Lord of Falcon Ridge (Viking Era 4)

“No, not you, Papa. My second papa. She’s very angry.”

Cleve had no idea what Kiri was talking about. Perhaps he was crazed, for the days and nights had flowed into each other, the hunger and thirst growing and growing until none of the men even wanted to speak. They were waiting for death. When Kerek brought them food and water in the dark of night, they thought he was merely torturing them, making their ultimate death drag out. But he’d come again and again. Not enough times, but he had kept them alive. But the men wouldn’t trust him. They knew it was a game, Ragnor’s twisted game, and they would die. They were convinced of it, all save Merrik. He just said again and again, “Rorik will come in time.”

And Rorik had come and now they had a chance. But for the moment, the only important thing in the world was getting that beef chewed and into his belly.

Each warrior was responsible for one man. Slowly, they made their way from the prisoner barrack, bending low, ever watchful, silent as the night air. Cleve breathed in the clean night air. He whispered, “I never thought to be free again. We all gave up except Merrik. He never doubted Rorik would come. Thank you.”

Gunleik grinned. “We’re not away yet, Cleve. Hold your thanks until we’re in the warship and leagues from this cursed Danelaw.”

It happened so quickly the men were stunned. Two men came out of the darkness. One grabbed Chessa, the other grabbed Kiri, and held the little girl in front of him, his hands wrapped around her neck. He yelled, “Don’t any of you breathe or I will twist her neck off.”

By all the gods, Cleve thought, staring helplessly at his daughter. Someone knew they’d escaped. Mayhap someone had planned it. But why Kiri? Why Chessa? Where were the rest of the men, armed and ready to kill all of them?

When the man grabbed her, Chessa, just like the men, froze with surprise, but for only an instant. She grabbed one of the knives in her belt. She saw the other man had Kiri and knew she had to do something. She left the knife in its scabbard. She went limp.

“She fainted dead away,” the man said, grunting as he brought her up against him.

“Wait, Erek, look at her closely. Kerek said she was smart. I don’t think—”

Whatever he would have said was cut off by Erek’s yell. Chessa shoved her fist into his throat. He dropped her, his hands going around his neck even as he fell to his knees. She had a knife out in a flash. She grabbed Erek by his dirty hair, yanked back, and set the blade of her knife across his throat. She said quietly, “Tell him to set the child down carefully or you’re dead.” She nicked his throat, just a bit, just enough so he could feel the wet of his blood.

“Drop the babe, Olaf. I have no wish to die.”

“Aye, let her go,” Cleve said, stepping forward. “Give me the child.”

“Forgive me, Cleve, but I must keep her, at least for the moment.” Kerek stepped out of the darkness.

The men looked ready to leap on him, but they were powerless. Merrik’s men had been chained like slaves for over a week. And now they were helpless again. All were warriors and yet they could do nothing save stand there and watch. Slowly, stealthfully, they began slowly moving into a circle.

“You,” Rorik said. “Kerek, what is this?”

“By all the gods,” Merrik said. “You brought us food and water.

You kept us alive. Why, damn you? What is the meaning of this? You play one of Ragnor’s perverted games?”

Kerek held up his hand. He turned to Chessa. “If you agree to come with me, Princess, Olaf will give Kiri back to her father. It’s a simple trade.”

“Papa.”

“It’s all right, sweeting. Don’t move.”

“I don’t know how to make him let me down, Papa. He’s strong.”

“I know. Promise me you won’t move.” Cleve looked at Chessa. Her face was pale in the eerie predawn light but her hand was firm on that knife. The man Erek hadn’t moved, had barely breathed. He’d heard Kerek speak with near reverent awe of Chessa, of her strength, her will, the future she would give to the Danelaw.

Cleve said to Kerek, “You wanted this to happen, that much is obvious. But you couldn’t have known that Chessa would have brought Kiri. Explain yourself, Kerek.”

“On our voyage back to York, Torric and I managed to plan what we would do. When you released him to fetch King Olric, he told the king of our plan to drug you and it worked. I kept you alive because, despite all that’s happened, I consider you my friends. Ragnor forgets that you saved our lives, Rorik. I have never forgotten. However, I must have the Princess and now it will happen.

“The day you woke up from the drug, the king sent men to Hawkfell Island with a simple offer. All of you would be returned in exchange for the Princess.”

“There was no messenger,” Rorik said.

Kerek merely shrugged. “Both the captain and I gave them the best directions we could. It appears they didn’t find the island.”

“The storm,” Rorik said slowly. “There was a terrible storm that lasted nearly four days. We couldn’t leave until it was over. They were probably killed.”

“Aye, I have thought as much, that or they were blown off course. I knew Rorik would come to rescue you, despite Ragnor, who would have killed all of you if his father hadn’t stopped him. Well, not really the king, but never mind that now. Aye, Lord Rorik, I knew you’d come. I’ve had guards hidden waiting for you. You came. One of my men fetched me immediately. I couldn’t believe my good fortune when I saw the Princess and the little girl. It was then I knew the gods blessed my endeavor. Aye, the gods approve what I’m doing for the Danelaw. They sent me the princess and the little girl.”