Page 24 of Summer Warrior

Somerled inclined his head to the prince who was only a few years younger than him.

On Somerled’s other side stood a Norman of an age with him, clean-shaven with dark hair and strong features, who the king introduced as Hugh de Morville. “My friend since we were lads at King Henry’s court. And his wife, Lady Beatrice.”

Somerled bowed to de Morville’s young wife, whose dark brown plaits hung long beneath her veil.

“I am delighted to be invited to sit with you and your guests,” he said. “I hope I shall always be considered one of those you accept at your table.”

Just then, King Olaf of Man appeared out of the crowd with Queen Affraic and Princess Ragnhild. Somerled drew a steadying breath, his eyes fixed on the princess, hungrily taking in the sight of her. She looked more like a queen than a princess with her golden bliaut and circlet. Her red-gold hair, falling free of her veil, reflected the light of the many candles.

King David must have detected his keen interest. “Do you know my guests from the Isle of Man?”

“Aye,” said Somerled. “I accepted Olaf’s invitation to visit him not long ago.”

The King of Man and his two ladies climbed onto the dais.

Somerled said, “Good day to you, King Olaf, and to your queen and daughter.”

“’Tis good to see you again, Lord Somerled,” replied Olaf. “And so soon.”

His queen sagely nodded but said nothing.

The princess cast him a quick glance and then averted her eyes as if suddenly shy.

With an amused look, King David said to Somerled, “So you have met Olaf’s daughter, the lovely Princess Ragnhild.”

She looked up then and, meeting Somerled’s gaze, blushed.

“Aye,” he said, “I have had that pleasure.” And then to her, “Princess, I did not realize you were here and it warms my heart to know of it.”

“I think we should have the princess sit between you and de Morville,” said David. “Olaf and his queen can sit on the other side of my son.”

Somerled was pleased with the arrangement that put Ragnhild at his side.

There was one seat left. David looked up as a Norseman approached the dais.

“Rognvald, Earl of Orkney,” said King David, “the last of my guests. Have you met?” he asked Somerled.

“We have not met, but I know Sweyn Asleifsson, one of his men.”

“So, you are Somerled,” said Rognvald, eyeing him with interest. “I must apologize for Sweyn’s behavior on Islay. It will not be repeated.”

David and his son appeared bemused, unaware of the earl’s part—or that of his men—in pillaging the isle.

“So, he returned to Orkney?” Somerled asked the earl. He had no doubt Sweyn would again act the pirate given the chance but he would not mention it to Rognvald.

“Aye, with his tail between his legs. You may keep the ship he left behind with my compliments.”

Somerled was amused that Rognvald should think he needed permission to claim a ship he’d won fairly in battle. “Forgive us,” he said to King David, “for speaking of a matter that you may know little of.”

“There is much to discuss,” said the king. “You can explain all to me later. Meantime, Rognvald, take the seat on the other side of Queen Affraic and let us partake of our meal afore it grows cold.” As they claimed their seats, platters of food were immediately placed before them and wine was poured into silver goblets.

Somerled turned to Ragnhild. “Your appearance dazzles, my lady.”

She beamed her pleasure at his words.

“I can only say I am more than glad to see you.”

She returned him a sweet smile. “As am I to see you. I would have thought you off chasing Norse pirates.”