She walked away, again gathering stares, and heard him call his men back to work in a great voice.
Och, what had she done? He was like a bear, a big golden one. She had poked the bear. One never knew what a roused bear might do.
For the rest of that day, she lost herself in chores and duties, ortried to do. Da had sent his messenger off to Earl Randolph. He seemed to be on edge, even though getting any sort of reply could take days.
Once again, only O’Hanlon and his commanders would join them for supper. The rest of the Gallowglass were content to prepare their own food at their makeshift camp. But as Da told her, he had agreed to supply them while they were there. So Katrin met with a member of the troop who acted as their steward.
His name was Daffid, and he was a Welshman, big and brown-haired, with broad hands and dark eyes. He sought her out just before supper and said in a musical voice, “Mistress, I hear ye have supplies for me.”
“Aye. Come, tell me what ye require.”
He accompanied her to consult with seneschal and then to the larder, still wet from his day’s work in the rain. His manner was polite and, for such a big man, gentle. When they finished their business, he stood for a moment outside the storage hut and gazed out to sea.
“’Tis a fine holding, this. It does, just, remind me of home.”
That surprised her. Did strapping warriors such as this get homesick? And whyever should she suppose not?
“From whence in Wales d’ye hail, Master Daffid?”
“A place called Angelsea. On the ocean, not unlike this. But you do understand, much more humble. ’Twas a humble life, ours. I could not feed myself. ’Tis why I took up the sword.”
“I see. How long since ye went home?”
“Ah—ages now.” He pursed his lips. “My mother will be dead. My brothers will have split up our small plot o’ land.” He let his gaze rove over the sea again, and Katrin felt his longing.
Aye, men such as this grew homesick.
“A fine place, this,” he repeated softly, “and something to fight for.”
Katrin agreed. She wished suddenly she’d approached this man,who had something gentle inside him, for training. But he would no doubt have had to go to O’Hanlon anyway, for permission. Still and all, she found the prospect of facing the Gallowglass commander…intimidating.
Do not be a fool,she told herself.Ye be a strong woman, intimidated by no man.
Yet not until after supper, when Master Finlay took up his harp to play for a much smaller company, did she relax. With his music, her cares seemed to lift and fly away from her, and she remembered other things. The beauty of his stories and the love of which he had sung.
One so brave and strong, it withstood time itself.
She sat listening with her eyes closed and visions in her head, and her heart longed—just a bit—for such a love. But she was not a woman who succumbed to such feelings.
She was a woman who desired the feel of a sword in her hand.
Chapter Nine
Though Katrin wasnot in the habit of creeping about her own holding for any reason, she did so after dark that evening, donning her cloak and secreting beneath it her sword.
Her sword.
The one Geordie had given her long ago.
She remembered that moment all too well. He’d been resting after training—and a braw, sunny afternoon it had been, with high white clouds chased by a fair wind.
The sun had shown full into Geordie’s gray eyes when he looked at her.
“Geordie, will ye train me to fight?”
She’d been perhaps thirteen and him not a year older. Indeed, he’d only begun his own training recently. Had he been older, would he have refused her request?
Instead he’d told her to meet him behind the armory, where he would find her a sword—this very sword. He’d presented it to her with the air of a man who knew everything in the settlement would one day be his. Theirs.
