Saga turned to him with a beaming smile. “I love this music of yours. Can your man teach us to play?”
“Aye, that he can, and he would be happy to do so.”
She sat back and took a deep breath. “Thank you Giric of Alba. You have given me a gift and I shall never forget it.”
“You are most welcome, Shield-Maiden. Your smile is all the thanks I require.”
With that her cheeks pinked again, and she turned back to Lachlan who had been convinced to play some more.
Chapter Five
Pulling the furs up over her head, Saga tried to block out the images of Giric flooding her mind. Though their chamber was well secured beside Gunnar’s, she could still hear the festivities continuing in the hall. No doubt they would see the sun rise on the morrow. Gunnar had always been careful with them when he felt the men had gotten too full of drink to be trusted.
“You cannot ignore my question all night,” Vigdis said, peering under the furs to make eye contact with her.
“I do not know what question you mean. I believe tomorrow’s feast shall top tonight’s. Wouldn’t you agree?” Saga asked, trying desperately to change the subject.
“Since you’ve never taken any interest in what was served at these feasts as long as your kill was the central display, I cannot imagine you are doing anything now but trying to avoid talking about the Scots. Very well. I shall not ask again. But know this, I am interested in learning more about their culture.”
“You are interested in learning more about Osgar MacAlpin,” Saga said.
“Perhaps, I am. Is that such a bad thing?”
“Nay. I do not suppose it is.”
Vigdis sat up and pulled the furs back from them both. “Did I hear you correctly? Are you saying you think an alliance by marriage is now acceptable?”
“I am saying he seems an honourable man and you appear interested in his world. I am not opposed to you learning more about one another if it pleases you.”
“You surprise me, sister.”
“How so? My only complaint in all of this is that women on both sides of the alliance would be forced into a life they do not want. That is not our way, Vigdis. Have you known any woman who was forced into a marriage against her will?”
“No I have not.”
“But the Scots arrange their marriages all the time. I have only ever said I will not be forced.”
“And if you developed feelings for a Scot, perhaps a tall dark-eyed one, you would have no objection?”
“I cannot marry a Scot, Vigdis. You know this. I imagine they expect their women to be ladies who abide by the rules set out by men. Can you really see me in that world? Not allowed to hunt? Not allowed to fight? Forced to wear gowns even more restrictive than those we wore tonight?”
“Our mother did not mind. I do not mind.”
“I believe you would do well in that world, sister. Perhaps better than in this one.”
“What are you saying? You think I should approach Gunnar about Osgar?”
“I have a strong feeling your Osgar will beat you to it.”
“And what about you? What about MacDomnail?”
“There is no future for us.” As she said the words a dull ache settled in her belly. Her mind told her there was no way forward for such a match. That she would be forced to leave the land and way of life she loved so dearly and that she would bring nothing but misery upon herself and him. It did not matter that he was strong and handsome and worthy. It simply could never work.
“How can you say that? I see the way he looks at you. And I’ve seen you look at him too.”
“He is pleasing to look at—”
“And I am certain he is as pleasing in other ways,” Vigdis said with a grin.
