Page 31 of The Refuge

Steinar guided Catrìona to where the queen’s ladies were taking their seats at one end of a trestle table set with candles and pitchers of wine.

Rhodri and Catrìona’s cousin followed closely behind them.

Steinar leaned down to whisper in Catrìona’s ear, “I like your hair like that. It reminds me of how it looked when you ran through the woods.”

Before she could reply, he bid the ladies good eve and pulled a reluctant Rhodri toward a bench farther down the table.

On the dais, the king’s family took their seats along with Maerleswein and Davina. An older man sat on Davina’s other side. On the opposite side of the queen sat her brother, Edgar, and her sister.

“I wonder why Maerleswein sits with the king tonight,” said Steinar.

Rhodri leaned in to whisper. “’Tis the betrothal of Maerleswein and Davina we celebrate. The man on her other side is her father.”

A servant set a large platter on the table and Steinar’s eyes widened. “That explains our fare. ’Tis not often we dine on more than fish, duck and boar. Tonight they serve us swan.” The birds, adorned with some of their own feathers, were surrounded by roasted vegetables and flowers. In the rising aromas, he detected garlic and fennel. There were also peas in cream sauce, one of his favorites.

Once the hall quieted, the king rose to his feet, goblet in hand. “This eve we celebrate a great man and his betrothal to a noble Scotswoman. I bid you raise your goblets to Maerleswein and Davina, betrothed this day!”

The hall erupted in shouts as goblets were raised and their contents downed with many smiles, for the two were popular with both the men and the women. The jests, Steinar knew, would come later, after the ladies retired from the hall.

“I’m to sing them a love song,” said Rhodri. “Orders from the king. I am quite certain ’tis a match made for land and loyalty but I will try to encourage them to more.”

“You have such a song?”

“Aye, a timeless one.”

“I can hardly wait to hear it,” Steinar teased.

“The queen will like it,” Rhodri said with a shrug. “’Tis all that matters.”

“Now you have me intrigued.” Steinar waited expectantly but Rhodri said nothing more.

Throughout the dinner, Steinar watched Catrìona, her long auburn hair flowing in waves down her back like a fiery waterfall. Her face glowed in the candlelight, making him want to claim another kiss. But it was the memory of her running in the forest like one of the wild creatures that filled his mind. And the sight of her raising her hand to whistle her falcon back to her gauntlet. Her words to the orphan, Giric, had been tender. A most unusual woman. And one who stirred not just his loins but his heart.

She laughed at something one of the women said and her laughter made her face shine with joy.

“My friend,” Rhodri said in somber tone, “be careful on whom your gaze rests. I have heard she is all but betrothed to Domnall mac Murchada, the Irishman from Leinster.”

Inwardly, Steinar scowled. “I have met the man and so have you,” he threw back. “I am not fond of his ways. A man who is promised to a lady should not indulge in common rutting as that one does.”

The meal drew to a close as more wine was poured. Rhodri left the table and headed toward the stool set before the dais. On the way, he stopped to bow before Catrìona’s cousin, making his interest known to all. There had been other ladies who had garnered the bard’s interest in the past, but none like this one. Steinar could only hope Rhodri’s attentions to Atholl’s daughter did not result in a scolding from the king.

Rhodri picked up his harp and sat on a stool facing the king and queen, the hearth to his back. The fire had died to coals but the flickering torches set the hall aglow.

“In honor of the occasion,” Rhodri said plucking a few strings, “I sing an ancient song of love adapted for the betrothed couple.” He sang softly in Gaelic, the words weaving their magic as tendrils of ethereal music echoed from his harp.

Like a lily among thorns is Davina among women.

Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest is her beloved among men.

Let him lead her to the banquet hall.

And let his banner over her be love.

Your love is more delightful than wine.

Pleasing is the fragrance of your perfumes.

Take me away with you—let us hurry!