“He understands what he must do. You told him that the princess was comely.”
“Aye, she’s comely.”
“Is she submissive?”
“There is a brightness about her.”
“Does that mean submissive?”
“Not exactly, sire, but surely William won’t know disappointment in her. But you didn’t ask me these questions before. The marriage is arranged. Merrik, Laren, and I will remain here until the princess arrives for her marriage. William has asked that we wait.”
“Aye, I know it. Merrik will spend all his time with Taby, Laren will tell me skald’s tales, and you, Cleve? What will you do?”
“I will bask in the brightness of your court, sire.”
“Ah, well, don’t tell me then, what you will really do. Ha, I’ll wager she’s a comely young girl. That’s it, isn’t it?”
It was the truth, but Cleve merely smiled, a sated smile. Her name was Marda, she was buxom and merry, and she pleased him mightily.
“Then you, Merrik, and Laren will travel up the eastern coast of the Danelaw to Scotland. Will you take Kiri with you and that damned cur of hers? Do you need more warriors?”
Cleve nodded. “Kiri and Irek, aye, they’ll come. It will be our home. We don’t have need of more warriors. We will have two warships and forty men. It seems that all Merrik’s men grew bored and testy. All want to trade, mayhap fight and plunder and enjoy new women if they can.”
“Aye, it is a man’s way. Merrik’s warriors are amongst the best. Still, I should like to send some of my own warriors with you. Just a few, Cleve. My captain is Bjarni, a man who is loyal to me and stronger than the oak tree from which I hang scoundrels.” Rollo sat back in his huge throne and rubbed his shaven chin. “I do not like Laren going. She is a woman. She could be harmed. Taby would not like it.”
“She survived for two years as a slave, sire. She is able to see to herself.”
“She is a woman. Women haven’t the strength of men.”
“She is nearly as skilled as I with a knife. ’Tis true Merrik’s sword drags her arm to the ground, but a knife will kill as true as the mightiest blade.”
Rollo grunted, still displeased. “Ah, there was another matter, Cleve.” Rollo paused. “It’s about Ragnor of York.”
“What about him? I was told by Sitric, after I’d offered him a goodly amount of mead, that Ragnor had tried to seduce Chessa, but failed. She was hurt by his lies and Sitric told me that she gave him a purge that had him puking up his innards for several days.”
“She doesn’t sound at all submissive, Cleve.”
“I would say rather, sire, that she was wronged and took her revenge.”
“She should have allowed another to avenge her.”
“Just as Laren should have waited for a warrior to rescue her and Taby?”
“Oh, aye, Cleve, you have your smooth, clever tongue. Your wit tires me.”
“Forgive me, sire. What is it you wished to tell me about Ragnor of York?”
“He has decided he wants the princess. His father has told him that he was a fool to try to deceive her, to seduce her without marrying her first. Ragnor, from the tale you just told me, would probably rather flay the flesh off her back than wed her now. Purged him, did she? Puked up his guts? What did she use?”
“Malle leaves mixed with ginger, something Ragnor likes, she told her father.”
“Did he have his ass bare as well?”
“I don’t know if the malle leaves have that result.”
Rollo laughed, a low rumble, then louder and louder until he threw his head back, striking it against the back of the huge throne. He grunted and leaned forward, allowing one of his bodyguards to rub the back of his head.
“More to the left, near my right ear,” Rollo said as the man massaged his head as gently as he would a babe’s.
