Page 32 of The Refuge

For I will praise your love more than wine.

The king whispered a translation to Margaret and Steinar noted the slow smile that spread across her face. When the song ended—and there was more of it—Rhodri sang a song in Welsh, mayhap another love song. Finally, he stood and bowed. The queen gave the bard a knowing smile. Whatever he had done had won the queen’s silent praise.

Rhodri returned to their table and Steinar’s congratulations. “Very well done.” Once his friend was seated, he asked, “Where did you get the song you sang for the betrothed couple?”

“I borrowed it from a very old source. ’Tis Solomon’s song. I am certain the queen recognized it. Mayhap she is the only one in the hall who did.”

“You are a clever bard.”

Rhodri said not a word but the look in his eyes told Steinar he owned the compliment.

* * *

“That first song the bard sang was somehow familiar,” Catrìona said to Fia as she drank the last of her wine, “but I cannot think of where I have heard it.”

“They were lovely words and so romantic. They made Davina blush.”

“Aye, she did blush, especially when Maerleswein grinned at her.”

Fia glanced toward the bard. “Rhodri is talented and so handsome.”

Catrìona gave her cousin a sharp glance. She had observed the glances the bard gave her cousin and Fia’s smiles in return. She worried about their hopeless attraction for each other. “Do not allow your heart to wander in that direction, Fia. You know your father would have the king wed you to some favored mormaer.”

Fia ignored the warning and picked up her goblet. “’Twas a fine meal.”

“Aye, it was. The bard’s song seemed to please the queen. Did you see her smile at him?” Catrìona had observed the subtle exchange between Margaret and the musician and wondered what lay beneath it.

“Nay, I was watching Rhodri.”

Catrìona let out a breath. “Margaret lingers in the hall tonight, do you think ’tis for Davina’s sake?”

“She and Maerleswein are to leave on the morrow to be married in Lothian,”

Catrìona considered again the vacancy Davina’s departure would leave. “I wonder who will take her place.”

Fia shrugged. “We can only hope whoever she is, she is as sweet as the lady she replaces.”