Silver Flame. Hannah Howell

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СКАЧАТЬ “What will be, will be. Dinnae ye want a wife and children? But tell us so and we will leave ye be.”

      “I want a wife and a brood of children. I want what ye have, Father,” Gamel added in a quiet voice.

      “I have been most fortunate.”

      Gamel ran a hand through his auburn hair. “’Tis hard to put into words all that I seek in a woman. I want one who can both enflame and comfort, one I can speak with about anything—even of my fears. I can only keep saying that I seek what ye have found.”

      Gamel shook his head before continuing. “Therein lies my difficulty. I suspected that what ye and Edina share is rare, but I didnae ken just how rare. Search though I do, it continues to elude me.”

      “Mayhaps ye look too hard, son.”

      “Only God can say. Mayhaps I will settle for less one day.” He stood up and smiled at his father. “For now I shall content myself with the pleasures of the flesh. A fair promises many a bonny, willing lass.”

      “Aye, and ye were blessed with your mother’s fairness of face and her fine green eyes, so lasses will flock to ye. Go on, but be sure to return in time to meet the lass who journeys to visit with us.”

      “I will. No search is done until all stones are turned.” He winked at his father. “I but pray the lass ye invited doesnae look as if she crawled out from beneath one.”

      Shaking his head, William chuckled. “I think not. Who goes to the fair with ye?”

      “Sir Lesley.”

      “Ah, aye—your friend Lesley.”

      “Do ye tire of his company?”

      “Nay. I like the lad. ’Tis just that he has been here for months. Should he not spend some time at his own family’s keep?”

      “He will, but not for a wee while yet. Lesley and his father havenae healed the breach between them.”

      “It will ne’er be healed if Lesley continues to hide here.”

      “I ken it and so does Lesley. He but needs time to prepare himself.”

      “I can understand that. Who else travels with ye?”

      “My squire, Blane.”

      “No more?”

      “I go to a fair, not a battle.”

      “Be careful nonetheless.”

      “May I go too, Father?” asked Ligulf, William’s slim, fourteen-year-old son.

      Raising his gaze to the ceiling, William sighed. “Go, and quickly, ere your mother changes my mind.”

      Laughing, Ligulf hurried away with Gamel, who wasted no time in preparing to leave. He knew his father suspected Edina might complain, although she would never try to stop Ligulf. Even she admitted to showing a perilous leniency with her children. His haste was in vain, however, for she stepped out of the keep just as they were about to ride out of the bailey. Gamel hid his grin as she handed them a small pack of what she considered to be necessities for any journey.

      Edina looked at the slender Ligulf. “So, ye have decided to travel to the fair with Gamel.”

      “Aye, Mama. ’Twill be my first time.”

      “I ken it,” she drawled as she turned and started back to where William stood. “Just be verra certain that she is clean and healthy.”

      “Mama!”

      Gamel joined his companions in laughing heartily as they rode out of the bailey. Ligulf blushed furiously, color flooding his fair skin. The youth’s blushes were only beginning to fade by the time Duncoille was out of sight.

      “How did she ken it?” Ligulf asked Gamel, and combed his fingers through his dark blond hair.

      “She has been through this before, this change from lad to mon. There was me, then two of our brothers.”

      “Aye.” Ligulf finally laughed. “She is too clever by half.”

      When they reached the small glen where Gamel had chosen to camp for the night, there was little daylight left. The journey had been pleasant and uneventful, but the crude drover’s trail they had used had left them all weary. Gamel was the first to crest the small wooded rise and see that their campsite had already been taken. He paused, his companions doing likewise, and tried to decide what step to take next. They were still fifteen miles or more from Dunkennley and he had no wish to cover the rest of the rough trail in the dark.

      His gaze became fixed upon the maid below who was preparing a meal while two young boys wrestled playfully nearby. There was a sensual grace to her every movement, despite the mundane nature of her work. He had the strongest urge to hurry closer to see her face.

      He was just about to give in to that urge when she and the boys were joined by a man on horseback. His mount careened into the small campsite and reared, tumbling him to the ground. Thinking only to help, Gamel started down the small rise. His companions hesitated only briefly before following him.

      “Farthing!” cried Sine Catriona as she rushed to his side.

      She was only faintly aware of the four armed men who galloped into camp and dismounted. Gripped by fear, she focused all of her attention on Farthing. She knelt and frantically searched for a wound or break upon his tall, lean frame. None of the uninvited company drew his sword or spoke a threat so she continued to ignore them.

      “Farthing, speak to me,” she demanded, her voice tense with concern. “I can find no injury. Can ye not answer me?”

      Farthing hiccoughed.

      Sine Catriona gaped at the prone man, then started to giggle. She was not sure whether it was from relief or a sense of the absurd. As the smirk on Farthing’s flushed face grew wider, her laughter increased. She fleetingly noted that her laughter was echoed by the strangers who had so recently joined them.

      “Ye wretch!” she scolded. “Ye vile fool! I thought ye were dead or broken asunder.”

      “Nay.” Farthing struggled to sit up, hindered slightly by his tangled black cloak. “I have been celebrating.”

      “S’truth? ’Tis a fact I ne’er would have guessed for myself,” she said with her hands on her hips.

      Struggling to fix his obsidian gaze on the four men behind her, he asked, “Who be they?”

      “’Tis a fine time to be asking.” She picked up his black hat and handed it to one of the twins, Barre, to put away. “I dinnae ken. If they were a danger to us, ’tis quite dead we would be by now.” She turned to look at the four men. “If ye meant to offer help ye can see that your kindness was wasted.” She frowned briefly at Farthing. “Howbeit, he may soon be in dire need of aid, for I begin to think that doing him an injury would weel please me.”

      Gamel felt a constriction in his chest as he gazed into her lovely, wide blue eyes. “We meant to offer a hand,” he said, struggling to speak. СКАЧАТЬ