“I dismissed the guards, my lord,” Weland said into the immense silence. “Laren said she wanted only you and me to know she’d returned. And Otta, of course. Only Haakon knows besides us. He is seeing to Merrik’s men. He is saying only that they are your visitors from Norway, naught else. There is betrayal, my lord. We must take steps before it is known she and Prince Taby are returned to us.”
Rollo said finally, “Where is Taby?”
Merrik said, “He is at my farmstead, Malverne, lying some half day’s inland sail from Kaupang. He is safe and guarded well.”
“Ah, and when we know who had you abducted and sold as slaves, then you will bring Taby back to me?”
“Aye, my lord, but not until then. I love the child. I won’t chance his being hurt again. I would ask that none save you, sire, and Weland here know that Taby is alive. I won’t take any chance with his safety, no matter how unlikely.”
“I agree, Merrik. However, he must come back to me, for my only son, William, as yet has no heirs that have survived their mother’s womb. Taby is important to me, important to Normandy.”
“That is the only reason I am here, sire.”
Rollo looked at the Viking more closely now. “You are Laren’s husband,” he said. “Did you wish to wed her before or after she told you who she was?”
Merrik took no offense. “Before, sire. However, I care not about this Danelaw prince. She is mine now and the mistress of Malverne.”
Rollo made no move, merely continued studying the man who’d saved his niece and Taby. For that, he owed him more than he could imagine, as did his son, William, for William knew it vital for a man’s line to continue, and continue it would. This man Merrik Haraldsson looked to be a man of fine parts—big and robust, bursting with youth and good health—no pain in his damned joints!—and he had the handsome looks women admired, that doubtless Laren admired. He would see. Aye, he would study this man closely before he decided if he would keep Laren with him or let her hold to this marriage.
He said to Weland, “For the moment Laren will remain with Merrik. He will guard her better than any of our men, but keep men close to their sleeping chamber nonetheless.” Rollo turned away and smote his palm against his forehead. “Ah, why did I listen to those damnable women? They told me they’d heard of plots and evil men who wished me dead, and through Taby and you, Laren, to eventually destroy my dynasty. There are always plots, always evil men, particularly that vicious lot from the Orkneys, and thus I believed them. I have kept William safe but I failed with you and Taby. By all the gods, Helga’s tongue is smoother than an adder’s, and Ferlain’s manner is as innocent and guileless as a damnable Christian nun’s. I will kill the bitches.”
“We must have proof, my lord,” Laren said. “I cannot be certain, even though it seems very likely. As you said, there are always evil men, even the Franks who owe their allegiance to their Frankish king, Charles.”
“More than likely. I will speak to Otta about this, but I will not tell him about Taby, no matter that he deserves to know. I don’t know where he is. Weland, where is Otta?”
“He, er, is in the privy, sire. He will attend you soon.”
“Otta and his damned belly,” Rollo said. “His belly is always paining him, always sending him to the privy. Well, Merrik, let me tell you that I was nearly to the point of deciding that one of their husbands should follow if something happened to William. Well, I was not completely ready to do it. I am not an ancient graybeard just yet. I would have waited perhaps another year or another score of years. William’s wife is breeding. We pray to the Christian God for a live boy. If it happens to come out a girl, then we will see—”
Merrik interrupted him smoothly, “And what if they tired of waiting and poisoned you, sire, or William?”
Weland said, his wide brow lowering, “Aye, ’tis likely what they would have done, you have the right of it, Merrik Haraldsson. Otta has spoken about that as well. He is forever worrying that Rollo and William will be poisoned. He many times tastes Rollo’s food before he allows him to eat.”
“Aye,” Rollo said, laughing. “Then he hies himself to the privy as if he had really just eaten the poison.”
Merrik grinned, then grew quickly serious. “What do you wish to do, sire?”
Suddenly Rollo smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. It was filled with rage and intelligence and determination. Merrik saw in him the immense strength of will and the unending ambition that had made him a man above men, that had led him into more battles than any man should survive, ah, but Rollo had not only survived, he’d conquered an entire land and was now its ruler. And, Merrik thought, he would rule until the gods determined his time had finally come to an end, then his son would rule, his grandson after him. He saw this, believed it, and prayed it would be true.
21
ROLLO KEPT HER close, always within his reach—his hand on her shoulder, lightly touching her face, squeezing her fingers. And he marveled at how s
he’d become a woman, of what she’d endured, how she’d survived, keeping both herself and Taby alive, how very proud her father, Hallad, would be . . . His thoughts stopped there, he always forced them to stop, for life continued, so many times in unexpected ways, and in this case he’d won, he’d changed damnable fate. He grasped Laren’s wrist and frowned as he felt the still prominent bones.
They’d eaten in Rollo’s private chambers, a sumptuous meal that made even Merrik sigh in contentment. Neither Otta nor Weland were present. Merrik had yet to meet Otta. “Laren is a good cook, sire, but I’m not certain if she could best this.”
“The venison is beyond delicious,” Laren said. “Nay, husband, I fear my skills do not exceed what you have already eaten by my hand.” Her uncle was looking appalled, and she added quickly, “One of my owners, an old woman, taught me to cook. I learned well.”
Rollo said slowly, “It is almost more than I can comprehend. My niece a slave. There is knowledge in your eyes, Laren, and sadness, but more than that I also see the happiness there brought to you by this man.”
This man was looking at the two of them. He smiled. “I have tried, sire, to please her. Did you know she is a skald?”
Rollo stared at her in some amazement.
“Aye,” Laren said. “It was my plan to gain silver from the telling of my stories, and buy Taby’s and my freedom from Merrik. However, I had no idea how I would return to you even if Taby and I were free. There was Cleve, of course. He had to come with us.”
“Cleve,” Rollo repeated. “Tell me about this Cleve.”