Chessa cursed.
They reached Inverness by early afternoon. The weather held mild, the breeze soft and warm against their faces. Kerek bought her a new tunic of saffron and an overtunic of softer yellow, two beautiful brooches from Orkney to fasten the overtunic around her shoulders. He bought a reindeer comb and told the old woman at the bathing hut not only to bathe her but to arrange her hair as well.
“Why?” Chessa said, but Kerek only shook his head. He stayed on guard outside the bathing hut whilst the other men spent their silver coins on what they needed.
It was nearing sunset when Kerek led Chessa and his men out of the trading town, through the palisade gates, down to the dock. “Come, Princess.”
He led her onto a warship whose stem was carved in the shape of a black raven. It was a big ship, and there were at least fifty men on board, standing there, watching them come. One of the men shouted, “It is Kerek! He’s brought her! By the gods, he managed to do it.”
Kerek pulled her up the rough boards that were securely roped together. He gave her a shove and she walked up those boards to the warship. She stepped down and onto the center plank that ran the full length of the ship. There was a covered cargo space at the bow, but it looked larger than any Chessa had seen before, the wadmal cover brightly painted with white and red stripes, just as was the huge rolled sail of the warship.
“You’re a wizard,” Kerek whispered in her ear. “Tell me what you expect.”
She just shook her head. He pushed her gently through the opening into the covered space. There, seated in a beautifully carved chair was Ragnor, holding a pale blue glass in his hand, Turella, standing just behind him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder.
“Welcome, Chessa,” Ragnor said, and he raised his glass, saluted her, and drank deep. He belched even as he grinned at her. “You’re here. I doubted Kerek could do it, for he’s an old man and my mother surely has too much trust in him, but he managed to get you. You’re not very smart, are you, Chessa?”
“You’ve done well, Kerek,” Turella said. “We expected you sooner. I was worried.”
“The Princess has many tricks, my lady. She called forth the monster of Loch Ness and we were forced to shore. We had to walk to Inverness.”
“The monster?” Ragnor said, leaning forward, paling.
“Aye, the monster. It exists.”
“I doubt that not,” Turella said, “but you beat the monster, Kerek. As for the princess, she looks none the worse for her adventure.”
“I had her bathed and newly garbed,” Kerek said. “She is beautiful, sire, is she not?” He would tell Turella all that had happened later, after Chessa and Ragnor were married, when they could finally be alone. He wondered if she would believe it, or just smile at him in that mysterious way of hers.
“Aye, she’s well enough, but she’s still not Utta,” Ragnor said, his first words to her. “This mead is foul.” He threw the empty glass from him and it crashed onto a bare plank and shattered.
Turella sucked in her breath. “That belonged to my mother,” she said. “I brought it from the Bulgar.
“She was an old crone,” Ragnor said. “I remember she hit me when I was a small boy. She only came to York that one time, and she hit me. I will break all of them since I know now where they come from.”
Turella said gently, “Chessa will be your wife, Ragnor. You will wed with her this evening. Kerek has agreed to travel to Hawkfell Island and memorize the way this Utta prepares mead. Then you will have a queen who will breed your heirs, and the mead that suits you so well.”
“I still don’t have Isla,” Ragnor said.
“No, and you never will,” his mother said. She tightened her hand on his shoulder and he winced. “Now, my son, tell the princess that she’s lovely and that you desire above all things to have her for your wife.”
Ragnor looked at Chessa, a sullen look, but then suddenly that looked changed. He stared at her breasts. There was lust in his eyes. Her breasts were fuller now, from the baby, and she saw that he wanted her.
She said loudly, her voice clear and carrying far, “I can’t marry you, Ragnor, no matter how much I would wish to since you’re such a splendid man, since you would give me jewels and splendid clothes, and the gods know that’s what I’ve always wanted in life, but listen, Ragnor, I’m pregnant with Cleve’s child.”
Why had she said it? she wondered, watching Ragnor laugh until he was holding his sides. It was unfortunate that lies always seemed to come back to torment.
Turella said to Kerek, “Will anyone be looking for her?”
“Aye, Cleve will search everywhere for her, but he won’t even consider that we came for her. It would be a mad thought. If he thinks about it, he will dismiss it. Eventually he will have to believe she’s dead, perhaps fallen into that miserable loch and drowned.”
“She is married to Cleve?” Turella said.
“So, the bastard’s still not dead,” Ragnor said, and shouted to one of the men, “Bring me more mead! Pour it into one of the blue glass goblets.”
“Aye,” Chessa said. “I’m married to Cleve. He’s very much alive and he’s returned to his home on Loch Ness. But he’ll come after me. He’ll search for me, not find me, and then he’ll sit down and think. He’ll realize you kidnapped me again and he’ll come to York and kill all of you. He should have killed Ragnor before but he held his own anger in check because he believed the Danelaw should remain in Viking hands as long as possible. Aye, he’ll come for me and all of you will regret it. If you don’t believe that, you’re all fools, you most of all, Turella. You met Cleve. You know the kind of man he is.”
Ragnor looked at his fingernails and frowned at the hangnail on his thumb. “I wanted to kill him, but Kerek, you stopped me, then told my mother to stop me.” He sent his mother a drunken frown. “How do you know Cleve? Surely he didn’t come to you, did he?”
