Page 78 of Summer Warrior

Somerled raised his brows, sure Maurice was toying with him. “And?”

“Oh, yes. The Princess of Man thanks you for sending me, your trusted companion,” he said with a wink, “to convey your message. Though, to be honest, I do not believe she thought much of it.”

Maurice’s teasing hit Somerled as truth. He’d known he had not written words to satisfy a maiden’s heart.

“Yet, she must think much of you to confide the next,” said Maurice.

“Tell me,” Somerled said, narrowing his eyes on the Irishman.

“She divulged that her father was to sail north for Skye in a few days’ time, taking her with him, and afterward, he plans to call upon the Earl of Orkney at Rognvald’s invitation.”

All eyes turned to Somerled. He did not need to ponder the significance of such a move overlong. “’Tis time to claim my bride.”

“What will you do, Father?” asked Gillecolum.

Somerled smiled because he knew his son liked the princess.

“Do not doubt, Gille,” said Angus. “Your father will think of something clever, for he means to give you a new mother and the princess is his chosen lady.”

Offshore of the Isle of Mull, September 1138 A.D.

RAGNHILD SET HER FACE to the wind, inhaling the smell of the sea. It had taken the king’s longship a sennight to arrive where they anchored off the west coast of the Isle of Mull. They’d made several stops to see old friends and greet her father’s tenants. She had enjoyed their visits along the way and was glad her father had included her in this voyage, though she worried about its end.

She gazed toward the west where the Isle of Coll was silhouetted against the light from late afternoon sun. It was cool on the water but she was warm in her hooded, fur-lined mantle.

Here, she felt Somerled’s presence, for these were waters over which he claimed authority, though Coll and its neighbor, Tiree, were among her father’s isles. If Maurice had delivered her message, Somerled knew the time might be short in which to ask for her hand. Why had he never done so? He had never spoken of marriage, though she hoped what she had seen in his intense blue gaze was not only love, but a desire to call her his own.

“Sail ho!” called out one of her father’s crew.

She shifted her gaze to the north where a galley with a red sail was rounding Mull, heading toward them. Somerled’s ship?

“I know that galley,” said her father. “’Tis Lord Somerled’s, or one of his, with that strange rudder in the stern.”

When the galley drew close, Somerled waved. “Hail, King Olaf!”

“Have we sailed to your front door, Lord Somerled?” asked her father in an amused tone.

“Nearly so,” Somerled answered back. “I come from my new castle at Ardtornish, timber now but one day stone. Where are you bound?”

The ships were alongside each other now. Her father leaned against the gunwale, his head just peeking over the rail. “We sail to Skye. Join us!”

“Aye, I might,” came Somerled’s reply. “What say you to sojourning tonight with me at Ardtornish? We’ve a banquet’s fare if you are hungry.”

Ragnhild observed her father hesitating. “Why not accept, Father? Skye is too far to reach in what is left of the day and I would like to see his castle.”

Olaf nodded and leaned back to Somerled. “Very well, we accept.”

“Excellent! Follow me into the sound. You can anchor off the point and ride my galley to the shingle.” He gave Ragnhild a quick glance before ordering his men to row for the sound. She knew the minute their eyes met that he had planned this interception and the evening to follow.

SOMERLED HAD THOUGHT of a way to force the King of Man into finally consenting to his request for Ragnhild’s hand but as yet, he’d divulged it to no one. Now that King Olaf and his daughter were settled by the hearth fire and the crew of Olaf’s longship was enjoying ale at one of the trestles, he enlisted his brother, his cousin and Maurice in his cause. Even his son.

“Gillecolum, go speak to the princess and her father. Make sure they are comfortable and let them know I will be with them shortly.” He was certain the lad would charm them both. “Liadan, make sure the cook is preparing a feast fit for a king. Even the men who row Olaf’s ship and those who keep watch will dine well. The ale must flow freely for I do not want their senses sharp this night.”

“And for us?” asked Domnall.

Maurice and Angus, too, gave Somerled an inquiring look.

He had already made sure the lord’s bedchamber was ready for Olaf and another prepared for the princess. “While the king and his men sleep, just before dawn, I need you to alter the King of Man’s longship.”