!” A bear of a man clasped Liam’s forearm and thudded his hand against Liam’s back.
“Mawnus Leith!” Liam returned the embrace before leaning away. “Grandfather said you’d become the new chieftain six moons ago, but I can't believe the lad I used to build sand pies with is now chieftain.”
“Yes, well, Johne wasn’t fit anymore.” Mawnus tapped his temple. “So the council elected me.”
When Mawnus’s attention turned to Elene, Liam beamed. “Mawnus, this is my wife, Lady Elene.” Liam stopped before sharing Elene’s surname. He recalled she would now be a Mackay if they’d married.
“Wife? When did that happen?” Mawnus didn’t hide his surprise. “I didn’t imagine you’d settled down already. I know I don’t intend to do so anytime soon.”
Liam looked down into Elene’s upturned face, and his admiration was genuine. “Five years ago.”
“Five? Do you have a passel of bairns waiting for you to return?”
Liam froze, and he saw the nervousness enter Elene’s eyes. “We haven’t been so blessed yet, but then I enjoy not sharing my wife’s attention.” The only falsehood in the statement was calling Elene his wife.
“Not livingupto the task?” Mawnus waggled his brows.
Liam scowled at Mawnus, displeased at how his childhood friend embarrassed Elene by discussing their supposed intimacies in front of her. “There are precautions to take. As I said, I’m not ready to share Lady Elene’s attention. There are plenty of years for bairns in the lifetime to come.” He squeezed her hand before looking back at his men. They nearly finished unloading the grain sacks.
“Will you come with me to the mead hall and share the midday meal?” Mawnus changed the topic, noting he would do well not to further insult the grandson of the Earl of Caithness. Once Liam and Elene sat at the high table and a servant placed a trencher between them, Liam read the decree to Mawnus, who couldn’t do it himself. The chieftain nodded as he watched his villagers gather. When Mawnus introduced Liam, it was with more finesse and subtlety than Androw had used.
“It is an honor for me to represent my grandfather and all the Sinclairs as I tour Orkney. You know my family, both the Sinclairs and the Mackays, have ties to these islands since the days of the early Norse settlers.” Liam caught himself before he called them invaders. He doubted that would be appreciated. “We have traded with you alongside our Norse counterparts, and we look forward to continuing as we have. My grandfather doesn’t wish to change that. Rather than paying your taxes to the Norse crown, you now pay it to the Scottish. Your daily lives shouldn’t change.”
“Until the Norse no longer come,” a man called out.
“The Norse settled on Orkney because their homeland isn’t as good for farming as the land here. That hasn’t changed. They need the trade, so they will continue to come. King David and King Haakon Haakonsson agreed business would continue as it has for generations. It benefits both countries and the people of Orkney.” Liam prayed his words allayed their fears, but he understood that only time would prove it to the Orcadians.
Mawnus raised his mead horn and proclaimed, “Hail King David.”
While the villagers’ enthusiasm didn’t match Mawnus’s, there wasn’t a tone of resentment. Liam counted this as a success. But only a moment later, his heart sank.
“Lady Elene, you wear Orcadian clothes, and you have an Orcadian name. From which isle do you hail?” Mawnus only spoke Norn, which meant he was certain Elene understood.
Elene smiled warmly, even as her left knee bounced in anxiousness. Liam’s broad palm rested upon her thigh, the heat soothing her, and its presence giving her confidence. “This one, Chieftain. My father’s people hail from Isbister. I find my Orcadian clothing more comfortable for the climate here, so I wear them when I’m not at home at Varrich.”
“Are you an Isbister?” Mawnus pressed.
