Lord of Falcon Ridge (Viking Era 4)

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.”