Page 77 of The Refuge

She huffed out a breath. How could she make such a man understand? “I do not think you would like a woman who defies you at every turn.” She refrained from pointing out that she would be just such a woman.

“Nay, I would insist on compliance,” he threw back, his forehead furrowing.

She was searching her mind for a sharp retort when, behind him, she saw a pale sail catch the last rays of the dying sun. “A ship!”

Colbán whipped around. “’Tis the king’s ship.”

* * *

It was gloaming when the king strode down the plank from his ship to meet Margaret who, by then, was waiting on the sand. One of the guards carried a torch, allowing Catrìona to see the gleam in the king’s eyes, matched by that in the eyes of his queen.

“My Lord, I had no idea you would sail to St. Andrews!” exclaimed Margaret.

Malcolm swept her into his arms. “Mo cridhe, I only wanted to give you an easier ride home, one you could share with your husband.”

Margaret’s cheeks flushed. “I am glad you came.”

The company that had traveled with the queen had gathered on the shore to welcome Malcolm. At his words to the queen, smiles broke out on every face.

Catrìona felt a pang of envy at the warmth Margaret shared with her husband.

“I see you all made the journey,” said Malcolm when it became clear he could no longer ignore his men.

“Aye,” said Colbán, stepping forward and speaking for the others. “The queen is safely delivered to St. Andrews.”

Behind the king, bounding down the plank leading from the ship a score of feet away was Giric, heading straight for Steinar who had come to stand beside Catrìona.

Reaching Steinar, the boy took his hand. “Did ye miss me, Scribe?”

“I might have,” Steinar said with a wink at the boy. “How did you talk the king into letting you come?”

With one arm still wrapped around Margaret, Malcolm’s eyes narrowed on the boy. “He did not ask but sneaked onto the ship as it was being loaded. Small mite that he is, he was well hidden behind a crate of altar cloths. We were already in the Forth when he was discovered.”

Margaret smiled at Giric, as if amused by his daring, then looked at her husband. “We only arrived today ourselves.”

The king turned to his captain as if seeking an explanation.

“The weather slowed our progress,” said Colbán. “But the queen found what she was looking for.”

“Aye,” said Margaret, “a proper site for the inn and a church beside it. Come, let us retire to the abbey and I can tell you about it.”

Bishop Fothad, who had been standing behind the king’s guard, strode forward to offer Malcolm a bow. “My Lord, we have food ready if you are hungry.”

“Good eve,” said the king to the white-cowled bishop. “Yea, food is welcome. My men on the ship are ever hungry. And I have brought the bard to entertain us.”

Catrìona turned her attention to the ship. Rhodri stood on the deck, his arm lifted in a gesture of greeting. At his side was a grinning Fia.

“I wonder how she managed that,” Catrìona muttered.

“What?” whispered Steinar.

“’Tis nothing.” However Fia had done it, Catrìona felt her spirits rise at the prospect of having her cousin with her again.

The king beckoned Rhodri to join him and the bard complied, descending the plank with his harp under one arm and his other hand extended to help Fia.

Once the ship’s oars were stowed and the sail furled, the men who worked the lines and rigging joined the party on shore and everyone followed the torch-bearer to the abbey.

Catrìona delighted in the merriment that filled the abbey’s large chamber as platters of fish were served to the king and his crew, along with vegetables, warm bread and much wine. After the meal, there were berries and honeyed cakes for all who wanted them.