Page 19 of Summer Warrior

“Oh, he may go to Ireland for a short while, licking his wounds, but I doubt not he will return to his den in Orkney to whine to his master.”

“Ireland will be none too glad to see him,” offered Maurice.

“Do we sail for Kintyre?” asked Liadan, coming out of nowhere to stand beside Somerled.

Amused, he asked her, “And how do you know that is our destination, lass?”

“I listened to your men talking,” she said, raising her head proudly. “If you allow it, I would be your spy, my lord. I am very good at listening behind doors.”

Somerled chuckled, doubting not she spoke truth. He looked around, seeing no man near her. “Did your brother give his permission for you to sail with us?”

She clutched a small bundle to her chest and averted her gaze, wiping away the tears that began to flow down her cheeks. In a small voice, she said, “My brother Brian died this day.”

Somerled was truly sorry for her loss. “Your brother is a hero then and will be celebrated as such. And what of your parents?”

“Gone to Heaven, my lord,” she said, looking up at him, her gray eyes pleading.

“Well then,” said Somerled, “there is nothing for it but to take you with us.” To Angus, he said, “What think you of our new crew?”

Liadan’s eyes grew bright at his acceptance of her wish to accompany him.

“Why not?” said Angus. “It is clear she will serve no other. But you will have to keep her close, else the men will compete for her attention. She is a bonny lass.”

“If they try anything with her,” said Somerled, giving Liadan a smile, “they will get a knife in the gut. And it will not be mine. I have seen her fight.”

“Do we depart for Kintyre?” asked Domnall, his expression one of concern.

Aware of his men’s fatigue and the waning day, Somerled said, “Nay, the tide will soon change and not in our favor. Besides, we may be able to offer aid to the people of Keills. Tomorrow morning will be soon enough and the tide will be running south through the sound.”

Somerled left a small contingent of his men with the ships and set off on the short return trip through the woods to Keills, his warriors and Liadan falling into step behind him.

They arrived on the fertile plain that was home to the village to see the men piling the bodies of the Norse pirates at the far end to be burned. “We have come to help where we may,” Somerled told a man who approached them.

“Aye, we could use some.”

“Shall we send some of the men off to hunt deer for the evening meal?” asked Maurice.

Somerled nodded. “For certes, the villagers would appreciate it. The herds would be culled by this time.”

Maurice gathered a group of his archers and headed off to the hills.

Somerled dispatched the rest of his men to help where they could while he and Angus went to the chapel. “I want to see what damage the Norse raiders have done.”

With Liadan at his back, where she seemed most content, Somerled and Angus headed toward the old stone chapel. A graveyard with stone slabs stood off to one side. He glanced at Liadan. “Are your parents buried here?”

She nodded, silent and somber.

He patted her shoulder, much as he would one of his men. “We’ll see your brother laid to rest beside them ere we leave.”

Liadan looked up at him with grateful eyes, the color matching the brooding sky. “Thank you, Lord.”

In the chapel, the altar remained intact but the pirates had taken whatever had stood upon it. “Likely, we’ll find the vessels scattered where they dropped them.”

“I can find them,” Liadan volunteered.

“A holy task, lass. See it is done and then find us when we stop to eat.”

Somerled watched the girl hurry toward the center of the village, still wearing the attire of warrior. “It is best she be about some task without time to agonize over her loss,” he said to Angus. “There will be time to mourn when we say the words over her brother’s grave.”