Lord of Falcon Ridge (Viking Era 4)

Cleve just laughed and handed her up to Hafter, who hauled her into the warship. “I tried to throw her to the fish, but she wouldn’t let go of me.”

“What happened? Where are we?”

Cleve climbed over the side of the warship, shook himself like Kerzog, and said, grinning at her, “We rescued you. The queen gave you a potion. I gave Ragnor a potion. Then we made a trade. The queen didn’t want to, but she realized that you couldn’t rule the Danelaw without Ragnor as the nominal king. Unfortunately, the sweet prince never awoke before we gave him back to Kerek and the queen, else I would have enjoyed telling him that he’d fallen in love with Isla, who was really his worst nightmare, namely I, and it was Utta’s wine he was drinking. You’re safe now, Chessa. Now, let’s go get us both dry.”

“I’m very hungry, Cleve. I haven’t eaten since last night.”

“You,” Rorik said, cuffing her shoulder as he would a boy, “you haven’t eaten for at least two days.”

“Perhaps you don’t have to feed her. Just look at her, she still yells and talks,” Rorik said. “Any minute now she’ll want you to impregnate her again. How do you feel, Chessa?”

“Very cold. I shall collapse very soon since you haven’t fed me.”

“Come along,” Cleve said. “Would you like to try on my breasts? I brought them back with me. Poor Baric didn’t want to keep them. I think it would have saddened him to have them near him without me being attached to them. Ah, we did share some interesting moments together.”

“You should have let me stack up my sticks, Papa. I wouldn’t have run out this time.”

Cleve kissed Kiri, then said, “No more sticks. Now, I kept my promise to you. Here’s Chessa.”

“Papa!” Kiri jumped into Chessa’s arms and hugged her thin arms around her neck.

Chessa was laughing and kissing the little girl’s face. “Your papa—your first papa—was a great hero. Everyone in York believed he was Thor, come down with his lightning bolts to terrify the king and queen until they gave me back to him. As for you, you were wonderful, Kiri. I’m very glad you didn’t starve yourself again.”

“Aunt Laren said that since I now have two papas, I’m more important than ever. She said my papas couldn’t bear it if something happened to me. So I ate and ate.”

Chessa rubbed her palm over the little girl’s stomach. “Cleve,” she called out, laughing. “I fear we will have a very fat little creature on our hands if we leave her often. Instead of starving herself, she will cram food down her gullet until she waddles.”

Kiri laughed and pulled out of Chessa’s arms. She grinned at Cleve and Chessa then ran

to Aglida to play.

“Behold our true importance,” Cleve said. He turned to Mirana. “Chessa and I will wed. I can’t hold out against her any longer. I don’t want any more gray hairs. I will send a messenger to both Duke Rollo and to King Sitric.”

“Tomorrow,” Old Alna said, and cackled. “You’ll wed tomorrow. Finally, you’ll plant a real babe in her belly. Lord Rorik, I wish you’d brought back Captain Torric. Aye, what a fine lad he was.”

That evening, both during and after a dinner of roasted pheasant, fried halibut, and Entti’s delicious rye bread, Cleve told of his adventures in York. His disguise was brought out and admired and laughed over. Everyone begged him to dress just once for them as Isla. He refused, saying his daughter would swoon from disgust and shock.

Laren asked many questions about the people at the palace in York. Cleve provided her with all the details, as did Chessa. They knew that soon Laren would weave a skald’s tale. Cleve asked her at the end of the evening, “I beg you, Laren, let me remain a man. I dread thinking of how I will be greeted in future years if you tell about how Cleve of Malverne disguised himself as a whore with big breasts and more paint on her face than a whitewashed wall in order to rescue the damsel.”

Laren punched his arm and laughed. “I will think about it. Actually, I will ask Chessa after you’ve been married for several days. If you’ve pleased her, Cleve, why then, I will let you remain the mighty Thor.”

Cleve grinned down at her, sweet Laren, as beloved as a sister. “I’ll try my best, Laren, I’ll try my best.”

Just before the ceremony the following afternoon, Kiri said to Cleve, “You’re certain you wish to wed Chessa, Papa? I think she’s a very good second papa, but a wife is different. You’ve never wanted another wife since my mama.”

“I think those things that make her an excellent second papa will also make her a good wife. I have to marry her, Kiri.”

Kiri said slowly, frowning up at him, “But why?”

“If I don’t she’ll begin to count sticks and soon she’ll be so skinny she’ll blow off the eastern cliffs here on Hawkfell Island. She doesn’t want to be parted from us, Kiri, thus I must wed her.”

“I’ll talk to her, Papa,” Kiri said and ran to where Chessa stood with her aunt Mirana and her aunt Laren.

“Ah, my little beauty,” Chessa said and picked Kiri up in her arms. She groaned. “You’re a big girl now. I can’t lift you much longer.”

“But you’re my second papa. Papas are strong.”

“That’s true,” Chessa said. “I will have to grow more muscle.” She set Kiri down. “Now, sweeting, what do you think of my gown?”