Part 2
915 Words
TWO
"You fought well today, and you have a knack for commanding men. I know several men owe you their lives after today, for it was your quick thinking in the heat of battle that saved them."
Rudolf's chest puffed at Angus's praise.
Angus continued, "You'll need new armour soon. You're not a boy any more, and your shoulders are too wide for that breastplate. Where there's gaps, an arrow will find them," Angus said, throwing the reins of his horse to a groom.
Rudolf did the same, but he lingered to stroke Hector's side as he was led off. He'd never owned a finer horse. Not back in Viken, or since he arrived here. How many years had it been now? At least six. Maybe seven.
"You like him, don't you? See, I told Lewis he couldn't sell him off the islands. Valuable breeding stock, he'll be, when you're not riding him."
Rudolf remembered his manners. "Thank you again, Lord Angus. He's a princely gift indeed."
Angus waved away his thanks. "No more than you deserve. My own father gave me my first warhorse when I reached manhood. My first ride, the bastard reared up and threw me on my arse. My brother laughed himself sick. You have a much better seat than did at your age. Better than Portia, though better not tell her I said that."
Rudolf laughed. "No, I won't, as long as you know that's what I'll be thinking about when I'm staring at her bottom next time we go riding."
"Man your age should be looking for a wife. I know I was. Or will your father be sending one from Viken?"
Viken? Why would he send a girl after him? This was home. Rudolf would likely never see Viken again. "Viken girls choose their husbands, just like the ones here," Rudolf managed to say. "I left no sweetheart behind me, so no girl will be coming to find me."
An explosion of red blasted through the door to the longhouse. "There they are! I found them," Portia cried, tossing her hair off her face. She'd forgotten her shoes again, and with no Nurse to remind her any more, she'd probably been wearing holes in her stockings the whole time they'd been away.
"I brought you a gift," Rudolf said, pulling the feather from under his breastplate. He'd kept it in the pocket over his heart. "At the end of the battle, when those rank cowards were running away, a golden eagle circled the field and dropped it. Landed right at my feet. I thought you might like a new quill."
Portia dashed up to him and plucked the feather from his hand. Then she threw her arms around him and hugged him. Rudolf laughed as he returned her hug, conscious of Angus's thoughtful eyes on him.
Angus was planning something, to be sure.
"Can we go riding now?" Portia demanded. The woman-child had all the impatience of a child, while her body grew more and more into a woman's form.
Rudolf laughed again. "I have been riding all day, and Hector, too. I am starving. I hope you have a good dinner ordered."
Portia would not be put off. "Tomorrow, then? If we leave early, we might be able to make it up to Loch Findlugan, and search for its secret. While you were away, I went through Mother's things and found a scroll about the history of Isla. It said the standing stones – "
Angus interrupted, "Tomorrow, Rudolf needs to be measured for new armour. He's outgrown his."
Portia laughed. "Must be all the food he eats. And people call me and my sisters pigs!" This earned Rudolf a glare.
Rudolf hung his head. The tale of him finding the three little sisters, wallowing in the mud like pigs, had spread rapidly through the Southern Isles, as all good stories did. Even if seven years had passed since that day, Portia still had not forgiven him. She might never.
He glanced at Angus. "I'm sure I won't be needed all day for new armour. There will be time for a ride tomorrow. Perhaps not to Loch Findlugan, but we can take the horses for a ride on the beach."
Portia enveloped him in another hug, tighter and longer than the first. "I love you, Dolf!"
Rudolf patted her back awkwardly, his eyes offering an apology to Angus.
Angus nodded, unconcerned. "Enough talk of tomorrow. I'm famished. I fancy a fine leg of mutton for dinner, and I'm sure Rudolf does, too. Release your prisoner, Portia." He headed inside.
Portia let go, then tucked her hand into Rudolf's. "I'll release you on one condition. You must tell me all about the battle over dinner. How many men you killed, whether you were close enough to hear their last words...or did you shoot them with your bow?"
She was the same age as he'd been when he arrived on Isla, Rudolf realised, and just as bloodthirsty. "I did not use my bow this time. Angus had archers enough."
"I want my own bow. Viken women sometimes go to war with their men, you said. I could be one of the archers and kill those cowardly, thieving Albans before they could step ashore!"
Rudolf laughed. "Are you strong enough to draw a bow yet?"
Portia pouted. "No."
"When you are full grown, like me, you may practice with mine. If you can hit the target, I promise you I will see that you have your own bow."
Her eyes lit with the fire that seemed to burn without cease within her. "Really?"
Rudolf could refuse her nothing. He prayed that Angus would agree. "Really."
- Writer
