Lord of Falcon Ridge (Viking Era 4) - Page 10

“Then you, Merrik, and Laren will travel up the eastern coast of the Danelaw to Scotland. Will you take Kiri with you and that damned cur of hers? Do you need more warriors?”

Cleve nodded. “Kiri and Irek, aye, they’ll come. It will be our home. We don’t have need of more warriors. We will have two warships and forty men. It seems that all Merrik’s men grew bored and testy. All want to trade, mayhap fight and plunder and enjoy new women if they can.”

“Aye, it is a man’s way. Merrik’s warriors are amongst the best. Still, I should like to send some of my own warriors with you. Just a few, Cleve. My captain is Bjarni, a man who is loyal to me and stronger than the oak tree from which I hang scoundrels.” Rollo sat back in his huge throne and rubbed his shaven chin. “I do not like Laren going. She is a woman. She could be harmed. Taby would not like it.”

“She survived for two years as a slave, sire. She is able to see to herself.”

“She is a woman. Women haven’t the strength of men.”

“She is nearly as skilled as I with a knife. ’Tis true Merrik’s sword drags her arm to the ground, but a knife will kill as true as the mightiest blade.”

Rollo grunted, still displeased. “Ah, there was another matter, Cleve.” Rollo paused. “It’s about Ragnor of York.”

“What about him? I was told by Sitric, after I’d offered him a goodly amount of mead, that Ragnor had tried to seduce Chessa, but failed. She was hurt by his lies and Sitric told me that she gave him a purge that had him puking up his innards for several days.”

“She doesn’t sound at all submissive, Cleve.”

“I would say rather, sire, that she was wronged and took her revenge.”

“She should have allowed another to avenge her.”

“Just as Laren should have waited for a warrior to rescue her and Taby?”

“Oh, aye, Cleve, you have your smooth, clever tongue. Your wit tires me.”

“Forgive me, sire. What is it you wished to tell me about Ragnor of York?”

“He has decided he wants the princess. His father has told him that he was a fool to try to deceive her, to seduce her without marrying her first. Ragnor, from the tale you just told me, would probably rather flay the flesh off her back than wed her now. Purged him, did she? Puked up his guts? What did she use?”

“Malle leaves mixed with ginger, something Ragnor likes, she told her father.”

“Did he have his ass bare as well?”

“I don’t know if the malle leaves have that result.”

Rollo laughed, a low rumble, then louder and louder until he threw his head back, striking it against the back of the huge throne. He grunted and leaned forward, allowing one of his bodyguards to rub the back of his head.

“More to the left, near my right ear,” Rollo said as the man massaged his head as gently as he would a babe’s.

“Did I tell you, Cleve, that William just laughed when I told him I was getting old and I should step down for him? Aye, he laughed and laughed, but he didn’t hit his head. He’s young and thinks ahead.”

“William knows that wisdom and leadership remain constant in a man of your abilities, sire.”

“That sounds like a diplomat’s hollow praise, Cleve.”

“That is what the princess told me. Do I speak with false praise? Say meaningless words? Very well, if it pleases you to hear the truth, I would agree with William. Keep to your place, Duke Rollo, until you can no longer rise from your bed. You have fought hard to gain your place, you have brought prosperity to a land that had been nearly torn asunder by avarice and battle and rapacity. Enjoy your power now, for all men must die. Valhalla might be what one would desire for eternity, but I think I should prefer the joys of the mortal world for as long as I could. Aye, sire, keep your throne and power for a while longer. William doesn’t mind. Your people don’t mind.”

“I raised him well,” Rollo said. “Did you say that the princess insulted you?”

“Aye, she did, said I had a tongue like an adder, a tongue that lolled about spewing honeyed words but said nothing.”

“She sounds difficult, Cleve.”

Cleve just smiled. The princess wasn’t all that difficult. However, William had no heavy hand with a woman, so Cleve imagined that her marriage to him would be pleasant. He wondered what Chessa would think of her father-in-law.

“In any case, I hear that Ragnor wants her. Wants to wed with her. He’s a man, not a boy, all of twenty-one, but he’s a selfish creature, spoiled. I can’t imagine that he would have any kindness for a girl who purged him.” The duke laughed again, this time throwing his head forward. Still, his bodyguard stepped up, ready. “Until she is here in Rouen, we must take care that Ragnor doesn’t take her.”

“I will fetch her myself, sire,” Cleve said, then wondered why he’d said it. He didn’t want to see Chessa again until she was standing beside William before a Christian priest. Then she would be William’s wife and nothing more would matter.

Tags: Catherine Coulter Viking Era Historical
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