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The Spaniard didn’t smile, but he nodded, then turned about to give instructions to his men.

A light drizzle fell, graying the air, a soft sweet sound against the roof of the longhouse, bringing the mist to hover over the hills and sink slowly down to sit upon the dark waters of the loch. Chessa loved the rain for it stopped as suddenly as it began, bringing forth the sun to shine down upon the lush green. She left the front oak door open so that smoke from the fire pit could escape. The small hole in the roof never allowed enough smoke out at any one time. At least here in Scotland, they didn’t have to worry about freezing.

Not an hour later the drizzle stopped and the sun shone over the loch. Chessa left the longhouse for the privy. She patted the small curve of her belly. “Will I make even more trips to the privy for you when it is winter and cold and snow is blowing off the loch? Does that ever happen? I wonder.”

She was humming softly to herself when she left the privy and walked to the barn where Varrick had sent hay to feed the animals for the winter. It was dark inside and smelled of cow and goat, of closely packed grain and men’s sweat. When the hand came over her mouth and her arms were pinned to her sides, she froze, her first thought: Varrick.

But it wasn’t Varrick. “Don’t move, Chessa. I don’t want to hurt you.”

27

“KEREK,” SHE SAID through his fingers. “I’ve missed you.” He loosened his grip and slowly turned her to face him.

“Aye,” he said, looking down into her face, “I have missed you as well. You’re more beautiful than I’d remembered, Chessa, but you look tired. You’ve had to work too hard. You need more slaves, more families. The farmstead looks sturdy, I doubt outlaws will attack it. I’ve watched you now for three days, waiting to find you alone. There are always so many people about.”

“What do you want, Kerek? Why are you hiding like a thief? This is our new home. Cleve calls it Karelia. We’ve all worked very hard, aye, that’s true enough, but it’s worth the work, for it’s our home. Why didn’t you just come and greet us like a friend?”

He sighed. “I wanted to but I couldn’t. I don’t want this, Chessa, truly, but Turella believes it the only way. She sent me. Ragnor is now king. Olric died from a piece of meat one of his concubines hadn’t chewed well enough. He choked to death with many looking on. It is said that Ragnor tossed a bone in the air once his father had fallen face forward into his plate and said that he wanted his father’s concubines and now they would chew his food.

“He plans to attack Hawkfell Island and take Utta. You might believe this is his boy’s bragging, but I know it isn’t. He will do it. He won’t listen to Turella. He blames his mother for Isla disappearing, and since he doesn’t know where she is, he claims his mother killed her. Thus, he says he will settle for Utta after he’s taken Hawkfell Island. He was mistreated there, he yells to all, thrown into the water to drown, given no respect as the prince of the Danelaw. Now that he’s the king, he will show them. He will kill all of them or make them slaves. He does mean it, Chessa.

“You’ll not credit this but he truly mourns Isla. He talks about her breasts, surely, for he is a man, but he liked the way she treated him, so easily, and yet with the respect due him as the prince of the Danelaw. He liked her eye patch more than anything else, I think. He wanted to remove it to see what was underneath.”

“If he had he would have seen Cleve’s golden eye.”

“Neither Turella nor I told him this woman he desired above all others was really Cleve, come to York to rescue you. Thus, Princess, we are back to you. You are the only one he ever heeded. He fears you, aye, don’t interrupt me, you know it’s true. He would never admit to it, but he does fear you in a strange way that I don’t understand. Turella believes you would hold sway over him where she no longer can. You must come back to York with me. You must take him in hand. You must control him.”

“No, never. He would kill me, Kerek. I would never have control over him. It’s nonsense, all of it. Please, you must stop this now.”

“Turella doesn’t want to have to kill her own son, but to save the Danelaw, she might be forced into it. He thinks only of revenge against Rorik and taking Utta. I think he also plans to kill her. He won’t listen to the advisors about the increasing raids by the Saxons, about the lands they’re conquering, what we’re losing to them. He drinks and complains that the mead isn’t as good as Utta’s or Isla’s. All despair, not just I, not just Turella. A kingdom despairs, Princess. It is your duty to come back, to contain Ragnor, to master him.”

“Let her kill him. I care not. The Danelaw will fall eventually to the Saxons. All know it. It’s just a matter of time. Leave me be, Kerek.”

“Not if you are there, not if you and Turella join together and rule.”

She clasped his arms and tried to shake him. “Look at me, Kerek. I’m but a woman. I bathed in the bathing hut this morning. I just went to the privy. I’m wearing a cloth around my head. I was just kneading bread dough. See, there is flour on my hands. This is our farmstead, this is my life. I have nothing to do with the Danelaw, nothing to do with Turella. I’m not a warrior woman.”

“I will take you to Turella, Chessa. She has commanded me to. I have no choice.”

“I won’t go with you. If you try to force me, you will come to regret it, Kerek, I swear it to you.”

The threat, very real, didn’t have the effect on him she’d expected it to. He smiled hugely. “Ah, you see? I will have to guard you very carefully else you will kill me. It is that passion in you, Chessa, that promise that you’ll do exactly as you say, that utter resolution that is such a deep part of you, that makes you formidable, that will make Ragnor and the Saxons think hard before they attempt to go against you. You’re not stupid either, and you’re willing to act, regardless of the consequences to yourself. Why do you not accept this? Aye, you will come with me and Turella will be pleased and the Danelaw will survive longer.”

She wanted to hit him over the head to make him think clearly. But he was holding her and he was strong. She said again, “I won’t do it.”

Still, he appeared to hold to his patience. “Hear me out. Turella has thought of everything. She believes Cleve will forget you, he will come to believe you dead when he cannot find you. He will mourn you, but how long does a man mourn a woman, any woman? Not that long, Princess. Then he will find another and soon he will be happy again. You won’t have to worry that he will suffer long once you’ve gone. Turella wants you to wed with Ragnor. None will know that it isn’t a true wedding, save Turella, you, and I. She says you’ll agree to it to save Rorik and Mirana and Hawkfell Island. Remember, Chessa, Ragnor now has many warriors to command. They would follow him even though they wouldn’t want to. Loyalty runs deep in Vikings, you know that. He would take Hawkfell Island. He would destroy it. He enjoys destruction, you remember that, don’t you?”

“Aye, I remember, but it makes no difference. Come, Kerek, come back to the farmstead and speak to Cleve of this. We will plan something that will help you and Turella as well as Hawkfell Island. Please, come back with me.”

“Nay,” he said, and there was strength in that one small word and deep resolve, and she knew he wouldn’t change his mind. She drew a deep breath, smiled up at him, and said, “I’m pregnant with Cleve’s child.”

He stared down at her, then threw back his head and laughed. A cow mooed and a goat kicked over a wooden pail. The smell of hay was heavy in the air.

“Cleve laughed as well when I told him,” she said. “But this time it’s true, Kerek. I am pregnant. You can believe me. Cleve and I have been married since midsummer.”

His laughter stopped as suddenly as it began. He splayed his fingers over her belly, felt the slight thickening, and went pale. “No,” he said, “oh, no. We never considered this.” He ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. He clasped her arm and pulled her close, then stared toward the goat. He was deep in thought. “It doesn’t matter,” he said at last. “We will get you back to York as quickly as possible. We will simply tell everyone it’s Ragnor’s child, just like before. Turella will be pleased. She’ll be ecstatic. Don’t you remember? She wanted you to rule and Cleve’s child to rule after you? Aye, all will be well. This is better than either Turella or I expected. Once again you’ve not disappointed me, Princess.”

“I won’t leave Cleve or Kiri,” she said. “Even if you get me to York, I won’t do what you wish me to do, namely wed Ragnor and become Turella’s daughter. I won’t do it.”


Tags: Catherine Coulter Viking Era Historical