Page 21 of Summer Warrior

CHAPTER 7

Dunaverty Bay on the Mull of Kintyre

SOMERLED SIGHED his relief as the wide beach at Dunaverty Bay on the southern tip of Kintyre came into view. The setting sun cast streaks of gold and copper onto the land and the sea. Where the waters receded from the shore, the wet sand appeared like sparkling gemstones. After the gray clouds and mists of Islay, the azure sky streaked with gold lifted his mood from the somber leave-taking following the burials at Keills.

The only bright spot had been his dawn walk to the hidden loch named for St. Findlugan. There, autumn had painted the bracken on the deer-covered hills brown but there were vast areas of greensward at the base of the gently sloping hills that circled the loch.

Wild geese and ducks inhabited the shores, including sheldrakes with their striking black and white plumage and red bills. Golden eagles soared above the loch’s silver waters causing him to raise his eyes to the cloud-filled sky.

As he had gazed at the loch, he imagined a great hall rising from the island nestled close to shore. There, the clan chiefs could gather to deliberate great matters. He had walked along the shore of the loch that morning, experiencing a great peace. In the distance, he had seen the mountains on the neighboring Isle of Jura called the Paps, so named because of their shape like a woman’s breasts. At the northern end of the loch, there were two ancient standing stones, reminding him that centuries ago, the ancients had lived there.

His stronghold on Loch Findlugan would not require a stone castle, for it would be easily defended. And its purpose would not be to protect the sea lanes but to shelter the center of his lordship. It would be a fine spot for a redheaded princess to race her horse without concern for invaders. A lump formed in his throat as he considered the future that might be. A future he very much wanted.

Somerled’s musing came to an end as his crew’s singing ceased and they rowed hard for the Dunaverty shore. He glanced up at the familiar cliffs rising on the left side of the bay now reflecting the golden sun. He did not look long at those cliffs for the other side of the bay held more interest for him. There, a large headland jutted out from shore ending in the huge Dunaverty Rock.

The craggy outcropping would serve well as the foundation for the castle he would build that would guard the sea lanes in this part of his kingdom.

Somerled’s warriors, who had remained on Kintyre, had beached their galleys and longships in the wide crescent of sand, their colorful shields decorating the rails.

As his longships met the sand, men came running to meet him with shouts of welcome. Gaels, Scots and Irishmen still formed the ranks of his warbands. At the sound of the men rushing forward, shorebirds scurried out of the way and seals, resting on the rocks nearby, raised their heads in inquiry.

When they first came to Dunaverty Bay, his men had camped onshore but now they lived in a settlement of thatched cottages they built for their families who would join them. The castle would be the eventual home for many.

A cheer rose up as his longship came to rest. “Somerled!”

“The men are glad to see you,” said Domnall, standing at his side.

“And I them.” He waved his hand to the men gathering to welcome him.

Those onshore stared at the longship that had no stern rudder but only a steering board and carved dragons on the stem posts.

Ruairi MacInnes stepped from the crowd. “I see you have gained another ship!”

Somerled swung down from the deck to the sand. “Aye, from Sweyn Asleifsson at Islay.”

“Did you kill the thieving bastard?” asked Ruairi, running a hand through his long brown hair. His face, tanned from the sun, had only a few wrinkles and most of those around his eyes.

“Nay,” said Somerled. “He has a purpose yet to serve.”

“And the lass?” Ruairi asked, glancing behind Somerled to Liadan standing in the stern.

“Liadan!” Somerled shouted to the young woman. “Join me.” To Ruairi, he said, “She is the sister of Brian MacGilleain, a hero who died fighting the Norse pirates at Keills.”

“The lass insists on guarding our lord’s back,” said Angus with a wry smile as he came to stand beside them.

Somerled nodded his agreement, still amused at his new guard. Facing Ruairi, he said, “She has another brother who yet lives, Diarmad MacGilleain, one of our galley captains. Know him?”

“I do,” said Ruairi. “Diarmad is a good man and a worthy captain of his own galley. He is among those I sent north to fortify Ardtornish Point in Morvern.”

Somerled introduced Liadan to his small group. The men onshore sent her curious gazes, taking in her warrior’s garb, before returning to their tasks. He would have to do something about her clothing if she were to accompany him to King David’s court at Irvine. Meanwhile, he must see to his men.

He looked back over his shoulder. His warriors, who had done some hard rowing to Kintyre, climbed down from the beached ships. Somerled turned back to Ruairi. “The men are tired. Do you have shelter for them and an evening meal you can share?”

“Aye, Lord. We have built many new cottages and made use of the stone houses the Norse left. As for food, there will be both fish and venison for tonight’s dinner. Liadan, you can lodge with my wife and me.”

Somerled nodded. Glancing at Liadan’s male attire, he said, “She’ll be coming with me to Irvine to meet with King David so she’ll need a lady’s gown.”

Ruairi smiled at the lass. “My wife will see to it.”