Page 73 of The Refuge

Steinar observed the predatory look in the eyes of the king’s captain, as they narrowed on the woman they both desired. Any man would have noticed the way Catrìona came alive as she described the inn she imagined, her beauty only enhanced by her excitement for the new venture.

“The pilgrims will find a welcome resting spot and the Saxons in Dunfermline with little to do will have a new mission,” Catrìona said, glancing back at Margaret, who still conversed with the Culdee. “I think the queen is pleased.”

Margaret looked up and beckoned them to her. As they neared, she said, “Did you know there is an ancient stone cross here?” They shook their heads and the queen’s blue gaze returned to the monk. “Can you show us?” Audra translated.

“Certainly, My Lady,” he said, again with Audra’s assistance. “’Tis not far. It marks the end of the chapel property.” Oran and Margaret strolled off, the rest of them following.

The stone cross was immense, taller than any man, and two feet across at the base. Yet its design was simple with no elaborate carvings, as some Celtic crosses had that Steinar had seen.

Margaret stared at the stone cross for some time before saying, “I think the pilgrims will love to see such an ancient cross. A spot for the pilgrims’ inn.” Smiling at the monk, she said, “Oh, I am glad we have found it so quickly. God Himself must be directing our steps.”

Audra made clear the queen’s words for Oran. Next to Audra, Colbán studied the cross, rubbing his hand over his short red beard. “Might be Pictish,” he said. “’Tis old.”

“Do you think so, my lord?” Audra asked solicitously.

The king’s captain nodded, turning his head to Audra. “Aye, my lady.”

Steinar watched the play of emotions that crossed Catrìona’s face as her gaze lingered on Audra and the king’s captain. Was she jealous of Colbán’s attention to her fellow lady? If Catrìona favored Colbán, Audra’s attention to the captain might be of concern after what Domnall had done. Last night Duff’s daughter had soothed the captain’s anger. It could be that both had a tendre for him. Once Steinar and the king’s captain were raised to be mormaers, as the king intended, they would be equal in rank. Which of them might Catrìona prefer as husband? He supposed it mattered little what a woman wanted. The king would decide and none would go against his will. But it mattered to Steinar.

The queen stared admiringly at the massive cross. Beside her, Oran said, “There are large stones that stand in a circle near here. You might want to see those, too. ’Tis not known precisely what purpose they served though some say the ancients thought them to be a dancing ring for the fairies.” Shaking his head, he added, “We try and dissuade the people from such beliefs but we are not always successful.”

With Audra’s assistance, the queen was made to understand and replied, “Tomorrow, mayhap.” Placing her hand on her rounded belly, she said, “For now, I think I shall find my tent and rest for a while.”

Audra said a few words to the monk in Gaelic to which he replied, “Of course, My Lady.”

Margaret thanked the Culdee and accepted his invitation to dine with him and the other monks. Then she took Catrìona’s arm and, together with Audra, walked toward where the cream-colored tents stood beneath the shelter of the trees a short distance away.

Steinar followed. At his side, Colbán said, “It seems we have accomplished our purpose here. Tomorrow we can leave for St. Andrews.”

“Aye,” said Steinar, “if the queen is feeling well enough. She appeared tired to me. The babe might be robbing her of strength.”

Colbán nodded.

Steinar thought of what yet must be done. “If our party is to eat this eve, we’d best hunt or the monks will be serving us one of those meager chickens.”

Colbán slapped him on the back. “Aye, a hunt is just what I need.”

* * *

As the afternoon waned, Catrìona left Audra, who was napping, to check on the queen. Assured by the maidservant that Margaret was resting and did not have need of her ladies, Catrìona headed deeper into the forest to see to her private needs.

Sunlight pierced the dark green canopy above her, dappling the forest floor, but the light faded as the trees grew dense. Like the woodlands around Dunfermline, they were filled with chattering birds, but there was something more untamed about this woodland.

Having seen to her needs, she carefully stepped around some twisted roots when an animal’s low growl brought the forest to a sudden silence. She froze, her heart racing, then slowly raised her head to the source of the sound. Above her, a giant cat, gray with black stripes, bared its teeth and hissed sharply while sinking its claws into the thick branch on which it was perched. Its pale green eyes narrowed on her as it spit furiously, poised as if to strike.

Catrìona screamed and reared back just as the wild cat stamped forward, hissing and spitting. She reached for her knife sheathed at her hip.

Strong arms surrounded her, pulling her away from the cat. “I will protect you, my lady.” Even without turning, she recognized the voice of the king’s captain. Turning her in his arms, he held her to his hard chest. “Do not fear the beast. My sword is yours to command.”

She gazed into his brown eyes, seeing concern. “I am grateful, sir.” Behind her, the huge cat hissed and growled. She pressed closer to the king’s captain. His tunic smelled of an unfamiliar man’s sweat but she was too afraid to care. Never had she seen an enormous feline like this one baring its knife-like teeth and claws in such a menacing manner.

Colbán bent his head to bring his lips down on hers, kissing her most forcefully. Jerking her head back, she protested, “Nay, sir. Do not. I may fear the teeth of the wild animal but you are not without teeth yourself.”

She looked behind her and, seeing the animal had gone, pushed away from the tall captain. In truth, she feared him as much as the beast.

From the woods came a familiar chuckle. “’Twas only a wee cat, more afraid of you than you were of it.”

“Steinar?” Her eyes searched the thick growth of trees for a head of golden hair. She spotted him leaning against a tree. “’Twas no wee cat!” she insisted. “The beast was wild and fierce. It scared me.”