Page 57 of Summer Warrior

“You and the men are to be commended,” said Somerled. Then putting his arm around Gillecolum’s shoulders, “Duncan, meet my son. I have just retrieved him from Ireland.”

A handshake was exchanged and the smith said, “A fine lad, indeed.”

“Now,” said Somerled, “lead on. We are eager to be where a fire burns.”

“Since winter is upon us and the principal structures are up,” said Duncan, walking ahead of them toward the great hall, “we build inside, finishing the walls and the furniture. The village men have offered their carpentry skills. Most of those have left for the day but they will return tomorrow.”

Inside the great hall, Somerled was surprised to set his foot on stone, the same gray-green stone used to construct the chapel. As they shed their mantles, he inhaled the smell of newly cut timber and the wood smoke from the hearth fire. Windows high in the walls on each side allowed the afternoon’s pale light to flood the large space.

The men who had been working laid down their tools to greet him, obviously proud of their accomplishments.

“I thank you all for what you have done here,” said Somerled. “I could not have hoped for more. Even a chapel.”

“Aye,” nodded Duncan. “The priest at Keills has agreed to hold services here until another of his brethren can be found.”

“I can always bring one back from Ireland,” offered Maurice.

Somerled acknowledged the offer with a smile. “A Celtic priest would be good.” Then to Duncan, “Will the hall be warm enough for the men this winter?”

“We keep the fire burning through the night,” said Duncan, “so the men can sleep here on pallets.”

Somerled nodded. “That is good, a warm place to shelter.”

“Already there is a table with benches,” remarked Maurice, glancing toward the long table before them.

“That will become the high table,” explained Duncan. “There will be two more, longer tables when we are finished. Then all the men and those who come from the village to help us can eat here.”

Liadan scanned the room. “’Tis bare. The women of Keills could do much to make this a more welcoming space.”

Duncan spoke up. “They have already helped a great deal to make the lord’s lodgings comfortable. There, you will find a large bed with a goose feather cushion, warm furs and pillows.”

In his mind, Somerled envisioned Ragnhild spread out across the large bed, her long red hair strewn across the pillow, waiting for her lord. He sighed, hoping the vision would, one day, be reality. For now, he must be concerned for his men. “Are there lodgings for my men besides the floor of the hall?”

“Aye,” said the smith, “we are building them but they are not quite finished. And we thought to have a guards’ house on the shore of the loch.”

“A good idea,” said Somerled.

“Have you food?” asked Liadan, gazing at the bare table.

“Aye, we do,” one man spoke up. “Geese cleaned and ready to roast over the fire and fish caught this morning. The women of Keills brought us apple tarts and root vegetables.”

Somerled’s stomach rumbled when Liadan asked about dinner. He had been hungry even before the long walk from Loch Indaal. Likely, his crew was as well.

“I assure the men eat well,” said Duncan with a hint of pride.

“You are a good man,” said Somerled, patting the smith on the back. “Tell us what we can do to help.”

“I’ll get the men started with dinner and, while the geese are roasting outside, I want to show you the other buildings.” With a look of satisfaction at all they had accomplished, Duncan said, “I think you will be pleased, my lord.”

“I am already pleased. And I am eager to join the men in finishing all we planned. It will soon be time to gather the chiefs.”