“Did I tell you, Cleve, that William just laughed when I told him I was getting old and I should step down for him? Aye, he laughed and laughed, but he didn’t hit his head. He’s young and thinks ahead.”
“William knows that wisdom and leadership remain constant in a man of your abilities, sire.”
“That sounds like a diplomat’s hollow praise, Cleve.”
“That is what the princess told me. Do I speak with false praise? Say meaningless words? Very well, if it pleases you to hear the truth, I would agree with William. Keep to your place, Duke Rollo, until you can no longer rise from your bed. You have fought hard to gain your place, you have brought prosperity to a land that had been nearly torn asunder by avarice and battle and rapacity. Enjoy your power now, for all men must die. Valhalla might be what one would desire for eternity, but I think I should prefer the joys of the mortal world for as long as I could. Aye, sire, keep your throne and power for a while longer. William doesn’t mind. Your people don’t mind.”
“I raised him well,” Rollo said. “Did you say that the princess insulted you?”
“Aye, she did, said I had a tongue like an adder, a tongue that lolled about spewing honeyed words but said nothing.”
“She sounds difficult, Cleve.”
Cleve just smiled. The princess wasn’t all that difficult. However, William had no heavy hand with a woman, so Cleve imagined that her marriage to him would be pleasant. He wondered what Chessa would think of her father-in-law.
“In any case, I hear that Ragnor wants her. Wants to wed with her. He’s a man, not a boy, all of twenty-one, but he’s a selfish creature, spoiled. I can’t imagine that he would have any kindness for a girl who purged him.” The duke laughed again, this time throwing his head forward. Still, his bodyguard stepped up, ready. “Until she is here in Rouen, we must take care that Ragnor doesn’t take her.”
“I will fetch her myself, sire,” Cleve said, then wondered why he’d said it. He didn’t want to see Chessa again until she was standing beside William before a Christian priest. Then she would be William’s wife and nothing more would matter.
Duke Rollo shook his head. “Actually, I have already sent two warships to Dublin. They should return shortly. Now, where is Laren? I wish to hear a story. She keeps me guessing, what with the queen who was captured by a lord of Bulgar and how she kept him at bay by telling him stories. Aye, Laren is wily. She is sly. She is a good skald.”
“I believe she and Merrik are with Taby. Merrik misses the boy sorely.”
“Aye, I know it, but now he has his own sons. What are their names? I forget such things now.”
“Kendrid and Harald, both the image of their father. They will be men of valor. But it makes no difference. Taby is the son of Merrik’s heart. I hope his own sons will never realize it.”
Duke Rollo rubbed his chin, felt the sagging skin, and frowned. “Nay,” he said, “this princess doesn’t sound at all submissive. Think you that William will have to beat her?”
“If he did I fear he would receive an unwanted and unexpected purge.”
“A woman is submissive when her belly is filled with a babe. William will see to it immediately. Think you she’s a good breeder, Cleve?”
He pictured her in his mind’s eye. Not all that tall, slender waist, full breasts, the size of her hips unclear because of the draped, full-cut gowns she wore. “She seemed of adequate size, sire.” He pictured his hands splayed, nearly meeting around her waist. Then going lower to spread over her belly, letting his fingers span outward. Aye, she was large enough to bear children.
But not William’s children. Not Ragnor’s children.
As he left the duke’s presence Cleve wondered from whence that errant thought had come.
Dublin, Ireland
Court of King Sitric
She’d caught a netful ofglaileyfish and was laughing as she scooped it out of the river Liffey only to have one of them wriggle through the net and fall back into the water. “You escaped me and ’twas well done,” she called to the wildly escaping fish, only a small blur now.
Chessa was alone, Brodan having been escorted back to the palace by two of Sira’s bodyguards. He’d complained, but the bodyguards had their orders. Chessa had told him to go. They’d catchglaileyfish another morning. She loved Brodan. Nearly eight years old, he was bright and loving, like their father, thank Freya’s beneficence, and not at all like that witch, Sira. He was usually a very serious boy, studying with the Christian scholars, dreaming silent dreams whilst he was awake.
But her father wasn’t all that loving.
He’d told her that morning that William had sent two warships to take her to Rouen. She would leave on the morrow.
She’d said, her chin up, for she’d thought and thought about it, “No, Father, I don’t wish to wed with William. I don’t wish to leave Dublin. I don’t wish to marry a man I’ve never met. I won’t do it. Besides, he is nearly your age. I don’t wish to wed my father.”
He’d held to his patience, she recognized the slight stiffening of his shoulders, the pursing of his lips. “Men come in all ages, Chessa. They are still men. As for William, Cleve told me he was only thirty, not old at all.”
“Women come in all ages as well. Let this William marry one who is closer to his age than I am. There are still eleven years between us.”
“He needs a young woman, one to bear him children.”
