“Oh, yes,” Chessa said. “Mirana wants me to search out some plover eggs. I’m taking Kiri. She and I must decide how we’re going to divide up her first papa at night. She’s very smart, you know, Laren. It’s difficult to keep a step ahead of her. I must ask her about Kerzog too.”
“I agree. Too, since Kiri isn’t a man, you will come to agreement very quickly, I doubt it not. What’s this about Kerzog?”
“I don’t know. As you said, Kiri’s a female. Already, she loves mysteries.”
That night after all had eaten roasted herring, rye bread dripping with hot fat from the baked pheasant, and stewed onions and cabbage, and drunk Utta’s mead, Laren stood and cleared her throat. In an instant of time, all were turned to her, leaning toward her, waiting expectantly. Even Kerzog looked alert, which was something, Chessa thought, since he’d eaten more than three starving men.
“I have a story to tell you,” Laren said.
There were cheers and all sat forward even more, the longhouse completely silent. All anticipation.
“This is a story about a man beyond any man, a man who didn’t want it known that he had powers no other man could claim. He was calm and thoughtful, never loud or boisterous. He was looked upon as a kind man, a man who was a good friend, but surely, not a man who could claim such powers, such endurance.
“It came to pass that this man married a woman of extraordinary lineage. He hadn’t wanted to, but she was strong and sure of what she was and what she wanted, and thus it was done. That first night of their union he took her to his bed and mated with her five times before the dawn sent the shadows into mists of the sunlight.”
“Stop this, Laren,” Hafter yelled, tossing down his mead. “I don’t believe it. I have never taken Entti more than three times in a night.”
“It couldn’t be five separate times,” Rorik said. “That isn’t possible. Chessa just doesn’t know how to count things like that properly. She’s mistaken, that’s all. By all the gods’ beards, she was a virgin. How could she know how to figure out anything at all?”
“Yes, I do know,” Chessa called out. “Cleve explained it all to me before we began. He said he would give me more pleasure than any woman had ever had before. He wanted me to be able to compare my pleasure last night with my pleasure in the future. He said he knew I was innocent and thus I might be sore if he was too enthusiastic, thus he said he would go very gently with me until I became more used to him.”
“Cleve lied to her!” Merrik shouted. “He’s very nearly my brother, yet he can lie as well as I can. He learned to lie from me. Don’t believe any of it.”
“I understand now,” Hafter said. “Chessa didn’t drain Cleve the way Entti drains me. She caresses and kisses me and fondles me and then forces me to do that to her. It takes a lot of time, for she is a stern taskmaster. Thus, I’ve never been given the chance to reach my full potential. Whereas Chessa, an innocent despite the number of times she’s been pregnant, knows nothing about the act, and thus Cleve simply kissed her and took her. Mayhap he didn’t even kiss her. There was nothing to it, no soft words, no caressing, nothing that took any time at all. He did it quickly, then rested himself only to do it quickly again. Any man here could do that.”
Laren raised her hands. “Enough now, this is just a tale, a simple tale for your enjoyment.”
Merrik said, “Are you certain you wish to proceed, wife? You’re treading where the gods wouldn’t be seen.”
She nodded, grinning down at her hands. “Five times he loved her and each time was wondrous because this man was a fine lover, giving her all his skill and his caring and speaking soft words to her, telling her how beautiful she was, how she moved him, how her flesh felt to his fingers, to his mouth. He made her pleasure exquisite because he knew that a man’s responsibility was first to his wife. He was a husband that every woman dreams of having. Ah, and he was so gentle with her since she was unused to a man. Each of those five different and separate times left both of them lying in a brief stupor, sated, happy, yet eager for more after but a short time had passed.
“The following day left all the men slack-jawed when they found out how he’d treated his new wife. He, naturally, didn’t say anything, because he wasn’t the kind of man who bragged and carried on about his own greatness. Indeed, he probably believed it just a normal way of things. But his innocent wife spoke of it and why not? She thought that was simply the way things were done as well. The men couldn’t believe it. They couldn’t accept it because none of them had ever managed to achieve such a superior number and done in such a perfect way.
“They didn’t know what to do. Before, they’d all admired him, liked him, called him friend, but now? They looked at him now and saw a man who was more than they. A man who had reached heights other men only dreamed of. And surely men are always dreaming of heights. It is their nature to do so. What should they do? My lord Merrik—my mate, a brave warrior, a man whose choler comes swiftly to the fore then recedes after he’s made the earth shake with his wrath, a man who gives me—”
“Be quiet, Laren,” Merrik said very slowly, very precisely, his eyes burning with a desire to strangle her. “Be quiet or it won’t go well for you.”
“Very well, my lord. I got carried away, actually only the skald part got away, but both of us are back again. Forgive me. I’d always believed you the most perfect of men, the very . . . well, forget about that. Things are different now, what with Cleve’s skills and . . . nay, forget that as well. My lord, please tell us what do you think the men should do.”
Merrik roared to his feet. “Enough of this, Laren. You’re causing mischief and we won’t have it.” He turned to the men, who were all speaking amongst themselves, tempers rising, and he bellowed, “I don’t want to hear more of this, do any of you? It’s nonsense, she’s baiting us and—”
Rorik rose, laid down his mug of ale on the bench, paused a moment, and said, “Well, I would like to know what you think the men should do, Merrik. I really would. That is, you may go first, then the rest of us will tell Laren what is to be done with this man who is so damnably perfect he should be dead, a knife sticking out of his gullet.”
Merrik could only shake his head. “Don’t let her goad you. She’s my wife, I know her. She oils her tongue around her words. She’s dangerous. Listen to me. Cleve is one of us. He is as much my brother as you are, Rorik. If he happens to be able to repeat the act more times than the rest of us, what does it matter?”
“I say hang the bastard,” Haakon said. “Now my Utta will look at me, her mouth all sad, but she won’t tell me that I’ve failed her, maybe not for at least another five years, but then, if she’s too used to me, she will throw up Cleve in my face. I say kill him, cut out his guts. I want to boil his guts and feed them to Kerzog.”
Entti, who held her sleeping son in her arms, rose and said, “Haakon, Utta would never make you feel less a man, even after five years and her being too used to you. None of us would. We are kind. We understand that certain men simply aren’t—well, no matter.” She paused a moment, and looked at Chessa. “I suggest that we end this with a very simple solution. All the women will speak to Chessa and she will tell us what it’s like to have a man with such endurance, such skill, such pride in his work. We will enjoy it through her. We won’t shame any of you. We love you. We are understanding.”
Hafter had turned red. “I’ll kill the damned bastard now.” He rushed at Cleve, his hands raised to go around his throat. Merrik blocked him, and the fighting began.
Cleve jumped onto the table and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Stop it, all of you! Can’t you see the women are just having sport with you? Are you so lackbrained that you don’t understand what Laren’s done to you? And Entti? And all the others, including Utta, who makes the best mead in all the world? It’s all a jest, nothing more. They are laughing at us. I will tell you the truth. Listen to me—I fell asleep. Aye, that’s the absolute truth. I fell asleep with Chessa wide awake beside me. I failed
her. I gave her no pleasure. I rutted her like a stoat and gave her nothing but pain and she was a virgin. Don’t break Haakon’s arm, Gunleik. I’m a failure as a man. I’m nothing but offal on the refuse pile. Believe me, for it’s the truth.” He gave his wife a malignant look, shook his fist at her, and strode from the longhouse. Actually, he stomped from the longhouse, Chessa thought, watching him. She looked up to see Laren wink at her. Why, she thought, Laren was as wicked as she was. It was heartening.
There was utter silence where only the moment before it had been pandemonium.
19
GUNLEIK RELEASED HAAKON’S arm. Hafter stood silently, staring after Cleve. Merrik looked at his wife without a glimmer of affection. Hafter said to Entti, “If you weren’t holding my sleeping son, I would strangle you. You’re dangerous, mayhap more dangerous than those damned Danes and Saxons.”
Rorik cleared his throat. “Chessa, did you lie? Did Cleve truly fall asleep and you were still awake, left wanting? Cold and alone? No love words, nothing at all save his obnoxious snoring?”
She sagged against Rorik’s chair. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed, low racking sobs that brought Kerzog to sit at her feet, his paws scratching against her leg. No one said a word. Mirana would have gone to her, but Rorik held her back. He waited until those pained sobs finally stopped and Kerzog had been patted by Hafter. He said more gently, “Chessa, it’s all right, no one blames you or Cleve, at least not now. Just tell us the truth. Nothing more, just the plain simple truth.”
But she wouldn’t look up at any of them. Her voice was thin and liquid from her crying. “I’m so sorry, Rorik. I didn’t know anything was wrong until this morning when Cleve didn’t kiss me upon awakening. He was ashamed. I didn’t understand why he was ashamed, but he was. He believed he’d failed me. That’s why he acted so strangely. I couldn’t bear that, so I lied since he was ashamed and I wanted to spare him that.”
Rorik said carefully, mindful of each of those dozens of giant boulders in his path, “That’s the truth, Chessa?”
She looked up then, her face flushed with embarrassment, her lower lip quivering. “But he didn’t fail me, Rorik, it’s just that he believed he did. All right, so he only took me three times. I lied about the five times. But he believed he’d failed since he came to me only three times and then he fell asleep and didn’t awaken to love me again, which was what he wanted to do. I’m sorry I lied.”
“Is this the absolute truth, Chessa?” Merrik asked.
She was silent for the longest time. Everyone was silent as well, staring at her, waiting. Anticipation made the air thick. No sound, even from the pets, except Kerzog. He whined, pawing at her foot.
She said in a choking voice, “All right, it isn’t the absolute truth, Merrik. It’s just that—” She stopped, swallowed and continued, “Ah, this is so difficult. It’s embarrassing for me. The fact is that Cleve is very big. When he first bared himself to me I knew it wouldn’t work. I knew he would kill me, his member is so massive. I was afraid. I cried I was so afraid, but he was gentle, despite this huge part of him, and I let him advance. He was kind to me, but his size—” She shuddered, then continued quietly, “I thought I would die, but I didn’t, of course. He took care of me after he’d finished the act. He soothed me and kissed me and told me he would allow me time to heal, but the bleeding was awful. This is why he feels guilty. He hurt me and he despises himself for it. Aye, he fell asleep finally, after seeing to me and assuring himself that I was no longer hurting so badly. He told all of you that he’d fallen asleep. He did this because he didn’t want to embarrass me. I failed him, not the other way around. I failed him because I couldn’t accommodate him. Because I wasn’t as other women. Something’s wrong with me, for I was too small for him. I’ve failed as a wife. He isn’t to blame. I’m the only one to blame here. I only sought to protect him because he is so good and so noble.”
Laren cleared her throat. “Now, my Lord Merrik, do you believe you know all the facts? Are you now satisfied with what Chessa has told you? Very well, what do you think the men should do?”
“Chessa,” Merrik said slowly, aware that everyone of the men were sitting forward, waiting for his words, “just how big is Cleve?”
“What do you mean, my lord?”
“I mean is it length or breadth or what exactly? Or is it that you are simply very small? Are you deformed?”
“I don’t know.” She looked about until she saw a very thick bolt of wood what was a joint in the chain of the pot hanging over the fire pit. She pointed to it. “I suppose the breadth is like that.” She then said very quietly, “And the length? Perhaps it is like that chair post. I couldn’t caress him even with both my hands. To stroke the full length of him took a long time. I failed him.”
“What is the truth, Chessa?” Rorik said. “Did he take you once or three times or five times?”
“Just once because he was so large and hurt me. He was kind though he wanted me again. He was stiff and hard beside me all through the night. I couldn’t sleep because I knew he was in pain and in need, but whenever I told him to do what he wished to do, he refused, saying I had to heal.”
“I think,” Merrik said at last, “that the men should be grateful that Chessa lied. Cleve took her only once. We will all assume that she is smaller than most women. We will assume that she cannot judge either breadth or length. She is a woman, she knows naught of such things. Aye, let’s forget it and remember that Cleve is one of us.”
“I say we should be grateful that Cleve felt such guilt about hurting Chessa that he fell asleep,” Rorik said, and he laughed.
There was arguing, cursing, and some laughter. Entti laughed and Hafter looked at her with lust and murder in his beautiful blue eyes. As for Chessa, she merely smiled down at her toes and said nothing more. She knew the men were turning in circles. She really didn’t care now, she just wanted her husband.
Cleve stood on the ramparts of the palisade. He felt relief when he heard sporadic laughter coming from the longhouse. By all the gods, what had Laren told them now? That he had the skill of a wild dog? The stamina of a girl? He was a laughingstock. All because of his damned wife.
“Cleve?”
He turned to see her staring up at him. The night was bright with a near full moon and a sky full of stars. He saw tear streaks on her cheeks. He forgot his anger at her. “Did they hurt you, Chessa? By the gods, what did they say to you to make you cry?”
That was surely a good sign, she thought. She managed a pitiful smile. She even managed a credibly thin little voice. “I’m all right. I was worried about you. Please come with me, Cleve. I’d like to sleep on the warship. There are blankets on board. We’ll be alone and comfortable.”
“Nay. There’s Kiri.”
“Kiri is sleeping with the other children. I spent time with her today searching for plover eggs. We came to an agreement. She won’t sleep with us unless we ask her to. She did say that she might begin to count sticks though if we didn’t ask her enough times. She’s a very independent little girl, Cleve.”
In his embarrassment, Cleve laughed. “Why the warship?”
“The men are still of an uncertain mood. I think it’s best that they not see you again tonight. They spoke of stripping you naked to see how you’re made.”
“Why would they want to do that?”
“Well, I told them I’d lied. I admitted that it wasn’t really five times or three times because you were so massive you hurt me badly, but you were gentle and kind to me and didn’t take me again as you wanted to. As I was walking out of the longhouse, I heard Rorik say it wouldn’t matter if they stripped you naked because that meant nothing. He said different men gained different size when they wanted a woman. What they began with wasn’t all that important.”
“Chessa,” he said slowly as he walked down the wooden rungs of the ladder, “you told them that I had a huge member?”
“It’s surely the truth. I looked at you and nearly fainte
d. And that’s what I told them, Cleve. Can we go to the warship now? All that talk of separate times and length and breadth. It’s left me wondering what all this mating is supposed to be about.”
He plowed his hands through his hair, a habit, she was learning, whenever he was unnerved. “I failed you, but tonight, Chessa, tonight I won’t. All right, I want no more fighting. We’ll go to the damned warship. I might as well show you that I’m no hero, that I’m just a man and have the endurance of any other man, no more. Please, Chessa, tell me you didn’t compare my sex to that huge oak trunk over there.”
“There were no oak trees in the longhouse.” She looked disappointed.
“Thank the gods for that. I don’t want to know what you compared me to. Doubtless I’ll hear it from the men tomorrow. Come along now and learn you’re married to a man, a simple man who doesn’t have an oak tree attached to him.”
“That’s splendid,” she said, and tucked her hand through his arm. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it? I love the smell of the salt water, the sound of the waves hitting against the rocks. The rocking of the warship will be very nice.”
He looked at her as if she were mad. He grabbed her hand and together they ran through the palisade gates. Old Olgar looked after them, shaking his head, grinning in the bright moonlight, his two remaining teeth glittering.
“Just look at him hauling her out of here,” Hafter said to Gunleik. “He’s taking her away because he doesn’t trust that we won’t be listening, that we won’t be looking through the bearskin covering to see what he’s doing, to see how big he is. He’s a sneak, this damned man I thought was a good friend. What should we do?”
Lord of Falcon Ridge Page 22
