Jack Whyte - The Saxon Shore

As I reached her side, Shelagh reached out and drew my arm through hers, hugging it close so that I felt the cushioned softness of her breast against my elbow. She spoke no word, merely gazing, rapt, towards the distant spectacle.

"Feargus and Logan, certainly," I said. "And Connor, I would guess, but who is the other?"

"Brander," she replied.

"Brander? Come to Britain without his fleet? That makes no sense. Why would he come here alone?"

She looked up at me, as if to see whether or not I was making fun of her. "Alone? Brander goes nowhere alone. See yonder."

I looked where she pointed and saw nothing, but then my eyes adjusted to the distance and searched even farther and I felt my stomach turn over. All along the line of the horizon to the northwest the straightness of the sharp-lined join of sea and sky was marred by tiny imperfections which revealed themselves immediately as the shapes of distant vessels, score upon score of them, ten miles and more from shore.

"Sweet Jesus!" I breathed. "How many are there?"

Shelagh looked, without great interest. "Five or six score. Brander must be returning home to the northern isles. That means the war is won, for better or for worse. His galleys will be needed in the north."

"Won?" Even asking the question, I had to smile at her sanguinity, though I was grateful she remained unaware of my smile since the alternative to her assessment could not be thought of as amusing in any way.

"Aye, won or being won. Were it not won, there would be no livestock to bring over here, and Brander would not be sailing back to the north."

"Aye, I suppose . . . But—"

"But what?" She was looking at me now, gazing up at me with those hawk's eyes of hers.

"Shelagh, I thought I heard King Athol say the animals were to be removed for their protection. If the war is won, they would need no such protection. They would be safe."

"Aye, safe, but hungry." She clutched my hand now in her own right hand, keeping her left arm clamped close upon my forearm, so that when she pulled my hand towards her, my curling fingers came to rest between her breasts. I knew she had no thought in her of what she did or of what it did to me, so I gave no sign of being aware of what I touched.

"Before this war was thought upon, our biggest pains were overgrazing, Cay. We lack the space to feed our beasts, and our people grow more numerous all the time. That's why the king wished my father to bring the kine to Britain, with your assistance and permission. Here, in these open grasslands, they will thrive and prosper, grow and breed. In a few short years, we can transport them to the north and raise them there in safety. But not yet. Now they are come here, in safety. And escorted by Brander's whole fleet, ensuring safe passage. Such is their value, these animals of ours. Goats and swine and sheep and cattle. They mean prosperity and ongoing security for our folk. So I say the war is won. You wait, you'll see. Would you dare to wager with me?"

I smiled and shook my head. "No. A man would be a fool to wager against you, Lady."

"Hah! You think so? I see you are a man of wisdom." She broke off, frowning. "What's wrong? What are you thinking?"

I shook my head, but she would have none of it, insisting on an answer.

"Donuil," I muttered, eventually, hating to have the thought wrung from my unwilling mind that he might have died in the war.

"What of him?" She was smiling up at me. "Surely you are not jealous of his coming?"

"No," I said, refusing to be teased. "But what will you do if he is not aboard those galleys?"

She laughed gaily. "Then I shall marry you and be queen over Camulod."

Her levity shocked me profoundly. "Shelagh!" I gasped, feeling my face constrict with disapproval.

She became immediately contrite and pulled me down to where she could kiss my cheek and bathe me in the perfume of her hair. "Och, Cay," she said into my ear. "Do you take me for a foolish woman or a callous wretch? Of course he is there! Look at Logan's galley, at the mast, the cross spar. What's there?"

I looked and gasped again. "A hanging man!"

"Aye, but a hanging wooden man! Yon is my throwing target, brought for me by Logan, who made it for me when I was a lass. I made him promise to bring it to me here, and also that if all was well, he would suspend it from the spar where I could see it long before they came to land. Were it not there, I should have known my husband was not coming and would then have had time to prepare myself before they made landfall."

I was looking at her now with more respect than I had ever felt for her before. "When did you arrange that?"

"In Glevum, when we landed. You seized Feargus by the arm and wandered off to whisper with him, trading secret things. While you were gone, I had words of my own with Logan, who has been like another father to me since I was a babe. He it was who taught me how to throw a knife with consistency, you know. I had talent, and a true eye, but he showed me the knack of throwing true time after time. And one winter, he carved out a target man for me from a great log, and bound its breast in leather armour. I called it Mungo, out of dislike for Mungo Rohan who was even then a great black pig. Now it seems right that a hanging Mungo should announce my husband's safe return, do you not think so?"

I had been watching the galleys below as she spoke. They had come about and were now sailing swiftly to the left of us, southward, Brander's huge craft veering across the wakes of the other vessels to take up a station to seaward.

"Look at that! Where are they going now?"

"Southward, to where I shall find them, eight leagues south of Glevum."

Again she had surprised me. "How can you know that?"

She shrugged, gesturing with one hand to where the ships moved below. "Because it was so arranged. There is broad grassland there, and a banked shoreline, where the galleys can unload. Feargus and Logan found the spot the first time they came here in search of Donuil. They could not land at Glevum, you'll recall, because the other, alien vessel was there when they arrived, stealing the coloured stone, the marble. Eight leagues, Lagan told me. How far are we from Glevum now?"

"No more than five miles. Under two leagues."

"Then we have six to travel. I had best collect my father and be on my way. We will meet again when you return from Cambria."

"But—"

"But what, Merlyn Britannicus? Your men await you in Glevum and your duty is clear. You must avenge your people soon, before the weather robs you of the chance to find your stolen horses."

"Damnation, Shelagh! I can't simply leave you here. I'll take you to Donuil."

Now she swung to face me, real surprise and concern in her face. "What nonsense is this? You were to leave me at Glevum! That would have left me with eight leagues to ride, instead of six. My father and I will be in no danger. We'll meet the others before you have time to lead your troops out of the town."

"But I want to see Donuil!"

She flashed a grin at me. "So do I! And so you shall, when you return. But in the meantime, my need is greater than yours, and I have no desire to spend the night waiting for Donuil to finish talking with you before he beds me.

"I would not deprive you in such a way, Shelagh."

Her grin became a laugh. "Not willingly, not intentionally, but you would; or he would. No, you may not come."

"But what about Brander? I would like to meet him."

"Brander won't land. He, too, has people awaiting his return. Look you there, already he veers off, his charges safely brought to shore."

Sure enough, Brander's distant galley was turning again, pointing its dragon beak towards the north and west.

"Connor, then. He will be there."

"He will, and will remain until you return. Come you here." She caught me by the chin strap of my helmet and pulled my face down towards her, and then she kissed me as she never had before, a long, sweet, aching kiss that filled my breast with joy and yearning, yet strangely stirred no passion in my loins, since I knew of its intent.