Page 53 of Summer Warrior

CHAPTER 13

BUSTLING ABOUT THE HALL, checking the preparations for that night’s feast, Ragnhild was careful to see all was done well. It might be a long while before she would again see Somerled’s face. A face she had come to love.

He was everything she had longed for but never expected to find, a man of even temperament, quiet courage and love for his people. Yet she knew all too well his life could be forfeit in King David’s war. And though her fate would be decided by others, still she prayed Somerled would be the man chosen for her.

By the time their guests began arriving, it was full dark outside with the shortened days of December. Though some chieftains arrived by ship, those who came by land carried torches to light their paths. All gave thanks for the warm hearth fire, the mead and the monks’ ale that awaited them. Merry sounds filled the hall from the minstrels’ pipes, rebec, lyre and lute.

Somerled, his son and his companions descended the stairs to the hall, their attire changed to that fitting to dine with the king and his chieftains. She was glad of it for she wanted the leaders of the Isle of Man and their wives to think well of him.

She had chosen her own gown with care. The golden bliaut and the circlet of gold holding in place her long hair were the same ones she had worn in Scotland to meet King David. She had not worn them for Lord Fergus, as Affraic might have preferred, but she would wear them for the Lord of Argyll, Kintyre and Lorne.

“Good evening, my lord,” she greeted Somerled, “and to you, Gillecolum, Liadan and Maurice.”

“The hall is beautiful,” remarked the auburn-haired young woman in her blue bliaut.

“And smells of a feast like to enthrall a man,” put in Maurice.

“Will we eat soon?” asked Somerled’s son.

She chuckled. “Aye, lad. As soon as all the guests are here, the servants will bring out the food. I promise you the feast will be worth waiting for. It was with you and your father in mind that it was prepared.”

Somerled gave her a look of approval.

As the chieftains entered the hall, Ragnhild attended to her hostess duties, introducing Somerled and his companions to the ones he had not met previously. Abbot Bernard arrived with his monks and were hailed by all. Many of the sons and daughters of the chieftains who lived close were being educated by the monks and thus they were held in high esteem.

Once everyone had arrived, Ragnhild directed Somerled, Abbot Bernard and the highest ranking chieftains and their wives to the high table where they would join her and the king and queen. The other chieftains, the garrison commander, the monks and Somerled’s men, she directed to the trestle tables set at right angles to the dais. Liadan, Maurice and Gillecolum she gestured to seats reserved for them at the end of the trestle table nearest the dais.

At the head table, Queen Affraic sat on the king’s right with Maurice on her right and Chieftain Truian and his wife Fritha next to Maurice. On the king’s left sat Abbot Bernard. Next to him was the seat Ragnhild would occupy. On her left, by her own plan, was Somerled. And, on his left, Chieftain Conyll and his wife Eithne.

Her father signaled the musicians to pause and asked Abbot Bernard to give thanks. The abbot rose and bowed his head.

“O Lord, thou giver of gifts, light of the world, our blessed Comforter, we are grateful for another year of peace and a good harvest. Thank you for this bounty, and its sweet refreshment.”

With that, the abbot took his seat and the minstrels began to play again. Servants set platters of steaming food on the tables from which rose enticing smells. Ragnhild was happy to hear the exclamations of delight at the food.

Somerled cut a succulent piece of salmon from the platter before them and laid it at her end of the trencher. Then he began tasting the fish and the onions he set on his side. “You are to be commended for the dishes, my lady,” he said between bites. “They are most pleasing to the taste.”

“I am glad you find the food to your liking. Were you to come for Christmas, there would be roast beef and honeyed chicken. Knowing you could not stay for that day, I wanted to provide you with an Advent feast.”

“And you succeeded. I have not dined so well since King David’s court. But the best part is to be with you, to see your face again, to share the day and evening with you.” Beneath the linen-draped table, he took her hand. “Mayhap later we can be alone for a moment.”

“I would like that,” she said, his words bringing a smile to her face. “For me to be with you is a longed-for pleasure.”

She imagined him eating on his galley or in the woods. He seemed a man who could adapt to harsh circumstances if he must to achieve his goal. But surely Christmas would see him celebrating with his Highlanders. “Will you spend Christmas on Islay?”

“Aye, most likely. After we build the chieftains’ hall and lodgings for the lord and his men, I want to raise a chapel. Do you like the idea?”

“I do,” she said. “’Twould be a fine addition, a place to pray.”

“The island in Findlugan’s Loch is sacred ground, having served the saint and his monks centuries ago.”

“I was on Islay once with my father, that time when we encountered rough seas. It was long ago but, even now, I remember the isle’s beauty.”

“You would like it there,” he said. “The loch is private. All manner of waterfowl, birds and deer claim it as home. It will be the place the clan chiefs gather.”

Ragnhild tried to imagine the isle, the loch and the buildings Somerled spoke of. “Will the structures you build be of timber or stone?”

“Timber with thatched roofs with the possible exception of the chapel. For now, I will build in stone only the strongholds needed to protect the sea lanes. Those will be Norman in design, much like Castle Rushen,” he said, sweeping his gaze around the hall.