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“If you were closer you’d feel how hard my sex is. It means nothing, Princess. I’m a man and a man is always ready to bed a comely woman. It’s no more than that.” Then his hands were on her wrists and he was gently pushing her away from him.
He stepped back from her. “Merrik, his men, and I are taking Ragnor, Kerek, and Torric back to York. It should only take five days, no longer than eight days, depending on the weather, depending on things I can’t begin to think of. When we return then we’ll go to Rouen. In the meantime you will begin your monthly flow. I don’t think you’re pregnant. After all, you don’t want to bear Ragnor’s child. No, I feel that you are just being stubborn. You refuse to obey your father’s wishes and thus this is how you go about gaining your own way. If you refuse to wed William, I will return you to Sitric.”
“But didn’t you hear me? I’m not a princess.”
He shrugged. “I said it before and it’s true. Since you are the King of Ireland’s daughter you are thus a princess. You could have left Ragnor in here and told him that. He could have told the world. It makes no difference. Now, we’re leaving in the morning. I bid you good night, Princess.”
She stared after him. He felt he had to keep his word, both to her father and to Duke Rollo. She had to come up with a good reason why it was no longer so important. But it was much more than that. The woman he’d loved had tried to murder him. Surely that would make a man wary of women. She realized that she had to prove herself to him, prove to him that he could trust her, prove that he was safe with her, that he would have her loyalty forever.
But what if he really didn’t want her? But she didn’t believe that was true. She wouldn’t allow it to be true. All had seen him become as ferocious as a berserker those times she was attacked. She supposed she had to tell him the truth. Not only wasn’t she a princess, she was also still a virgin. By Thor’s hammer, she could just see his face when she told him that. She realized that she’d dug a very large hole at her feet and she was fast slipping into it. It had seemed such an excellent idea at the time. After all, if she wasn’t a virgin then William wouldn’t want her, thus she was free, she could have Cleve and surely, when at last he came to her, her virginity would have pleased him.
Now she knew it wouldn’t. He would know she’d lied. He would believe she was no better than Sarla, that wretched bitch Chessa wished were here right now, right this instant. Surely she’d kill Sarla for what she’d done to Cleve. She wondered how much more there was to the story than the bare bones she’d been told. Probably a lot more.
Merrik, Cleve, and all twenty of the Malverne men left the following dawn. All the Hawkfell Island men and women were there to see them off. Chessa, Laren, and Mirana stood close together on the dock as the men loaded the warship with provisions. Entti handed Merrik a large skin filled with ale, saying, “This isn’t intended for Ragnor’s gullet. It’s for the first night you’re sailing from York, having rid yourself of thes
e three.”
Old Alna was there to say good-bye to her Captain Torric. She patted his bound wrists and cackled. “Aye, my pretty boy, you would have fought to have me. I was more beautiful than those young twittering crows who stand here with me.”
Captain Torric said, “But Alna, if you were ever that beautiful, then it would have been my grandfather to have fought to have you and perhaps then I would have been your grandson.”
She cuffed his ear, then cackled. “You keep that leg straight, Captain, it will heal faster, and take this potion.” She handed him a small vial. “If you weren’t leaving, my pretty boy, I’d give you another vial and it would be a love potion and you would fall in love with your grandmother.” She laughed and laughed, and Captain Torric looked desperately toward Merrik, who just grinned and said, “ Consider Old Alna a gift from the gods, Torric.”
Laren smiled at her husband, but didn’t say anything. She’d already told him ten times to keep a keen eye, for she didn’t trust Ragnor at all. As for Kerek, he was even a greater danger, for he was obsessed with having Chessa for Ragnor, for the Danelaw.
Cleve said nothing to Chessa, but stood off to the side, speaking to his daughter. He kissed her, set her down, and told her to go to her aunt Laren.
He waved at her, and the men shoved off. Within minutes, the bright blue-and-white striped wadmal sail was but a dot in the distance. The Hawkfell men gathered up their weapons, their tools, and took themselves off to hunt.
“Look at the pinwheels,” Mirana said. “They’re fighting with the gulls. I find them fascinating. They soar and dive and drive the other birds wild.”
Chessa looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“Forgive me, Chessa, but I’ve always had a fondness for birds, but it doesn’t mean I don’t know what you’re feeling.” She sighed.
“You’re not a damned princess like I am,” Chessa said. “How could you begin to know what I feel?”
Mirana laughed. “That’s better. Cleve will return and then we’ll see.”
Chessa looked at all the women’s faces surrounding her. “Oh, dear,” she said. “There’s something else I’m not.”
Mirana stared fixedly at two curlews who were racing away from a spraying wave. “I don’t think I want to know.”
“I’m not pregnant.”
“You began your monthly flow?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t matter. It’s worse than that.”
“What is this?” Laren asked as she came upon the two of them.
“She started her monthly flow,” Mirana said. “She isn’t pregnant with Ragnor’s child.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters,” Laren said. “When at last you have Cleve for your husband, you won’t have to worry that you carry Ragnor’s child.”
Chessa looked from Mirana to Laren and to the other women who were clustered close. She said on a miserable sigh, “I’m a virgin. I lied. I hoped no one would expect me to go to William if I wasn’t pure. I was wrong.”
