Lord of Raven's Peak (Viking Era 3)

Laren didn’t say anything. She was suddenly thinking that the man who had struck Erik with the rock wouldn’t simply blurt out his guilt when confronted. No, he would have thought about this, reasoned it out and devised a story that would be reasonable. Or a woman, she thought. A woman could have struck Erik down.

She looked after her new husband, striding tall and determined beside Oleg. She tasted the warmth and sweetness of him on her mouth, the delight of him throughout her body. She cooled suddenly, her mind sharp and clear. She felt deep fear of the unknown man or woman who had passed her on the trail, looking down at her, knowing she would be blamed. And then, quite suddenly, she realized she hadn’t been completely unconscious when that man had passed her. She saw him lean over her, staring down at her, then rising, smiling. No sound from him, just that smile of his. If only she could see him. Ah, but she knew now it was a man, for that silent smile sounded yet in her mind.

She had to find Merrik.

Whose laughter?

“ . . . Prince Ninian was gone with no trace. The king was beside himself with grief. He took to his bed, refusing to eat or to drink. On the third day, he lay weak and uncaring about himself, about his kingdom, guilt overcoming all. He had lost Ninian and thus he had failed and didn’t deserve to live. He hadn’t kept the child safe and he knew Ninian was the future and now that future was blighted and it was all his fault.

“Suddenly, he saw a faint shadow form behi

nd the candlelight. He stared at it, his mouth opening in awe and fear as the shadow grew and grew, becoming more and more solid, until finally, it was a man. It was a Viking warrior, huge sword in his hand, garbed in a rough bearskin, a pounded gold helmet on his head, his eyes a beautiful startling blue. The warrior stared at him, then said, contempt lacing his words, ‘You will cease your grieving. You are the king. You will act the king. If you do not, your daughters will force themselves into power upon your death, placing their sodden, weak-willed husbands on the throne. Indeed I know that it is Helga’s husband, Fromm, who will take your place. Helga’s magic is greater than Ferlain’s. Ferlain and her husband, Cardle, will both die from poisoning.

“ ‘Rise now and resume your duties. Eat and drink and regain your strength. Bathe and robe yourself. Become once again the man you are supposed to be.’

“ ‘But Ninian, my beautiful boy, what of him?’

“ ‘I will fetch him now. When I return with him, I will see to it that your daughters and their husbands receive the punishment due them.’

“ ‘Ninian is not dead?’

“The warrior shook his head, the gold helmet catching the light of the candle flame, brilliant and dazzling as the midday sun.

“ ‘But who are you? How do you know these things?’

“The Viking warrior said, ‘Rise and be ready to receive Ninian. You will deal with your daughters and their husbands. Beware of Helga. She called forth the demons to kill Ninian. She will try to kill you as well.’

“The king leapt out of the bed. He felt young and incredibly strong, his days of privation forgotten. He wanted to touch the Viking warrior, but even as he walked toward him, the warrior seemed to retreat from him, though the king knew he hadn’t moved. The air was still and warm and the warrior just seemed to grow dimmer until he was a veil spun of the finest silk, then he was naught but a brief shadow, then nothing at all.

“The king stood there, fear curdling in his belly. Then, because he was the king, indomitable and decisive, he yelled for his servants. After he had supped and drunk his fill, he returned to his vast chamber to await the return of Ninian and the Viking warrior.

“He had not long to wait. One moment he was alone, hopeful in his solitude, and the next, there stood Ninian, alone now, dirty as a village urchin and looking healthy as the day he left. His clothes were torn, his knees scraped, but he was smiling, by all the gods, he looked very well indeed. The king dropped to his knees and gathered the boy to him.

“It was a joyous reunion until the king realized Ninian was somehow different. He drew back, tracing his fingertips over his beloved face, and said, ‘Where have you been? What befell you?’

“ ‘I have visited the netherworld that lies beneath the desert sands far to the south and east of here. I stayed with the demon of the desert sands, an odd title, Father, but that is who he said he was. He told me that I would remain with him forever, that I would become his heir. I told him that I couldn’t remain with him, that I belonged here, with you, here with all our people, that I was needed.

“ ‘He would not listen to me. I told him that he had to return me or the Viking warrior would come and hurt him. He laughed, Father. He laughed loudly, then, suddenly, he choked. His face turned blue and he clutched his throat. Then, the Viking warrior was there and he was not laughing. He raised his hand and the choking stopped. He watched the demon regain his breath, then told the demon of the desert sands that even though he was his brother, what he had done was against all their rules. He told him that he had the agreement of all the higher demons and that he would be forced to remain buried in his netherworld for one hundred years as his punishment. The demon of the desert sands begged and pleaded with the Viking warrior, but he just stood there, shaking his head. He raised his sword and the demon cowered away from him and left us alone.

“ ‘Then the warrior held me against him and suddenly I was here, Father, with you.’

“After the king had visited with his son, he gave him over to the servants to bathe him and garb him well. Then he called for his daughters and their husbands. Helga and Ferlain believed they were being called to their father’s deathbed to receive his blessing. Imagine their consternation when they saw him, hale and strong, seated on his throne, garbed in his finest silks. Their husbands, Fromm and Cardle, stood back, not understanding why their wives looked pale and ill. They bowed to their father-in-law, bidding him good day. They remarked to him that he looked in excellent health, contrary to what they’d heard. They trusted he’d come to accept that Prince Ninian was dead.

“The king merely smiled at them and bade them seat themselves on a bench against the whitewashed wall of the huge chamber. Then he said, ‘Helga, come here.’

“She did, forcing herself to smile, but surely nothing was lost yet. So he looked healthy, so perhaps he was resigned to Ninian’s death. She would see to it that he sickened soon enough. She wondered if he had asked them here to announce that now because Ninian was gone from them, Fromm would be his heir. That made her smile in truth now as she approached her father.

“She bowed before him. ‘You look well, Father,’ she said.

“ ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘All of us look well.’

“ ‘We are all very sorry for Ninian’s disappearance, Father. We pray you are not too distraught.’

“ ‘Nay,’ the king said. ‘I am very well, as I told you.’

“ ‘Do you ask us here to proclaim that our husbands are now your heirs?’

“ ‘Oh no,’ the king said. ‘I bade you here to welcome back your brother.’ He called out and Ninian came from behind the thick crimson draperies behind the king’s throne.