Chapter 9
“IDEMAND THAT you kill this man, this former slave, Cleve who isn’t anybody, he just pretends to be important. He must die. He dared to strike Ragnor of York, son of Olric.”
Rorik looked at Ragnor’s black right eye, the swollen bruised jaw, the reddened flesh of his throat. “Why do you speak of yourself as if you were another?”
“I am of royal blood. Royalty speak like that when they wish others to obey them immediately, just as I’m ordering you, Rorik. Kill him.”
“If everyone was dead that you ordered to be killed, the earth would have no more people on it. You may forget your demands. However, I would think it wise were I to give Cleve your share of mead. It is rotting what little brain you have left.”
“I am Lord Ragnor.”
“Your ship is ready to leave for York,” Rorik said, knowing he didn’t have too much longer to keep himself from attacking Ragnor just as Cleve had done. “I hope you have sufficient men left to row you back.”
“I have more men than I need.”
“That’s good, because I think some of the men won’t go back with you.”
Ragnor just stared at him, then yelled, “Utta, bring me some mead. Kerek, come here and tell me that Rorik lies.”
Rorik just shook his head and quickly took himself out of the longhouse.
He patted Entti’s shoulder as he passed by the bread trough.
He’d rarely in his life seen so much dough.
She was singing softly while she kneaded the dough.
It was a relief that Ragnor was leaving on the morrow.
Rorik feared that the island’s stores of barley, rye, and wheat would be severely depleted.
They were eating more and more fish. Rorik wanted to go hunting on the mainland, beyond the salt marsh, for pheasant and grouse, perhaps even a wild boar, but he didn’t dare leave the island for fear of what Ragnor would do.
Nor did he want to make Ragnor Merrik’s responsibility.
Both his men and Merrik’s men were staying close, keeping a tight watch on Ragnor and his men.
But his belly was growing tired of fish, even Utta’s roasted herring and baked sea bass, even wrapped in oiled and spiced tartar leaves.
He greeted his brother by the palisade gates. “Where are you going, Merrik?”
“Hunting. Aslak and Hafter are going with me as well as another dozen or so men. I knew you wouldn’t wish to leave what with that fool Ragnor about causing trouble.
Also I’m leaving a goodly number of men here.
We’re going in relays. I should have begun this yesterday.
By Thor’s toes, my belly is tired of fish, even though it is wondrously prepared. ”
Rorik had to smile at how much alike he and his brother were. He said, “It’s a good idea, one I was just mulling over. I will allow my men to do the same. By the gods, my muscles are turning soft. Where is Cleve?”
“If Chessa has her way then he’s probably with her.”
Rorik grunted. “Has she obeyed him yet? Has she begun her monthly flow?”
“I don’t know. She’s a stubborn woman.”
In the stand of pine trees at the top of Hawkfell Island, Cleve said, “Does your belly cramp?”
“Why should my belly cramp? Utta makes the best porridge I’ve ever eaten. Even the fish is excellent but I’m getting very tired of it.”
“Your monthly flow, Chessa. Don’t you have belly cramping when you begin your monthly flow?”
“Cleve, perhaps you’d best send a message back to Duke Rollo and this William.
Tell them that I’m not at all a nice fresh young princess.
Tell them that I am still nice and young but I’m no longer fresh.
Tell William that if he weds me I will be able to compare him to another man.
I understand men don’t like that and so that is why they demand that their wives come to them untouched by other manly hands and other manly parts. ”
“Men are not so paltry.”
“It is not my experience. Ragnor seemed wonderful to me at first, then he proved his falseness. You may well ask how I could have been so blind, seeing what an ass he is now. Well, I was.
“Then my father decides I’m to marry a man I’ve never seen, a man already long married, a man you say is seasoned and mature, and then the first man kidnaps me and rapes me, many times.
And now you want to send me to the mature man.
Mature makes him sound dreadfully tiring, Cleve.
Haven’t I suffered enough?” She held her face in her hands and sobbed.
“I’m sorry, Chessa,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “By the gods I feel like a miserable sot.” His arms came around her back, squeezing her against him.
He felt her arms go around his back as well.
He felt her breasts against his chest. He felt the warmth of her breath against his throat.
He leaned over and kissed the top of her head.
“I’m so sorry. It wasn’t your fault. I wish I’d killed Ragnor, the rotten little bastard, despite who he is. Did he hurt you badly?”
She just nodded against his shoulder, saying nothing, the sobs still coming.
“Do you think he hurt you internally?”
“I don’t know. He kicked me hard in the ribs. He told me he liked to see lying me at his feet. He liked to see my pain. Then he fell down on top of me.”
He kissed her again, this incredible girl who believed him more beautiful than the gods, this adorable girl who was a princess and thus far above him. She’d been dreadfully hurt and now all he could do was see that she was hurt even more.
“You must marry William.” He kissed her ear. “Oh, damn, Chessa, you’re a princess. You must marry William, there’s no choice, for either of us.”
“I will consider it if you will send a message to him telling him what has happened.”
“It would take days for the message to reach him and days more for a messenger to return here to Hawkfell.”
“You would prefer then to take me there to face him, for me to tell him what happened, then perhaps see the disdain on his face that said clearly what he thought of me? You aren’t a very kind man, Cleve.”
“Nay, I didn’t mean that,” he said, and squeezed her harder. He kissed her temple, her flesh soft and warm from the sun overhead. “Chessa, you’re promised to him. Your father and Duke Rollo agreed.”
“Everything has changed,” she said, and that, at least, was the truth. She kissed his throat. She raised her hand and lightly touched her fingertips to his mouth. “Cleve, everything has changed,” she said again. “Do you disdain me? Do you hate me now because I’ve been used by Ragnor?”
“By all the gods, no, you stupid woman. You’re you and that would never change.”
“Then why can we not simply—”
“You said you were blind at first with Ragnor. Look at my face, damn you. Look!”
She looked up, staring at him straightly. She cocked her head to one side in question. “I don’t understand you. You’re beautiful. I would never tire of looking at you in my life.”
He couldn’t believe her. She was lying. “Damn you, don’t you see the scar? Are you playing me for a fool? Do you enjoy mocking me? I’m hideous, ugly as a monster, uglier than the dragon stem on Merrik’s warship. Look, Chessa.”
She smiled at him, drew his head down between both her palms and kissed the scar, her mouth soft, too soft, and it touched him so deeply he didn’t know whether to shove her away or kiss her until neither of them could breathe.
Then she said, “You attacked Ragnor for what he did to me. If you would show me the man who did this to you I would attack him and kill him.”
He stared down at her, stunned and disbelieving. He said slowly, “It wasn’t a man.”
“A woman struck you?”
“Aye.”
“At least that was all she did. You’re alive and you’re here with me.”
“Not for very long. Once you begin your monthly flow, we must return to Rouen.”
She was silent then, still held in his arms. The sun was bright and warm overhead. Oystercatchers flew over the fallow barley field. Just behind them flew a glittering trio of dunlin. Sea gulls squawked loudly. Curlews spun wildly through the pine and fir trees behind them.
“You sound as if perhaps you don’t want me to wed with William. You are holding me. Perhaps you want to wed me yourself.”
“No,” he said, “I don’t.” He leaned down and this time she raised her face and he kissed her mouth.
By the gods, she was soft, giving. He wanted to devour her, but he held himself back.
He shouldn’t be touching her, much less kissing her as if she belonged to him.
“No,” he said, and broke away from her. “No, I don’t want you.
I will never want another woman for the rest of my life, that is, I would want a woman to ease me, but not a wife, not a mate.
I have Kiri and I will see that she grows strong.
I will see that she has no guile, no cunning, to bring a man low. ”
She stood there panting slightly, her breasts heaving, and his eyes were drawn there, and he could but stare at her breasts, and he wanted desperately to feel her breasts in his hands, to taste her with his mouth.
“Go away, Chessa. No, you won’t, will you?
Very well, I’ll go. I don’t know what game you’re playing.
All women play games to make men flounder about like the sea bass I caught yesterday.
It doesn’t matter. You will begin your monthly flow and I will be safe from you.
You will be safe from yourself. You will see me as I really am.
You will recognize my ugliness. You will wed William. ”
Without another word, he turned on his heel and nearly ran back toward the longhouse.
“He does want me,” she said to a pinwheel performing intricate turns above her head. “Aye, he does want me.”
Mirana said to Chessa, “Kiri has asked me how you can be a princess since you don’t have beautiful golden hair and bright blue eyes like she does. She doesn’t think you look like a real princess at all. Nor,” Mirana added, “does she like you looking at her papa the way you do.”