Lord of Falcon Ridge (Viking Era 4)

Laren leaned forward, her vibrant red hair glistening in the light of the leaping fire, thick and damp with the mist that hung low over them. “I remember you told us your mother died. Do you remember this, Cleve? Did this Varrick kill her?”

“I don’t know. She died just before I was taken. I remember thinking when I was well enough to think, Why me? Why not my brother? He was, after all, the heir to Kinloch. But I was the one struck, I was the one left for dead, I was the one found and nursed back to health, then sold as a slave.” He paused, “Look over Loch Ness. Look at how very murky it is. That’s because of all the peat moss in it. Even when there’s no mist, even with a bright sun overhead, you can’t see very far beneath the surface. It’s also said that the loch is bottomless, that any who fall into it will never come up. It’s said that there are caves honeycombing the sides and that bodies wash into those caves and are held there for the monster.”

“You remember all that?” Merrik asked, knifing down one final bite of the deer stew. “Ah, Laren, that was delicious.”

Cleve grinned. “Nay, I listened to several men at the market today. A fisherman had just disappeared in the loch. They told me all about it. They made little attempt to find him since they know he’s dead and there’s no hope of regaining his body for burial. Never does anyone venture onto the loch after sunset.”

“This man you describe,” Laren said, “He does rather sound like this Lord of the Night, this Lord of Evil. He wore black and pranced about in raging storms, he painted his face blue. What sort of markings were they, do you remember, Cleve?”

“I only remember squares and circles. I was only five or six years old, Laren. Perhaps not even that.”

“This was all twenty years ago,” Chessa said. “That’s a very long time, but it seems your stepfather is still very much alive. I am anxious to see him. I like the notion of him wearing black and prancing about. It makes my mind spin.”

“Oh, no,” Cleve said, and slapped his hand against his forehead. “Not more chaos from you, Chessa. Be quiet, and think only calm thoughts.”

“We’ll discover the truth tomorrow,” Merrik said. He turned to his wife, who was leaning against his shoulder, staring with her skald’s dreamy eyes into the fire. “Have you already begun to weave your tale, sweeting?”

“Aye, my lord. It is the ending that eludes me. I want to know more about this monster.”

“There is one,” Cleve said, and every man leaned forward, silent and alert. He felt a ripple of fear, of the unknown, grip them. It gripped him as well. “It’s said that the monster lives in Loch Ness and has for thousands of years. Whether it is good or evil, no one knows. The men who were speaking of the monster said he’s seen not just on clear nights beneath the moonlight, but during the day as well, at any time. It’s said the monster comes out during storms only when it’s called. Perhaps that is why my stepfather is a fiend. They believe he calls the monster out.”

“This has all the makings of a fine tale,” Laren said, and yawned. “My lord.” She offered her hand to her husband and he pulled her up and into his arms.

There was no choice that night. Kiri would sleep with her two papas. Cleve wanted Chessa so much he nearly moaned aloud with his need for her. As for his wife, she just looked at him wistfully, kissed him when Kiri turned away, then sighed when the child whipped about and frowned up at her, jealousy clearly writ on her small face. Chessa said, “I’m a princess, Kiri. I can kiss anyone I want to. Even you.” She grabbed up the little girl, tossed her into the air, then caught her and kissed her loudly on her little mouth.

Laren said to Cleve, “She does well with Kiri. I knew that one day you would wed, but I also knew that Kiri wouldn’t like it at all. You made an excellent choice, Cleve.”

“Ha,” he said. “I made no choice at all. It was she who picked me with my hideous scarred face and my eyes that don’t match.”

“I wish you would stop that,” Laren said, shaking his woolen sleeve. “You’re a dangerous-looking devil, aye, that’s true enough, and it makes all the women shiver with the thought of what you’d do to them. As for those eyes of yours, well, if it weren’t for Merrik standing not an inch behind me, I’d leap on you, just like Chessa always seems to want to do.”

“Aye, and after you’d leapt at me, Laren, Merrik would kill me,” Cleve said. “You think me dangerous, Laren?”

“Oh, aye,” she said. She said over her shoulder as Merrik just laughed and tugged at her hand, “Your eyes will very likely seal your claim to your birthright. No one could be certain you were the same

child who returned as Cleve, but your gold eye and your blue eye, all would remember that.”

“She’s right,” Merrik said. “I fear only that this Lord Varrick will simply stick a knife between your ribs or poison you. Now, wife, I’m weary to my bones. But not weary in other places.” He led his wife to their small tent, set apart from the other men’s, her merry laughter sounding in their ears.

Chessa grabbed Cleve by his ears. “You mustn’t listen to other women, husband, even Laren. Saying she would leap on you if Merrik weren’t close. Bah! They will make your head grow fat and filled with thoughts of your own beauty. You must only listen to me. I will never lie to you.”

“And what will you tell me, Chessa?”

“That when you look at me I want to make you part of me forever.”

He just stared down at her. “I asked, didn’t I?”

“And I would leap on you even if Merrik is close. As for Kiri—”

“Papa, I’m tired.”

“Aye, sweeting, we’ll sleep now.” He sighed again, very deeply. Chessa sighed as well.

21

LOCH NESS GLISTENED beneath a morning sun. There was no soft mist to bathe the surrounding green hills and sloping forests of pine and oak beneath a mysterious white veil. The land looked lonely and magical, savage and unforgiving. Chessa could easily see the undergrowth of holly and hazel from the warship. Heather was everywhere, colorful blooms rioting over rocks, very close to the shore. The land had a wild and forlorn look. A golden eagle flew overhead, an osprey close behind it. She heard buzzards squawking. It was warm, the water was calm, and the men rowed smooth and cleanly through it. It was a large loch, fresh water, and very wide. But still the water wasn’t a clear rich blue like the fjords at home, no, just below that clear surface it was dark. Chessa didn’t want to fall in that water.

“Is it really bottomless, Cleve?” Chessa said, gazing down into the murky water.