Lord of Falcon Ridge (Viking Era 4)

“He is promising them more silver if they return with him.”

“Do they realize he’s lying to them?”

“You won’t speak like that of your future husband, Princess, and he will very shortly be your husband. I will ensure it. I promised the queen.”

“You, Kerek, you will ensure that Ragnor keeps his word and gives them more silver?”

“No, I will ensure that you marry him.”

“Listen to me, Kerek. Your loyalty to him is—I don’t know what it is. Let me go, else I swear to you that your wretched master will be very unhappy if you force me back to York.”

“We will see about that. Why did you tell everyone that Ragnor raped you? I have wondered and wondered and come up with no answer. Ragnor believes it is simply a sign that you want him, thus your compliance. He is wrong, of course. Why did you do it?”

She said nothing, merely looked at the bowl of porridge in Kerek’s large hand. He untied the ropes around her wrists, then rubbed the feeling back into them. She began to eat Utta’s wonderful porridge, laced through with honey.

She said at last, “It was Ragnor who said he’d raped me. I merely agreed with him.”

“Why?”

“I don’t wish to marry William of Normandy either. It seemed an excellent way to make him break the marriage contract.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Kerek said. “I didn’t want to believe it, but I’ve seen you looking at Cleve. His face is ugly as a monster’s. He isn’t handsome like Ragnor. Why do you look upon him the way you do?”

“He isn’t ugly. He’s beautiful. I’ve finished the porridge. Let me go now, Kerek.”

“I can’t, Princess.” He leaned over her and stuffed a cloth in her mouth. Before she could spit it out, he tied another cloth over her mouth, knotting it at the back of her head. He quickly tied her hands. He said to her as he wrapped her completely in a thick wool blanket and lifted her over his shoulder, “I’m sorry about your discomfort, Princess, but I couldn’t take you to the warship earlier. The palisade gates are well guarded. They wouldn’t have let me pass, not carrying something over my shoulder. Now all Ragnor’s men are carrying their belongings to the warship. No one will question me.”

He opened the small door, looked both ways, then strode with her over his shoulder, well hidden in the blanket, toward the palisade gates. The gates were wide open, men, women, children, goats, chickens, and cows all milling about. Men were climbing back up from the dock, others carrying foodstuff or clothing down to store on the warship.

Kerek whistled as he walked down the long path to the beach below. There was a lot of activity. It appeared that many of Ragnor’s men did believe he would pay them more silver. He wondered if Ragnor really would

. Probably not. He didn’t care.

“You’ve got her?” Ragnor said staring at the fat woolen blanket over Kerek’s shoulder.

“Aye, I only had to stuff a cloth in her mouth and tie her hands. I will speak to Ottar. He had no right to strike her. He hurt her. I didn’t even like tying her up but I knew she wouldn’t come with me willingly.”

“I told him to strike her if he needed to, so speak not to him, Kerek,” Ragnor said, then he turned away, saying over his shoulder, “I must return to the longhouse. I will be back shortly. Have everyone ready on the warship and at their oars.”

Kerek stared after Ragnor, wondering what he’d left at the longhouse, wanting to strike him for ordering Ottar to hit Chessa if he wished to, which he had. He carried Chessa on board and beneath a new leather tarp that covered the few goods that had survived the storm. He laid her gently on the wooden planks and unwrapped her. She looked up at him, her eyes deadly with anger. He quickly tied her wrists a bit tighter and rose. “I am sorry, Princess, but it must be.” She made a furious gurgling sound. He just shook his head and sighed. He stayed with her a few more minutes, saw that she was breathing more easily and then went out to the men. There were only thirteen men there to row them to York. He would row as well, and he hoped that even Ragnor would take his turn at the oars. They would have to row as quickly as they could for Kerek had no idea how long it would be before Chessa was missed and a hunt was mounted.

They had to hurry. He said to Torric, who was propped up against the rudder, his leg stuck out in front of him, “Why did Lord Ragnor return to the longhouse?”

Torric rolled his eyes. “You’ll not believe it, Kerek.”

“Believe what?”

Then he heard a yell, looked up to see Ragnor running as fast as he could down the path, the girl Utta slung over his shoulder, unconscious. Kerek could only stare. Torric was right, he couldn’t believe it. That stupid bastard. He’d told Ottar to mould a blanket in Chessa’s shape in the box bed so anyone looking in would think she still slept. It would have bought them time. But now that ass Ragnor had ruined everything. He’d simply grabbed Utta and carried her off.

There was nothing he could do. He yelled, “Everyone prepare to row until your hearts burst, else you’ll be food for the fish.”

When Ragnor reached the warship, Kerek yelled, “Drop her, Ragnor, leave her, else they’ll come after us and kill us all.”

“Nay, she will make me mead and let me bed her. You’ve seen how she looks at me. She wants me. She won’t mind that I can’t wed her. You’ll see. When I bed her, she’ll scream my name. Think you I should demand that when she screams, she screams Prince Ragnor or Lord Ragnor?”

“Damn you, you idiot, drop her on the beach!”

Ragnor raised her off his shoulder and tossed her to one of his men, his mightiest warrior, Olya, who caught her against him as if she were naught but a small child. He looked at Kerek and just shrugged. Ragnor yelled even as he jumped onto the warship, “Row, damn you all, row!”