Page 48 of The Refuge

When their lips finally parted, he said, “’Tis best we do not continue or I will soon be making love to you in the meadow amid the flowers.”

“You would not…”

“Nay, but that does not mean I do not think of it.” He took her hand and led her to the fallen log they often sat upon.

Changing the subject, she asked, “Why were you late?”

“I would have been here sooner but the king detained Steinar to celebrate his victory over Rian and insisted I join them. Did you see the fight?”

“I did not, but Catrìona told me of it. She is very grateful for his defending Niall. She did not say it, but I think she worries about Steinar’s joining the king’s guard. She cares for your friend, you know.”

“And he for her.”

“Will you go to Northumbria? Catrìona said the king intends you and Steinar both go.”

“I was always to go, but now I shall have Steinar with me.” Glimpsing the sadness in her eyes, he took her small hands in his. “Will you worry for me while I am gone?”

“I will not!” she said too quickly and tried to pull away.

He held on to her hands, bringing her knuckles to his lips. She turned her head to face him, blushing as he kissed her fingers. “I think you will,” he said with a grin. Letting go of her hands, he put his arm around her and drew her close. “Have no fear, my blue-eyed lass from Atholl, I shall return to you.”

“You tease me,” she said, but did not move from his embrace.

“That is only because you are so serious. ’Tis a good balance you are for me, for I am ever one to play.” Then he kissed her again. When the kiss ended, he said, “I will miss seeing your face each day.”

“Aye, and I will miss you,” she said with a pretty blush in her cheeks.

“I would have a token from you, Fia, one of your ribands to carry with me, one that is blue like your eyes.” Many women had given him such tokens over the years but only this one was important. Only this one would he carry next to his heart.

“Aye,” she said smiling, apparently delighted at his request. “I will bring it to the evening meal.”

“We have but a little time now. You asked before about my home in Gwynedd. I will tell you about it and you can tell me about Atholl. I have seen much of England but little of Scotland and I would know more of this land that gave birth to you.”

And so he sat next to her and spoke of the land of his birth. “’Tis a beautiful place, Gwynedd is, with mountains and—as you would call them—lochs. My home lies in the west, not so different from Scotland in appearance. You would like it.”

She turned her face away. “I will never see it.”

“Mayhap you will one day. Now tell me of Atholl.”

As he listened to her description of her home, he did not tell her all that was in his heart. She was everything he wanted in a woman, in a wife. But to her, he was only a bard and an archer, not one who could claim a mormaer’s daughter. He admired her courage in loving a man who was beneath her station. She did not yet know he was more than a bard, more than a warrior. But one day she would.

When she had finished telling him of Dunkeld and Atholl, she faced him, her blue eyes pleading. “Oh, Rhodri, promise me you will be careful in Northumbria.”

“I am always careful, my love. Besides, I have one hundred archers under my command, many with longbows like mine. Once we let our volley of arrows fly, we seek cover in the trees to send more arrows into our enemies.”

“Is that why you always wear green and brown?”

“Aye, to blend with the forest and the land. ’Tis the manner of Welshmen who are skilled with the bow.”

“Does Niall go with you?”

“He does, and most willingly. ’Twill be his first time in battle.”

“Cat will worry.”

“You must assure her I will see Niall safely home. He will be at my side and never away from my protection. I will guard him well.”

She laid her head on his shoulder. “Oh, Rhodri, what is to become of us?”