“Aidan seems to think ’tis important to keep that fact foremost in our tribe.”
“And is that why ye refer to yerselves as a tribe?”
Malcolm chuckled, and his cheeks reddened. “My mistake. Aidan does not believe we should be speaking openly about that fact.”
He pulled up the long sleeve of his tunic to reveal the dark coloring of an odd symbol tattooed on his lower arm. “And yet, I was given this after Domelch and I had been wed and came to live here among her people.”
“Does it mean ye are married?”
“No.” Malcolm laughed. “It means I have been accepted into this tribe—” He flashed a smile. “I mean clan. Come.” He handed the jug back to Lachlann. “Let us see to these skins.”
“I know little about the Picts.” Lachlann pushed the jug into the sandy ground to secure it and followed Malcolm to the skins.
“I never had much interest in them. Not until I came here to live. Aidan is a great storyteller, although I’m not sure where he gets his stories from.”
“Our clan tells stories as well. Stories of our great warriors. Or great battles. That is how we keep our past from being forgotten,” Lachlann said.
“Ah, that is how we remember the power the Picts once had and remind ourselves that we will be powerful again.”
A dark cloud drifted by the sun, casting them in shadows. Lachlann steeled himself against the involuntary shiver that began at the back of his neck.
“Powerful again?” he asked.
Malcolm nodded. “Aidan believes we can work toward being as powerful as the Picts were so that we will be able to take care of our own.” He shook out the seal skin, stiff from drying, and spread it across the trestle. “We will again have land, riches, and power, and we will do so by coming together with the rituals of our past. Like for our solsticeobservance.”
“Observance? Is it similar to a church observance?”
Pagan cultures performed rituals about nature—the creation—as if God himself was unimportant as the Creator of it all. But in the monastery where he’d studied, he was taught the creation was nothing without knowledge of the Creator.
Malcolm shook his head thoughtfully. “A bit like that, but first we must return to the old ways.”
Lachlann accepted the flat stone from Malcolm. It fit perfectly in the palm of his hand.
“There will be much happening at this year’s solstice observance, but ’tis awhile off yet.”
Lachlann didn’t want to seem overly curious so he dragged the flat side of the sharpened rock against the tough skin, the rasping sound surrounding them as they worked. The repetitious movement was oddly soothing.
After awhile, Lachlann asked, “Domelch mentioned she was raised here, but ye were not so how did ye meet?”
“She was brought to our clan as an offering.” Malcolm bent over the skin, smoothing it flat and blowing off the loosened, dried flesh. “We lived along the Spey, among the woods and water, far from this barren grassland of this coast.”
There was bitterness in his tone.
“We were a powerful clan. My grandfather was a bannerman for King Malcolm. When the King married the English princess, we lost favor with him. My uncle ended up leaving the clan entirely and moving here.”
“The first time I remember meeting him was when he came to visit and brought Aidan. They dangled Domelch in front of me like a mouse in front of a hungry falcon.” Malcolm stilled his hand, half stood, and gazed into the distance as if seeing the woman again. “Ripe for the taking. She was introduced as a Pictish princess, from a long line of royalty. I knew little about the Picts, but I knew I wanted her. I was young.”
The man blew out a breath, looking sheepishly at Lachlann, as if he’d said more than he intended.
Lachlann nodded. “A good match. And a fine dowry? Silver? Gold?”
“The finest dowry and the ripest breasts.” Malcolm winked and went back to his scraping.
Lachlann cleared his throat. He bent his back into his work, finding the manual labor relaxing. Finally, he stopped, placing his stone on the bare skin, and stretched his back. “’Tis a lovely day. Mayhap they will catch many fish.”
“Not with Domelch and her need to talk.”
Lachlann grinned then looked around. “Is this not the area breached by the Norsemen?”
