He merely smiled, and even as Katrin joined the two men, he said in his musical voice, “I am pleased, Chief MacMurtray, if I brought ye some pleasure. ’Tis all the reward I require.”
“Still and all,” Da said, the remnants of the magic Finlay had summoned still visible in his eyes, “I do no’ ken when I ha’ enjoyed aught so well. Ye took me right out o’ mysel’, ye did.”
Finlay’s smile put twin dimples in his cheeks, visible despite the reddish beard that grew there. Not a full beard such as Da or, indeed, Katrin’s late brother had worn, but more a suggestion that it had been over long since he’d employed his razor.
Geordie.She could not let herself think of him. Even though…
Her brother’s death, which occurred in a terrible accident while he was training to fight for a free and independent Scotland, had changed all their lives irreparably. She had lost her closest friend. Da had lost the pride of his heart. And the clan now stood without an heir to take up the reins should—God forbid—anything happen to its chief.
She looked the bard in the eyes. Och, indeed, and extraordinary eyes they were now that she got so close a look at them. Green as the fir trees that grew on the rise above the keep.
“A fine evening’s entertainment, Master Finlay,” she congratulated him. “But ye will be tired now and eager for yer bed. Let me show ye where ye will sleep.”
“Mistress—Katrin, is it?”
“Aye. Come along wi’ me.” She leaned up and kissed her father’s cheek. “Good night, Da. I hope ye will sleep well.”
“Wi’ all those pictures o’ my ancestors in my head? Och, if I do sleep, I do no’ doubt I will go to dreaming o’ voyages and battles.”
Katrin smiled at him, one of the rare smiles she reserved for those she loved. She hoped his dreams were pleasant. Since word ofGeordie’s death had come, since the terrible day his poor body had returned home, he’d had little true rest.
As had she.
“You had best wrap up your harp,” she told Finlay. “I am sorry to say we must go outside to reach yer quarters. Ye can hear the rain.”
Da stepped away to his departing guests. Katrin stood and watched as Finlay wrapped the instrument in an oiled cloth, employing great care.
“’Tis a bonny instrument,” she observed. Carved it was with scrolled lines and leaves, fashioned from a deep, burnished brown wood.
He glanced up from his task, granting her another of those flashing smiles. “She is my greatest treasure.”
“She?”
“I call her Brada. All the most favored harps are granted names, ye ken.”
Such fancy! But Katrin had to admit, the instrument deserved a name. To look at him, she would not think so humble a traveler could boast such an instrument. The rest of his belongings—the frayed pack, the shabby boots, the clothing not fine but worn with a certain flash—did not match it.
“Ye never fashioned such a harp yourself?”
“Och, nay. ’Twas made for me in Ireland.”
“Ye ha’ been to Ireland?” She had not, though she’d always harbored a secret desire to see the place. Especially now, in light of the tales he had told.
“Och, aye. Mistress Katrin, I ha’ been most everywhere in the Celtic world, learning and collecting songs. Erin, Wales, the Isle of Man. Even to Brittany.”
“Aye, so?” That impressed her, though she would not let on. Katrin was a woman who rarely admitted to being impressed by anything. “Well then, if ye ha’ finished bundling the grand harp, follow me.”
“Aye, thank ye.”
They went out into the driving rain, Katrin pulling the hood of her cloak, which she’d retained against the cool damp in the hall, up over her hair. She went swiftly, and Finlay kept up with long strides.
Katrin had a sudden vision of him loping over heather-clad hills on those long legs of his, heading God knew where.
She stopped in front of a low hut and pushed her way in. Lit a candle with dripping hands.
“This is one o’ the huts where we billet our visitors’ attendants,” she explained as he stepped in behind her. She gazed about. The place suddenly looked too plain for a man of his talents. A bit doubtfully she said, “I hope ye will be comfortable enough here. ’Tis yours for as long as ye wish to stay.”
“I shall be more than happy here.” But focused once again on Katrin, he barely spared a glance for the small room.
