Page 81 of The Refuge

Trying to lighten her mood, he said, “I would expect no less with fierce wildcats lurking among the trees.”

She tossed him a smile. “Aye, dangerous beasts are everywhere.”

The king’s captain approached just then to escort her to where the queen and Audra were ascending the ramp to the ship. Steinar stepped aside.

Once all was loaded, the queen, her maidservant and Audra retired to the small tent erected midship. Catrìona and Fia joined Rhodri to sit on a fixed bench. The rest of the men scrambled aboard, took up the oars and rowed the ship to deeper waters. Once there, they stowed the oars and raised the huge square sail to catch the wind.

“The wind is from the north!” shouted the master shipman to the king. “We will be quickly home.”

They sailed from St. Andrews, heading into the North Sea and then south around Fife toward the Firth of Forth. It was nearly August and the weather was fair. Still, when the wind picked up, it was chill and the waters splashed against the ship’s hull, the spray misting over them.

Steinar leaned against the hull, his eyes darting to where Catrìona sat next to her cousin. The two women had drawn their cloaks tightly around them. Rhodri and Giric sat near them, Giric pressed against Catrìona, as if for warmth.

The king prowled the deck like a lion confined to a cage. Malcolm was unused to being in a small space, albeit the deck of his ship was larger than most. Eventually, Colbán drew Malcolm aside for a word and the two stood in the prow talking, their words swept away by the wind.

From time to time, the master seaman would shout a command to come about and the lines connected to the sails were loosened and the huge square sail brought around to catch the wind. The seamen then hauled on the ropes to pull the sail taut and keep them sailing into the blustery wind. Steinar admired the ease with which they handled the ship.

When they were not needed to change the sail, the seamen sat on chests next to the oar holes or leaned against the hull as Steinar did.

It was not long before they reached the wide estuary that was the Firth of Forth. Though the waters were not as rough as the North Sea, it was still difficult for one who was used to land to move around the deck, especially if, like Steinar, one had a troublesome leg.

Watching Catrìona laughing at something Rhodri had said, he decided to join them, avoiding Colbán’s harsh glare following him as he made his way to the bench occupied by the small group.

Catrìona and Fia were listening to Giric’s questions about sailing and ships. To Steinar’s surprise, it was Rhodri who answered them. The bard, as it turned out, had sailed the waters off Wales as a lad. Rhodri explained, “You cannot grow up in a small country surrounded on three sides by water without learning to sail. And Dublin is only a few hours by boat from Gwynedd.”

“If ’tis true,” Steinar interjected, “why does the color of your face match your tunic?”

“I said I learned to sail,” replied his friend, who did, indeed, appear a bit green, “I did not say I liked it overmuch. My preferred habitation is the forest of which there are many in Gwynedd and Powys.”

Ignoring the occasional glare from Colbán, who remained in the prow with the king, Steinar took a seat next to Catrìona with Giric nestled between them for shelter from the biting wind.

Rhodri talked on about the small wooden ships in which his countrymen sailed the coasts of Gwynedd, holding Giric in rapt attention. Fia, Steinar noted, sat very close to the bard on his other side and not for the chill air, he was certain. Her eyes were fixed on Rhodri and, as he spoke, she listened with the same adoring expression as the boy.

Giric might be between them, but Steinar felt the nearness of Catrìona like a strong pull. The wind brought her scent to him as well as her laughter. Green eyes glistening, she listened to one of Rhodri’s tales and said to Giric, “Do not believe all the bard tells you. Fairies do not live in the woods of Wales.”

“Are you so certain?” Steinar questioned, for he did love to stir her to argue.

“Not you, too!” she cried.

“Mayhap they only live in Wales,” suggested Giric.

Catrìona rolled her eyes to the heavens and, shooting him a side-glance, said, “I give up. ’Tis possible, I suppose, God gave Wales fairies.”

“Aye,” said Rhodri with a wink at Giric. “He might have done.”

The sun was high in the sky when Audra emerged from the queen’s shelter with the maidservant in tow. Expressing concern that the queen needed to keep up her strength, Audra suggested it was time they ate.

The king took up his wife’s cause. “Aye, let’s have some food for Margaret and her ladies.”

Steinar had no doubt the king, too, was hungry and, since the waters of the Forth were calm enough to allow them to eat before they made port, he thought the suggestion a good one.

Colbán directed the men to assist and soon a bench was laid with bread, cheese and fruit.

“I expect you are not interested in food,” Steinar said to Rhodri.

The bard gave him an uncharacteristic smirk. “I will wait for land ere I dine, thank you.” Fia patted his hand and the two exchanged a smile.

“In Malcolm’s hall, you will not starve,” Steinar tossed back before following Catrìona and Giric to the food.