“I’m relieved. Ragnor’s mind is filled only with the desire for my mead. He said it’s better than Utta’s.”
Kerek cursed softly. “You brought Utta’s mead, didn’t you? I should have guessed something was amiss.”
“Of course,” Cleve said. “My only concern is that the queen will refuse to give up Chessa because she believes her more valuable than Ragnor.”
“She’ll give her up. The Danes wouldn’t accept a woman ruling openly. But why didn’t you just leave her? You can have another woman. Why must it be Chessa?”
“Didn’t you tell me you were sorry when you made the trade for Kiri, sorry because I loved her?”
“Aye, but what does love have to do with anything? I’ve seen little enough of it around. Just look at you—Kiri’s mother tried to murder you. Forget love, Cleve, and leave. Chessa will be happy here, you’ll see.”
“Is that why Turella drugged her and has her hidden? Because she’s so concerned about how happy she’ll be? Give it up, Kerek. For the last time, give it up.”
“I must speak to the queen.”
“Why don’t both of us speak to her.”
They found Turella in her garden, on her hands and knees, sorting seeds. She was humming.
“Lady,” Kerek said and lightly touched his hand to her shoulder. She grew very still, then slowly, she looked up at him and Cleve saw that the look on her face was too tender for a queen toward her subject. He wondered how he could turn it to his advantage.
“Ah, Kerek. What have you done? You brought Baric’s woman. Why?”
Cleve said, “I’m really not a woman, my lady. My name is Cleve. I’m the father of Chessa’s babe. I’m here to fetch her and take her home.”
The queen slowly cleaned off her hands and rose. She looked at Cleve for a very long time, then said, her voice irritated, “I want to see what you look like as a man. I want to know what my grandson will look like.”
“Perhaps the babe will be the picture of Chessa,” Cleve said.
“You can’t have her, Cleve. It is done. You will leave willingly or I will give you to my son. He treated you badly before. Just imagine what he would do now.”
“Ragnor won’t do anything, lady. Your son is right now snoring blissfully, drugged to his brows, just as you drugged the princess.”
The queen staggered back. Kerek grabbed her arm to steady her. “Is he telling the truth, Kerek?”
“Aye, he is. I don’t know where he’s got Ragnor hidden. He wants to trade Ragnor for the princess.”
“I want it done now,” Cleve said. “Take me to Chessa.”
Slowly, the queen shook her head. “I cannot. She must wed Ragnor. She must someday rule the Danelaw.”
Cleve only smiled. He slipped a small very sharp knife from his tunic, grabbed Kerek, and stuck the knife point into his neck.
“Then first I will slit Kerek’s throat and then I will kill Ragnor. You can keep Chessa, but I don’t know what you’ll do with her. She’ll make you regret it too, if I know her. Ah, I see that you do. Give over, lady.” He pressed the knife tip into Kerek’s throat. A drop of blood trickled over the smooth blade.
Turella stepped forward. “No, don’t hurt him. By all the gods, what am I to do, Kerek?”
“Let him kill me, Turella, it doesn’t matter. But he will kill Ragnor as well and then where will we be? Cleve is right. It’s over. We must think of something else.”
The queen frowned down at her hands, at the black rich dirt beneath her nails. “We can find a silly little girl for Ragnor, I suppose. But it means that I must remain as I am, Kerek. I cannot die.”
“You w
on’t die,” Kerek said.
“This is all touching,” Cleve said. “Let’s end it. Will we trade?”
The queen nodded. “Release Kerek.”