Page 35 of Summer Warrior

Ragnhild diverted her gaze for a moment to the chess game where a smile suddenly appeared on Somerled’s face.

“CHECKMATE,” said Somerled, fixing his eyes on the shocked earl. For one who had touted his prowess at the game, this must not have happened often.

With an indifferent grimace, Rognvald tipped over his king, one of the carved pieces of walrus ivory Somerled had been admiring. “What would you have of me for your miraculous win?” A boon had been promised to the winner but it was clear to Somerled that the earl never expected to lose.

Somerled pulled from his tunic the broken arrow shaft, the feathers still intact. He had learned more about it since Angus had told him it belonged to one of the earl’s men. “I would know which of your men thought to slay the King of Argyll with this arrow.” Though King David had called Somerled a king, it was only with a man as self-important as Rognvald that Somerled would use the title “king” for himself. Somerled was pleased to see it had the desired effect.

If it were possible for the Earl of Orkney to be embarrassed, he was. His cheeks flamed. “I know nothing of such a plot! And my quiver is missing no arrows.”

“Is that so?” Somerled flicked his fingers over the feathers. His left arm still ached like perdition and he had used only his right hand in the game, a fact apparently unremarked by the earl. “Mayhap ’tis not yours. Yet this is one of your Orkney arrows. The feathers may be common goose but different than ours in the way they are affixed to the shaft, a shaft made of Norway pine, a wood only Orkneymen use.”

Rognvald abruptly rose and glared down at Somerled. “You slander me and mine!”

Somerled relaxed in his chair, confident he had hooked the salmon. He had only to land it. He leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. “The next time you try something like that, I will show no mercy. If I must kill all to get one, I will.”

The earl’s dark eyes, full of menace, narrowed on Somerled. “The next time, I will not fail.” Abruptly, he turned and stalked off.

Somerled sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. Well, well, well.

OLAF STROLLED THROUGH THE HALL, greeting the men he had come to know over the many years he had been allied with the King of Scots. Raised together in the court of Henry I, he and David had learned the ways of the powerful King of England together, both his treachery and his harsh demands. Henry was a sovereign who considered his subjects playthings. For certes, the women Henry took to his bed, even the wives of his barons, fell into that category. Olaf had lost count of Henry’s bastards.

Though he did not lament Henry’s passing, Olaf regretted the current state of affairs that pitted Henry’s daughter, Maud, against his nephew, Stephen, who had seized England’s throne on the old king’s death. A civil war was threatening to ensue that would surely entangle David. Olaf might be David’s friend but he had no intention of becoming involved in England’s affairs.

Seeing Ragnhild talking with the women of the court, Olaf let out a measured sigh. She was his jewel and not only his but that of his kingdom. His people loved her and since her mother, Ingibiorg, had died, they treated the young princess as their own. He must arrange a marriage that would serve his kingdom yet assure his daughter would be well treated and given a worthy home. After all, if anything untoward happened to his young heir, Godred, it would be Ragnhild’s sons who would inherit the Kingdom of Man and the Isles.

His daughter did not lack for suitors but which one would be best?

The Earl of Orkney admired the princess though, at times, it seemed his fondness for her was the same as his fondness for his dragonships. Rognvald would give her a title, jewels and poems. But would he care for her as Olaf had? Did his great view of himself leave room for a wife to dominate his heart? Mayhap not. And now that Olaf no longer needed Rognvald to keep the sea pirates from the Kingdom of Man, could there be a better choice?

In contrast to Rognvald, Prince Henry, King David’s son, was humble as well as handsome, beloved by all. Undoubtedly, he was a young man who would treat Ragnhild well, as his father, the King of Scots, had treated his own wife, loving her even after her death. But was David inclined to have a Norse daughter-in-law when his ties had always been to England? And did Olaf want a Scot to inherit his kingdom? Besides that, while Olaf had observed the two young people dancing together and could see they had become friends, the twinkle in her eyes and the smile that lit up her face she reserved only for Somerled.

The Lord of Argyll, Kintyre and Lorne had risen like a comet to outshine all the young lords who would pay suit to Ragnhild. Olaf was coming to see that, one day, Somerled could be lord, not just of Argyll and a few isles, but lord of far more. With King David’s blessing, and rents from the lands he controlled, Somerled could now construct the castles that would secure such a kingdom. But the Gaels were a troublesome lot, often fighting among themselves. And if not killed by a fellow Gael, Somerled could be slain on one of his many voyages attacking the Norse pirates, for he engaged in warfare on a near daily basis. No, if Somerled were to be considered for Ragnhild’s hand, Olaf must wait to see if the young lord could deliver on his many promises and survive to tell of them. After all, the princess was only nineteen summers. There was time.

Affraic crossed the hall to his side. “Lord, might we retire soon? It has been a long day.”

He considered his young bride, glad his stamina had not flagged as the years had passed. “Aye, my love, and perhaps ’tis time we return to Man.”