She was right, but Laren said only, “I’m sorry, Caylis, but believe me, I did not kill him. I can do nothing about my presence here, for Merrik controls that.”
“Aye, but Caylis is right,” Megot said. “Because you came we will become as nothing. Perhaps Merrik will even give us to his men to be used at their whim. I pray that Merrik will make us his mistresses, but I know that he now takes only you to his bed. I heard him and Erik once speaking of such things and Erik said Merrik was stupid to want what their parents had shared. He told Merrik that he would come to understand his wish was as flimsy as a dream once he had wedded Letta. He said Merrik would leave her soon enough and search out other women to bed.”
All of this in front of Sarla, Laren thought. She supposed it was much the same amongst her own people, but she’d been too young to notice such things. There was no expression on Sarla’s face. None at all. Laren chanced to look at Cleve. She went very still. He was staring at Sarla, the look on his scarred face so tender, so very helpless, that she wanted to cry.
There came a cry from outside the longhouse, then there was shouting and loud arguing. Then there was utter silence. Gradually they could hear the voices resume, heard the low rumblings of arguments, but controlled now. Then they heard Merrik’s voice but they couldn’t understand his words. Other voices were raised in question.
“What is it?” Sarla said, and rushed toward the doorway.
Oleg appeared in the entrance. He looked at each of them until he found Laren. He said quietly, “You’d best come now, Laren. Merrik has reached a decision and all will abide by it.”
16
MERRIK WATCHED HER walk to him, Oleg at her side, Sarla on her other side. He waited until she was standing before him, then said very quietly, “You will come with me now.”
He took her hand and led her away. She heard the men’s voices, some clearly angry, others simply questioning. Then she heard Oleg say loudly, “It is right and just. Merrik is the lord of Malverne now. We will all heed his wishes.”
What wishes?
He continued silent until they had walked down the wide path to the fjord. He motioned to the pier. They walked out to the end and he pulled her down beside him, their feet dangling over the end of the pier. The water below was a calm light blue. She could see small ripples created by fish swimming just below the surface.
The sun was bright overhead, the air soft and very warm. She couldn’t imagine snow covering everything. A cloud slid in front of the sun, but just for a moment. She waited silent.
“You have two choices,” he said at last.
She cocked her head to one side, staring now at his profile. Still he didn’t turn to face her.
“You will wed with me and remain here at Malverne.” He turned to face her as he spoke. “Why do you look so surprised? Why do you shudder? Very well, then. If being my wife displeases you so very much, why, then, you can select the second choice. I will see that you are returned to your family. However, Taby will remain with me. I am making him my son.”
“No!”
“No what?”
She just stared at him, shaking her head back and forth. He supposed he was pleased that for once he’d taken her utterly aback, but more than that, now he wanted her to tell him that she wanted to wed with him, that she—
“I cannot wed you.”
“Oh? You cannot or you will not?”
“I cannot.”
“Are you already married? I don’t think it was Thrasco who was the hopeful husband, was it? Or perhaps before you were a slave you were married off as a child?”
“No, no, nothing like that.”
“No, of course
you weren’t married. You were very much a virgin when I took you. Ah, I see. I am too beneath you to consider as a husband.”
“No, never.”
“More puzzles, more mysteries. Very well, Laren. Don’t forget you are my slave. Regardless of what you were before, now you are nothing more than a slave, one that many of my people believe also a murderess. I offer you the moon and the stars—at least that’s how a slave would see wedding the master of a large holding such as Malverne.”
She jumped to her feet and stared down at him. “You cannot keep Taby.”
“I can and I fully intend to.” He rose now, more slowly, to face her. He took her upper arms in his big hands. “Will you marry me or no?”
She looked into the fjord and saw a school of herring racing through the water, very close to the smooth surface, leaping above, like darts of silver. She felt she could reach into the water and catch one, so close they were. She looked up at him now. She wanted to smooth the frown from his forehead, as she said very calmly, “I cannot marry you because I was promised to Askhold, heir of Rognvald, king of the Danelaw.”