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From the ruins of your home, he was tempted to say, but restrained himself. “Since we had a choice, need I explain why I decided to arrive at Hrolf’s doorstep in this magnificent ship, rather than upon a less than impressive stallion?” The fact that he would also have a dozen men to assist him should the need arise was a consideration too obvious to merit comment.
Impressed by his serious tone, Celiese responded in kind, “I understand it is important to impress the man favorably. André‘s horses are well into their prime if not past it, but still…”
“But nothing!” he interjected harshly. “You must let me decide how best to deal with Hrolf, and we’ll not argue the matter in front of him either.” He had no intention of riding overland to Rouen when he knew Celiese would attract a large following of devoted peasants. That would impress Hrolf most definitely, but certainly not favorably, as he hoped to do.
“This is my fight, and while I am grateful for your help, I cannot allow you to pursue the cause of the d’Loganvilles alone.”
Looking down at the determined tilt of her chin, Mylan thought only how dangerous a mission they had undertaken and the scant likelihood for success. He was tempted to tie her up and leave her on board the Falcon under heavy guard when they reached Rouen. Should she prove unreasonable when they arrived, he might just do it. “I am not alone, I have the most devoted of wives to assist me.”
Frowning petulantly, Celiese turned away. “Do not tease me with that fantasy yet again.”
Seeing a way to avoid an argument that might have unfortunate ramifications when they reached Rouen, he reached out to turn her back toward him. “What Hrolf understands is strength. A penniless French noblewoman will never impress him, whereas the wife of a wealthy Dane will have considerable bargaining power. If you are truly as devoted to the cause of restoring to the d’Loganvilles what is rightfully theirs, then you will follow my lead.”
She stared into his fierce amber gaze and knew while his plan might succeed she was extremely uneasy with it. Were they truly husband and wife, equals who shared in all things, she would trust his word without question, but that was not the truth of their situation, and it pained her to pretend that it was. It was to her advantage to be reasonable however. “It will do no harm to observe the situation for a day or two, that I will admit. But if Hrolf is anything like Raktor, then I will never be able to trust him, let alone be civil.”
“You need do neither. I will tell him you are an intensely shy and virtuous young woman who prefers privacy to the company of others. The less he sees of you, the better I will like it.”
“Why, Mylan, are you jealous?” She laughed at the absurdity of the prospect and her eyes sparkled with a merry twinkle as she teased him. “Hrolf is the last man in France I would find attractive, don’t you know that?”
Appalled by the mischievous gleam in her eye, he took hold of her shoulders and gave her a firm shake. There were undoubtedly many French noblemen still dwelling in the country whom she would find acceptable as mates, but he had no intention of giving her her freedom. “Jealousy is an emotion we can do without. See you give me no cause for it.”
When he released her, Celiese backed away slowly, sorry he could believe her capable of deliberately provoking his anger with such frivolous behavior. “I don’t even know how to flirt; Mylan. I never had an occasion to practice the feminine wiles young ladies are supposed to affect to impress men.”
She looked so crushed by his warning that he regretted it immediately. “Oh, Celiese, you are so very lovely, you need do no more than smile at a man to capture his heart.”
Preferring the view of the river to his taunting grin, she turned away. She had often smiled at him, but if he had a heart, it most definitely did not belong to her. Believing he had won her silence at last, Mylan left her to see to his other duties, wishing she were as easy to command as the Falcon.
*
High fortress walls surround the city of Rouen, and lookout towers commanded an unobstructed view of the surrounding countryside as well as a considerable distance of the river Seine. The approach of the Surf Falcon was noted when first the red and white sail could be seen, and a runner sent to inquire as to what sort of reception should be extended. Hrolf had no such knarr himself, nor did he expect one to arrive. Exceedingly curious, he told the captain of his guard to ascertain who owned the ship and what his purpose might be, but to do no more than allow the ship to dock. Its passengers were not to be welcomed to the city until he was positive no mischief was afoot. Being the fiercest of raiders himself, he trusted no one, and he suspected everyone of attempting to take from him the prize he had been awarded. He guarded Rouen and all his lands well, and he planned to keep every bit of his territory by whatever ruthless tactics were necessary to hold them.
The docks were filled with dreki, the Danish warships, their graceful lines masking their deadly purpose, and Celiese turned away, sickened by the sight of what the once pretty city had become. A center of commerce in her father’s time, it was now an armed citadel, ringed by ships of the Danes who had decimated the countryside with raids that had, over the years, become repeatedly more barbaric, until nothing remained to be seized but the land itself. Growing pale, she gripped the rail, uncertain that she could meet Hrolf without becoming physically ill. Disgusted by such weakness, she looked up at Mylan, but his expression was both proud and determined, without a trace of the fear that nearly paralyzed her.
“Do you expect to be welcomed here without challenge?” she asked.
“No, not immediately I don’t.” He had also noted the guards upon the battlements and was certain their presence had been noted and reported to Hrolf. “Whenever I have sailed into a new port, whether it was to trade goods or merely to explore, I found patience the best approach. If we were to leap off the Falcon with swords in our hands, our purpose would immediately be misunderstood. However, if we wait for Hrolf to send an emissary, the advantage will already be ours.”
“I have always thought you clever, but if, like Raktor, Hrolf says one thing while plotting another, none of us will be safe.”
Mylan chuckled at her keen observation. “Are we not planning the very same sort of deception, Celiese? I will introduce myself to the duke as merely a prosperous merchant searching for new markets, when, in fact, it is your land we are really after.”
“That the king has made him a duke is ludicrous!” she exploded angrily, livid at the very thought of such a travesty.
“Did I ever mention he also gave him his daughter, Gisela, as a bride? Does that not anger you more?” Since they had met as the result of such an arranged marriage, he expected her to see his point readily.
Celiese’s thick lashes swept her delicate brows as she recalled the princess. “Mylan, I met Gisela, more than once, I think. I was no more than six or seven years old, but it is possible she may recognize me.”
Mylan swore angrily at such an unwanted complication. “I had not even considered that might be a problem. Let us hope the woman has so much on her mind she will not recall a pretty child she met ten years ago. Dressed as you are and by my side, she will think you a Danish princess, not a French one.”
“I am not a princess, Mylan.” She blushed at the word, but she was pleased by his compliment all the same, for there was a great difference between a princess and the lowly slave he had once sworn her to be.
“If you speak French to no one, not even to the servants, the truth of your nationality will not be guessed. You must give Hrolf no cause to be suspicious of us, or we will never succeed in wrenching your estate from his grasp.”
“I have agreed to try your way first,” she reassured him with far more confidence than she felt.
“Do not doubt that it will work, for it will.” Mylan gave the order to drop anchor in the center of the river and leaned back against the rail to wait for whatever welcome they might receive. Celiese wore his silver charm still, and the hope Thor might be willing to assist him in so dangerous a cause amused him greatly. “Hrolf has taken your religion, Celiese. Perhaps you should give that necklace back to me now.”
“You cannot be serious!” she exclaimed.
