Lord of Falcon Ridge (Viking Era 4)

She stared up at him. She’d wanted these words from him for so very long. She said only, “Aye, I’ll accept that, husband, just as I accept you, forever.”

Three days passed without incident. Athol gave all of them a wide berth. As for Argana, she said nothing at all to Chessa, but since she’d never said anything in any case, nothing had changed. As for Cayman, she seemed more beautiful as each day passed, her flesh glowing, her eyes brighter than the gleam of the noonday sun. It was odd, but it was so, and she too remained silent.

Ah, but Varrick. He held himself apart from all except Cleve. It was as if he knew if he didn’t make Cleve trust him, he would lose everything.

On the fourth day, Merrik said to Cleve and Chessa as they walked along the narrow path beside the loch, “Laren and I begin to believe we should return to Malverne. The men are restless. No, I will be honest with you. They are afraid of this place, of this monster Lord Varrick calls Caldon. They don’t want to leave you here, Cleve, but they are afraid.”

Cleve looked at Laren, who was looking over the loch, searching for the monster, he knew. She spent all her time studying the loch at different times of day, searching, always searching.

Merrik said, “She wants to see the monster again. She remembers it vividly from that day of the attack, but she says it isn’t enough. She wants it to come to her so she may speak to it. She will weave a skald’s tale that will last until more generations than we can imagine believe in this monster and search for it as she does. She tries to seduce the beast from the depths of the loch.”

“I saw the monster just yesterday,” Kiri said, and everyone stopped and stared down at her. She was holding a piece of bright purple heather, sniffing it, and nodding up at them. “Caldon isn’t a monster. Igmal is right. Caldon is a mother and she has many children, just like my two papas will have. She came to me and smiled. She has a very long neck, but she can bend it low enough so I can see her face. I told her that Lord Varrick isn’t like my papas. I don’t think she wants to come when he calls to her. She looked sad. She made me feel that there is something even beyond her that beckons her to him. Then she just sank beneath the water and I didn’t see her again.”

Cleve stared down at his daughter, wondering if this story was real, knowing that it couldn’t be, yet pleased that Kiri could tell such a splendid tale. Perhaps she had skald’s blood in her as did Laren.

Laren said, “Kiri, you will tell me everything before you go to sleep tonight, all right?”

“Yes, Aunt,” Kiri said, and skipped away to break off more heather, as purple as the bruise on Chessa’s upper thigh from Cleve’s loving the previous night.

Cleve said, “This is my home. Chessa insists that where I am she will be also. She swears to me that she loves this savage land, that the mist now caresses her face like a lover’s fingers.”

“Did I truly say that, Cleve?”

“Perhaps not so eloquently,” Cleve said. “We will stay. It is my home, my birthright. There is nothing for me at Malverne, Merrik. You are lord there and Laren is lady. Aye, Chessa, Kiri, and I will remain here. We must. And I have an idea that I hope my father will approve.”

“You could return to Duke Rollo’s court in Rouen,” Laren said. “My uncle believes you to be the greatest of all diplomats, Cleve.”

“Chessa dislikes me as a diplomat.”

“Aye, he’s like a snake his tongue is so smooth. If he weren’t so beautiful I would never have paid attention to him at my father’s court.”

Merrik laughed, shaking his head, but it ended quickly. He looked out over the loch. “The mist is rolling in from the sea again. It never ends. In Norway, there is frigid weather and more snow than a man can sometimes bear, but in the summer months, then the sun scarce ever leaves the sky, it is more beautiful than Laren’s eyes.”

“We will become accustomed,” Chessa said. “Now, you wonder what to do. You fear to leave us here alone. If Varrick wanted us dead, then he would see that all of us were killed. Your men would make no difference. Leave, Merrik. Return to Malverne and your children. This is now our home.”

Merrik just shook his head, took his wife’s hand, and said, “We will leave in two days, if nothing more happens.”

“I want to speak to Kiri,” Laren said, and hurried off after the child, who was trying to pat a sheep that was grazing on a hillside near a clump of heather.

“She wants to see that damned monster again,” Merrik said. “I pray she will, else my life will be a misery.” He smiled and walked swiftly after Laren.

25

THE FOLLOWING MORNING Chessa took a final bite of porridge, and slowly licked the wooden spoon, for Argana’s honey was as sweet as Cleve’s kisses. She offered to assist Argana but the woman only shook her head. “Once you live here and aren’t here as a guest, then you will have duties you select but not before then. Is it true that Merrik and Laren and all the Malverne men will leave soon?”

“Aye,” Chessa said. “There is no reason for them to remain. This is my husband’s home, not Malverne.”

Argana gave her a look she couldn’t begin to understand.

“What will you do, Argana?”

“What do you mean, Chessa? Do about what? About Varrick, my husband of eighteen years, the man who would have killed me with little regret? I will do nothing. What can a woman do about anything, save serve and hold her tongue when she’s angry, mayhap even bite her tongue until it bleeds?”

“You could tell him he’s a swine.”

Argana stared at her, then threw back her head and laughed. She couldn’t seem to stop laughing. Chessa began to laugh with her. All looked at them, mouths agape, eyes furtively searching out the Lord of Kinloch. Chessa said, “Why is there no joy here? No laughter? You laughed and it is very nice, Argana, yet look at your people. They are shocked that we laughed and perhaps even frightened.”

“Cayman laughs sometimes,” Argana said. “But she goes off by herself to do it. I’ve seen her in the hills, walking about, picking flowers just as your Kiri does, and she’ll sniff the flowers and then smile, then perhaps she will laugh. It is a sweet sound. Cayman was always a sweet child and a sweet girl, but she has lived here all her life, and that, Chessa, is too long. You saved my life. I’ve said nothing about it to you because I—” She paused, staring down at the cut on her thumb. It was red and swelled. “I wonder how I did this. I have no memory of it.”