Page 94 of The Refuge

Fia went forward to stand by Rhodri. Her father stepped down from the dais to join the king next to the Welsh lord, who was as tall as the king but more slender of build.

To Matad, Malcolm exclaimed, “By all the saints! I want this alliance for Scotland!”

Matad remained silent, watching his daughter.

The king frowned at his mormaer. “Rhodri is a good man, a fine warrior and plays the music of Heaven. And, above all that, he is a king’s son. What more could you want in a son-in-law, Matad?”

Fia’s father stood with one hand on his hip. “All you say is correct, My King, but I do not like the thought of my only child going so far away. ’Tis not even Scotland.”

Rhodri took Fia’s hand and the two gazed longingly at each other. Catrìona knew then Fia’s father would not be able to say her nay. Nor would he deny the king the possibility of an alliance he badly wanted.

“Gwynedd is not far, my lord,” said Cillyn to Matad. “A short sail north to the River Clyde and then a few days’ ride east to Dunfermline or Atholl. I came that way but a sennight ago when my scouts returned with word my nephew was here.”

“And I would promise to bring Fia to see you,” encouraged Rhodri.

Through the whole conversation, Catrìona saw the queen anxiously observing from the dais. Her mouth moved though no words could be heard. She prays!

“Do you love this man?” Matad asked his daughter.

“Oh, aye, Father, I do. Ever since I first glimpsed him. I would willingly follow him to Wales.”

“’Twas the same for me, my lord,” said Rhodri to Fia’s father. “I vow to love her and treasure her all of my days.” When Fia’s father remained silent, Rhodri said, “Would it help if we named our first son Matad and agree he would foster with you?”

The king chuckled.

Fia’s father let out a breath even Catrìona could hear. “Aye, it might,” he said shortly. “But I would have you linger awhile in Dunfermline and wed here.”

“I would not think of taking Fia back to Wales except as my wife,” said Rhodri.

The king nodded his agreement and, on the dais, the queen smiled.

“’Tis agreed,” Malcolm said. “The two will tarry awhile in Dunfermline, as I trust will you, Cillyn, and before they depart, there will be a wedding. More than one if my calculations be true.”