But Kerek stepped back. “You are a princess. It isn’t right.”
“Let me tell you just how much a real princess I am,” she said, but was interrupted by one of Ragnor’s men who came forward and said to Rorik, “Ragnor cannot swim, my lord. Should one of us save him?”
Rorik could only stare at the man. Then he threw back his head and laughed deeply, turning only when they heard yells from Ragnor, who was clutching one of the slimy wooden supports beneath the dock.
Hafter said, “It took only two days for our people to show Ragnor’s warriors that any life is better than the one they live under that little bastard’s thumb.”
“Aye, Arek,” Rorik said on a sigh. “Save him, though it pains me to tell you to do so. He is the future king of the Danelaw and thus we have no choice but to keep him alive. Even Ragnor is preferable to rule by the Saxons.”
“The Saxons aren’t beginning to seem so bad, Rorik,” Hafter said.
Old Alna cackled by way of an answer, for she hadn’t heard the question, her hearing now wandering away from her as much as her mind. The lovely captain Torric was drinking one of her potions that she’d sweetened with honey and ground-up almonds. Actually it was one of Utta’s potions, for Old Alna’s eyes were too blurred to tell most ingredients apart. “You’ll be seeing Valkyries soon,” she said, and the captain sighed, “but not real ones, just Valkyries I’ll conjure up for you with my potion.”
“I see several now. Who is that beautiful Valkyrie giving her breast to the babe?”
“Eh? Ah, that’s Entti. Look not too interested, Captain, else her husband Hafter just might gullet you and my sweet lady’s nursing of you would all be for naught. Hafter is possessive of Entti.”
“She has a beautiful breast,” Torric said, and drank down some more of Old Alna’s potion.
“The other one is just the same.”
“Aye, ’tis probably true. Will I see it?”
“She’s not showing it to you, Torric. She’s feeding Verad, greedy little stoat, and being modest about it. It’s just that Mirana has moved to stir the huge pot of stew and thus you can see clearly. You’d best keep your eyes on my face. That will give you incredible dreams of beauty.”
Captain Torric groaned at that. Old Alna cackled. “I was once that beautiful, my breasts that full and round.”
Captain Torric groaned again and closed his eyes for Mirana had moved again to stand in front of Entti. “What is happening with Lord Ragnor?”
“My master hasn’t killed the ass yet, if that’s what you’re asking me, Captain. Aye, my lad, finish the potion. Before you sleep, you’ll believe me beautiful. You’ll want to wed with me. You’ll want to bed me.”
Torric moaned again, stared at the potion as if it had become poison. But he drank it down nonetheless for his leg pained him a great deal. “I’m glad Rorik hasn’t killed him. King Olric placed both Kerek and me in charge of his safety, but it is difficult, for Ragnor is difficult, nay, more than difficult. He swaggers and boasts and all want to kick his teeth down his throat. But it’s odd, you know. When he decides to play a man with wit and charm, even a man who’s brave, a man who feels compassion for others, he can actually do it. Kerek told me that was how he first won the princess’s heart. I can’t imagine any man fooling her, but he did it. He dished himself up to her as a generous, kind man who adored her. Ah, but then he showed his true colors. They’re not pleasant colo
rs, at least never around me and the other men.” He sighed, wishing he had more potion. He was feeling sweet and soft in his belly. He no longer felt his broken leg. He didn’t even feel his tongue.
“I don’t know what to do. Kerek wants the Princess Chessa to marry him. He’s convinced that she will make a better man of him.”
“It would be a wager I wouldn’t take,” Old Alna said. “The gods know she has little enough to start with. A man can’t be molded as can a loaf of bread.”
“Less than little enough to start with,” Torric said, and tried to shift his weight. He felt as if he were floating, his head light, his body thrumming with the pleasure of no pain. He could sell casks of the potion. He could become a wealthy man. “What was in that drink?”
Old Alna cackled.
Mirana said over Old Alna’s shoulder, “How do you feel, Captain?”
“Another Valkyrie,” he said. “Are your breasts as beautiful as Entti’s?” He smiled vaguely, then sighed himself into a stupor.
“He just saw one of Entti’s breasts, for little Verad was suckling hard. He’s a lovely man, this captain. I remember once when I was even younger than you, Mirana, when I became lost and this fierce man found me and—”
Mirana smiled as Old Alna continued to tell her of a long-ago adventure with a man she’d never seen before but who was, she claimed, the best lover she’d ever had.
Soon Old Alna was sleeping too, huddled next to the captain. Mirana covered both of them, wondering as she did so if Alna had also drunk of the potion.
Kerzog bounded up to her just as she was turning back to the fire pit. “No, don’t do it, you brute,” she yelled at him, but it did no good. He was happy to see her, full of energy after being penned up during the long storm. His run on the beach hadn’t been enough for him. He knocked her down and held her there, licking her face. She tried to cover herself with her hands, but Kerzog was used to that ploy and was butting his head beneath her hands, licking her all the harder. “Rorik,” she yelled. “Help me.”
Rorik was laughing, as was Chessa behind him. “Good dog,” Chessa said, and leaned down to hug Kerzog.
“You’ll be sorry you did that,” Rorik said, but it was too late. Kerzog, a lover of women, released Mirana, eyed Chessa, who looked remarkably like his mistress, even smelled a bit like his mistress, and leapt against her, his two front paws on her shoulders. She stumbled but managed to keep upright. She was laughing, hugging the huge dog, then pulling on his ears.