She nestled against him, seeking the heat of his body. She whispered against his chest, “Do you miss Taby?”
“Aye, overmuch. It is a sorrow and a joy I will have all my life. Were it not Rollo to hold claim to him, I would keep him with me.”
“You have an excellent eye.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was a sniveling, filthy little boy and yet you wanted him the moment you saw him. You saw what he really was and accepted what you saw immediately, regardless of the other.”
“ ’Tis true, though I had no thought to his parentage. You were just as filthy and so thin I could have snapped your neck with my hand, yet I also took you and saved you and made you into a skald and married you.”
She raised herself on her elbows, trying to see him in the darkness of the tent. She felt his warm breath on her face. “You are a good man, Merrik.”
“Is that all I am to you?”
She shook her head, kissing his chin, saying, “Nay, you are also my lover, even though it is said that you need more practice.”
His hand was on her buttocks, lightly slapping her, then quickly caressing instead.
She arched into his hand, saying, “What will happen to Sarla? I do not know your customs for a widow. Uncle Rollo would marry her to another man of his choosing, use her for his own gain.”
“But that is not my way nor was it my father’s. A woman may refuse to wed any man. It is true that fathers arrange matters and negotiate for goods and a dowry, but the woman may still refuse, the man as well.”
“I am relieved to hear that. You forget that Uncle Rollo became a Christian when he swore fealty to King Charles. He says often that he doesn’t mind this heathen religion for it grants him many privileges he didn’t have before. And all the Christian monks bless him for actions the Viking gods would never allow.”
“Such as treating women as chattel and as puppets to gain what he wants. Your uncle is a smart man and a very ruthless one.” There was admiration in Merrik’s voice, and Laren punched him in his belly. He grunted, then grabbed her hand and brought it to his mouth. He kissed each of her fingers, then her palm. She stilled. Gently, he drew her back down against him. “If Sarla wishes it, I will return her to her family.”
“She loves Cleve and he loves her.”
He tensed. “I hope you aren’t right about that. It would mean that she betrayed my brother and that I cannot allow to pass. My brother didn’t deserve to have his wife betray him.”
She rammed her fist against his arm, this time in anger. “Betray him! By all the gods, Merrik, your brother took both Megot and Caylis to his bed—in front of Sarla’s nose! You speak of betrayal, what of him?”
“A man can take women unto himself. A woman cannot take a man other than her husband, for if she conceived, then the child born could be a bastard. It isn’t allowed, Laren. Did Sarla bed with Cleve?”
“No, I am certain they did not. They are both honorable. They feel guilty about their feelings, but they won’t act on them, not for a long time.”
“I will have to ponder this. It is disturbing. I like Cleve very much, but he has nothing to bring to Sarla. Aye, I will have to think about this.”
“You won’t take other women, will you, Merrik?”
He kneaded her buttocks, saying simply, “Erik believed I would. Who knows? After all, thus far you have proved yourself to be a cold woman, with little care for the pleasure I would offer you. You endure me, nothing more. You sigh with boredom when I am moaning with pleasure. It makes my man’s rod shrivel.”
She laughed, sent her fist lightly again into his belly, then immediately flattened her palm and caressed him. She felt his muscles tighten, felt him suck in his breath in anticipation. She smiled into the darkness, but didn’t allow her fingers to go lower. “ ’Tis true,” she said, her voice as sad as a merchant’s who had just lost a valuable barter. “I cannot even bring myself to give you any pleasure. Look at my hand. By the gods, it won’t move downward to your shriveled manhood. I can’t seem to make it move. What am I to do?”
He laughed, then grabbed her hand in his and pressed it against him. “Ah,” he said. “Now you needn’t do anything, at least until I direct you to.”
She found that her fingers did move. She wanted to stroke him, to feel him lurch and quiver as his need grew.
His need grew quickly. She was laughing until he came into her fully. Then she closed her eyes against the power of him and what he made her feel and she drew him deeper and deeper still. She groaned into his mouth, pushing upward, then yet again, until she cried out her pleasure. He kissed her until she calmed and then he found his own release.
“You pleased me, Merrik,” she said, her voice still raw and breathless. “Aye, you pleased me.” She bit his shoulder, then said, “Next time I will please you more.”
He wondered how that would be possible, but didn’t question it. He said, “We will bathe the smell of me off you. I wouldn’t want your uncle to kill me before he believes that we’re married.”
“Leave the smell of me on your flesh.”
He shuddered at her words and came into her again.
“We must sleep soon,” Merrik said when his heart had once again slowed. He rolled onto his back, Laren pressed against his side.
“Aye,” she said, and kissed his chest.
“I cannot stop thinking of my brother. He was so very alive, Laren. He loved life, he wanted everything he could get from it. You saw him acting the bastard, unfair and arrogant. But I knew him before.”
“Did he change so much?”
“Aye, I believe he must have chafed sorely against my father’s authority, for my father was master of Malverne and none other, even his eldest son who was his heir to Malverne. After my father’s death, he gained too much power too quickly. Aye, it changed him, made him unmindful of others, made him unwise in his arrogance. There was no one like my father there to temper his vanity.”
“He hurt Sarla very much.”
“I saw the bruises on her face. That wasn’t well done of him. She is a gentle girl, kind and giving. Still, to die in such a way, I would have wished it otherwise.”
“Deglin is dead, and that is something.”
“Aye,” he said, kissed her forehead, and pressed her cheek against his shoulder.
Weland, Duke Rollo’s first lieutenant, a man who had been at Rollo’s right hand since they’d both been boys, a man so strong he could pull a sapling oak from the ground, was grinning like a hyena.
“I have a great surprise for you, sire, a very great surprise.”
Prince Rollo, as he was called by his people, even though his lands were called a duchy and thus he was only a duke by grant of the French king, was taller than any sapling Weland could pull from the ground. He turned his dark eyes on his man and said, “Aye, Weland, what is it this time? You bring me a Nubian maid to warm my old bones? Mayhap a magic potion to stop the grinding pain in my joints? A stallion tall enough so my feet don’t drag the ground?”
“Nay, sire, I bring you a gift beyond any weight of silver. Laren has come back.”
Rollo just stared at Weland. “You jest,” he said at last. “She and Taby are dead, long dead. I forgive you most things, Weland, but this is too much. Do not trifle with me.”
Weland just shook his head, still smiling like a fool, and called out, “Bring them in!”
Rollo saw only the slender girl with her glorious red hair, nearly curling to her shoulders, the way he’d always liked her to wear it when she was younger. He’d hated her braids because they’d dimmed the beautiful color, the exact same shade as his older brother Hallad’s hair. She was too slender, he saw as she walked closer, ah, but she’d become a beauty, and more than that, there was more of life in her eyes, and more shadows, but there was also joy and confidence that the child had lacked. She was gowned beautifully in a soft blue linen that was belted at her waist. She wore finely wrought silver brooches and silver armlets. She was almost
of his loins, this graceful creature, and now she was here, alive, with a man striding beside her.
He said her name softly, just the saying of it making her real, very real. He rose, towering over even the back of his throne.
“Laren!”
His shout reverberated throughout the chamber, and she laughed aloud and ran to him, and he caught her up in his arms, lifting her high off the floor, and squeezing her and laughing with her now.
“By the gods, you’re taller,” he said, and kissed her on both cheeks, back and forth, squeezing until she groaned with the force of his strength.
“I am home, uncle,” she said. “Ah, you are still so very handsome. The two years are as nothing with you, my lord. You haven’t Weland’s grizzled gray hair. I am also pleased you have not grown taller, bless the gods.”
He lowered her to the floor, and just held her hand, then pushed her a little bit farther away from him, and continued to stare down at her. “You are the same yet you have changed more than I can begin to imagine.”
“Aye, it’s true.”
Suddenly his eyes clouded. She knew he was thinking about Taby but was afraid to hear that he was dead. She said quickly, “My lord, Taby is well and healthy and safe.”
“Ah,” Rollo said and raised his voice heavenward. “I will make sacrifices to all the gods, even the Christian God. We searched everywhere for you and Taby. Your cousin William led scores of men throughout the countryside and even into Paris. There was no trace of you. Tell me, Laren, tell me what happened to you.”
“I will, my lord. First you will meet the man who saved both Taby and me, the man who is now my husband. He is the master of Malverne, a wealthy farmstead in Vestfold, and his name is Merrik Haraldsson.”
Weland said, “Go to His Highness, Merrik.”
Merrik walked slowly to the mighty Rollo, a man he’d heard unbelievable tales about all his life. Now this man was of his family, this man whose legs were so long Merrik imagined that he would need a horse at least seventeen hands high to keep his feet from touching the ground. It was said he walked most places, his men riding beside him. That would be a sight indeed, Merrik thought. Ah, but his was a royal bearing, even though the years had dragged a few strands of white through his dark hair and etched lines in his cheeks and forehead. But his eyes, dark as midnight, were bright with intelligence and, Merrik saw with some surprise, with humor. He had all his teeth and his jaw was firm and stubborn. A man to reckon with.
“My lord,” he said, coming to a halt in front of Rollo. He would not bow. A Viking bowed to no man.
“You saved Laren and Taby.”
“Aye. I was in Kiev and found them both at the Khagan-Rus slave market.”
“Slave market!”
Laren laid her hand lightly on her uncle’s richly embroidered woolen sleeve. “It is a very long story, my lord. Quickly put, Taby and I were abducted from my bed two years ago and sold as slaves south in the Piedmont. We have lived as slaves ever since.”
Rollo just stared at her.
“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.”
When Laren had finished, Rollo said, “Send him to me. I will see that he never wants again in his life.”
“He is now free,” Merrik said. “He told me that he wanted to stay in Norway.”
Rollo frowned at that, for in his long experience any man offered a chance to come to him would have murdered his own brother to gain it. He said, “He doesn’t know yet what I have to offer him.”
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