Lord of Raven's Peak - Catherine Coulter [114]
“Aye, it’s true.”
Suddenly his eyes clouded. She knew he was thinking about Taby but was afraid to hear that he was dead. She said quickly, “My lord, Taby is well and healthy and safe.”
“Ah,” Rollo said and raised his voice heavenward. “I will make sacrifices to all the gods, even the Christian God. We searched everywhere for you and Taby. Your cousin William led scores of men throughout the countryside and even into Paris. There was no trace of you. Tell me, Laren, tell me what happened to you.”
“I will, my lord. First you will meet the man who saved both Taby and me, the man who is now my husband. He is the master of Malverne, a wealthy farmstead in Vestfold, and his name is Merrik Haraldsson.”
Weland said, “Go to His Highness, Merrik.”
Merrik walked slowly to the mighty Rollo, a man he’d heard unbelievable tales about all his life. Now this man was of his family, this man whose legs were so long Merrik imagined that he would need a horse at least seventeen hands high to keep his feet from touching the ground. It was said he walked most places, his men riding beside him. That would be a sight indeed, Merrik thought. Ah, but his was a royal bearing, even though the years had dragged a few strands of white through his dark hair and etched lines in his cheeks and forehead. But his eyes, dark as midnight, were bright with intelligence and, Merrik saw with some surprise, with humor. He had all his teeth and his jaw was firm and stubborn. A man to reckon with.
“My lord,” he said, coming to a halt in front of Rollo. He would not bow. A Viking bowed to no man.
“You saved Laren and Taby.”
“Aye. I was in Kiev and found them both at the Khagan-Rus slave market.”
“Slave market!”
Laren laid her hand lightly on her uncle’s richly embroidered woolen sleeve. “It is a very long story, my lord. Quickly put, Taby and I were abducted from my bed two years ago and sold as slaves south in the Piedmont. We have lived as slaves ever since.”
Rollo just stared at her.
“I dismissed the guards, my lord,” Weland said into the immense silence. “Laren said she wanted only you and me to know she’d returned. And Otta, of course. Only Haakon knows besides us. He is seeing to Merrik’s men. He is saying only that they are your visitors from Norway, naught else. There is betrayal, my lord. We must take steps before it is known she and Prince Taby are returned to us.”
Rollo said finally, “Where is Taby?”
Merrik said, “He is at my farmstead, Malverne, lying some half day’s inland sail from Kaupang. He is safe and guarded well.”
“Ah, and when we know who had you abducted and sold as slaves, then you will bring Taby back to me?”
“Aye, my lord, but not until then. I love the child. I won’t chance his being hurt again. I would ask that none save you, sire, and Weland here know that Taby is alive. I won’t take any chance with his safety, no matter how unlikely.”
“I agree, Merrik. However, he must come back to me, for my only son, William, as yet has no heirs that have survived their mother’s womb. Taby is important to me, important to Normandy.”
“That is the only reason I am here, sire.”
Rollo looked at the Viking more closely now. “You are Laren’s husband,” he said. “Did you wish to wed her before or after she told you who she was?”
Merrik took no offense. “Before, sire. However, I care not about this Danelaw prince. She is mine now and the mistress of Malverne.”
Rollo made no move, merely continued studying the man who’d saved his niece and Taby. For that, he owed him more than he could imagine, as did his son, William, for William knew it vital for a man’s line to continue, and continue it would. This man Merrik Haraldsson looked to be a man of fine parts—big and robust, bursting with youth and good health—no pain in his damned joints!—and he had the handsome looks women admired, that doubtless Laren admired. He would see. Aye, he would study this man closely before he