Lord of Falcon Ridge

by Catherine Coulter

  One of the men yelled. “Kerek, we will die!”

  Kerek said low, “Be quiet, Chessa, or I will have to stick that gag in your mouth again.”

  “If you strike me, Kerek,” she said, smiling at him, “I wonder what Caldon will do.”

  “Stop this, you know—”

  With no warning, a huge wave slapped against the longboat. It sent cold water splashing over the men. They dropped their oars.

  “Damn you, row,” Kerek shouted. “We will go to shore. Row to shore, it isn’t far. If there weren’t this wretched mist, you’d see how close we were. Do it or you will have no chance to survive.”

  Another wave slapped against the side of the longboat, sending another curl of frigid water over the men. The water didn’t touch Chessa, nor did it wet the man next to her, but it poured over Kerek, as if meant only for him. The men knew it and were terrified. Kerek had stood up and was pointing. “The shore is just there. Row, damn you, row!”

  There was a soft whistling sound just off the bow of the boat. Another wave struck, but this one wasn’t so big. It rolled against the side of the longboat as if something large were coming and making the water shift and pulse. The whistling sound was closer now and coming even closer. The men froze, knowing that the monster was here and that soon they would die. One of them yelled, “Princess, tell the monster to leave us. Tell the monster we will release you if we can but live. We won’t obey Kerek, tell the monster that.”

  “Caldon,” Chessa called out, “You heard the man. If he speaks true, then you can release them from your death grip. If he lies, then kill them.”

  The whistling sound changed. It was more like the hiss of a snake, a huge snake, nay, the sound a sea serpent would make to warn its prey just before it struck. The hissing was close now, in every man’s ear. The warmth of that hissing breath against every man’s face. All of them could imagine that huge sea serpent strike its immense tail against a longboat and send it spinning into the depths of the loch, down and down into nothingness. The men could hear the hissing closer now, as if it were right beside each of them, as if it were burrowing inside them. They could feel the damp scales of the monster’s flesh, they could smell death in the monster’s breath. Small waves crested, shimmering in the strange light of the mist, then slapped against the longboat, one after the other.

  “Thor save us,” one of the men shouted, and pointed. “Look yon. It’s upon us!”

  28

  KIRI SCREAMED. SHE woke the other six children who all slept pressed against each other in the large box bed. She screamed again, arms thrashing, her body heaving. Torik began to cry. Eidalla, a year older than Kiri, shook her arm. “It’s a nightmare, nothing more. Be quiet, Kiri. Hush, wake up now and stop crying.”

  But Kiri threw herself out of the bed and ran to her father’s small chamber where he was already in the doorway, pulling on his trousers.

  “Papa!”

  Cleve grabbed her up into his arms and rocked her. Men and women surrounded them now, shaking hair from their eyes, concern on their faces. Cleve just shook his head. “Nay, it’s all right. She’ll be fine. She’s afraid for Chessa and dreamed a bad dream. Isn’t that right, sweeting?”

  But Kiri was shaking her head against Cleve’s neck. He felt her tears on his skin, felt the cold of her flesh. He kissed her ear, the top of her head.

  He walked back into his sleeping chamber and sat down on the bed, holding her on his lap. He pulled a woolen blanket around her. “Tell me what happened, Kiri.”

  She shuddered, then whispered, “Papa, Caldon is trying to save Chessa.”

  “What?”

  He saw she was confused. She huddled against him, shivering violently. “It’s all right, Kiri. It was a dream, just a bad dream.”

  Kiri shook her head and burrowed deeper against her father’s chest. “No, Papa, I did dream, but it wasn’t really a dream. There was Caldon and she heard Chessa calling to her. Chessa’s in a boat on the loch with Kerek and some other men. What does it mean, Papa?”

  He didn’t know. By all the gods, was he to be surrounded by wizardry? By things he didn’t understand but had to accept? He hugged his small daughter tightly. She said in that matter-of-fact way of hers, “I’m proud of Caldon for trying to save Chessa, but she doesn’t always do what I ask her to. I wanted her to bring her children so I could play with them, but she didn’t. I hope she saves Chessa, Papa.”

  He didn’t know what to say. Was it all Kiri’s imagination? Laren hadn’t thought so, neither did Varrick. He found himself asking her to tell him more about Caldon. She did, but her answers were becoming more vague and her eyes soon closed again on sleep. He sat there, holding his now-sleeping daughter, her small head pressed close to his heart. He simply didn’t know. He couldn’t bring himself to believe this monster business, but what else could he believe? What else made even a whit of sense? One thing he did believe was that Chessa was indeed on the loch in the middle of the night. And that made his belly cramp with fear.

  He knew none of the men would go out on the loch at the word of a child after darkness fell. Or at his word either, despite his conviction that she was indeed there and that there were only six men holding her. Their fear was too deep, and he supposed it was a healthy fear, for it kept them alive.

  He didn’t doubt the existence of the monster, of Caldon, as Varrick and Kiri called it. But that it could feel a human being’s thoughts, that it could be beckoned by Varrick’s burra—he didn’t want to believe it, but he was holding proof of it on his lap. His small daughter somehow knew what was happening. He now accepted what she’d dreamed, or the vision that had come to her whilst she slept. He said quietly, shaking her slightly until she was again awake, “I’m sorry, sweeting, but this is important. I want you to lie still, Kiri, and think of your second papa. Can you see her? Is she still in that boat with the other men? Is Caldon near?”

  Kiri drew a deep breath and sank down into her father’s arms. “That’s it,” he said. “Breathe deeply, sweeting. Close your eyes and think of Chessa. Do you see her?”

  “Now I see Lord Varrick. He’s staring at Pagan. He’s fitting his fingers into the holes those circles and squares make, Papa. He’s humming and his eyes are closed.”

  “What’s Pagan?”

  “The stick, Papa. It’s what Lord Varrick—”

  “He’s your grandfather—”

  “Aye, I know that, but he doesn’t like it. He told me to call him Lord Varrick. He told me he was young, younger than you even, that years fell away from him, that he would still be as he was when I was grown and had babes of my own.”

  “Then he sees Chessa as well?”

  “Aye, I think somehow he sent thoughts to Chessa and to Caldon. I don’t know, Papa.”

  “What do you—”

  Kiri screamed and struggled from the woolen blanket. “Caldon hit the boat. She butted it with her head! Everyone is screaming, Papa!”

  It was just a soft nudge, but the men nearly fainted from fear in that first moment, then screamed in the next. “Row!” Kerek yelled as loud as he could. “Damn you cowards, the shore is nearly beneath our feet. Row!”

  There was another nudge. Oh, no, Chessa thought, Caldon was pushing the longboat to shore, not away from it. Well, if she forced them to shore, then there would be a chance of escaping.

  It was then that the men yelled with relief, all of them leaping from the longboat into the shallow water, thrashing to the shore just feet beyond them. Kerek grabbed Chessa’s arm and pulled her after him. He lifted her over his shoulder and climbed over the side of the boat. He yelled to the men to pull it ashore.

  But they were too late. Once Kerek set Chessa’s feet on the pebbly beach, Caldon rose from the water beside the longboat. The mist cleared, forming a frame for that long curving neck, the small head. The mouth opened and Caldon trumpeted loudly. The men dropped the ropes to the boat and froze into statues, staring, too frightened to scream, too frightened to move.

 
Chessa grinned as Caldon lowered her mighty head and shoved at the side of the boat, butting it away from the shoreline back out into the loch. Kerek yelled and strode into the water, screaming at the monster, who was now lost in the thick mist again, the longboat as well. There was silence and the smell of fear. Finally, Kerek said loudly, breaking through to the men, “The monster is gone and has taken our longboat. All of you come out of your damned fear now. Shake yourselves. Bring your brains back into your heads. It’s over. We must stay here until it is morning. Halak, see to building a fire. The rest of you gather wood and branches. We will stay warm, at least, until the sun comes out tomorrow.”

  “I wonder if it will,” Chessa said loudly, turned, and gave Kerek a big smile. “Did you forget, Kerek, that I am the daughter of the greatest wizard who ever lived?”

  He stared down at her, fear making him pale, the thick mist leaching the rest of the color from his face. His hair was wet around his head. He was soaked, as were the rest of the men. She was completely dry, save where Kerek had pulled her over his shoulder to carry her ashore. He shivered. She didn’t know if it was from cold or from fear. She never stopped smiling up at him. He hated the fear, she knew it, and it pleased her.

  The men built a huge fire. By the time they lay down beside the banked embers, they were dry. Chessa was still wrapped in the woolen blanket. The mist was soft on her face, like damp fingers tracing over her flesh.

  Kerek left to go into the woods to relieve himself. The moment he was out of hearing, she said to the men, “You saw my magic. You saw the monster. The only reason Caldon didn’t kill all of you was because I was in the boat and she was afraid I would be harmed. When it is light, if I allow the sun to shine on the morrow, you must return me to my home. If you obey Kerek, then you will all perish.”

  “Don’t listen to her.” It was Kerek and there was deep anger in his voice. “She isn’t a witch or a wizard or anything else. The monster lives in this loch, all of us knew that. It simply came to our boat and wanted it. Nothing more. Now, the sun will be bright and hot on the morrow, despite its being fall and the leaves are now golden and red and yellow. I swear it to you. Sleep now and don’t listen to her.”

  Then he said, “You wonder why Queen Turella wants her. I will tell you. It is because of her strength, it is because of what she is that she will wed Ragnor and she will rule, not that fool. The Saxons won’t overrun the Danelaw once she is there. You have seen witness of her strength. Think of that whilst you sleep.”

  Chessa said, “Kerek has said two very different things. Which will you believe? Look at me. Do any of you think I’ll allow Ragnor to be my husband?” She shook her head and spit into the fire, causing the embers to hiss and spew. “I will by myself destroy the Danelaw. I will by myself give it over to the Saxons. You don’t want me for the king’s wife.”

  “Better the fool dies,” one of the men said.

  “Aye,” another said. “Kill him.”

  Chessa sighed. There were so many currents here and she didn’t know which way to swim. She’d decided upon wizardry and threats to kill Ragnor but it hadn’t worked. These men wanted him dead. She looked at Kerek, who was smiling very slightly at her.

  “The princess is of great value,” he said. “Now, go to sleep, all of you. The sun will be upon us soon.”

  She slept. She didn’t want to, but she did, deeply, with no dreams. She awoke when Kerek shook her arm.

  “Look at the bright sun, Princess,” he said, thick pleasure in his voice, or was it stark relief? She didn’t know. “Aye,” he said, “bright sun, just as I promised.”

  It was so strong, even after the passing of the dawn hour, that it hurt to look directly into it. The loch glistened beneath it, pure and dark. The longboat was nowhere in sight. She smiled. “Now Cleve will find us, Kerek. We have no boat. Did you plan to walk to York? Perhaps fly?”

  “Look, Princess.”

  She followed his finger. They were at the narrow channel. Just beyond that channel was the trading town of Inverness. She wanted to weep with disappointment.

  “Come, Chessa, resign yourself. Your life will be pleasant. You will have all the luxury you could desire. If you want a lover, I will provide one for you after you’ve birthed the heir to the Danelaw. Don’t worry about Cleve’s babe. He will be safe. And you can have lovers. Turella has lovers, you know.”

  The men were cheering, pointing wildly, quickly pulling their clothing straight, throwing sand on the dying embers of the fire.

  “You have no longboat,” she said even as he pulled her to her feet. “Will you steal one to get back to York?”

  “I have something better,” Kerek said, and dusted her off. He took her blanket and carefully folded it. He whistled as he took her arm and pulled her to the fore of the men. “Keep a sharp eye out for outlaws,” he said, and covered the rock-strewn ground with long strides.

  Chessa cursed.

  They reached Inverness by early afternoon. The weather held mild, the breeze soft and warm against their faces. Kerek bought her a new tunic of saffron and an overtunic of softer yellow, two beautiful brooches from Orkney to fasten the overtunic around her shoulders. He bought a reindeer comb and told the old woman at the bathing hut not only to bathe her but to arrange her hair as well.

  “Why?” Chessa said, but Kerek only shook his head. He stayed on guard outside the bathing hut whilst the other men spent their silver coins on what they needed.

  It was nearing sunset when Kerek led Chessa and his men out of the trading town, through the palisade gates, down to the dock. “Come, Princess.”

  He led her onto a warship whose stem was carved in the shape of a black raven. It was a big ship, and there were at least fifty men on board, standing there, watching them come. One of the men shouted, “It is Kerek! He’s brought her! By the gods, he managed to do it.”

  Kerek pulled her up the rough boards that were securely roped together. He gave her a shove and she walked up those boards to the warship. She stepped down and onto the center plank that ran the full length of the ship. There was a covered cargo space at the bow, but it looked larger than any Chessa had seen before, the wadmal cover brightly painted with white and red stripes, just as was the huge rolled sail of the warship.

  “You’re a wizard,” Kerek whispered in her ear. “Tell me what you expect.”

  She just shook her head. He pushed her gently through the opening into the covered space. There, seated in a beautifully carved chair was Ragnor, holding a pale blue glass in his hand, Turella, standing just behind him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

  “Welcome, Chessa,” Ragnor said, and he raised his glass, saluted her, and drank deep. He belched even as he grinned at her. “You’re here. I doubted Kerek could do it, for he’s an old man and my mother surely has too much trust in him, but he managed to get you. You’re not very smart, are you, Chessa?”

  “You’ve done well, Kerek,” Turella said. “We expected you sooner. I was worried.”

  “The Princess has many tricks, my lady. She called forth the monster of Loch Ness and we were forced to shore. We had to walk to Inverness.”

  “The monster?” Ragnor said, leaning forward, paling.

  “Aye, the monster. It exists.”

  “I doubt that not,” Turella said, “but you beat the monster, Kerek. As for the princess, she looks none the worse for her adventure.”

  “I had her bathed and newly garbed,” Kerek said. “She is beautiful, sire, is she not?” He would tell Turella all that had happened later, after Chessa and Ragnor were married, when they could finally be alone. He wondered if she would believe it, or just smile at him in that mysterious way of hers.

  “Aye, she’s well enough, but she’s still not Utta,” Ragnor said, his first words to her. “This mead is foul.” He threw the empty glass from him and it crashed onto a bare plank and shattered.

  Turella sucked in her breath. “That belonged to my mother,” she said. “I brought it from the Bulgar. />
  “She was an old crone,” Ragnor said. “I remember she hit me when I was a small boy. She only came to York that one time, and she hit me. I will break all of them since I know now where they come from.”

  Turella said gently, “Chessa will be your wife, Ragnor. You will wed with her this evening. Kerek has agreed to travel to Hawkfell Island and memorize the way this Utta prepares mead. Then you will have a queen who will breed your heirs, and the mead that suits you so well.”

  “I still don’t have Isla,” Ragnor said.

  “No, and you never will,” his mother said. She tightened her hand on his shoulder and he winced. “Now, my son, tell the princess that she’s lovely and that you desire above all things to have her for your wife.”

  Ragnor looked at Chessa, a sullen look, but then suddenly that looked changed. He stared at her breasts. There was lust in his eyes. Her breasts were fuller now, from the baby, and she saw that he wanted her.

  She said loudly, her voice clear and carrying far, “I can’t marry you, Ragnor, no matter how much I would wish to since you’re such a splendid man, since you would give me jewels and splendid clothes, and the gods know that’s what I’ve always wanted in life, but listen, Ragnor, I’m pregnant with Cleve’s child.”

  Why had she said it? she wondered, watching Ragnor laugh until he was holding his sides. It was unfortunate that lies always seemed to come back to torment.