New chapter! The episode was pretty darn good. I am so glad they are leaving a lot of Rollo and Gisla's relationship vague. Gives me more to play with. ;) Hope you enjoy. Really want to cement this plotline. :D PLEASE REVIEW!
VIKINGS IS OWNED BY HISTORY CHANNEL. I ONLY OWN THE ORIGINAL PLOT.
A few weeks had passed since Rollo had returned to Paris, his attention to Gisla never wavering as he attended to her every need. He even began their training, the room adjacent to their bedchamber being put to good use. Rollo first taught her to use an axe, the weapon lighter and more effective in close combat.
"You are moving better," Rollo insisted, avoiding another one of her strikes. "But never lose your position on the battlefield. That can lead to certain death."
"As you say husband," she replied, swinging at him again. She had become more skilled with the axe in the couple of weeks they had been working together, her form much improved. She had taken his lessons to heart, sometimes insisting they train for longer each day they met. It was an everyday occurrence and Rollo had begun to believe that she enjoyed it more than he did.
"You're distracted," he said, watching her movements. "Swing with purpose and aim for the areas I told you about."
"The neck," she said, swinging at him. He leaned back missing the blow of the dull axe as she swung. "And the legs," she continued, swinging at his shins. She moved out of the way, his reflexes making him swing at her, the training paying off as she dodged just in time. She the swung at his thigh, Rollo just barely moving as the blunt axe missed.
"Good," he said, nodding. "But we have been at it for almost three hours," he commented, lowering his axe. "Perhaps we should take a break until tomorrow."
"Are you tiring husband?" she asked, a smirk on her face. He chuckled, shaking his head at the sweaty young princess.
"No, but a body needs rest," he insisted, winking at her. "Come, let's get something to eat."
"If you insist," she said, setting her axe against the wall and removing her iron mail. She slipped out of her boots now, letting loose her long hair as she followed Rollo from their antechamber to the table in their suite. She sat down, wiping her face with a dry rag before smiling. "That was invigorating. I can see why you Northmen are so frightening. Such stamina."
"You are a natural," Rollo chuckled, shedding his own leather boots and straps. "You will soon be a fearsome shield maiden."
"The look on father's face when I am upon the walls," she gushed, her eyes alight with excitement. "It will be thrilling."
"The walls?" Rollo asked, his eyes going wide. "Do not get ahead of yourself Gisla. You are still a novice and if my brother's forces breech the walls, I want you as far from the battle as possible."
"What have I been training for then?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. "I will not sit back and pray for salvation Rollo. I will fight for it with my own two hands."
"You are willful and stubborn," Rollo groaned, rubbing his temples. "Such a troublesome wife I have."
"And you love me all the same," she commented, pouring some wine in her cup. She took a large drink of it before setting the cup down, a smile across her lips. "So you would not allow me to remain by your side on the battlements?"
"I would have you by my side in everything," he replied, pouring himself some wine. "But in this, I would like you to remain in the palace, away from the battle."
"You would have to tie me to our bed," she smirked, tilting her cup toward him. "To stop me from being by your side the day that those pagans return."
"Then expect a thick rope," Rollo replied, sipping on his wine.
"Perhaps I should heed your command," she chuckled, leaning back in her chair, the redness in her face subsiding. "But I would feel ashamed if my husband was the only one of our family that is represented on the battlefield."
"And I would be ashamed if I failed to protect my young bride," Rollo insisted, taking her hand in his. "Won't you trust me, wife? Let me protect you."
"I trust you," she replied, squeezing his hand. "And I have finally come up with a plan to rid us of Count Odo."
"Did you?" Rollo asked, his eyes going wide. "What did you come up with?"
"When the pagans attack we will command his troops to be the first line of defense," she smirked. "He cannot refuse his commander."
"It is too obvious," Rollo insisted. "He'll be ready for an attack. We must find the opportune moment to strike."
"It is hard to plan," Gisla sighed, looking out the window. "When we know not the pattern of attack or the numbers they possess."
"It will be many more than before," Rollo said. "And they will burn through the countryside if they get the opportunity."
"Then we should meet them, head on," Gisla insisted. "Stop their spreading from the coast and the rivers."
"You are not wrong," Rollo said. "But our priority is to slow them down and trap them within the river. Only then can we attack them without the loss of many casualties. They will be overwhelmed by the ferocity and numbers Frankia possesses. They will also be at a disadvantage because they do not know our battle formations or tactics like we know theirs."
"It is thrilling to hear you talk of battle and strategy," she said, her face alight with wonder. "Teach me more."
"You should be thinking of banquets," Rollo teased. "And dresses and jewels. Not battle and glory."
"You will not let me join you no matter what I do or say," Gisla finally sighed, leaning back in her chair. "You'd leave me behind."
"I would leave you in safe keeping," Rollo corrected, taking her hands in his as he stood up, moving to look down at her. "I would not risk your life for all the gold and all the power in the world."
"And I would give all my gold and power to see you safely into my arms again," she smiled, squeezing his hands. "So come back to me when the time comes. Promise you will come back to me."
"I cannot," he sighed, leaning down and capturing her lips. "But I can promise that I will fight off death as long, and as hard, as I possibly can."
"Sometimes your words overwhelm me," she admitted, standing to look at him. "You make me happy and sad when you say things like that."
"Please understand," he said, pulling her body against his, his hands resting at the base of her spine. "You're my everything and soon the child that you will carry will be my reason for living, my reason for fighting on."
"You're such a kind man," she said, her hands trailing up his shirt and over his shoulders. "You must not leave me alone in this world, understand?"
"If it is my time I welcome my fate with an open heart," Rollo chuckled, kissing her forehead. "But I will not willingly leave you. You are my woman and I will protect you to my last breath."
"Such tender love," she sighed, resting her head against his chest. "The Northmen will land on our shores again and soon we will be parted. I cannot bear the thought but I know that it is what needs to be done."
Rollo nodded, kissing her again, their lips lingering on one another's as they stood there, oblivious to the world around them. It was only when their food had arrived that they broke apart, enjoying their lunch with laughter and excitement. The past couple of weeks had strengthened their relationship, their bond forming anew. Rollo could not count the number of times they had made love or said the words that they so thoroughly believed in. It was overwhelming to know that this wonderful woman was devoted to him and that her attentions, her every affections, were meant only for Rollo.
It was then that the bells began to toll, signifying the afternoon mass. Rollo sighed, standing from his chair again. They had skipped mass every morning but had been forced, after some disapproving looks, to attend the afternoon masses. As they readied themselves for church, they couldn't help but watch one another in their routines. Rollo found Gisla's transformation, when she put on a beautiful dress and baubles, to be mesmerizing, his own mind going blank with lust and love. He wasn't sure how such a woman was given to him and he dared not question the gift.
When they had done dressing they made their way through the palace and past the nobles and ladies who had bowed and greeted them as they approached. Gisla simply smiled at them and Rollo nodded, acknowledging the other nobles as they passed. When they reached the chapel they were greeted by Count Gerau and Princess Ursula who had been waiting for them to show up. They both bowed to the royal couple, enthusiastically greeting them. Gisla hugged Ursula, whose belly was bulging and heavy with their unborn child. Gerau greeted Rollo with a hug, kissing Gisla's hand before pulling his wife close.
"We have not seen you much since your return Duke Rollo," Ursula said, placing a hand on her belly. "We had worried you were displeased with us."
"Nonsense," Rollo chuckled, shaking his head. "We've been preoccupied with marital duties."
"Such an understandable excuse," Ursula smiled. "How was your tour of Rouen and Normandy Duke Rollo?"
"Long but it went well," he assured. "Our coasts are manned and our guard towers are well prepared for the invasion."
"That is good to know," Count Gerau admitted. "It is a great weight off my mind."
"Fear not my friend," Rollo smiled. "We will endure their attack and drive them from our shores."
"That is the kind of talk that I like to hear," came a voice and the group turned to see the Emperor, his smile wide. "Daughter, son-in-law," he said embracing them. "It is good to see you both today." Then turned to Ursula, placing a hand on her belly, a smile on his face. "Your belly grows with every week niece."
"He grows stronger by the day," she smiled, patting her belly. "I cannot wait to meet him."
"Do the physicians tell you when you are due?" the Emperor asked, looking to Gerau.
"He has told us that by the end of the summer will be joined by our young prince," Gerau smiled, holding his wife close.
"Such prosperity is a blessing from God," the Emperor smiled, removing his hand and looking back to Gisla and Rollo. "Shall we go in? Mass cannot begin without us."
The group followed the Emperor in, the choir singing and the music solemn and loud as they took their spots. It was Easter season and the masses were more elaborate, more lavish the closer it got. This Sunday was the sacred holiday and Rollo had been preparing, listening to the bishop's ceremonies and recommendations. He wanted to impress his father-in-law and all the other nobles at court by performing the ceremonies this Sunday.
After the long service, Rollo led Gisla from the crowded chapel to the open courtyard, the spring sun streaming down from the blue sky. The sight of her smiling as she took in the warmth of the sun was overwhelming and Rollo couldn't help but capture her in his arms, hugging her tightly to him. The ladies and lords in the courtyard watched on as Rollo chuckled at her embarrassment, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek before taking her hand. The flowers and trees were starting to bud and the newly green grounds were irresistible to many of the Emperor's court. As Gisla and Rollo strolled through the gardens, they noticed a guard of Count Odo's wandering around as well. He looked as if he was trying to find someone and when he approached an older man in a long brown cloak, almost like monk's robes, he bowed, walking away with him down the path toward the hedges.
Gisla and Rollo followed, pretending to be distracted by the new buds and beauty of the now available hedgerows that had, only weeks ago, been covered in snow and ice. As they walked behind the two men, far enough back to not be noticed, they heard a few random words escape the soldier's mouth. One, Rollo thought, was truly offensive. They had both heard Gisla's name uttered and Rollo wanted to rush up to them right now to demand answers. Gisla's hand on his arm stopped him and as the two men wound their way into the hedges, Gisla and Rollo picked up the pace, their arms still linked.
"Then what is the plan now?" came the voice from the other side of the hedges. It had to have been the soldier, his voice sounding younger and more commanding.
"We will have to find the right opportunity to separate them," came the older man's voice. "It will take time but Count Odo must be patient. If we are lucky, the pagans will take care of the problem."
"If only it were that easy," the younger man sighed. "I will let the count know that there has been a change of plans. I thank you for your time my lord."
"Remind the count of our deal," the older man called. That is when they could hear footsteps, Rollo immediately grabbing Gisla up in his arms and moving her around the corner to the bench. He immediately leaned over her, covering her face with his body and their lips met. Gisla was confused at first but Rollo quickly silenced her by exploring her mouth with his tongue, gently teasing and testing as the footsteps passed by. A few moments later the second set of steps approached and then passed, the shuffling obviously the older lord.
When they had officially disappeared, Rollo pulled away, looking down at his wife sheepishly. She just grinned, standing on her toes to kiss his lips gently. She then nodded, looking about again.
"Who do you suppose that was about?" Gisla asked, her eyes narrow.
"Everyone knows of his hatred toward you," Rollo smirked, kissing her cheek. "He will not outright say it but he works against us at every turn."
"Then it was about us?" she asked, grasping at his shirt. "He wants to separate us? Who was that man? We must find out…"
"Do not panic," Rollo whispered, sitting down on the bench next to her. She placed her hands on his knee, his hand moving over top of them as he spoke. "We will not be separated. I will have my guard watching over you every day and when the opportunity knocks, I will dispose of Count Odo on the battlefield."
"I am still afraid," she admitted, her eyes narrowing. "I do not know what he has planned and the thought of being separated from you is overwhelming." She bit her lip, tears forming in the corners over her eyes.
"You must be patient," Rollo whispered, pulling her close and allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. "You must be brave too, Gisla," he smiled. "You're so strong already but I need you to be stronger still."
"I don't know if I can," she sighed, grasping his cloak. "I love you too much. It hurts to think about you being gone, to think of you losing your life in this senseless violence."
"Do not be sad," he whispered "Come, let us enjoy the rest of the afternoon in one another's company. Where would you like to go?"
"Riding," she admitted, squeezing his fingers in hers. "Riding with my husband."
"Very well," he nodded, moving to stand. Gisla followed and soon they were heading off toward the stables, talking and laughing the whole way. The day was perfect as Rollo took his wife out riding about the city, the common citizens waving and praying to her as she passed. Rollo couldn't help but smile and wave back at the merchants and servants, all scrambling to get a look at the noble couple. It was when they had left the city, and were traveling along the river's edge, that they spotted some ships sailing upstream. Rollo recognized them as their own and dismounted, walking his horse, and Gisla's toward the banks. As the ships passed, Rollo watching closely, he could tell that something was different. There were only three ships travelling up stream and they were all suspiciously slow. Rollo watched the men dock near the city, unloading some cargo as they did so.
When Gisla noticed is fascination she watched as well, eventually dismounting and coming to stand next to Rollo. When she did he looked down at her, his eyes narrowing. "I do not like the looks of those ships," he said, his hand going to her face. He gently palmed her cheek before kissing her lips tenderly. "Ride back to the city and have the castle guard escort you back to the keep," Rollo insisted. "I will investigate and meet you inside."
"I won't leave you," she protested, placing her hand over his. She squeezed his fingers and kissed his palm, her big brown eyes watching him fearfully.
"You must," he insisted. "If anything were to happen to you I…"
"Please don't ask me to leave," she pleaded, her hands squeezing his arms. "I beg you, don't make me say goodbye. If you do, and you never come back, I will blame myself for not staying by your side."
"I would rather you be alive and missing me than dead," he whispered, pulling her close. "I will come back. I am simply going to ask them what their orders are."
"I will come with you," she insisted, grabbing the dagger form underneath her cloak and showing it to him. "Please, let me help." Rollo knew he wasn't going to get anywhere and longer he waited, the more danger they could be in. Rollo simply nodded, motioning for her to follow as they lead their horses back up the banks toward the docks. When they reached the docks the men spotted them and halted their work, the three ships laden with crates and barrels.
"Where do you come from?" Rollo asked, approaching one of them, the group gathering near and bowing.
"From the Lowlands," the man said, his accent mild. "We carry the seal of Count Gerau and Princess Ursula of Dam." The man was broad and strong, his short brown beard matching his wavy tied back locks.
"Your cargo?" Rollo asked, looking at the ships suspiciously. They looked a little worn to be just cargo ships.
"Personal affects, furniture, home goods, wardrobes, paintings, and cured foods and wines from The Lowlands," he answered, pulling a sealed scroll from his pocket, baring the mark of a flower, a smirk on the man's face. Rollo nodded now, smiling softly.
"Pardon my suspicion," he said, looking at their ships. "You have battle markings and your ships look worn and weighted down. Trouble on the journey?"
"Our ships were fired upon," he admitted, nodding to the crew. "I am the captain and we were sailing just off the coast of Flanders, heading south toward Normandy for the mouth of the Seine when we were set upon but two ships, small and in shambles." The captain then turned to his crew. "But we beat them back, didn't we boys?!"
The group applauded and voiced their agreement, embracing one another and smiling. "You see, the enemy tried to shoot crossbows and tried to board us but our crew held them off. We killed most of them and the rest vanished on their ships but there is a man here, in chains, who is injured."
"I want a full report from you," Rollo demanded, his eyes wide. "I am the Duke of Rouen and this is the Princess Gisla of Paris."
"We know who you are," the man breathed, his smile wide. "We could hardly believe our eyes as we sailed toward the city docks, your watchful gazes over us like giants. You're just as imposing as your legend."
"May we beg a blessing of you, majesty?" the man next to the captain asked, dropping to one knee. "If you would thank God almighty for our deliverance, I would be forever grateful."
"Of course!" Gisla said, coming over to touch the top of the man's head. The crew all fell to their knees, bowing their heads in prayer. The smooth Latin phrases spilled from her lips like wine and the magnificence of the sight was for Rollo to view alone. The bowing sailors were so absorbed in prayer that they missed the beautiful princess's soft blush and smile. They missed her close eyelids and parting lips as she spoke the elegant prayers. She ended softly, her eyes opening to look upon the appreciative crew, their eyes alight with Godly presence.
"Come," Rollo offered. "Bring the prisoner to the keep. The captain of the guard will throw him in the dungeons. Count Gerau and Princess Ursula will be relieved to find you are well. Come, unload your goods."
"Indeed, let me ride ahead," Gisla said, squeezing Rollo's arm. He nodded, motioning for two of the dock guards to follow her. She rode off swiftly through the gates, the passersby moving aside as she approached, the guard hot on her tail. Rollo couldn't help but chuckle as she rode away. She was still not used to riding with a leg on each side of the saddle.
The crew completed their work swiftly, the furniture and trunks being loaded on carts as the barrels of food and drink were rolled into their own cart. Rollo ordered the port guards to aid in the venture and soon they were on their way, Rollo leading the caravan of sailors up the hill, through the merchants and common folk, the herds of geese and sheep parting way as they approached. When they reached the palace gates the guard began hauling and unloading the carts, the crew helping to allocate the different boxes and crates.
"Escort the crew to the kitchens when you are through. They will have a hearty meal," Rollo told the captain of the guard. "Come," Rollo turned to ship's captain, escorting him and his first-mate toward the kitchen entrance. "We shall get you drink and some food and then I will personally escort you to your lord and lady."
"You're too kind," he shook his head. "I would not interrupt their day."
"My wife is speaking to them now," he nodded, walking through the stone courtyard and down the narrow stairs into the hot kitchens. The ovens were burning and the food smelled delicious and Rollo could tell the captain was hungry. "Stay, eat. I will go ahead and find my wife. I'll be back soon to get you."
Rollo nodded to the older woman who ran the kitchen and she presented the sailors with several plates of leftover and fresh meats, cheeses, and pastries. There was also a leftover tankard of ale for them to sip on. Rollo made his way around the tables and shelves toward the stairs, ascending them to the first floor landing and meeting the person he had been looking for. He walked over to Gisla, who was speaking with a smile to Ursula, her hair mussed from riding and her cheeks flushed. She was still wearing her riding gear, a pair of leather breeches and an overcoat that made her dress look bulkier than normal.
"Rollo," she said, waving to him. He came over and smiled, nodding at Ursula; Count Gerau was nowhere in sight.
"Where is the count?" Rollo asked, looking about.
"He has already left for the courtyard," Gisla smiled. "He was eager to help the men that braved the journey for his goods."
"We are so grateful," Ursula insisted, her hand on her stomach. "They were merely goods from home but they mean the world to me and my new family."
"I am sure the men are just thankful to be safe," Rollo smiled. "And they brought back a prisoner. One of their attackers."
"He should be punished," Ursula insisted. "Did any of the crew lose their lives?"
"No reported deaths," Rollo admitted. "The captain thought it a miracle. Would you like to meet him?"
"Of course," she smiled, turning her head to look for the man.
"Wait here," he said, turning from the two women. "I will get them." When the three men came back up the room had drawn a small crowd, Rollo escorting the seemingly dirty men through the parting rows of onlookers. When they had reached Ursula and Gisla the two princesses smiled, bowing to the men. The sailors were astonished and bowed lower, their eyes averted from women.
"I wanted to thank you personally, ship captain, for bringing my goods safely to Paris," Ursula said, smiling down at the men. "My husband and I will never be able to repay your loyalty and bravery."
There was a silence in the room now and the captain of this ship looked up, nodding timidly. "It is a pleasure, your majesty," he said. "We live to serve the family of the great Charlemagne."
"You are most welcome to Paris!" came a voice from behind them and crossing the room, followed by a couple of armed guards, was the Emperor himself. He smiled at the group before him, the room bowing in respects. He then turned to the ship captain, motioning for him to rise. "You fought to get to our shores and you are most welcome to eat, drink, and be merry," the Emperor insisted, nodding at him. The room applauded graciously and then started whispering and talking amongst themselves. The Emperor turned to Gisla, embracing her tightly, his eyes darting about the room.
"Father," Gisla said, kissing his cheek. "I did not expect to see you here."
"I heard about the ships, and the word quickly spread that the crew was being escorted, personally, by my son Rollo," he smirked, nodding at his son-in-law. "I had to investigate; curious nature."
"The crew was carrying the Princess Ursula and Count Gerau's goods and supplies," Rollo said, a smile on his face. "They were heading south, around Flanders, when they were set upon by a couple of pirate ships. It was the crew who fought them off and captured a prisoner. He has made his home in the dungeons."
"What a rousing tale!" the king said, his eyes wide in fascination. "It is truly a miracle from God; a sign!" He then clapped his hands, looking at the ship captain excitedly. "Would you and your crew consider a commission in our navy?"
The captain's eyes grew wide and Rollo smiled. He had thought the same thing. The ship captain was charismatic, brave, and blunt, something valued in an ally. The captain just rubbed the back of his head now, his eyes looking at the floor nervously. He was obviously unsure what to say. Then he looked at the king, a hesitant twinkle in his eye, a smirk spreading across his face.
"I do not believe that our kind of crew would be suitable for your majesty's army," he assured. "We are a rowdy, sinful bunch who were recruited to carry the Princess' goods only because we were the most gullible of crews to take on such a dangerous crossing." He then looked at Rollo. "We know of the Northmen's return and we knew it would be a dangerous trip but the payout was substantial. We did not think to be greeted by royalty."
"Would you consider a pension from the Emperor of Frankia for your services, then?" the Emperor asked, a smirk on his face. "It would also be a substantial payout."
"No offence," the captain said, his demeanor relaxing. "But it is also a greater risk. We've ran into a Northman ship before and it was not a pleasant experience."
"Name your price," the Emperor said, looking at the group. "We would be more at ease if such a crew were guarding our city."
"It would also be a chance for you to gain renown," Rollo insisted. He understood that the king could pay any price but Rollo wanted to avoid spending their gold, if he could help it. "You would get your compensation but you would also gain a reputation; one that would far outclass your competitors."
The captain looked at Rollo curiously, his eyes alight with the possibilities. The whole group was silent, waiting for the captain's answer. It was almost somber the way the chatter buzzed about them and yet their circle could not come to words.
"Our boats, our crew, is not outfitted for full-scale battle," the captain finally said, sighing softly. "I would be very expensive to be ready in time as I am sure you know as well as I that the ice is melting."
"You and your crew will be outfitted with new iron armor and weapons," Rollo assured. "I will provide you with them myself. As for the ship, there is a boat, just recently broken in, that is faster than all the others. It turns faster, and tighter, and it is simple to control in narrower rivers. If you crew is willing, I would be more than willing to loan you this boat until the time comes for your departure. By then your own ships would be repaired and ready to return you to your homes."
"Such generosity," the captain smiled, his eyes slightly wide. "You would do all this to ensure our help in this upcoming fight?"
"I would do anything to defend Paris," Rollo admitted, a smile forming on his face.
"You're a marvel," the captain chuckled, clapping Rollo on the shoulder heartily. "I will join you! My crew will join you. There will be many battles and many rewards ahead of us!"
"That is wonderful to hear!" the Emperor gushed, his arm going to Rollo's arm and the captain's shoulder, excitedly embracing them. "God has sent us a blessing and it is we, the faithful, who follow his will. We shall give thanks for this new friendship with a feast!"
"Your majesty is too kind," the captain chuckled.
"Nonsense," the king insisted. "Come, what is your name my good sir?"
"My real name is foreign, and sloppy. Most call me Captain Krey," he admitted, his eyes alight with excitement and awe.
"Then I will throw a banquet, in honor of you and your crew," the Emperor said with a nod. "We will feast and celebrate our newly formed alliance."
"We would be most honored," he replied, his eyes finding Rollo. "We are most grateful to you all."
"I will escort you back to your crew," came Gerau's voice, moving through the crowd toward the group. "I cannot thank you enough sir."
"Thank you my lord," the captain said, bowing.
"Come," he insisted, ushering him toward the kitchens. "Let us talk. I want to know everything…" As they sauntered away, the two sailors following Count Gerau, the king turned to Rollo, waving for him to lean near.
"My king?" Rollo asked, leaning down to speak with him.
"I must speak with you and my daughter," he whispered. "Something has come up and we must speak."
Rollo simply nodded, a smile spreading across his face. The king looked nervous and Rollo did not want to alarm anyone. It would do no good to have his people see him in such a state.
"Wife," Rollo turned, offering his arm. "I have offered to show the Emperor our progress in Normandy. Will you escort us to his suite? We are eager to cement our final plans."
Gisla looked at him curiously now, her hand going to his arm as she linked them together. He narrowed his eyes slightly, looking at the king before looking back at her. He had hoped she would catch on and when she did, she immediately nodded, smiling softly.
"Absolutely husband, father," she assured. "We shall have lunch together. Does that suit?"
"Wonderfully," the Emperor breathed, offering his arm to Gisla as well. She placed her hand upon it and the three of them excused themselves, turning from Ursula and her companions toward the main hall. As they made their way past the parting crowds of people, Rollo could feel Gisla's hand squeezing his arm, gently signaling her curiosity. Rollo considered torturing her, allowing her to think it was more than what it seemed. As they turned the corner toward the main staircase that lead to the west wing suites, just opposite of Rollo and Gisla's, Rollo leaned down to speak to her quietly.
"Your father wishes to speak to us," Rollo whispered. "Said it was urgent."
She turned her head now, whispering back quickly. "Many things are urgent."
Rollo just nodded and continued pace, the Emperor nodding and speaking briefly to the passersby. The guard close behind as they escorted the royal family to the Emperor's suite. When they arrived there were two guards standing outside the doors, both bowing and then swinging them open in quick succession. Rollo nodded to them as they passed, the doors creaking shut behind them.
"Father?" Gisla asked, turning and placing a hand on his other arm as well. "What is wrong? You look unwell."
It was true, the king looked pale and sickly, tired and fearful; it reminded Rollo of the hunted deer before the kill. He winced inwardly at the thought of their whole world, their whole claim to any sort of future, going up in flames. Rollo immediately moved to the table, picking up the Emperor's large plush chair, and bringing it to him. The Emperor weakly smiled and sat down now, his eyes on the floor.
"Majesty?" Rollo asked, kneeling next to him as Gisla placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I am surrounded by snakes," he whispered, the harsh severity of his tone resonating between them.
"You are Emperor," Gisla said, her voice commanding. "It will always be so."
"Are you a snake?" the aging king asked, his eyes finding hers. "My own daughter?"
"Father," she breathed, kneeling down and taking his hand in hers. She looked into his eyes and Rollo could see the fierce love and need to protect him resonating within. "I am your daughter. I love you dearly and will always protect you."
"My daughter," the Emperor said, his voice cracking. "My daughter vows to protect me. What kind of Emperor must I be?"
"A kind one," Rollo interjected, standing up. "Kind and forgiving, much like Christ himself."
"Paris does not need kind!" the king protested, his fingers going to the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I need ferocity, I need fear, and most of all I need to win!"
"We will win," Gisla assured, squeezing his hand. "We are well defended, well prepared, and well equipped. The Northmen do not stand a chance."
"I am not worried about the Northmen! Those pagan savages are nothing to God or my kingdom," he spat, standing up now, regaining his balance. "I am worried about my own lords turning against me and turning toward another to fill the shoes of my grandfather, Charlemagne."
"You are the Emperor!" Gisla said, her voice stiff and commanding. "When the Northmen are beaten back from our shores you will be praised as the savior of our kingdom. It is your descendants that will reign from Normandy to the Mediterranean; none other."
"Such certainty," he said, his eyes wide in disbelief. "But I have been told many things that would not suit your ears; terrible plots and plans."
"I have heard the like," Gisla replied. "And it will be taken care of."
"What have you heard?" Rollo asked, his eyes narrowed. If the Emperor knew something that he didn't, it was time that he told him exactly what he knew.
"I've been approached by anonymous parties and told many stories of one of my trusted commanders," the Emperor said, moving toward his window. He looked out it with melancholy, his face worn from age. "It has been overheard that Count Odo is against me, that he speaks of my demise and that his ambition is to become Emperor."
"He is scum," Gisla assured, her eyes narrowed. "I have never trusted him and never will. We should be rid of him."
"We must be careful," the Emperor said, looking between them. "This is no small matter. Count Odo commands the city guard and owns much of the farmland that the city depends on."
"But it is I who command the army," Rollo interjected, a smile on his face. "I command the navy and the army and my soldiers are loyal to me. If Odo has loyal followers among his ranks then it is safe to say that he will make a move during the chaos."
"Then we must not allow him to maneuver," Gisla insisted. "We must tie his hands so that he cannot strike."
"Some have spoken against you as well," the Emperor commented, looking at his daughter. "They say that you whisper in my ear and I do your bidding. That I am a puppet of your ambition. Tell me, daughter, who should I believe?"
"I am your daughter, the descendant of Charlemagne," she growled, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "I am the rightful heir to this kingdom and my sons and grandsons will rule when I am called to God. I would die to protect this city and my family, including you father. You are indeed confused if you believe that I am your enemy as well."
He looked between Gisla and Rollo now, his eyes widening and narrowing as he tried to comprehend some unseen plot, some scheme they had hatched. He must not have found one because he simple laughed, his head thrown back in mad laughter. Gisla watched him closely, unsure what to make of her father's behavior. Rollo moved to grasp her hand now, squeezing it gently before approaching the Emperor. He looked at him with wide eyes, as if the large man were going to strike him down where he stood. Rollo simply smiled, patting the Emperor's shoulder.
"We are family now," Rollo insisted. "I am on your side and together we will figure out a way to defend Paris, and your reign, against any who oppose us."
"How do I know I can trust you, Rollo the Viking?" he asked, his hand going to Rollo's arm.
"Because, I love your daughter," he admitted, his face alight and his smile wide. "I would protect her and all those she loves with my own life."
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