33 DRAGONS TO SLAY

A GOLDEN DAWN rose over the sea, greeting Astrid and Finn as they climbed up to the walls together.

Astrid had donned a light woolen cloak, for the air was unseasonably cool for May.

It was early, and the guards on the Watch cast the couple a surprised glance.

"Didn't expect to see ye up so early after yer wedding night, MacDonald," one of them ribbed Finn.

"Aye, well, I'm not one to lie abed," he replied without breaking his stride, his tone dry.

The guard huffed a laugh, while Astrid's cheeks warmed.

Of course, after the spectacle they'd put on for everyone the night before, they'd be the talk of the broch. She'd been so caught up with joy, so enthralled in Finn, that she hadn't noticed or cared how the others reacted.

This morning, however, shyness overcame her.

She'd always been private when it came to personal matters, as had Finn. They'd yet to join Rae and Donalda to break their fast in the chieftain's solar, and she'd have to brace herself for some good-natured teasing from Loch and Jack, and likely hugs from Mairi and Tara. Not that she didn't appreciate them all being happy for her and Finn—only that she squirmed at being focused on so intently.

"Ye'll get used to it, mo chridhe," Finn murmured when they were out of earshot of the guard. "Folk will tire of us after a while." He paused then, flashing her a warm look, his mouth quirking. "And it's good for them to focus on something joyful … after so much bloodshed."

Astrid nodded, her mood sobering as she recalled the fresh graves she'd visited the day before—her first trip out of the broch since the battle—in the kirkyard on the fringes of Dounarwyse village .

There had been so many of them. So many warriors who'd never return home to their wives and bairns. So many hearts broken.

"I've never felt such conflicting emotions," she admitted then. They'd stopped at the farthest edge of the eastern walls and were now gazing across the sea at where the rising sun had turned the water into molten gold. "How is it possible to be so happy, and yet grieve at the same time?"

"Ye've always had a big heart, lass," Finn replied, putting an arm around her shoulders, and allowing Astrid to lean into him. "It's one of the many things I love about ye."

Astrid tilted her chin to meet his eye, favoring him with a soft smile. "It's a relief," she murmured then, "not to fear my own nature any longer. After everything we've been through of late … and the battle … I feel as if I've slayed a dragon."

Finn's mouth quirked. "We all have our dragons to slay." He lifted his hand then, brushing her cheek with his knuckles. "But ye mustn't condemn yerself for despairing last year. Loch did wrong trying to force ye to wed a man against yer will … he nearly broke yer spirit, and he'll always regret it." Finn's expression tightened then. "And I showed ye no pity either at the time … and for that, I'm sorry."

"We were enemies then," she pointed out with a rueful smile. "I would have thrown yer compassion back in yer face."

Finn laughed. "Aye, ye would have … blade-tongued shrew that ye were."

Astrid snorted, digging a playful elbow into his ribs. "Watch yerself, MacDonald."

Still laughing, he drew her close, and, together, they turned and looked out to sea. A companionable silence settled between them. It relaxed Astrid to find that they were both content to be in each other's company without speaking.

However, Astrid spotted something then—a rowboat angling through the gleaming water, heading toward the jetty that thrust out into the water below the broch. "It looks like Dounarwyse has visitors," she murmured, peering at the figures in the boat. "Two of them."

"Aye," Finn murmured, his gaze tracking the rowboat as it approached the jetty.

Presently, the craft reached its destination and one of the figures jumped out and tied the boat to the mooring .

Even from here, Astrid could make out a man and a woman. He was broad-shouldered and powerfully built with a shock of ginger hair, and she was small with long braided dark hair. A wee dog, a terrier, leaped out of the rowboat then, yipping with delight as it capered along the jetty.

A flicker of recognition tickled at Astrid as she peered at the couple. She didn't recognize the woman or the terrier, yet the man seemed familiar.

A moment later, she gasped. "God's blood, Finn … it's Dougie!"

Her husband stiffened against her. "What?" He moved forward, to get a closer look. "Are ye sure?"

"Aye!"

Joy surged through Astrid, beating like the wings of a freed bird. She'd believed all the crew of the Sea Eagle had lost their lives, but at least one hadn't. Somehow, Dougie, the youngest of her escort, had made it to shore.

And now, he'd reached Dounarwyse.

The couple was walking, hand-in-hand, up the slope toward the castle gates.

Finn murmured an oath then. "That's Dougie all right." He cut her a look, his eyes shining. "I don't believe it."

Their gazes fused, and then they both turned from the wall and headed toward the stairs that led back down to the barmkin. "Come, love." Finn caught Astrid's hand as they descended to the barmkin. "Let's give the lad a rousing welcome."