Slowly Varrick lowered the knife. He slipped it back into his belt. He said nothing for a very long time. Then he said in that calm deep voice, “Chessa is a woman, a woman just like any other woman. I don’t want her. Why would I want her? She’s your wife. Aye, she’s naught but a simple woman. She does as she’s told. Watch, Cleve.” He said to his wife, “Argana, fetch me a cup of mead. I’m thirsty.”
Argana said nothing, merely turned and walked toward the huge barrel that held Kinloch’s mead. The men, women, and children parted for her, as would two parts of cloth rent apart.
He waited for her to return.
Cleve said, “You will answer me. What would you have done? Murdered me, your son?”
Varrick merely waved his hand, waiting until Argana handed him a silver cup of mead. Cleve wondered from whom he’d stolen it. He watched his father drink deep, then toss the silver cup to one of his men, who caught it deftly, then wiped his mouth with the back of his flawless white hand.
“Answer me,” Cleve said.
Varrick said very quietly, “What you say, Cleve, is painful to me. I am your father. I don’t wish to kill Athol because he is also my son. I believe the mother to be the one to have incited him to this treacherous deed. I sought only to punish the guilty one. What you have said wounds me deeply. You must believe me that I don’t want your wife. I don’t know where you got such an idea.”
Cleve waved his words aside. “You would have killed her if not for Chessa.”
Varrick then turned his eyes to her. “Why, Princess? Why did you save her? I believe her guilty. Surely you have your doubts, do you not?”
Chessa just shook her head at him in disgust. “You weren’t there, Varrick. You didn’t see what Athol did. You didn’t hear what he said. He is like a mangy dog, blaming us for his fleas. He is unworthy of you as a father or of Cleve as a half brother. You won’t harm Argana.”
“She’s right, Lord Varrick,” Igmal said, stepping forward. “It is just as I told you. Athol doesn’t deserve any leniency from you.”
Chessa said, “Do as you will with Athol, but you won’t harm Argana, ever.” She looked at Cleve, saw him nod, and took his hand. He drew her against his side.
Varrick smiled, then laughed, a rusty sound, deep and frightening, for he hadn’t laughed in so very long. All his people stared at him, but they held themselves quiet, saying nothing, not moving. Chessa believed she could smell their fear. That was it, the stillness in this great hall. It was the air, dark and heavy, weighing down on them. It was filled with year upon year of fear.
“You think, you foolish woman, to prevent me from doing whatever I wish to do?”
Chessa dropped Cleve’s hand, and calmly strode up onto the dais to stand in front of him. She looked up at him as if she were looking at an insect that faintly interested her. “If you harm Argana, I will kill you and none will know how I did it. Argana is right. I’m a witch. I am the daughter of Hormuze, the greatest sorcerer who’s ever lived. You said that yourself. You said yourself that as his daughter I carried his magic. Believe it, Varrick. Believe also that Cleve is the only man who will ever have my loyalty. He and Kiri are deep within me, deep within my woman’s soul, my witch’s soul. No one will harm either of them, or he will die.” She didn’t turn from Varrick, merely said louder, “You hear what I said, Athol? I pray so, for if you try anything, I will see you dead before the dropping of the sun into the western sea. Don’t doubt me. Men have before and they’ve paid for it.”
She didn’t wait for Varrick to speak, merely turned on her heel, and walked away from him, stepping down from the dais and walking directly to her husband. When she was close to Cleve, she looked up at him, smiled, and winked.
Cleve just stared down at her for the longest time. He knew no one else had seen that wink, just him. He said finally, his voice low and deep, “Now I understand exactly what Kerek meant. But heed me, Chessa, you play with things you don’t understand. It frightens me and angers me. You will take care and you will act only when it is necessary, only when I am not present—”
He broke off, shaking his head, for she’d been in the right of it. He’d been gone. She’d been alone and she’d acted. She’d done exactly what he would have done. “Damnation, what is a man to do with a woman who could have led soldiers into battle against the Romans?”
“That is Kerek’s nonsense and you well know it.”
“Do I?” he said. “I wonder.” He added very quietly, “I suppose I shall just have to keep you close to me. I suppose I shall just have to love you. Will you accept that?”
She stared up at him. She’d wanted these words from him for so very long. She said only, “Aye, I’ll accept that, husband, just as I accept you, forever.”
Three days passed without incident. Athol gave all of them a wide berth. As for Argana, she said nothing at all to Chessa, but since she’d never said anything in any case, nothing had changed. As for Cayman, she seemed more beautiful as each day passed, her flesh glowing, her eyes brighter than the gleam of the noonday sun. It was odd, but it was so, and she too remained silent.
Ah, but Varrick. He held himself apart from all except Cleve. It was as if he knew if he didn’t make Cleve trust him, he would lose everything.
On the fourth day, Merrik said to Cleve and Chessa as they walked along the narrow path beside the loch, “Laren and I begin to believe we should return to Malverne. The men are restless. No, I will be honest with you. They are afraid of this place, of this monster Lord Varrick calls Caldon. They don’t want to leave you here, Cleve, but they are afraid.”
Cleve looked at Laren, who was looking over the loch, searching for the monster, he knew. She spent all her time studying the loch at different times of day, searching, always searching.
Merrik said, “She wants to see the monster again. She remembers it vividly from that day of the attack, but she says it isn’t enough. She wants it to come to her so she may speak to it. She will weave a skald’s tale that will last until more generations than we can imagine believe in this monster and search for it as she does. She tries to seduce the beast from the depths of the loch.”
“I saw the monster just yesterday,” Kiri said, and everyone stopped and stared down at her. She was holding a piece of bright purple heather, sniffing it, and nodding up at them. “Caldon isn’t a monster. Igmal is right. Caldon is a mother and she has many children, just like my two papas will have. She came to me and smiled. She has a very long neck, but she can bend it low enough so I can see her face. I told her that Lord Varrick isn’t like my papas. I don’t think she wants to come when he calls to her. She looked sad. She made me feel that there is something even beyond her that beckons her to him. Then she just sank beneath the water and I didn’t see her again.”
Cleve stared down at his daughter, wondering if this story was real, knowing that it couldn’t be, yet pleased that Kiri could tell such a splendid tale. Perhaps she had skald’s blood in her as did Laren.
Laren said, “Kiri, you will tell me everything before you go to sleep tonight, all right?”
“Yes, Aunt,” Kiri said, and skipped away to break off more heather, as purple as the bruise on Chessa’s upper thigh from Cleve’s loving the previous night.
