Page 47 of The Refuge

Rian bowed his head and his shoulders slumped. “Aye, My Lord.”

“It occurs to me,” said the king to Steinar, “if you accompany me to Northumbria, I will have both a guard at my back and a scribe for my messages. ’Twould please the queen.” He shot a glance at Rhodri. “A scribe who is a swordsman and a bard who leads my archers. Ha! I shall keep both of you close.”

Colbán dipped his head to Catrìona as he passed her and joined the king. “We will be glad for his sword arm,” he said to Malcolm.

Steinar grinned broadly. “As you wish,” he said to the king.

Catrìona could see he was pleased, but she was not certain she was. His arm was bleeding from where the ruffian had cut him. The idea of Steinar lying on the ground wounded or worse struck her like a blow. She could not bear to see him hurt.

Malcolm swept his arm toward the tower in a grand gesture. “Come,” he said to Steinar and Rhodri, “let us share some wine in my hall. Colbán, you will join us.”

The captain of the guard dipped his head to the king.

Malcolm put his arm around Steinar’s shoulder and they proceeded toward the door of the tower. Behind the king and Steinar, Rhodri strolled with Colbán.

As they passed, she noted Steinar limped slightly, making her worry all the more. He glanced at her over his shoulder, but if there was a message in his eyes, she could not decipher it.

* * *

Steinar set down his goblet, content, but feeling the effects of too much wine and no food. The king and Colbán might be at it for some time, but he’d had enough. Across from him, Rhodri had just finished his last goblet. “While I am happy to be joining the ranks of Malcolm’s warriors,” he said to Rhodri in a low voice, “one more toast and I will be slipping beneath the table.”

“Aye and I’ve a pretty lass to meet,” whispered the bard. “I must go ere I am late.”

“Catrìona’s cousin?”

Rhodri nodded, his deep brown eyes twinkling.

“Be careful, my friend,” Steinar cautioned. He hoped the Welshman did not draw the ire of the king for his attention to one of Margaret’s ladies.

Ignoring Steinar’s words, Rhodri said, “Until this eve!” and hurriedly left the hall.

Steinar sat staring at the closed door, wondering how far things had gone between his friend and the girl. Rhodri had dallied with his share of the ladies who frequented Malcolm’s court, always with much success. But this one was different. Fia of Atholl was the daughter of a powerful mormaer. And Steinar was certain the Welshman was in love.

His own besotted state was ever before him. Now that he was again a warrior and one of the king’s guards, dare he believe he might win Catrìona’s hand? And, with that in mind, he began to think of the beautiful firebrand as within his reach.

The king’s next words ended Steinar’s pondering. “Be prepared to ride at dawn.”

* * *

Rhodri set out for the place where he had agreed to meet Fia, not far from the tower but still sheltered from curious eyes. With each step his heart beat faster in anticipation of seeing her. They had been careful about their stolen moments. Only Steinar knew they had been meeting in secret.

Never had Rhodri expected to find the woman he wanted at Malcolm’s court. He had enjoyed the favors of many since coming to Dunfermline, but none had captured his heart like the dark-haired lass from Atholl. Undaunted by what she believed was a love that could never be, she had allowed their love to grow.

This would be their last chance to be alone before he left for Northumbria. As he came through the copse of trees, he saw her waiting in the lee of a large rock, her long dark hair falling down her back over a sapphire blue gown, the same color as her beautiful eyes.

He stilled when he heard her singing. It was one of his own songs and her voice was sweet to his ears.

“You sing a pleasant melody, my love.”

Whirling around, she ran to him. “Oh, Rhodri, I thought you would never come!”

Tortured all morning because he had been unable to touch her, he took her in his arms and kissed her.

Threading her fingers through his head of curls, she pressed her young body against his own.

“I have missed you, my Fia,” he whispered in her ear as he showered her forehead and face with kisses.

In response, she pulled his head down to her and kissed him, a wild open-mouthed kiss that left him breathing heavily.