Page 37 of The Refuge

“How is his skill?”

“Quite good. Like your sister, Serena, skill with a bow comes easily to him. I expect he will ride with the archers when Malcolm next sets off on a raid.”

“It will not be long now,” Steinar remarked. “The king has summoned men from the provinces for that very purpose.” Any day, Steinar expected to see warriors pouring in to Dunfermline in response to the king’s missives to his chiefs.

The servants began setting pitchers of wine on the tables. Once the king’s goblet was filled, he slowly rose from his chair and raised his goblet in toast to the new arrivals. The hall quieted.

“To our guests, the Mormaer of Blackwell and his wife and daughter. Welcome to Dunfermline.”

Goblets all around the hall were raised and wine quaffed as shouts of “Aye!” ascended from the crowd.

Servants set haunches of roast venison before them, the spicy aroma making Steinar suddenly ravenous with hunger. A Saxon serving wench, filling his goblet, aimed a slow smile at him. Long flaxen plaits complemented her round face and form, but he was not interested. He had eyes for only one woman.

“Will you entertain us this eve?” he asked Rhodri as he bit into a slice of venison.

“Not tonight.” The bard grinned. “I am to have the evening free.” Rhodri sliced off a piece of meat and brought it to the trencher they shared. “The king has arranged for a group of minstrels to play. There will be dancing.”

* * *

“Dancing!” Catrìona exclaimed, beaming her pleasure. “I have not danced in a very long time. Not since before…” Her words trailed off as she remembered her parents had arranged for music and dancing the evening she and Domnall were to be betrothed. The vision of the planned gaiety faded from her mind, reminding her she and Domnall were not yet betrothed.

Across from her, Fia’s blue eyes glistened with excitement. “I can hardly eat for the thought of dancing in King Malcolm’s court. Do you think the bard will play with the minstrels? I would so like to dance with him.” Her cousin’s gaze shifted to where the bard sat with Steinar.

“You will have to wait and see,” said Catrìona. “I expect there will be several instruments. Mandolins, flutes, mayhap even drums. He may be asked to join them.”

“I hope not,” said Fia. “Rhodri is splendid in his green velvet tunic.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the giggles of Elspeth, the youngest of the queen’s ladies, who sat nearby flirting with one of the king’s guards. She giggled when he returned her smiles with a lusty glance.

“She had best contain her smiles,” Fia whispered to Catrìona, “else she will soon be devoured by that one.”

Her cousin’s eyes were focused on a muscled warrior Catrìona had not noticed before. His dark gaze was fierce and his warrior’s chest and arms spoke of strength. His long hair was neither blond nor brown but somewhere in between, held in place by a strip of leather encircling his head. Unlike his hair, his short beard and mustache were red.

“He is Colbán of Moray,” said Fia, “captain of the king’s guard and a man known for stealing young women’s virtue.”

Catrìona looked at her cousin. “How could you know that?”

“When you are off with Giric flying your falcon, I hear things and Niall sometimes passes to me what he learns from the men at archery practice. He thought to warn us.”

Catrìona watched the one called Colbán as his dark eyes narrowed on Elspeth, like a wolf leering at a lamb. “He appears more man than a girl like Elspeth can handle,” she whispered to Fia.

“He has an eye for the queen’s ladies,” said Fia in a low voice. “’Tis said the king will give him one of us to wed.”

Catrìona shrugged. It was no concern of hers, unless he desired her cousin. Inwardly, she feared he might, for Fia was very pretty.

Fia looked at her pointedly. “I have seen him watching you more than once.”

“He can watch me all he wants,” Catrìona pronounced defiantly. “I am promised to Domnall.”

When the meal was concluded, the tables were pushed to the walls leaving a large space in the middle of the room for dancing on either side of the central hearth where the fire had been allowed to die to glowing embers.

Three minstrels took their places in front of the dais facing into the hall where men and women anxiously waited for the music to begin.

They had only begun to pluck at their instruments when Fia nudged her in the side. “Look! Rhodri is not among the musicians. Mayhap he will dance after all.”

Catrìona grew anxious as she looked around the crowded hall, searching for Domnall. She had expected him to come to her when the music began, but he did not. “I wonder where Domnall is.”

“I do not wish to be the bearer of sad news, Cousin, but look to the end of the dais where the new lady has just stepped down. Look who awaits her.”