Read Rebel Warrior (Medieval Warriors #3) Online

Authors: Regan Walker

Tags: #Romance, #Medieval, #Fiction, #Historical

Rebel Warrior (Medieval Warriors #3) (35 page)

BOOK: Rebel Warrior (Medieval Warriors #3)
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At last, Malcolm set Duncan from him. “Go, my son and Godspeed.”

CHAPTER 17

Steinar turned when the tower door suddenly opened and a man he recognized as one who had ridden with Maerleswein strode inside. Steinar rose and, going to the man, accepted the parchment he thrust at him.

He meant to carry it to Malcolm where he and the queen ate on the dais, but the king shouted, “Read it!”

Steinar glanced toward Catrìona where she sat eating with the other ladies before opening the sealed parchment. Scanning its contents, he raised his voice so all in the hall could hear. “The Normans have crossed back into Northumbria. All is well in Lothian.”

The hall erupted in loud exclamations of joy.

With a glance at his queen, Malcolm stood and waited for the din to die down. When he had their attention, the king said, “There has been enough sadness. And enough of the Normans’ threat hanging over us. ’Tis time for happy entertaining of our guests from Orkney and Wales and for some rewards I have been planning. This I will do tomorrow night and we will celebrate but lift now your goblets and drink with me!”

All rose from their seats and downed a drink of wine and the hall erupted in loud cheers as the tension hanging over them for so long dissipated.

Steinar went to where Catrìona sat with the ladies. “Tomorrow, the king will determine your fate, I think.”

She looked up, her expression confident. “Nay, ’tis only God who will determine my future, as He will yours.”

Steinar bowed and walked away, admiring Catrìona’s faith but despairing for what he believed the king’s decision would be. He would fight for her if a battle would win her hand but how could he defy the king to whom he was sworn?

*     *     *

The next evening the hall was crowded with their many visitors as well as those eager to hear of the king’s rewards for those he favored. The moment it was explained to Steinar what the seating on the dais would be, he understood the king’s decision had not altered its course.

Colbán was to have Catrìona and, as it was explained to Steinar, he was to be given Audra of Fife. Much as he admired Duff’s daughter, his heart sank at the wrong of it. He loved Catrìona and wanted only her. In his heart he had long known there would never be another like his high-spirited tree nymph.

The king’s captain escorted Catrìona to the dais to take her place between Colbán and the Mormaer of Atholl, her uncle, who sat next to the king. From the anxious looks she gave her cousin, Steinar understood the auburn-haired beauty had not been privy to the king’s decision to give Colbán her hand. She must know she could not say nay to the king if he decreed she should wed his captain. A queen’s lady went where the king commanded.

Steinar helped Audra to take her place on the dais between him and Duff, who sat next to the queen. Audra had the look of a startled doe, understanding slowly dawning as she darted glances from Steinar to her father, who sat in stony silence, his bushy brows framing his steady eyes as he gazed into the hall.

Colbán had barely taken his seat before he propelled himself up by his good arm and strode to where the king sat sipping his wine. The captain bent to whisper in the king’s ear. The king’s brows drew together, as he listened intently. After a few moments, he beckoned Duff to him from where he sat on the other side of the queen.

The three conversed in whispers, oblivious to the interested stares of those in the hall. Food was served and savory smells rose in the air from the elaborate feast of swan, partridge and roast boar, but no one ate. All waited upon the king.

When the three at the dais finished their conversation, the king nodded to Colbán. Duff raised his bushy brows and shrugged. Colbán and Duff went back to their seats and the king leaned into the queen, saying something only she could hear. Then Malcolm shifted in his chair toward Matad and whispered yet again; this time the conversation took a longer span of time.

By now, the entire hall was quiet and staring at the dais, watching the bizarre series of whispers, curious to know what was afoot.

When the king and Matad finished their whispers, Malcolm shot to his feet, goblet in hand. “Tonight we have much to celebrate!”

Steinar cringed, his stomach rolling as he awaited the announcement ending his dreams of happiness. On the other side of the dais, Catrìona looked about to cry. But oddly, the queen was smiling.

“First,” said the king, “I have two warriors to reward with lands and a title.”

“Rise, Colbán of Moray!”

The king’s captain stood, straight and tall, his long hair confined by a leather strip at his crown and his red beard neatly trimmed for the occasion.

“Colbán, ever-faithful captain of my guard, you have served me long and well. Hereafter, you shall be Mormaer of Strivelyn, with all those lands surrounding, close enough to Dunfermline should I need you to come quickly. You are charged with building a large fortress to garrison some of my men. There I intend to visit often.”

A loud cheer went up and the captain bowed. “You are generous, My Lord.”

Colbán returned to his seat and the king turned to face Steinar.

“Rise Steinar of Talisand!”

Like the captain before him, Steinar stood and faced the king. “For the English thegn’s son who became a rebel and defied the Norman tyrant, then became my trusted scribe and saved the life of his king, you shall hereafter be the Mormaer of Levenach and shall have lands in the Vale of Leven. You are charged with building a hillfort and guarding Scotland’s western border. Your new ship should help in these efforts.”

Steinar bowed and gave the words of assent and thanks, as he must, even as Catrìona gasped. It must have come as a shock to learn he would have her father’s lands and a ship besides. It broke his heart to think she would not be with him when he claimed them.

Loud praise sounded around the hall, for the king’s pronouncements were popular among all those gathered. Goblets were raised and wine quaffed.

The king raised his hand and the hall quieted. “There is more, good people of Alba. Audra of Fife, please rise.” Audra, dutiful and looking as if she feared the worst, slowly rose, her eyes fixed on Malcolm as he walked to where she stood next to her father. The king took her hand and escorted her to the other side of the dais where Colbán sat. The king’s captain rose and accepted her hand. “Today these two are betrothed,” announced the king.

Loud cheers erupted.

Steinar sat, confused and amazed.
Colbán is to have Audra
?

Tears streamed down Audra’s face as Colbán bowed over her hand. “My lady, I hope this pleases you, as it does me.”

“Oh, aye, my lord, it does,” she said, joy evident on her face.

Sitting beside Steinar, Duff smiled.

A few bawdy jests sounded from the men before the king quieted them with a loud “Hist!” When the hall was silent, Malcolm said, “That leaves me with the prize long sought by my former scribe, now Mormaer of Levenach. Catrìona of the Vale of Leven, your uncle, the Mormaer of Atholl, has agreed with my decision to betroth you to Steinar.” Without waiting to hear Catrìona’s choked reply, the king raised his goblet and loudly proclaimed, “So be it!”

Everyone in the hall raised their goblets and quaffed their red wine before slamming their goblets down on the tables and shouting the king’s words. “So be it!”

Steinar leapt to his feet, ran to the other end of the dais and pulled a startled Catrìona into his arms, kissing her soundly in front of all. “My love,” he said to her tear-streaked face. “It was always you and only you that I wanted. Will you happily be my bride?”

“Aye,” she said. “Oh, aye.”

“Heirs by next summer!” someone shouted from the rear of the hall and the chant was picked up and carried around the room.

On the dais, all three ladies blushed scarlet, even the queen.

*     *     *

That night was a blur for Catrìona as her wedding and that of Audra’s were added to Fia’s and the three of them spoke excitedly of their future. She had slept little for the joy that filled her heart at being betrothed to the man she loved.
And with lands in the vale!
She had not anticipated all the blessings that were now hers. But she was not slow to thank God for all He had done.

That morning, many prayers of thanks were spoken. And after, Margaret, beaming with happiness, said, “I could not have asked God for more than to see the three of you happily wed.” Then looking at Isobel and Elspeth, the queen added, “Now I must pray for husbands for you two and the ladies who will join you in the future.”

In the hall, Catrìona broke her fast with Steinar. Before she could tell Giric, he came running in shouting, “I heard ye will wed the scribe!”

“Aye, ’tis true,” she said, glancing at Steinar who wore a broad grin.

Giric joined them to eat. After the meal, they went about their separate tasks for there was much to do before the weddings that were to take place the next day.

Catrìona and Fia worked to embellish the gowns they would wear and Audra, who now occupied her chamber alone, came to join them.

That afternoon, servants bustled about calling for more tables and benches, village women flowed into the hall carrying baskets of flowers, and wonderful smells wafted from the kitchen to the second story, making Catrìona’s mouth water.

Early in the afternoon, Steinar knocked at her chamber door and suggested a walk to the village to see Giric.

“Giric was excited about our marrying,” she said as she walked with Steinar down the stairs to the hall. “Have you spoken again with him?”

“Aye,” he said throwing her a look that told her he would say more.

“And?” she asked, raising her brows.

He opened the door of the tower and let her pass through. “He worries for our leaving.” She walked a little ahead of him. He caught up to say, “I wanted to ask you before I talked with the lad.” From the corner of her eye she saw him snatch a glance at her as if checking her mood. “I would like to take the boy with us to the vale and, if you are willing, raise him as our own.”

A smile broke out on her face and, unbidden, tears filled her eyes. “Nothing would please me more than to have Giric with us and I think he will not want to be parted from you.” She hoped one day God would give them children but to have Giric as their own child now was a great boon.

He stopped in the path and turned to face her, ignoring the looks of those passing by. Taking both of her hands in his, he said, “We are of one mind, little cat. ’Tis a good sign of the days to come, is it not?”

She kissed him on the cheek, a light peck. “A good sign, yea.” Then, thinking of the name he had called her, she said, “You called me ‘little cat’.”

“Aye, ’tis how I think of you. ’Tis an affectionate term. Should I call you something else?”

“Nay. ’Tis the name my father called me. I have always loved it.”

“Then little cat you shall be.” He squeezed her hand, kissed her on the forehead and ignored the knowing smiles of those passing them as they held hands and continued down the path.

“What of Angus and Niall?” she asked, just realizing she had yet to speak to either about returning to the vale.

“I assumed you would want both to go with us so I asked if they would come.”

Her anxious gaze met his.

“They said yes; they will both come.”

“Oh, I am glad!” she exclaimed.

“Niall wants to be near Wales to visit Rhodri, and both miss the vale as much as you do. Except for Niall, who used his time here to perfect his skill with the bow, I think neither is fond of life at court. And Angus has a fancy for your handmaiden. Did you know?”

“Nay, Deidre has been most secretive about who she steals away to see, but Angus is a fierce protector and I can see how she would respond to him. Mayhap she liked him before and I just did not see it.”

When they got to the village, the men and women greeted them with broad smiles. “ ’Tis one of the brides,” said one woman, waving from where she swept the short path leading to her cottage.

At the door of the orphans’ cottage, fair-haired Aeleva welcomed them. “All the women are picking flowers for the chapel and the hall.”

“Everyone knows they are invited?” Steinar asked.

“Aye, ’tis going to be a grand celebration. The women who were in Dunfermline ere I came say nothing like it has occurred since the king wed Lady Margaret.”

Happiness welled up inside Catrìona. She would share one of the most important days of her life with Fia and Audra, as well as the queen who meant so much to her.

“Is Giric about?” Steinar asked, peering around the side of the cottage at the now finished chicken pen. “We have something to tell him.” He squeezed Catrìona’s hand, sending tingling sensations through her body.

“Let’s see,” said Aeleva, one fist braced on her generous hip. “After doing his chores, the boy skipped off. Said something about finding the two of you and flying the falcon.”

They thanked her, said they would see her at the wedding and went in search of Giric. They found him in the mews.

“There ye are!” said Giric, rushing to them.

Machar congratulated them on their betrothal and took Kessog from his perch. “Once the lad came, I thought you would be here soon,” he said to Catrìona. “Your tiercel is just ending his molt and is anxious to fly.”

Giric jumped up and down. “Oh, can we?”

Catrìona looked at Steinar and seeing him nod, she said, “Aye, we will fly him and we have something to ask you on our way to the field.”

When they told the boy of their desire to take him with them and raise him as their own, he stopped and stared, great tears falling from his thin face before they crouched before him and he leapt into their open arms. “I had hoped ye would,” Giric said. “I even asked the queen if she would pray for me. And she did!”

The hours they spent with Giric in the meadow that day were ones Catrìona would always remember. The sky above was a brilliant blue, the grass a deep emerald green, the flowers yellow and white at the edge of the forest.

Kessog flew from the gauntlet, happy to be streaking through the air once again, searching out a mallard.

BOOK: Rebel Warrior (Medieval Warriors #3)
8.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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