Page 75 of Bound By Honor
It was not only the hound that had grown. Dermot was right. The lad was taller and more freckles dotted his fair skin. Angus scratched the top of Lir’s gray head, more elongated than the pup’s he had seen a year before. “Aye, the hound will be enormous.”
Looking past the boy to his mother, Angus glimpsed the sun in her smile. Could it be that his longing for her had made her more beautiful than before? He left Brian to Duncan and John and crossed the courtyard to her.
Kissing her raised hand, he said, “I hope that smile is for me, my lady.” He was certain she blushed. “Have I reason to hope you missed me?”
“I smile for all of Dunseverick’s visitors, my lord.” Mayhap she saw the disappointment in his eyes, for she added, “but particularly for the ones whose faces I have longed to see.” Without waiting for him to reply, she greeted his companions, who had joined them, and called for her son. “We have prepared refreshments for you, Lord Angus. Do your men who remain with the ships require anything?”
“Nay, my lady. They will be fine. Since we had to leave room for horses, we brought meat, bread and chickens aplenty.”
The large sack he had asked his guard to carry was being lifted down. “We bring grain for you.” Angus was glad he’d thought of that, recalling the rain that had destroyed so many crops in Ireland.
She began walking toward the great hall. “That was very thoughtful. We will put it to good use.” Angus went with her, young Brian and Lir beside him and his brother and cousin falling into step behind.
Once inside the hall, a servant accepted the sack of grain from Angus’ guard. Lady Áine took her young son by the hand and excused herself to lead Brian to a chamber off the great hall.
The boy looked back at Angus.
Angus, seeing the eagerness in the boy’s eyes, said, “I will visit with you later.”
A fire blazed in the great hearth, adding much-needed warmth to the cavernous chamber. The coverings had been pulled back from the windows allowing the sun’s rays to fall upon the rushes that smelled of herbs, yet the stone hall would have been dimly lit and colder without the multitude of large beeswax candles that were set in iron stands.
A servant came to take their satchels and cloaks. Angus wore no mail, only a tunic and surcoat over his shirt and hosen. His cloak was fur-lined as he preferred at sea except in the summer. When he had no need to wear a helmet, he had taken to wearing a hat, particularly when calling upon noblemen. The dark brown felt cap, pointed at the front, shaded his eyes from the sun. This, too, he handed to the servant.
Seeing Lord Cumee look up from where he stood by the fire, Angus and his companions strode toward him. “The three of you are a welcome sight,” said the Irish lord. A servant brought them ale and, once each had a cup in hand, Lord Cumee said, “Earl Richard will be relieved to know you have arrived. As you might imagine, now that the decision has been made to go, he is anxious to deliver his army to Edward.”
“I was told there would be a thousand or more, some mounted,” said Angus. “Will they all come to us here or might we need to sail to Dunluce?”
“Once we send word, there will be hundreds here within a day but some will doubtless gather at Dunluce. There is a wide beach west of the castle where you can set your ships ashore.”
ÁINE HAD TAKEN Brian to his tutor, who had begun his lessons a fortnight ago. “I might have suggested waiting until he is older,” the priest told her, “but the lad is bright and willing.” That done, Áine went to the kitchens to advise the cook of the number of guests they would be entertaining that night. She had planned the meal just after she spotted the sails.
“Will they stay long, my lady?” asked the cook.
Áine saw the concern in her eyes. “I should think only a few days. They are here to transport the Earl of Ulster’s army to England. And Lord Angus says we need not feed his men who have come with his ships. But he has brought us a gift of grain.”
With the scarcity of grain, they had learned to adapt the dishes they served. While there were oats enough for the horses and grass fodder for the cattle, bread was rarely seen on the table except for Sundays. Still, the castle garden thrived so that vegetables and herbs were plentiful. The orchards produced apples and hazelnuts in season, which they shared with the people. Fish and fowl were often part of a meal. And eggs, cooked many ways, were offered at breakfast.
She had wondered if the Isles had suffered from the same storms that had destroyed crops in Ireland and the rain that followed, leading to famine. But with Lord Angus’ gift of grain she thought not. Like Ireland, England had experienced a dearth of grain and other foods. Were the Isles blessed by God so as to thrive? Lord Angus had never spoken of going without though, as an even-tempered man, he was not given to complain. Whatever the conditions, she felt certain he would go to great lengths to keep his people from starving.
When she returned to the hall, her brother and father were sitting by the fire talking. Lord Angus was gone, along with his brother and cousin. Lir was lying next to her father. As she approached, the hound got to his feet, wagging his tail. Scratching his wiry head, she asked her father, “Has Lord Angus returned to his men?”
“No,” said Dermot. “He has ridden to Dunluce with Duncan and John to inquire of the earl the number of men and horses he expects will muster there.”
“Ah,” she said, understanding. “Do you think he will return for dinner?”
Her father gave her a curious smile. “Yes, he was very specific about that. He said, ‘Please tell Lady Áine that we will return for the evening meal, assuming, of course, we are invited.’”
“You told him he was invited, yes?” She was horrified that Lord Angus should have to ask.
“We told him, though I do not think wild horses would keep him away.” This was followed by her father’s hearty laugh.
Dermot joined in. “Aye, Sister, the man is fair gone for you.”
Embarrassed, Áine frowned at their silliness. “You jest at the expense of Kintyre’s lord.”
“Mayhap,” said her father, “though we do not like him less for the cause he gives us to tease you. ’Tis all in good fun.”
Though she did not like being the source of their amusement, she could not deny the joy she felt at the return of the Scottish lord, even if she was not the reason he had come.
