Page 49 of Summer Warrior

“Your son?” she asked.

“Aye. Gillecolum, make your bow to the Princess of Man.”

The boy must have been given instruction for he executed a perfect bow and, rising, said, “My lady.”

She smiled. What else could she do in the face of so much charm? “I knew you had been widowed, my lord, and that you had a son. I am happy you have brought him to meet me.” To the boy, she said, “Gillecolum, you are a most handsome lad and clearly resemble your famous father.”

The boy smiled, obviously happy for any comparison to the man he so admired.

Somerled put his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “You honor us with your kind words, Princess. I have just retrieved Gillecolum from Ireland where he has been sojourning with my mother.”

The boy gazed up at his father with a look of adoration.

“Ireland is not far,” she said. Then facing Gillecolum, she asked, “Would you like to come into the castle and have some refreshments?”

The boy nodded enthusiastically.

To Somerled, she said, “’Tis sure my father will ask you both to stay the night. He lacks for male company just now as Christmas approaches and we women are dominating the hall with our preparations. He has his garrison commander, of course, and the isle chieftains but not one, such as yourself, who travels far and brings news. Such a man’s company would be most welcome.” Then with a glance at the Irishman with his ebony hair and beard, smiling down at them from the deck of the ship, she added with feigned sarcasm, “Do bring the king’s foster brother.”

“May I also bring Liadan? She is in my care until I return her to her brother.”

Satisfied at last to know the lovely girl’s place in Somerled’s life, she said, “Of course. I am sure she would be happy to spend some time in the castle.”

THE KING MUST HAVE BEEN apprised of their arrival for he met Somerled at the castle door and invited him, his son and Maurice inside. As Ragnhild had predicted, the king appeared happy to see them. “Come in, come in. ’Tis a chill day and the fire burns brightly.”

Somerled had decided he would not again raise his desire to wed the princess with the King of Man. Let Olaf wonder at his intentions. Instead, he would allow Olaf to believe he had come solely on a matter of business. In truth, there was a matter of importance he wanted to discuss. Rumors had reached him in Ireland of a storm brewing in the north of England, one that might embroil them all.

Inside the great hall, Somerled scanned the large chamber, now rendered festive with torches set into iron brackets and greenery mixed with red berries adorning them, the tapestries and the tables. The scent of fresh herbed rushes lingered in the air. Doubtless, ’twas Ragnhild’s doing.

The deerhounds, sleeping near the hearth fire, rose to greet Somerled as he and his companions handed their mantles to a waiting servant.

Gillecolum had told Somerled he liked hounds and spent some time ruffling the wiry fur of the two who came toward him, wagging their tails.

The king offered his hand to Maurice. “I am favored with two visits in one year!”

The Irishman shook the king’s hand. “You can thank Lord Somerled for that.”

Somerled then proceeded to present Liadan to Olaf. “Liadan was with me at Irvine,” he reminded the king. It took a few minutes to explain why she was with him now but Olaf seemed satisfied.

Finally, Somerled introduced his son. “Gillecolum has been in Ireland and is just now joining me.”

The boy met the king’s inquiring gaze as they faced each other, for Olaf was the same height as Somerled’s son.

“He’s a fine looking lad,” said the king, smiling at Gillecolum. Then to Somerled, “You were married?”

“Aye, Gillecolum’s mother died in childbed.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Somerled saw Ragnhild turn aside to speak to the servants, and heard her ordering them to bring hot mead for their guests.

He and his companions followed the king to the circle of benched seats set around the hearth fire.

“The queen is above stairs with her ladies,” said Olaf, “but she will join us for dinner. Now is a good time to tell me, what brings you to my kingdom?”

He did not look at Ragnhild, who had joined them at the fire, when he answered. She knew the answer was that he had come to see her but, for her father, he could honestly say, “The civil war in England.”

Maurice knew the real reason Somerled had come to the Isle of Man but his expression disclosed nothing. As yet, Gillecolum had no idea of Somerled’s feelings for the princess.

Olaf seemed surprised at his answer. “England? What care we for that?”