Lord of Falcon Ridge (Viking Era 4) - Page 45

“She’s talking about her second papa.”

Cleve looked over his daughter’s head. Nothing was right. Nothing had been right the minute he’d met Chessa when she’d forced him to come into that garden at her father’s palace. He turned back and said to Rorik, “Now she plans to starve herself if both Chessa and I aren’t with her.”

Kiri chewed on another piece of meat given to her by her uncle Rorik. “Two papas are good,” she said, and licked her fingers.

“Aye, it means you’ll get more attention and become as irritating as Ragnor,” Cleve said, thinking that he probably should cuff her, but he kissed her instead. He said to Rorik, “Kerek will expect us to do something. We must have a plan that even he won’t guess.”

“Aye,” Hafter said, sitting cross-legged beside Cleve. “He’s clever. That’s frightening in an enemy.”

Cleve suddenly smiled, and it made him look dangerous and terrifying, that scar with the smile made him look like the Christian devil himself. “Kerek won’t expect this,” he said, and rubbed his hands together.

13

CHESSA SAT AT a long banquet table across from Ragnor. The chamber was long and narrow, benches around all the walls. Many people could dine in here. There were no windows. Dishes of oil with burning wicks floating in them sat at intervals on the oak planked table. Rush lights were fastened to the walls. Guards stood at the two entrances. The ceiling was low, the wooden beams black from years of smoke. There must have been a cooking fire in here at one time. The king’s magnificent chair was still empty. Kerek sat next to her, Ragnor opposite her, smiling lazily like a lizard sunning himself.

“I didn’t think Kerek could get you for me.” Ragnor bit off a large chunk of bread and began chewing, his mouth still open. “Truth is, Chessa, I would rather have Utta.”

“Utta is married, you fool,” she said, and picked up her own piece of bread. She opened her mouth wide, stuffed it in, and began chewing just as Ragnor was.

“You will stop that,” Ragnor said, throwing his bread down. “You revolt me. It makes you look ugly.”

“What, don’t you believe that when you do it, it makes you look just as ugly and revolting?”

“Princess,” Kerek said. “Please, don’t push him. He doesn’t understand your humor.”

“Shut your mouth, Kerek. You don’t understand anything. Listen, Chessa, I’ll beat you.” He leaned over the table toward her. “I’ll get a whip from the stables and I’ll strip you to your white skin and I’ll beat you. Then you won’t make sport of me. Then you’ll hold your shrew’s tongue.”

“You stuck your sleeve in the stewed peas, Ragnor. It’s dripping. You look ridiculous.”

“Princess. My lord. If you both please,” Kerek said. “Here comes your father. I beg you to moderate your speech, both of you.”

As King Olric walked to the table, with two very young and very beautiful female servants who were mirror images of each other behind him whose function at the dining table Chessa couldn’t guess, Kerek said, “I trust your chamber is sufficient, Princess?”

“No,” she said. “It is too small, the box bed is too narrow, the pillow is too firm, the—”

“And your servant, Ingurd? She’s stupid and insults you? I selected her myself,” said Kerek.

He’d gotten her. “Your men brought cold bathwater. I am used to much more luxury, Kerek.” She looked around, her eyes meeting the king’s. “This palace isn’t at all what I expected. It’s dark and smells of old food. It hasn’t the grace and wealth of my father’s palace in Dublin.”

“You didn’t expect anything,” Ragnor shouted at her. “Damn you, Chessa, stop playing the spoiled bitch. It won’t work, no one will believe you, at least they won’t once they realize what a stubborn witch you are.”

“I am King Olric.”

She smiled at the old man, who was short, fat bellied, and hadn’t a single tooth in his mouth. He looked petulant and vain. He looked as if his wits had begun wandering some years before.

“These are two of my concubines.” They were each so fair that their hair looked nearly white. Their eyes were down. “They’re twins, so alike even I can’t tell who is who. I bought them from their father. They suit me well enough. And you are Princess Chessa, King Sitric’s daughter. You are here now, just as Kerek promised. Well done, Kerek.”

“I wish you’d asked me, Father. I would have gotten her sooner than Kerek did.”

“Is that true, Ragnor? Perhaps later you can tell me how you planned to bring the princess here.”

She realized in that instant that he was dangerous, that he would lash out and grant no mercy, not just threaten, despite wandering wits. She said, “Your concubines are beautiful, sire.”

A male slave assisted the king into his chair. One of the concubines unfolded a beautiful linen cloth and spread it over the king’s chest, to protect the gold chains about his neck, each of them inlaid with diamonds and rubies.

King Olric said to Kerek, “She is passable. Her hair is black, but with the ribbons threaded through the braids, it lessens the coarse effect. Her skin is a strange shade—a pale gold—unusual, but not ugly. She looks foreign. It is her eyes that are interesting. Stand up, Princess. I wish to see if you’ll be a good breeder.”

She heard Kerek suck in his breath. She realized he was frightened of what she would do. She looked at Ragnor and watched him sit forward. Very slowly, a gentle submissive smile on her face, Chessa rose from her chair. She walked slowly to where the king sat, watching her. She lightly touched his sleeve. “Do you think I’ll breed well, sire?”

Tags: Catherine Coulter Viking Era Historical
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