Finlay said nothing. He was good at listening quietly.
“But,” Anders went on heavily, “that is no’ my concern now—though it will be, eh? I canna live forever. We are at war, and me wi’ an obligation toward John Randolph to supply men. Since I ha’ more wealth than men o’ blood, I thought o’ the Gallowglass.”
Finlay nodded. A risky business, taking on mercenaries who could not always be trusted to keep from deserting. Though for all he had heard of the Gallowglass—orderly companies of some renown—they had their own code of honor.
Anders could have chosen worse.
The maid brought their breakfast. Anders set to it like a man without a care in the world, even though trouble still lay in his eyes.
“The troop o’ Gallowglass I have hired will be mustering here, helping to train some o’ my younger lads, and waiting for Earl Randolph’s order to march south. That is why we are tryin’ to find lodgings.”
Finlay nodded.
“I hope, master harper, ye will oblige us by staying on and help to entertain them wi’ yer grand stories, before we ha’ to move out. They are mostly from Ireland, but as I know full well, ye will ha’ stories fro’ there, to their liking.”
“I ha’ stories fro’ Ireland, aye.” Besides the first he’d told here. “It is a generous offer o’ your hospitality, Chief MacMurtray.”
“Nonsense. I ha’ never before heard a shanachie o’ yer skill. It lightens my heart to listen to ye. Now eat yer breakfast. There is a busy day ahead.”
Chapter Three
When Katrin enteredthe great hall and saw her father sitting with the harper, she frowned. A hundred things to do this morn and Da sat chattering away to the minstrel as if they had not a care in the world.
In truth, they had cares aplenty. She had herself been up before dawn, only vaguely glad the fierce rain had ceased while numbering the details in her mind. Since Ma’s death four years ago, she—with the help of Da’s seneschal, Angus—had seen to the running of this place, the small and gritty details that raised life here from subsistent to comfortable. Or so she hoped.
It was a role to which she considered herself singularly ill suited. She detested domestic chores, and, in fact, when Ma was alive, she had run from them at all cost. She had likewise avoided any offers of marriage.
Not that she failed to admire men—from a reasonable distance. She quite liked looking at them, some more than others. A battle-fit fighting man could stir her blood. But she’d yet to meet the man who was not more trouble than he was worth.
The idea of being tied to one in marriage? Bah!
Now she found her father sitting with the harper who was anything but a warrior, although…
As she approached the pair seated at the head table, she put her head to one side. There was something about Master Finlay. She could not lay her finger on what.
In truth, she supposed it was fortuitous she’d caught him here with Da after all.
“Excuse me.” She paused beside them.
Finlay rose smoothly to his feet. She tended to forget how tall he was till she stood beside him, and she was no delicate flower. He did not look so when seated with his harp. For he was slim as a whipcord and graceful in his movements.
“Mistress Katrin.”
“Good morning. I trust ye slept well, Master Finlay?”
“Tolerably well, aye.”
He continued to look at her so, with such close attention. An odd fellow withal.
“Da, we are come up short on housing for the soldiers ye ha’ hired. And that affects ye, Master Finlay, as I am sorry to say. I shall ha’ to change yer lodging. That is, if ye plan to stay on wi’ us.”
He had entertained them all and done it well, but surely he must grasp that this was a house in flux. He might as well clear out of her way.
Da spoke from his bench, not having bothered to rise. “I ha’ just finished asking Master Finlay to stay. He can help to entertain the Gallowglass.”
Katrin tried not to let her annoyance show. “Shall we have need to entertain them? They are but hired soldiers.”
“Highly honored ones. Captain O’Hanlon and his troop are famed across several lands. We were lucky to get them.”
