Sometimes goodness does prevail, especially at Yule.
Chapter 17
Blackie’s longhouse
A Yuletide feast, one of many
A sennight later…
“Did ye enjoy my Yule gifts?”
Devorgilla of Doon sat at the festive high table and raised a mead horn as she peered at Callum and Alanna. As on Wind-Dancer, she’d added a horned helm to her all-black garb, though this night sprigs of holly and mistletoe dangled from the horns.
Callum didn’t care to peek at her boots, sure red sparkles would burst from her red-plaid shoelaces.
A sight he’d seen often enough and didn’t care to witness again.
As he’d thought at sea, the old gal was losing her touch – not that he’d complain, now that he and Alanna had found each other, and after so many years.
Gods be thanked.
But Devorgilla hadn’t brought gifts to Blackie’s Yule feast.
The gift was learning the truth of theYuletide Lovers. As far as he was concerned, he was good for gifting for another thousand years and then some.
Alanna was all he wanted.
And as she’d shown him every night this past week, she felt the same.
She loved him, she’d vowed – in memory and now.
Nothing would ever part them again. He just wished he had a Yule gift for her, though he did have an idea…
He would have her stony heart set in silver, made into a necklace. A keepsake she could wear all her days. She didn’t need to toss the fossilized wood into the fire for its magic to work.
They were the magic of theYuletide Lovers.
And so he wanted to honor the two pines, thank them for their devotion.
“Are you not surprised she’s here?” Alanna leaned in, spoke at his ear. “I must admit I’m awed, having never met her till now.”
Be glad, Callum almost said, but caught himself in time.
He did owe the great lady.
Especially for the woman he’d soon make his wife, Blackie having agreed to preside over the ceremony – a fine traditional one, carried out in the old ways of the Norse.
“You didn’t answer me, laddie.” Devorgilla was suddenly right beside him, in the spot where, a moment before, Grim was knocking back mead and slipping Gubbie bits of smoked herring and cod under the table.
“He’s away to his lady wife, Breena,” the crone declared, cackling. “Said he was missing her sorely at Yule and so I agreed to grant him a speedy journey back to her side.”
Callum almost choked on his mead.
Alanna did, though Devorgilla wriggled a gnarly finger her way and the choking stopped.
“I have great powers,” she boasted. “Nae man should doubt me, or the wonder of Yule.”
“Oh, we know and are grateful.” Alanna felt Gubbie rub against her ankles beneath the table, a sure sign Grim was indeed gone.
