Lord of Falcon Ridge

by Catherine Coulter

  The king was swallowing from another gem-encrusted goblet held for him by his other concubine, evidently a different drink, for there were now three goblets set in front of him.

  “She wanted me. Utta wanted me. She desired me. She gave me her precious mead to drink. Aye, Father, she would have come with me if it weren’t for the men.”

  Chessa said in a clear loud voice, “Utta thought you were a fool and a dolt. She kept you drinking her mead so you would be too drunk to cause trouble. She failed, but she did try.”

  There was complete silence at the table. The slaves and the concubines froze. A chewed bite of beef was held two inches from the king’s mouth. He stared at Chessa.

  Ragnor leapt to his feet, his face mottled with rage. He shook his fist at her, yelling, “Damn you, Chessa. You’re nothing now. You’re in my power and you’ll do as I tell you. I’ll beat you if I wish. You will show me respect and obeisance.”

  “I never did before. Why should I begin now? You deserve respect and obeisance as much as I deserve to be wedded to a pathetic worm like you.”

  She heard Kerek draw in his breath. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but her life was in the balance.

  Ragnor jumped onto the table, hurling himself at her. It was so unexpected, the concubine screamed and her chewed bite of beef fell to the floor. Kerek hurled himself out of his chair, jerked Chessa back, and held himself in line for Ragnor’s attack.

  Ragnor thudded against him, his hands gouging into Kerek’s throat. Kerek grabbed Ragnor’s upper arms, but it wouldn’t be enough. Ragnor had more leverage. Chessa grabbed her eating knife, a beautiful silver piece, and stabbed it into the back of Ragnor’s hand. He screamed, fell away, and slid to the floor, his clothing smeared with cabbage, peas, and apples baked in honey. A platter of boar steaks tilted on the edge of the table and fell, splattering Ragnor’s chin and chest with gravy and fat.

  Ragnor was on his hands and knees, his hand fiery with pain, so humiliated he could scarcely think. He knew in that moment he would kill her. As soon as he rose, he would kill her.

  Then, to his shock, he heard a hoarse sound. He looked up to see his father leaning back in his chair. His head was thrown back. He was laughing. He hadn’t heard his father laugh for as long as he’d been old enough to know what a laugh was. Then his father was howling with laughter. His toothless mouth was gaping open, his hands were holding his fat belly. The concubines were fluttering about him, not knowing what to do. The guards came forward, but they just stared, their swords at their sides. Chessa didn’t move, nor did Kerek, who just stared in astonishment at the king.

  “What is this, Olric? You look ridiculous. Why are you laughing?”

  “It’s the queen,” Kerek said, and quickly bowed to the lady who stood not three feet away from them, looking from her son to her husband. She was dressed in a gown more beautiful than any Sira owned, all embroidered with gold thread in intricate designs of birds and flowers against the soft white wool material. Her hair was braided atop her head, thick braids that were still blond, threaded with strands of white. Her face was thin and beautiful. Ragnor had the look of her. She didn’t look at all submissive. She didn’t look at all as if she were this fat old man’s prisoner.

  “Madam,” Kerek said. “This is the princess of Ireland, here to marry Prince Ragnor.”

  Chessa straightened to her full height. She was just as tall as the queen, and she was grateful for that.

  “At least you’re no whimpering little fool,” Turella said. “I am from the House of Tur, in the Bulgar. A mighty kingdom, one that makes the Danelaw look like the remains of a feast. You may kiss my hand.”

  Chessa lifted a beautiful white hand and kissed it.

  The queen said, “Get up, Ragnor. Your father has stopped laughing and now you will stop mewling. Try to be a man. Get up and sit down.”

  “But she attacked me, Mother. Look at my hand, she stuck me with a knife. I will punish her. I will have my men hold her and I will whip her.”

  “You are a man. If you wish to whip her then you will do it by yourself.” She said to Chessa, “He looks like me, thus I cannot claim that my own child was taken away from me at birth and he put in its place. Give me some wine, Kerek.”

  The queen then sat herself at the far end of the table. The king hadn’t said a word. His laughter had dried up slowly, like raisins in the sun.

  “I heard that you were here now and wanted to have a look at you. Also, I am always about for meals, though I avoid one in this chamber. What did you do to make the king laugh? He’s had no laughter in him for twenty years. I had hoped you would be through eating, but you aren’t. I see that most of the food is on the floor.” She snapped her fingers and Chessa noticed three men who were standing around her chair. She spoke to them and they nodded.

  Her own guard? Chessa wondered. She said aloud, “Why didn’t you dine with us, madam?”

  The queen laughed, a soft musical laugh that was really quite nice. “I haven’t eaten at the same table with the king since he lost all his teeth. You see, I refused to chew his food for him.”

  “Oh,” Chessa said. “I think I would have refused also.”

  “I have been told that your father was once an old man like Olric here. All the skalds sing of his transformation brought about by a sorcerer named Hormuze. What do you know of this? You are the Hormuze’s child, are you not?”

  “Yes, madam. You see I’m not really a princess at all. The king in his gratitude took me in and treated me like a daughter. My own father Hormuze disappeared, fading like shadows into his own wizardry, into a realm that none of us would understand.”

  “This is nonsense,” the queen said. “Olric, you know she’s not a real princess. Why is she here?”

  “I wish I had allowed both Ragnor and Kerek to hear me tell all the people at Hawkfell Island that I’m no princess. I have no royal blood. Hear me, Ragnor? Kerek? I am nothing but a simple woman. Release me now.”

  “She is a princess in the eyes of the world, madam,” Kerek said. “Didn’t you know that Duke Rollo wants her for his son, William Longsword?”

  “He wouldn’t want me now, Kerek.”

  “You’re wrong, Princess. You are still the king of Ireland’s daughter, regardless of your true kinship to him.”

  “That is something to think about,” the queen said, and drank deeply from a goblet of wine one of the three men placed in front of her. “You didn’t poison this wine, did you?” she said to the king, who was contentedly eating a bowl filled with smashed honeyed pears.

  “No, it isn’t poisoned, not unless someone else did it. I didn’t expect you, so the wine is safe. She’ll be a good breeder,” the king said, looking over at Chessa.

  “He felt her, Mother, he rubbed his hands on her belly and on her hips. He pressed his mouth against her breasts. She’s to marry me, not him. She let him do it. If I’d demanded to do it she would have killed me.”

  “Aye, Ragnor, hold your tongue now.”

  The king pointed to a boar steak that teetered just over the edge of the platter on the floor. “I want it,” he said to a concubine, who immediately picked it off the platter, cut it, and popped it into her mouth. Chessa looked away before she could lay the chewed up mess on the king’s tongue. So did the queen.

  The queen said as she rose, “Have your hand bandaged, Ragnor. There is blood on the turnips. It is fortunate that I don’t like turnips. Princess, I will see you in the morning. You won’t try to leave the palace.”

  She swept from the chamber, the three guards at her heels. The king grunted, then smacked his lips. “Another bite of the roasted boar,” he said to the concubine.

  Kerek said, “Princess, I will see you to your chamber.”

  The king called after them, “You will come to me before you see the queen. Forget not that I am the king. I rule. Ragnor, see to your hand.”

  Chessa drew a deep breath once they’d left the dining chamber. “This is all very strange, Kerek.
”

  “Aye,” he said. “You see now how badly you’re needed. The Saxon kings will overrun the Danelaw if Ragnor comes to the throne.”

  “I hope the Saxons may serve Ragnor’s head up on a platter, just like those boar steaks.”

  Kerek looked pained, but he said nothing more. He bid her good night at the door of her chamber, then spoke quietly to the two guards who were outside.

  Chessa settled in the box bed, pulled a soft fox fur to her chin, and prepared to think. “Ingurd? Are you still here? You may leave me now.”

  The young girl was standing there twisting her hands together. “But Kerek said I wasn’t to leave you. He said I was to be reverent but I was to stay as close as a shadow. He even said that I—”

  “Very well, where will you sleep? No, not on the floor. Have a guard bring you a pallet.”

  Ingurd’s mouth gaped. A pallet, something soft between her and the floor. She couldn’t begin to imagine such a thing. But her new mistress was a princess, after all. She supposed that anyone so blessed by the gods could give orders as they pleased. When she eased down on the pallet, the first soft bed she’d known in her short life, she decided the princess wasn’t a bitch as she’d heard Prince Ragnor screaming at Kerek.

  Chessa moved just a bit, feeling the other knife she’d wrapped into a bathing cloth and tucked beneath her pillow. On the morrow, she would somehow fasten it to her leg.

  She pictured Cleve in her mind, his clothes ragged and filthy, his golden hair matted to his head, a scraggly golden beard covering his lean cheeks. He’d smelled very bad. She’d believed him more beautiful than the last time she’d seen him on Hawkfell Island.

  She’d decided on the voyage to York that if she found him alive, she would do whatever she must to make him her husband. She decided he shouldn’t have to live his life without her. He simply didn’t realize yet just how lucky he was.

  Now she was the one held captive. She had to stop thinking about Cleve and how she would make him happier than he probably deserved. She had to come up with a plan.

  She fell asleep with Cleve’s face in her mind. At least Kiri would be all right now. She was with her first papa.

  14

  THERE WERE THREE guards standing in front of the queen’s chamber. Chessa nodded to them, then waited for one of them to open the door. Once she was well inside, the door was again closed.

  The queen had sent for her. Chessa had wanted to come, for the queen’s behavior the previous night had fascinated her, but now that she was here, as commanded, there wasn’t anyone in the large bright chamber. She’d never before seen a chamber so clean, the walls whitewashed so utterly white. There were no smudges, no hints of any dirt at all. There was a small box bed, one chair, a brazier, and a huge trunk sitting at the end of the bed. Nothing else. There were three windows and a narrow door at the back of the chamber. Chessa walked to the door and opened it. It gave onto a small garden closed in by high walls. It was immaculately kept. There were flowers in bloom everywhere. She recognized daffodils and daisies, foxglove, and hyacinth. The water lilies by the small pond in the center of the garden were the most exquisite Chessa had ever seen, white as snowfall in the wilderness, the leaves and pads so green they looked painted. The high stone walls were weathered a soft gray and covered with ivy, pear vines and wild strawberries.

  It was a beautiful place. A serene place. A retreat, a sanctuary. Chessa breathed in a deep breath of the warm morning air.

  “You slept well?”

  She turned to see the queen, now rising, holding a brilliant red rose.

  “Nay, how could I? I don’t want to be here. I want to go home.”

  “You wish to return to Dublin?”

  She shook her head. “My home is with a man named Cleve. Wherever he is, that’s where I want to be.”

  The queen narrowed her eyes against the sun, then motioned Chessa to follow her. In the corner of the garden was a stone bench. Above it was an old pear tree, big limbed and thick.

  The queen held a rose toward her. “Smell the rose. Isn’t it magnificent?”

  She drew in the scent deeply. “It smells like sweet velvet. I have never seen such a color. More red than mere red. No, it’s not a simple red at all.”

  The queen smiled. “I produced it myself. Ah, you don’t understand. That’s all right, none really do, including myself. I try and try and sometimes I succeed. I partially split the seeds of one rose and force it together with the seeds of another color rose or even another variety entirely. This was the result of one of my endeavors.”

  “That’s remarkable. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “As I said, few have. Now you’re looking at me as if I have two heads.”

  “I was wondering where the woman was I met last night. You certainly aren’t she.”

  “Ah, but I am, Princess. I am many women. I have to be to survive.”

  “Please just call me Chessa. I’m no princess. I wish your husband would realize that and let me go.”

  “Chessa, then. He won’t let you go. The woman you met last night, did you believe her to be what you saw?”

  Chessa nodded slowly.

  “That’s good. Sometimes I forget and the king looks at me suspiciously. I see you don’t understand any of this. Kerek told you nothing?”

  “Nothing. Last night you acted like the king was half-witted, that Ragnor was a fool, which he is, and that you deigned not to deal with them. I thought you were half-witted as well. You acted as oddly as the king and Ragnor.”

  The queen patted her hand. “Actually, Kerek convinced me that you are the salvation of the Danelaw. I wondered how that was possible. You are just a young girl, after all. Then I saw you last night. At first I thought you stupid in your silly bravery. You took chances that I would never dream of taking, all to see what would happen, all to test the people who were holding you. And you saved Kerek, a man you should want to kill. He has done you in twice, yet you stuck your knife in Ragnor’s hand to get him off Kerek. I heard that you let the king touch you. You didn’t flinch or shudder and he is a repellent old toad. You again wanted to judge the way he thought, the way he would behave. You were wise. You saw that the king is the one who is dangerous, or he can be, just less and less now that he grows older. He forgets his grievances more and more now. It is a relief. Ragnor is just a sulky little boy. It’s strange, but even Ragnor sometimes shows flashes of brilliance, of charm and intelligence.”

  “You saw what you wanted to see in me, my lady. I am just that young girl, after all, no more, no less. I love another man. I don’t want to be here. I won’t marry Ragnor. I’ve seen these flashes in him but they never last very long.”

  The queen merely smiled at her.

  “My lady,” Chessa said slowly, “who is the true ruler of the Danelaw?”

  “You met him last night. A toothless, foul-breathed, utterly ruthless old man.”

  “Why are there guards at your chamber door? Why are these walls so high? I have been looking for a gate but I haven’t seen one.”

  “I’m a prisoner.”

  Chessa could only stare at her.

  “It’s true that I’m from the House of Tur in the Bulgar. When my father sold me to King Guntrum, who wanted me for his brother, Olric, I fought him with all my will, all my strength, but it did no good. When Olric saw that I hated him, that I would never be submissive, he was infuriated. He raped me repeatedly. After I gave birth to Ragnor, he imprisoned me and thus it has remained. My babe was taken from me and for twenty-one years now I’ve been a prisoner in this chamber and this garden. It was a latrine then and smelled foul. I changed it. I had all the time it required. Over time, I was allowed more and more freedom, but still the guards follow me everywhere.”

  “But you swept into the dining chamber like the queen you are. You insulted the king, your son, and you took charge. I don’t understand. Actually, you acted quite mad.”

  Turella laughed softly. “I told you, Chessa, that Olric
is easily led by anyone stronger than he. I am stronger. It is one of the concessions I have gained. At mealtimes I am free to go where I wish, my guards trailing me always, as I said. I ceased eating my evening meal with him when he lost all his teeth and demanded that I chew his food for him. That was all the truth.

  “Inside my high stone walls, I function in this court as best I can. Kerek is my eyes and ears. He is in everyone’s confidence. The king himself depends on him utterly. Kerek told me that you and I were alike, that you would control Ragnor with ease. After all, I am a prisoner, my chamber is locked, and there are always guards there.”

  Chessa looked about the garden. The sun was bright and the air was sweet, becoming sweeter by the minute as the sun soaked into the blooms. There were two bees dipping into a purple hydrangea. She saw the truth clearly and marveled at the fluency of the woman seated next to her. She looked at Turella and said, “You’re lying to me. Those guards are there to give you warning if someone comes. Those guards are there to hold off people you don’t wish to see. Those guards are there to protect you from the king. Those guards would die for you. You rule here, not that profane old man.”

  “By all the gods,” Turella said. She laughed, a soft deep laugh, then louder, dropping the beautiful rose on the moss-covered ground. “Kerek was indeed right.”

  “No, no, I take it all back. I was wrong. You’re indeed a prisoner and you have no thoughts about anything except your wretched flowers.”

  The queen laughed louder. “By Freya’s power, you’re good, but not good enough, my girl. You can’t correct your mistake so easily. You’re quite right, I do rule the Danelaw, but I rule by stealth and guile. It is difficult and many things slip by me. When the king is dead, you will have an easier time of it. Ragnor needs flattery and more flattery but then he is content. You will do it well. I will help you. Kerek will help you. You must sleep with him to beget a child, but then you can provide him with concubines as I’ve done the king. Weren’t the two young girls last night quite lovely? They’re mute, born that way, thank the gods, and they seem quite happy to do anything the old man wants. They both desire beautiful gowns. I make certain their clothing is envied by all the ladies of the court. Aye, even their loyalty is to me.