Page 26 of Lord of Falcon Ridge (Viking Era 4)

What was she thinking?

He remembered her joy when she saw him, when she realized he wasn’t a ghost or some sort of chimera, but he was himself, Cleve of Malverne, and he was here on Hawkfell Island. She’d run to him, her arms open and she’d kissed him and spoken so freely to him. He’d wanted to feel her mouth on his, but he’d known he couldn’t and had turned his face away.

He turned slightly, careful not to put his weight on Kiri, who was sleeping as deeply as only a child could sleep. Cleve wondered if she was dreaming, and if so, what her five years could conjure up for a night tale. She sighed and he hugged her, bending his head slightly to kiss the top of her golden head.

He saw Chessa’s face clearly the moment she realized this small girl was his daughter. She’d looked from one to the other, for Cleve was holding his daughter and she was staring candidly back at Chessa. Chessa said at last, smiling at Kiri, “You look just like your father. You will be more beautiful than any woman on the earth.”

“Really?” Kiri had said. “I’m as beautiful as my papa?”

“Aye, you are, I swear it.”

Kiri said then, “You aren’t nearly as beautiful as my papa, but you are honest and your eyes see well.”

Cleve laughed, tossed his daughter into the air, then caught her in his arms again. She was shrieking, and he tossed her up again. “You’re shameless, Kiri. The princess will believe you conceited and thus your beauty will be lessened, just as a cupped hand over a lit candle dims the light.” But he kissed her eyebrows and hugged her hard against him until she squeaked.

“But she said I looked just like you, Papa.”

“Aye, Cleve,” Rorik said. “Don’t argue with your babe.”

Kiri held out her arms to Rorik, who took her, hugged her, then kissed her. He breathed in the scent of her flesh. “You smell just like Aglida. Now, Chessa, do you think my little daughter is also beautiful? Will she be the second most beautiful woman on earth when she grows up?”

Ragnor walked up to them, trying to swagger, but he only managed to look a bit drunk, his walk crooked. “What is all this stupidity? This is a little girl child. She is of no account at all. Why do you speak of her becoming beautiful someday? Someday, we will be old or dead and her future beauty doesn’t matter. Come along, Chessa, I would speak to you. You are to be my wife and you must begin to be submissive to me now. Come.”

Chessa sighed as she turned to Ragnor. “Go away,” she said only.

He looked shocked. “You would tell me to leave you? You don’t wish to hear my words in private? You want all to hear what must be said?”

“Go away, Ragnor. I don’t care what you say. You have been drinking Utta’s mead, haven’t you?”

“Nay, not yet. Kerek said my head must be clear and thus it would follow that I would reason well and my tongue would speak fluently. Come along or all will know what I must say.”

Kerek nodded slightly to Ragnor. He was surprised. The man had managed to gain everyone’s attention. All were closing about them now. All were listening.

“It matters not,” Chessa said. “Nothing about you matters. Your warship is ready. Leave Hawkfell Island. No one wants you here. I do wonder how many of your men will return with you.”

“That is another matter entirely and doesn’t concern you. You’re naught but a woman and know nothing of importance.” Ragnor stopped, hearing Kerek gently clear his throat. He cleared his own then and waited a moment before he said again, “You must come with me. This is important and it is private. Very private.”

“Out with it, Ragnor,” Rorik said. “Chessa doesn’t care, so say what you will say.”

“She can’t marry William of Normandy.”

Cleve said easily, “Naturally she can. She will marry William. She must marry William. It is done. The only reason you still live is because you will become the King of the Danelaw. Don’t push the limits of our patience.”

Chessa just looked at Cleve and he knew in that moment that she would fight it, that she would refuse to wed William, and then what in the name of the gods would he do? He would lose faith with Rollo, he would lose faith with Sitric. And what would happen to Chessa?

Ragnor said with all the pride of a Viking raider who’d just plundered an abbey, “The princess can’t marry William of Normandy because I’ve already bedded her. I’ve taken her many times. She isn’t a virgin. She could be carrying my babe, the future ruler of the Danelaw. Aye, the future ruler but only after I’ve been king for a very long time.”

There was pandemonium.

; Kerek lowered his head to hide his grudging smile. Ragnor had done well. It never ceased to amaze him how Ragnor could play the dignified man, logical and fluent. He waited to see how the princess would react. He looked up to see her staring blankly at Ragnor, her mouth opening. He prepared himself for her yells, her passionate denials. He prepared himself to lie. It was for the best. He had no choice.

Suddenly, she closed her mouth and said, innocence radiating from her as soft light from a rush lamp, “But what difference does that make, my lord? So you raped me many times? I hated it as I hate you, for you were nothing but a clod and cruel and selfish, but who would care about that?”

Ragnor looked like a fish tossed onto shore, his mouth gaping open, then closing. He looked as if he were suffocating. He just stared at her. Kerek said quickly, “Princess, it matters not. There is no shame for you, none at all. You simply must realize that Lord William of Normandy can no longer accept you as his wife. A man of power must have a virgin bride.”

“I see,” Chessa said slowly. “But not really. Ragnor raped me. I didn’t welcome him to my bed. He gave me no choice in the matter. Am I not to have William because this little worm forced me so many times?”