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Cleve did, then wiped the tip of the knife on his sleeve. “Take me to the princess.”
The queen started to protest but Kerek gently laid his hand on her arm. “You can believe him. He will release Ragnor. He will keep his word. He is that kind of man.”
Chessa lay on her back atop several soft furs in a small storage chamber. Two guards sat near her, rising quickly when the queen came into the room.
“Leave us,” she said.
Cleve dropped to his knees beside Chessa. He shook her gently. “She’s still unconscious. You drugged her yesterday.”
“She will be all right. I planned to lessen the drug tomorrow morning until she was just conscious enough to do as she was told during the marriage ceremony.”
Chessa moaned, but she didn’t awaken.
“Kerek, wrap her up in the furs. You will come with me. When I have her safe on board the warship, then I will tell you where Ragnor is.”
It was quickly done. Cleve’s last view of the queen made him smile. She was tapping her fingers against her temple. She was thinking and planning and plotting. He imagined that some poor girl would soon be in Ragnor’s bed.
They were out of York harbor within an hour.
“I have a gray hair,” Cleve said to Chessa, who was lying still unconscious across his thighs, “and I have known you only a short time. What will I look like when I reach Rorik’s advanced years?”
Rorik laughed as he rowed. “It’s true,” he said over his shoulder, “I’m aged. I am thirty at the beginning of summer. How can you see this gray hair? Your hair is golden.”
Hafter said, “He feels the gray hair, Rorik, and I understand that. Many times Entti will make me so angry I want to strangle her, I can actually feel my own gray hairs pushing to come up through my scalp. Is the princess awake yet, Cleve?”
“No, and it begins to worry me. She’s very pale. Her flesh feels too dry. I was stupid. I should have found out what drug the queen gave her.”
Gunleik said, “Wet a cloth in the water and wipe her face with it. Mayhap it will shock her awake.”
He lightly touched the wet cloth over her dry skin. He smoothed her eyebrows, touched his fingertips to the tip of her nose, and rubbed the cloth over her throat. Her lashes were thick and long. He hadn’t noticed that before. Her mouth should be soft and moist, he’d noticed that, but now her lips were dry and cracked. How could this happen in just one day?
He began to worry when darkness fell that night. He ate the dried herring Hafter handed to him and chewed on flatbread Aslak had bought at the marketplace. She didn’t move. Cleve shook her, slapped her face several times. She still didn’t awaken. Gunleik told him to continue wiping her with the wet cloth.
He carried her to the covered cargo space, laid her gently on several blankets, then stretched out beside her. He picked up her hand. It was small and dry and limp.
He stripped off her clothes and began wiping her with a wet cloth. Still, she didn’t wake up.
It was Gunleik who said just after dawn, “She must not have borne the queen’s potion well. We’ve got to make her wake up. I fear she’ll just fade away from us if she remains unconscious.”
Cleve had felt helpless in his life, many, many times, helpless and impotent, but now it was not just his need to do something to help her, it was necessary for him, she couldn’t die. She was Kiri’s second papa. By all the gods, she was also important to him. He felt fear in his guts. “What are we going to do?”
Gunleik rose. “I’ll get Rorik’s packet of medicines Mirana always sends with him. Perhaps there is something that will help.”
Gunleik was back with a large skin lined with soft linen and holding vials of creams and liquids. Rorik came in behind him. “There is nothing here that can help else I would have said something before.”
“She must wake up,” Cleve said. “She must wake up and see that I’m a man again. She’s been unconscious for nearly two days. She’ll starve to death if she doesn’t awaken.”
“Then we will pull close to shore and you can go overboard with her. Hold her in the cold water. Mayhap that’s what’s needed to shock her awake. Mirana did that once with our little boy, Ivar, and it worked.”
Cleve thought it a crazed idea, but he was desperate.
When they were within feet of the shore, Cleve lifted Chessa, held her tight against him, and jumped into the water with her. They both went under. The water was so cold it shocked the breath from him. He shoved upward, found he could stand on his feet, and kept Chessa close, the water to her neck. He held her there until suddenly she heaved and shuddered, and shoved hard at him, moaning, hitting at his chest.
“You’re killing me,” she yelled, her voice harsh and raw. “I’m dying of cold. Please, Cleve, don’t kill me. I won’t be pregnant anymore with your babe, I swear it.”
He was so relieved, so very happy, he lifted her in his arms and kissed her mouth. “I should have known the moment you woke up you’d talk about my babe. Come, let’s get you dry.”
She looked at the boat, at the men all leaning over the side, all cheering now. “This is strange. You’re no longer Isla. What’s happening? Oh, dear, where is the queen?”
