Chapter 18 #2
Cleve was red-faced, the cords in his neck pulsing madly. “You told Rorik I took you five times? Five times? Five separate times? And you asked him if it was enough? You asked him if men never tired?”
She looked down at her shoes. She gave him a furtive look, all shy and flustered. “Aye,” she said in a small little voice, scuffing the toe of her slipper into the dirt.
“Damn you, Chessa, stop it. I don’t believe your act for an instant. Look me in the eyes and stop the smiling you’re doing inside.”
“All right.” She grinned up at him shamelessly. “I thought Lord Rorik would drop his jaw on the ground. He wanted to question me to make sure I knew what five times really meant. He kept saying, Were they separate times, with time in between? It was very important to him that I understood.”
Cleve could still see Rorik’s face in his mind’s eyes, staring at him, marveling at him, wondering if he could have that extraordinary stamina.
He sighed, saying, “What a day it’s been.
It’s all the men can talk about. Surely you didn’t think Rorik would keep such a bit of wickedness to himself, did you?
No, of course you didn’t.” Cleve sighed, plowed his fingers through his golden hair, loosening several strands to frame his face, and said, “I mauled you and then I fell asleep. That’s the truth of things and—”
“And what, Cleve? I’m pleased that you desired me so very much that you couldn’t slow yourself. I can’t believe you told the men you’d failed me. That’s ridiculous. You didn’t hurt me overly. I look forward to this evening.”
He wanted to shake some sense into her. Instead, he growled at her just like Kerzog when someone was trying to pull a stick out of his mouth, turned on his heel and strode away.
Laren came over to her and held out an apple. “Here, chew whilst I tell you about men.”
Chessa took a big bite.
“Men,” Laren said, staring after Cleve, who was nearly running out of the palisade gates, “can’t bear it if women take away something they consider to belong to them.”
“Men consider mating to be theirs?”
“Oh, yes. It involves their prowess, you see. Even more than that, it is how they see themselves, it is the very core of what they are. They must see themselves as the masters in this. It is they who decide how the act is to be done properly, and this is based on certain rules they’ve developed from father to son over the years.
Women are never to talk openly about such things. ”
“What rules?”
“A man such as Cleve is thoughtful, slow to temper, a man of thorough habits. Since I overheard what you said, why then, he feels as though he failed not just you, but himself, and all men. He’s ashamed.
However, what you said to Rorik was excellent.
All the men now consider Cleve near to a god’s throne.
I’ve heard ‘five times’ more than I ever wish to hear two words again in my life.
Actually ‘five separate times.’ And that embarrasses him even more because, Chessa, you made it up to hide what he views as his failure.
You, a mere woman, are trying to protect him, to save him from humiliation. He can’t bear that.”
“By all the gods,” Chessa said, tossing the apple core onto a refuse pile, “that’s ridiculous. There are two of us, not just Cleve doing things according to some sequence. I’m half of this business, aren’t I?”
Laren hugged her. “Aye. The women are all delighted at what you’ve done. You’ve made them laugh at how easily you drew the men’s manly noses into your drama. Perhaps Kerek was right.”
“Right about what?”
Laren just shrugged. “Perhaps I can picture you in an open wagon, hundreds of men following your orders. Perhaps I can see you as the woman warrior Boadicea, the queen of the Iceni. You think, Chessa, and you act. Whether or not you see things clearly—well, it doesn’t matter.
You can’t be right all of the time. The point is, you don’t dither.
You act. I like that. Cleve does too, just not now when his man’s feelings are raw. Will you handle him tonight?”
“Oh, yes,” Chessa said. “Mirana wants me to search out some plover eggs. I’m taking Kiri. She and I must decide how we’re going to divide up her first papa at night. She’s very smart, you know, Laren. It’s difficult to keep a step ahead of her. I must ask her about Kerzog too.”
“I agree. Too, since Kiri isn’t a man, you will come to agreement very quickly, I doubt it not. What’s this about Kerzog?”
“I don’t know. As you said, Kiri’s a female. Already, she loves mysteries.”
That night after all had eaten roasted herring, rye bread dripping with hot fat from the baked pheasant, and stewed onions and cabbage, and drunk Utta’s mead, Laren stood and cleared her throat.
In an instant of time, all were turned to her, leaning toward her, waiting expectantly.
Even Kerzog looked alert, which was something, Chessa thought, since he’d eaten more than three starving men.
“I have a story to tell you,” Laren said.
There were cheers and all sat forward even more, the longhouse completely silent. All anticipation.
“This is a story about a man beyond any man, a man who didn’t want it known that he had powers no other man could claim.
He was calm and thoughtful, never loud or boisterous.
He was looked upon as a kind man, a man who was a good friend, but surely, not a man who could claim such powers, such endurance.
“It came to pass that this man married a woman of extraordinary lineage. He hadn’t wanted to, but she was strong and sure of what she was and what she wanted, and thus it was done.
That first night of their union he took her to his bed and mated with her five times before the dawn sent the shadows into mists of the sunlight. ”
“Stop this, Laren,” Hafter yelled, tossing down his mead. “I don’t believe it. I have never taken Entti more than three times in a night.”
“It couldn’t be five separate times,” Rorik said. “That isn’t possible. Chessa just doesn’t know how to count things like that properly. She’s mistaken, that’s all. By all the gods’ beards, she was a virgin. How could she know how to figure out anything at all?”
“Yes, I do know,” Chessa called out. “Cleve explained it all to me before we began. He said he would give me more pleasure than any woman had ever had before. He wanted me to be able to compare my pleasure last night with my pleasure in the future. He said he knew I was innocent and thus I might be sore if he was too enthusiastic, thus he said he would go very gently with me until I became more used to him.”
“Cleve lied to her!” Merrik shouted. “He’s very nearly my brother, yet he can lie as well as I can. He learned to lie from me. Don’t believe any of it.”
“I understand now,” Hafter said. “Chessa didn’t drain Cleve the way Entti drains me.
She caresses and kisses me and fondles me and then forces me to do that to her.
It takes a lot of time, for she is a stern taskmaster.
Thus, I’ve never been given the chance to reach my full potential.
Whereas Chessa, an innocent despite the number of times she’s been pregnant, knows nothing about the act, and thus Cleve simply kissed her and took her.
Mayhap he didn’t even kiss her. There was nothing to it, no soft words, no caressing, nothing that took any time at all.
He did it quickly, then rested himself only to do it quickly again. Any man here could do that.”
Laren raised her hands. “Enough now, this is just a tale, a simple tale for your enjoyment.”
Merrik said, “Are you certain you wish to proceed, wife? You’re treading where the gods wouldn’t be seen.”
She nodded, grinning down at her hands. “Five times he loved her and each time was wondrous because this man was a fine lover, giving her all his skill and his caring and speaking soft words to her, telling her how beautiful she was, how she moved him, how her flesh felt to his fingers, to his mouth. He made her pleasure exquisite because he knew that a man’s responsibility was first to his wife.
He was a husband that every woman dreams of having.
Ah, and he was so gentle with her since she was unused to a man.
Each of those five different and separate times left both of them lying in a brief stupor, sated, happy, yet eager for more after but a short time had passed.
“The following day left all the men slack-jawed when they found out how he’d treated his new wife.
He, naturally, didn’t say anything, because he wasn’t the kind of man who bragged and carried on about his own greatness.
Indeed, he probably believed it just a normal way of things.
But his innocent wife spoke of it and why not?
She thought that was simply the way things were done as well.
The men couldn’t believe it. They couldn’t accept it because none of them had ever managed to achieve such a superior number and done in such a perfect way.
“They didn’t know what to do. Before, they’d all admired him, liked him, called him friend, but now?
They looked at him now and saw a man who was more than they.
A man who had reached heights other men only dreamed of.
And surely men are always dreaming of heights.
It is their nature to do so. What should they do?
My lord Merrik—my mate, a brave warrior, a man whose choler comes swiftly to the fore then recedes after he’s made the earth shake with his wrath, a man who gives me—”
“Be quiet, Laren,” Merrik said very slowly, very precisely, his eyes burning with a desire to strangle her. “Be quiet or it won’t go well for you.”
“Very well, my lord. I got carried away, actually only the skald part got away, but both of us are back again. Forgive me. I’d always believed you the most perfect of men, the very .
. . well, forget about that. Things are different now, what with Cleve’s skills and .
. . nay, forget that as well. My lord, please tell us what do you think the men should do. ”
Merrik roared to his feet. “Enough of this, Laren. You’re causing mischief and we won’t have it.” He turned to the men, who were all speaking amongst themselves, tempers rising, and he bellowed, “I don’t want to hear more of this, do any of you? It’s nonsense, she’s baiting us and—”
Rorik rose, laid down his mug of ale on the bench, paused a moment, and said, “Well, I would like to know what you think the men should do, Merrik. I really would. That is, you may go first, then the rest of us will tell Laren what is to be done with this man who is so damnably perfect he should be dead, a knife sticking out of his gullet.”
Merrik could only shake his head. “Don’t let her goad you.
She’s my wife, I know her. She oils her tongue around her words.
She’s dangerous. Listen to me. Cleve is one of us.
He is as much my brother as you are, Rorik.
If he happens to be able to repeat the act more times than the rest of us, what does it matter? ”
“I say hang the bastard,” Haakon said. “Now my Utta will look at me, her mouth all sad, but she won’t tell me that I’ve failed her, maybe not for at least another five years, but then, if she’s too used to me, she will throw up Cleve in my face.
I say kill him, cut out his guts. I want to boil his guts and feed them to Kerzog. ”
Entti, who held her sleeping son in her arms, rose and said, “Haakon, Utta would never make you feel less a man, even after five years and her being too used to you. None of us would. We are kind. We understand that certain men simply aren’t—well, no matter.
” She paused a moment, and looked at Chessa.
“I suggest that we end this with a very simple solution. All the women will speak to Chessa and she will tell us what it’s like to have a man with such endurance, such skill, such pride in his work.
We will enjoy it through her. We won’t shame any of you. We love you. We are understanding.”
Hafter had turned red. “I’ll kill the damned bastard now.” He rushed at Cleve, his hands raised to go around his throat. Merrik blocked him, and the fighting began.
Cleve jumped onto the table and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Stop it, all of you! Can’t you see the women are just having sport with you?
Are you so lackbrained that you don’t understand what Laren’s done to you?
And Entti? And all the others, including Utta, who makes the best mead in all the world?
It’s all a jest, nothing more. They are laughing at us.
I will tell you the truth. Listen to me—I fell asleep.
Aye, that’s the absolute truth. I fell asleep with Chessa wide awake beside me.
I failed her. I gave her no pleasure. I rutted her like a stoat and gave her nothing but pain and she was a virgin.
Don’t break Haakon’s arm, Gunleik. I’m a failure as a man.
I’m nothing but offal on the refuse pile.
Believe me, for it’s the truth.” He gave his wife a malignant look, shook his fist at her, and strode from the longhouse.
Actually, he stomped from the longhouse, Chessa thought, watching him.
She looked up to see Laren wink at her. Why, she thought, Laren was as wicked as she was. It was heartening.
There was utter silence where only the moment before it had been pandemonium.