Page 84 of Summer Warrior

CHAPTER 20

The Church of St. Mary, Rushen Abbey, Isle of Man, 1 January, 1139 A.D.

RAGNHILD GAZED UP at the tall door of the church, the sun’s light on this crisp morning falling across the oak wood. Years ago, when she had first met Somerled, she was drawn to him but had not envisioned such a day. Yet, in God’s good time, it had come to her.

Glancing at the man to whom she would soon be wed, she rejoiced at God’s favor, for He had given her a golden warrior, a leader of thousands, whose wisdom and intelligence were prized by all. His people, who would soon be her people, now dominated Argyll and the Southern Isles and, unlike so many, lived free.

As she had told her father, she was truly marrying a king and their children would inherit a kingdom unlike any other, one not bound to Scotland, Ireland, England or Norway, except by alliances of its own making. Not even her father, standing with their guests, could say so much, for he was bound to Norway.

Abbot Bernard smiled and beckoned them closer.

Somerled took her hand and led her forward. With few words, the abbot asked if each gave their consent to this union. Somerled turned to face her and smiled. “I will.”

When it was her turn, Ragnhild gazed up into his clear blue eyes. “I will.”

She had always thought Somerled a handsome man. She had seen him garbed in royal apparel to meet two kings; she had seen him covered in other men’s blood and smelling of sweat; and she had seen him wind-blown and browned from the sun. Until now, he had never allowed her to see him clothed with a mantle of love. But it was there in his eyes when he turned to her and began to speak.

You are now blood of my blood, and bone of my bone.

I give you my body, that we two might be one.

I give you my spirit, ’til our life shall be done.

With tears of joy falling down her cheeks, they exchanged rings of gold that would forever mark them man and wife. From this day onward, except when she was alone with Somerled or their family, Ragnhild would wear a veil covering her hair, indicating she was a married woman.

Abbot Bernard blessed them and prayed for their union, their children and their life together, and for the legacy they would leave. The ceremony was brief, after which, they entered the church for Mass.

And then the celebration began.

SOMERLED HELD RAGNHILD’S HAND tightly as they stepped from the church into the chilled morning sun. Loud cheers erupted all around them as the people of Man and Galloway and Somerled’s friends gathered to wish them well. Most, he assumed, admired him for gaining a great alliance and a large dowry. The message of congratulations from the King of Scots hinted at such. Few knew he had been long in love with the jewel-eyed Princess of Man. If they wanted to think him canny for the marriage, it mattered little to him. That Ragnhild was his bride and would share his bed and his life mattered more.

“Father has prepared a great feast for us,” she said as they walked back to the castle, the boisterous crowd following.

“My men will appreciate that.” Already, Angus, Maurice and Domnall, walking beside Liadan and her brother, were smiling and waving to them. Gillecolum walked apart, beaming at them, for he was glad of the marriage and had told them the night before that it was time he had a mother.

“You know what Gille and I look forward to, my lord?” she said in teasing manner.

“Tell me.”

“We hope for peace so there will be no more sad goodbyes and no more hasty utterances of “Godspeed”.

“Aye, we will be together now.” Then in offhand manner, he asked, “Do you know what I look forward to?”

“I can guess,” she said with a sly smile. “’Tis tonight when we escape to my chamber.”

He chuckled. “Already you know me well. Yes, but not just this night, my love. It is all the nights we will share for the rest of our lives.”

She glanced down at the ring on her finger, happy God had brought Somerled through wars and battles to this day. Then meeting his gaze, she echoed his words, “For the rest of our lives.”