Page 80 of Summer Warrior

“Aye, I do. And, know this, what I do on the morrow I do for us. Trust me no matter what happens.”

She paused and blinked. Before she could ask, he wished her good night and turned to rejoin his men.

He did not sleep above stairs that night, but with his men and Olaf’s in the great hall. He wanted to make sure they were prepared for the sail to Skye with their weapons ready. “Liadan may come, if you permit, Diarmad, for the princess will be aboard her father’s ship. If there is trouble on Skye, I would ask your sister to guard my lady.”

“Aye, she’ll come,” said Diarmad, his auburn hair and gray eyes so like his sister’s. “’Twould be difficult to hold her back.”

Near dawn, Somerled woke his companions and they set out for the shore.

RAGNHILD SLEPT WELL in the chamber assigned to her in Somerled’s new castle. She paid no mind to the smell of new oak wood. It was a welcome change from the cold, damp stone of Castle Rushen that could be musty after a rain. If she were his wife, she considered happily, she might dwell in many such castles of timber.

She awoke as shafts of sunlight fell across her face, warmed at the thought Somerled was in this place with her, even if not lying next to her. That thought brought a smile to her face. She recalled Somerled’s last words. He was planning something for them, something that would require her trust. What does he intend to do?

The morning passed without issue. Liadan came to help her dress, which she appreciated for her laces would be tighter for the lass’s assistance. “I should have some gowns made like yours,” she told the young woman. “They would be easier to don without my handmaiden.”

“No matter, my lady, I am happy to help.”

“Have you been with Somerled long?” she asked, curious to know more.

Pulling the laces tight, Liadan said, “Since he saved my village of Keills from the Norse pirates. I offered him my sword to guard his back and my eyes and ears as his spy. It is an honor to serve him.”

Ragnhild could well imagine Liadan would be grateful after Somerled had saved her village, but a sword? “You can wield a sword?”

The beautiful girl fingered one of her long auburn plaits, then smiled. “I can,” she said proudly, “though not dressed like this.” She looked down at her blue bliaut. “My brother Diarmad, who sails for Lord Somerled, taught me to use a blade when I was young.”

The girl was only a year or two younger than Ragnhild. Still, she appeared wiser in some ways and less worldly in others. “I am sure Somerled values your presence.”

“He is very fond of you, my lady.”

She smiled. “I do hope so.”

After a meal of herring, bread and berries to strengthen them for the voyage, her father helped her climb onto his longship and set off with Somerled’s two galleys and a longship accompanying them. Her father told her while they ate that Somerled was going to sail with them to Skye.

It was windy on the Sound of Mull as they sailed northwest toward the open sea, causing Ragnhild’s cloak to whip around her as she stood at the gunwale in the bow of the ship.

They had just turned due north to round Ardnamurchan, heading toward the small Isles of Rum and Eigg, when the ship began to slow, falling behind Somerled’s galley. The captain shouted orders to ease the sail to let it flag and then trim it to capture the wind. It did not help. The ship seemed to become heavier, more sluggish, as it wallowed and rolled, going nowhere.

Water from the hold suddenly came surging up through the deck boards.

Alarmed, the captain shouted, “Sire! We are sinking!”

Where Ragnhild stood in the bow, shivering, the water was deeper, now climbing up her legs to her knees. Her gown was sodden but she had gathered her cloak to her waist, realizing of a sudden why Somerled had asked if she could swim. He had also told her to trust him and she would.

Her father, standing amidships, fighting to keep his balance in the rising water, shouted to Somerled, “Save us, for we are sinking!”

“Do not fear, King Olaf, I will save you. But first, I must have your vow to give me Ragnhild’s hand.”

Her father turned to her with furrowed brow. “What is this?”

“I do not know, Father, but I tell you now, I would be happy to be Somerled’s bride.”

Her father looked aghast at the water rising around him, panic on his face for he was so much shorter than the others. Then in a stern voice, he said, “Very well, Daughter, you have sealed your fate.” To Somerled, he cried, “I like not what must be your treachery, but I agree. You have my word to give you my daughter in marriage. Now, Christ on the Cross, save us!”

Somerled promptly brought his ship alongside and took her, her father and all his men aboard while Maurice, Somerled’s brother and a member of Somerled’s crew scurried onto her father’s ship with tools and buckets in hand.

“Your ship will be fine in no time, Olaf,” said Maurice, beaming at her father who huddled, shivering on Somerled’s deck. “Still, it could have been so much simpler if you had just agreed to my lord’s request the first time he made it long ago.”

Ragnhild heard the words on the wind and rejoiced. Somerled had asked for her hand “long ago”?

Once she was secure on Somerled’s ship, he replaced her mantle with his own and took her in his arms. Ignoring his watching crew and those of his other ships whose crews cheered loudly at their lord’s boldness, he kissed her. The cheers grew louder.

His piercing blue eyes softened as he pulled back and met her gaze. “I love you, Princess. I told you once my intentions were honorable and I am ever constant once my heart is given. There is no other woman for me and never will be.”

She threw her arms around his neck and returned his kiss in full measure. “My heart is yours, Somerled.”

Disgruntled at what had been done to his ship, her father grunted as he shed his sodden mantle. “I should have realized this day would come.”

“I’ve other longships from which you may choose, King Olaf, should you want another,” said Somerled. “But as I told you when we met at Irvine, I had no intention of forsaking my quest to make Ragnhild mine. ’Tis well you have finally given me her hand, else I might have been tempted to abduct her, for patience has its end and I have waited long for this moment.”

Olaf gave Ragnhild an accusing look. She did not shrink from it. Instead, she smiled up at Somerled and he tightened his arm around her.

Beneath his bushy red brows, her father regarded Somerled. “I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain. You will fight with me when there is a need and there may very well be when we get to Skye.”

“Aye,” said Somerled, “why do you think I brought three ships? I promised you such an alliance from the beginning.”