Page 72 of The Refuge

Catrìona’s prayers had been disturbed by horrible images from her dream of the night before, but once she was seated at the table and looked across at Steinar’s smiling face, the images faded from her mind. He had come at her scream in the night to comfort her. She could still feel the warm skin of his bare chest against her cheek and hear his beating heart. The memory caused her own heart to race and she forced her gaze to her gruel. What must he have thought?

After a few bites of the gruel, which sadly lacked raisins, she shifted her gaze to the window where sunlight streamed in through the open shutters, drawing her attention to the trees outside and the sound of chirping birds. “To where do we ride today?”

Next to her, the queen said, “Today we will see a place Duff believes might serve for the inn. Dalgynch is not far and ’twould be a good halfway point for the pilgrims coming from Dunfermline. The Culdees have a small church there. Duff thought they might be willing to have the pilgrims lodged nearby.”

Soon after, they were ready to depart. Catrìona again rode her horse. Colbán had tried to dissuade her from riding, telling her again it was more proper for a lady to ride in the cart with the queen, but sensing he did not want to argue with her in front of Margaret, Catrìona prevailed and remained on her horse. As before, the queen, her maidservant and Audra rode in the cart.

To her mind, the most important person was the queen, who had not objected to her lady’s decision to ride, only giving Catrìona a knowing smile as the captain reluctantly helped her to mount.

She caught Steinar stifling a chuckle. He shook his head while stroking the neck of his great black horse. “Best to let the lady do as she wishes,” he said to Colbán. Then, tossing Catrìona a look of feigned disdain, he added, “She usually does.”

The queen looked up, a concerned expression on her face, but Catrìona just laughed. Steinar knew her well. He would never have insisted she sit in the cart when she could command her own horse.

Catrìona enjoyed the pleasant morning that took them through green meadows dotted with flowers. Steinar seemed to be in a better mood today as he shared tales of his home and his sister. It seemed Catrìona and Steinar’s sister Serena had much in common, which the scribe did not seem to mind. He laughed much as he recounted his youth. Catrìona could not help but admire a man who had lost his home and yet could smile.

* * *

Even traveling at a leisurely pace, as they did, it was only midday when they emerged from the woods and Steinar glimpsed what he assumed was the small village of Dalgynch in the distance.

A short while later, he called a halt to the column and pulled rein in front of a stone chapel. Next to it was a large cottage where, he supposed, the few monks dwelled. In front of the stone building, a too-thin chicken scratched in the dirt. On the other side of the cottage, a reed fence surrounded a garden as large as the chapel. The plants, grown tall with the summer rains, appeared to be thriving. Several gray-robed monks, bent to harvesting turnips, looked up at their arrival. Beyond the garden, a few cows meandered about in a patch of grass.

Before they could dismount, the door of the chapel flew open and a monk, half-tonsured in the Culdee tradition and wearing a gray woolen cowl and sandals, hurried toward them. Behind Steinar and Catrìona, the king’s captain helped the queen and the other women down from the cart. The monk must have recognized the queen, for he bowed low before her and said, “My Lady, I am Oran. Welcome to our humble abode.”

Steinar assisted Catrìona to the ground and she walked the short distance to where Margaret was explaining to Oran their purpose in coming. The monk, a man of middle years with a mild sort of face, appeared delighted with the queen’s idea.

“Many pilgrims pass this way and, while we can accommodate them in the chapel, we cannot provide them lodging. An inn would certainly be desirable.”

With that, Oran, who was nearly as thin as his chickens, escorted Margaret and the three other women into the cottage.

Steinar followed behind them and stood inside the door, waiting to see if Margaret had need of him.

The monk offered the queen a seat, a cup of ale and some bread and cheese. Fanning herself as if glad to be out of the sun, Margaret gratefully accepted the modest provisions.

Catrìona and Audra took seats on either side of their mistress. The maidservant stood against the wall.

Steinar approached the queen. “With your permission, My Lady, I will help Colbán to see the tents raised. If you are agreed, I can show your maidservant where yours will be.”

“Of course,” said the queen and waved him off. Her maidservant followed him out the door.

Once the horses had been watered and the men and servants occupied with setting up tents, Steinar pointed out to the maidservant where the queen’s tent would stand. Then he and Colbán went looking for the queen and her ladies.

“I expect we will find the ladies in the chapel,” said Colbán.

“Possibly,” said Steinar, but thinking how eager Catrìona and the queen were to see their project made a reality, he said, “or they might already be looking at sites for the inn.” His conjecture proved correct as they soon discovered.

The women, accompanied by Oran, were studying a plot of open land lying a short distance from the chapel. Nearby, a tree-lined burn, about ten feet across, burbled over rocks.

The queen was deep in conversation with the monk, Audra translating the Gaelic. The Culdee was pointing out various features of the land when Catrìona, seeing Steinar and Colbán approach, came toward them, leaving Audra with the queen.

Catrìona’s eyes glistened with excitement. “’Tis the perfect place for the inn, do you not think?”

Steinar nodded, but he was more interested in her than the ground they were inspecting. Her auburn plaits shone in the sun like burnished copper. “’Tis most entrancing.”

Either she had not understood he was speaking of her, or she chose to ignore it, because she answered her own question. “It will serve the pilgrims well. They will have the chapel in which to pray before going on with their journey, lodging for the night, and vegetables from a large garden.”

“Aye,” said Steinar, “all that is possible.”

Colbán cast an approving glance at Catrìona. “If the inn is well placed, it can be easily defended.”