Page 27 of Summer Warrior

The Norseman returned her a possessive grin. “I would have you know of my fondness for you, Princess.” With a glower in Somerled’s direction, he added, “That last verse assures you I am strong and will guard my own even drawing blood if I must.”

Before she could reply, Rognvald asked her to partner for the next dance. With reluctance she placed her hand on his offered arm and allowed him to lead her to the new circles just forming.

Glancing over her shoulder, she met Somerled’s intense gaze. He was not pleased.

INWARDLY, SOMERLED FUMED as he watched the Norseman dancing with Ragnhild, sending her frequent lust-filled glances. It was time for Somerled to speak to Olaf again concerning his daughter.

“How fares the Princess of Man?” Angus asked as he, Domnall and Maurice came to join him.

“Well enough by the look of her,” replied Somerled. “Still, there are too many suitors here for my liking.”

“Would you compete with them for her?” asked Domnall. “It does seem time for you to consider marrying again, and where you once had nothing to commend you, now you have a growing kingdom. She would be a fine bride with an unmatched dowry.”

“Aye, he would be her suitor,” interjected the older Maurice, his curly dark hair grown longer since their first voyages. “An alliance with the King of Man would gain our lord much more than he has now.”

Angus ran his hand through his hair, as long as Somerled’s but darker. “I sense it is the lady herself my brother wants as much as Olaf’s gold or his lands.”

“Enough!” Somerled scolded. “At the moment, I have no castle to offer and gold enough only for my ships and my men. Though, now that I think on it, when we leave here, after stopping at Kintyre, I would like to return to Islay and begin work on a timbered lodge on the island in Loch Findlugan. We need no mason for that. And, lest you worry that all my thoughts are for the princess, I do not forget the Norse menace.”

“Which reminds me,” said Domnall, “what is the Earl of Orkney doing here?”

“Since he has no daughter to offer David’s son, I suspect he came to assure the king he poses no threat to Scotland,” replied Somerled, continuing to watch Ragnhild dancing with the earl. “And, since Olaf is conveniently here, Rognvald is likely to again take up his quest for the princess’ hand.”

“By the look on her face,” said Angus, “’twould seem she is not warm to that prospect.”

THE NEXT MORNING Somerled and his brother, after having a word with the stable master, took up their bows and quivers of arrows and headed to the streambank where David and his company were breaking their fast as was the custom before a hunt if the weather was fair. Domnall and Maurice had not wished to participate in the hunt but offered to stay behind and secure the provisions they needed.

The day presented all they could hope for in weather, the sky nearly cloudless and the leaves on the trees that had changed with autumn were ablaze with red, yellow and gold. The air, too, spoke of autumn, being dry and crisp.

Somerled was nearly to the gathering of hunters when Liadan rushed up to him, breathless. A look of concern shadowed her face. “I am glad I found you, Lord. I have heard something that concerns me.”

“What is it?”

Angus furrowed his brow, intent upon the news she carried.

“I heard the Norseman, Rognvald, tell one of his men that he would deal with ‘that bastard Gael’ afore the hunt was done.”

Somerled cast a glance toward those who sat in the clearing just ahead. The Earl of Orkney was nowhere to be seen. “He does not hunt this morning.”

“Might he not set a trap somewhere along the route?” offered Liadan.

“The woods in which we hunt are dense,” said Angus. “Best be on your guard, Brother.”

Somerled gripped his bow tighter and turned to Liadan. “You have my thanks, lass.”

Her dark eyes conveyed anxiety as she wished him well.

He and Angus joined the gathered assembly seated at tables arrayed on the streambank.

The men were richly attired. All carried weapons—spears, swords, bows and daggers of one sort or another.

Spotting Ragnhild sitting with her father, he went to join them, while Angus bid him a good hunt and ventured on to another group.

The princess had foregone a veil and confined her hair to one long plait. Her green bliaut was simple with a wide skirt for riding. At her side was a bow and a quiver of arrows. “We are waiting for the huntsmen to return with news of the harts. Join us.” She swept her hand toward an empty bench.

“Happily.” He greeted King Olaf and accepted the open seat.

As they partook of the meal of bread, bacon, smoked fish and apples, Somerled asked Olaf, “Will you participate in the hunt?”