The following afternoon, Baric, Isla at his side, gave Ragnor another lesson on a new harp and taught him another love poem.
“I don’t want to learn another love poem,” Ragnor said. “I’m to marry the princess tomorrow. Thus I don’t have to lie to her, quoting any more of your silly poems. Besides, I won’t see her again until the moment she’s to agree to be my wife. My mother has her hidden away so she won’t try to do something stupid. I hope my mother forgets where she hid the princess, but I know she won’t. She never forgets anything.”
Isla said easily, looking at Ragnor as if he were a succulent roasted boar, “Ah, my lord, it’s a pity that you must marry such a bitch. She has no stature, no gratitude for what you offer her. She has no appreciation for your finer qualities. I still don’t understand why she must be forced. It makes no sense.”
Baric strummed on the harp, humming, looking down at his shoes.
Ragnor shrugged. “I don’t understand it either. She claims she loves another man, but how could that be possible? She’s seen me, surely that is enough. Once she liked me, but then she changed, for no reason I can think of other than that I tried to seduce her and she didn’t want to succumb. She’s stubborn.” He sighed deeply. “I think she’s just like my mother.”
“The queen appears properly cowed by the king. You will deal with the princess in just the same way.”
“Ha,” Ragnor said. “You don’t know my mother, Isla. You don’t understand.”
“Would you like some of my mead, my lord? I thought of you whilst I brewed it. It tastes rich and dark, just like a woman should taste. Just like I taste. That bitch probably tastes like goat weed.”
Ragnor felt saliva pool in his mouth. He watched Isla draw another goatskin from beneath her gown. He stared at her big breasts. He didn’t like all the cosmetics she wore on her face, but she’d probably had a disease when she’d been a child and thus her face was badly pocked. As for the patch over her eye, he didn’t care about that either. It wasn’t important. Her mead was important. Her worship of him was important as were those big breasts of hers.
He drank deeply, knowing she was smiling at him. He wiped his mouth and said, “Your mead is better than Utta’s. Will you bed with me after I am married to Chessa? Will you continue to make me mead?”
“I will think about it. You know, Ragnor, mayhap you need a woman who isn’t at all like your mother to tell this silly princess how very lucky she is. Mayhap I should visit her. I would make her see reason. I would make her appreciate how blessed she is, how honored she is that you will take her to wife. Mayhap she isn’t really pregnant with this other man’s child. Mayhap it is just another ploy, and this Kerek is quite wrong. I could get her to tell me the truth.”
“If my mother couldn’t succeed with her, then no one could, even you. Even my mother was forced to drug her. I doubt she’s even awake.”
Isla shrugged and poured Ragnor more mead. “I could see. There would be no harm done.”
“I will think about it. Baric, I want to drink my mead. I don’t want to learn any more of those silly poems. I wish to gaze upon Isla whilst I drink. Mayhap she will rub my forehead. You may play for us.”
“Aye, my lord,” Baric said, his eyes still on his shoes, thankful his beard covered his face.
“Do you taste rich and dark, Isla?”
“No woman could taste richer and darker than I do, my lord. I’m filled with richness, deep within me.”
“I don’t understand that.”
“I don’t either, my lord, but I like the sound of it.”
Baric sang louder, his smooth voice filling the chamber.
“More mead, my lord?”
“I feel very tired, Isla. Very tired indeed.”
“Then rest. That’s right, just lay your royal head on my lap and rest. Good.”
Ragnor began snoring. Isla looked over at the guards who stood at the doorways. They looked bored.
“Your song is exquisite, Baric. I believe you’ve put the prince to sleep.”
“I know. But I’ve a need to relieve myself. Would you like me to carry Ragnor out of here?”
“It suppose it wouldn’t look good for me to do it.”
“You carry my harp, nothing more. I would fear your breasts just might fall to the floor.”
16
CLEVE ROSE ASKerek came into Baric’s small chamber, given to Baric by Olric some five years before.
