“Thank you, my king,” she said, not really knowing how to address him.
He grinned and winked at Giric. “My king, is it? I approve of her wholeheartedly.”
Saga wasn’t certain if he was jesting or being truthful. She was usually a good judge of a man, but there was something a little off-putting about this one.
“Come in out of the weather and let us feast. Unless you wish to rest before we share a meal.”
“Nay, I am ravenous and have been lying about for too many days in that damned cart. My guards insisted I travel hidden away like some frightened hare.”
“I have to say I agree with them. Until we are certain of no further attempts on anyone’s life from Athelstan, we cannot be too careful.”
“Aye, we shall be careful. And I wish to hear everything about you, Lady MacDomnail. I understand your brother, Chieftain of Islay is here as well.”
“He is inside and looking forward to meeting you as well.”
Giric and the king walked ahead of her and into the great hall. Watching them both she was struck by the difference between them. Her husband was much taller and leaner. They were different in other ways too. Whilst Giric was like an open book when it came to his expressions, the king appeared more cunning, as though he missed nothing under his scrutiny. She wasn’t sure if that warranted her to be more careful in his presence or more forthcoming. She would observe him more over the next few hours before making any kind of determination.
* * *
Giric was pleased by the king’s expression when they entered the great hall. He practically stopped in his tracks when he saw the lavish decorations in his honour. Giric led him to the seat at the head of the table then turned to help Saga sit beside him and Gunnar across from him.
“My king, this is Gunnar of Islay, brother of my wife Saga, and chieftain of that realm.”
“I am pleased to meet you, King Constantine.”
“And I, you,” the king said. “I appreciate all that you have done in my honour, MacDomnail. Truly, I have rarely seen such a grand display. Your wife is to be applauded.”
“My husband oversaw every detail,” Saga said. “This is all his doing. I cannot take credit for that in which I had no part.”
“Well then my praise falls on your lap, MacDomnail. If the food is as good as the presentation, I believe we will be successful in our endeavours.”
“That is my hope,” Giric said and squeezed Saga’s hand under the table.
The servants came out with several platters of roasted wild boar, rabbit pies, stuffed salmon, pitchers of steaming gravy, and mounds of bread. The head servant served the king, then Giric and Gunnar, and then Saga.
Giric watched as those around him feasted. He ate what he could, but in truth his guts were full of nerves and he had difficulty forcing himself to eat. Gunnar was being his usual jovial self and Saga was engaging with both the king and her brother. Giric had decided to let them converse in an attempt for them to build some rapport which would make the meeting go much smoother in his estimation. He could not force these people to like one another, but if they came together naturally, the alliance would no doubt be stronger. The reality of the situation was that he’d worked hard to convince both the king and Gunnar to accept this alliance and they’d had time to consider the value. If all the collective gods were in agreement, this should be an acceptable union for them all.
“Your cooks are worthy of their efforts, MacDomnail. This is a sumptuous feast.”
“Thank you, my king. I am fortunate to have such talented cooks and to live within such an abundant land.”
“Do you approve as well, Gunnar of Islay?”
“Ja. I have never had such a feast in my life, though we enjoy ourselves immensely.”
“You are being modest, Gunnar. You treated me to foods I’ve never heard of at your table. I am pleased you feel I have reciprocated with the same quality.”
Gunnar looked around then back to Giric and winked at the king. “You’ll not find so many pretty things around my hall.”
The king laughed out loud. “I would like to see your hall, Gunnar.”
Gunnar stood then and lifted his goblet. “You are welcome, King Constantine. Please allow me to offer my alliance to you, but I cannot call you my king as my sister offers with her graciousness.”
Giric stiffened. Had he let his guard down too soon? He’d thought the meal had passed well up to that point. His heart raced as he waited for the king to respond. Gunnar had offered his alliance, but appeared to revoke it in the same breath. He glanced at Saga who smiled at him. Did she know something he didn’t?
“I don’t imagine you would,” the king said. “Your sister is gracious in her address, but I do not expect it of her either.”
Giric was not following the logic of either man at that point.
