She was silent, only her fingers closing and opening in his hand telling him that she was nervous. They were waiting behind Rollo’s throne in a small chamber hidden from the huge outer hall by a long scarlet hanging.
They could hear men’s and women’s voices, the curiosity, the questions, the speculation.
“I’ve never before seen such richness,” Merrik said. Again, he felt that curious lack, and immediately felt disgusted with himself.
She nodded, distracted.
He smiled, shaking his head. She’d been a slave, then his wife, and now she was returned to her opulent beginnings. But it didn’t seem to matter one whit to her.
They stilled. Rollo spoke in a rolling deep voice that brought everyone to immediate and instant silence.
“I asked you here to announce the return of my niece Laren, daughter of my older brother Hallad of Eldjarn.”
There was pandemonium, then the scarlet drapery was pulled aside and they stepped forward to stand beside Rollo.
Then voices were saying, “It is Laren, just look at that red hair!”
“She’s a woman now. How old was she when she disappeared?”
“Nay, ’tis a girl who just looks like Laren, she isn’t here. Laren is long dead. Whoever took her killed her.”
“Aye, ’twas the earl of Orkney, the vicious sod, who took her and Taby.”
Rollo held up his hand. “My niece. Welcome her.”
Laren looked out over the assembly of people, most of whom she’d known all her life, and said, “I am home again. I see you there, Mimeric, do you still play the lute like one of the Christian angels? And you, Dorsun, do you still shoot your bow as far as before? I remember you nicked the wing of a bird some four years ago, and the bird was in flight. Ah, and Edell, you have gained flesh, my old friend. I remember that you liked overmuch the honeyed bread the cooks gave you when no one was looking. All you had to do was smile at them, and they gave you whatever you wanted.”
She paused then and waited. Merrik watched the people’s faces change from disbelief to uncertainty to astonishment. There was a deep rumble then bursting calls of “Laren! Laren!”
Rollo allowed the fiftysome people to continue in their calling and yelling for some more minutes. Then he raised his hand. The hall was instantly silent again.
“My nephew Taby is not here. He was but a babe when he was abducted and all know that a babe, even well tended and protected, cannot always survive. But do not fall into grief. There has been too much pain already.” Rollo turned to Merrik, and drew him forward. “This is Laren’s husband, Merrik Haraldsson of Norway, cousin to King Harald Fairhair. I have known of him now for some time. Now he is here, for I bade him come and take his place.”
Merrik grinned down at her, saying quietly, “I am a distant cousin, ’tis not all fabrication. Of course, many in Norway are distant cousins to just about everyone else.”
“Here is the man who will rule if my son William Longsword dies before he produces an heir. Welcome Merrik Haraldsson!”
It was baldly said, no easing into it, no smooth explanation or justification, just Rollo booming out his announcement in his smooth deep voice. Even Laren sucked in her breath, and she’d known what he was going to do. The shock was clear on every face in the huge outer hall.
“Good,” Merrik said to her with relish. “Now I am the one who is the threat, not you.”
“I don’t like this,” she said again, and not for the first time since the preceding evening when Merrik had given his plan to Rollo. “It is not your place, Merrik, to throw yourself into such danger. Look at everyone. They don’t know what to do. It is a shock beyond what they’ve ever known. Where are Helga and Ferlain?”
She’d argued with him endlessly and he’d listened and nodded, but never wavered. Now he only smiled at her, still staring out at all the faces staring back at him in blank consternation. “They will show themselves in due course. As for the others, I will play the valiant hero, and show them as much ruthlessness as they are used to seeing in Rollo, and show them that I seethe with honor, so much honor that I can barely hold up my head with the surfeit. Perhaps Rollo will come to admire me so very much, he will beg me to remain in Normandy and rule beside him, then beside William. What do you think?”
“I think you are mad.”
“Mad, am I? Do you not believe I can be an heir to Normandy to everyone’s satisfaction? Do you not believe me skilled enough to persuade all the people to believe in me?”
“Aye, you know that you can. In that, you are mad.”
“Will this madness continue in our children, do you think?”
She stared up at him, for the moment, all else forgotten. “I don’t know of such things,” she said.
“You have not had your woman’s bleeding since I first came to you.”
She turned as pale as the white of her undershift.
