Chapter 15
Gisla felt the mattress shift under the weight of her visitor. She was glad he was here and for once she could think of no reason he should go away. She moved towards him and wrapped her arms around him. For all that his secrecy annoyed her, it also caused her to feel great ownership of him. To her it was as if he only existed in her bed. He was only hers.
As her arms closed around him, his did the same to her. He was so warm and strong. His movements were fierce, and yet she felt so protected and safe. For a brief moment she wondered if this was what it was like to be married. If every night a married woman would be able to look forward to a tender moment like this. The thought gave her a sudden thrill which she did not expect. Marriage to her had always been something she did not wish to partake in. She did not wish to be dominated, ignored, and owned by some man. But this, this was different.
"I am happy you are here," she whispered to him.
"And I am happy to be here," he said, and then placed a kiss on the top of her forehead. "How was your day?"
"The same as most days. The evening rain made me miss my walk, and my father had a private audience with me."
"What did your father wish to speak to you about," he asked with concern.
"He wanted to talk to me about the Northman. He wished to know if I was still seeking a divorce from him."
"And are you," the man asked, his voice filled with urgency.
Gisla let out a sigh as she thought, "Yes, I suppose I am. I do not think he would be a bad husband, but I do not want this marriage and never have. Also I learned something."
"What did you learn?" An unreadable emotion lingering in his voice.
"He can speak. Rollo, I mean, can speak a little Frankish."
"What? You heard him!"
"No, no, of course not. My father told me this. I think I have been far too unkind to him for him to try and speak to me. That is one of the reasons I wish to leave him. I do not think we are well suited for each other. Though I think in his own way he has tried to show me kindness."
"Truly? What has he done?"
"He brought me flowers today. And he seemed to want to stay with me when my father requested my presence. It was almost as if– No, that sounds silly."
"What?"
"It was almost as if he wanted to stay with me, and…protect me."
For some unexplainable reason the man suddenly clutched her a little closer to his person, and stroked his hand over her arm and side in a comforting motion. There was so much passion in it, like a wave crashing over the ocean, or lightning tearing through the sky. What a strange thing to do, Gisla thought.
"He is not as bad as I thought at first, and thinking back I do not think this is the first time he has tried to be of aid to me. That is why I hope when the marriage is over another woman can be found to be his wife."
A suddenly as the hug had started it was released, as if he no longer wanted her. Gisla could not understand what had happened. But the tenderness between them seemed to have been broken.
Annoyance filled his voice when he spoke again, "Oh, and what is it you plan to do when the marriage is over?"
"I– I do not know. Perhaps, I will join a convent and devote my life to God." Then in an effort to win his favor back added, "You could still come and visit me there, could you not?"
"No I could not," he answered her.
"And why not? Nothing will have changed from what it is now."
"Because would I be allowed to do this to you if you have sworn off all men?" His lips suddenly met with Gisla's and she felt as if she was drowning and on fire at the same time. His kiss stirred some kind of wild beast within her, and all she wanted was more. She wanted to be consumed by this feeling.
The kiss broke and Gisla felt her chest heave as she gulped for air. Had she been holding her breathe in the excitement?
To her great annoyance she had the distinct feeling that the man was perfectly aware of how breathless he had left her. And he seemed to enjoy it. A laugh tainted his voice as he said, "See, you would no longer allow me to do such things. So what could persuade me to come to your bed again?"
"But I thought you cared for me," Gisla said in dismay.
"I do care for you, but it is you who wishes to leave me. How am I at fault?"
"I did not say I wished to leave you," Gisla said, frustrated that he was twisting her words, "I simply said that I wished to divorce my husband, and not marry again."
"Would you marry a man like me?"
Shock filled Gisla at his forwardness, "You should not ask such things of me. I am a married woman."
"Yes, but you will not be married for long."
"Well… that does not matter. And I have never entertained such a thought." Gisla lied. "Besides there is still so much about you that I do not know."
The man seemed amused at her hurried explanation, "Oh, and what is it that you wish to know about me?"
"Anything," Gisla blurted out, and then realizing how desperate she sounded continued in a calmer voice, "I simply know nothing about you. I do not even know enough to find you during the day. How can you ask such a thing of me when I do not even know your Christian name?"
His deep laugh rumbled through the room, "Would you like to know my Christian name?"
"Yes." Gisla insisted.
"Fine, but it will do you no good. I do not answer to it."
"That is fine," Gisla responded, grateful to receive any sort of clue form him.
"It is Robert."
"Robert," Gisla repeated, letting the word slowly roll off her tongue, "that is not a Frankish name."
"I was not given the name in Frankia," he said seemingly pleased with his simple explanation.
"So that is your Christian name. Now tell me the name you have given yourself."
"I did not give it to myself," he answered quickly as if the idea was preposterous.
"But you said that you do not answer to your Christian name. How else does one gain a name except from baptism or theft?"
"It is what my mother called me."
"But surely she would have had you baptized with whatever name she wished for you to be known by?"
"She was not at my baptism," The voice answered, his tone soft and distant.
Gisla immediately realized her mistake, "Forgive me, I should have understood that she only had a small chance to name you, before she left this earthly kingdom."
A laugh tore through the room and Gisla was shocked at anyone laughing at something so tragic.
"How can you find levity in such grim events? It is your own mother that I speak of–"
"I laugh because you are mistaken. My mother did not die soon after having me. She was not there because she was not a Christian."
This news mortified Gisla to the core. Who was this stranger in her bed?
"How little I know you," Gisla said, suddenly feeling the urge to inch away form him.
"Yes, we do not know much of each other, but we know enough, I think."
This confused Gisla, "You speak in riddles, I do not know what you mean."
He tugged her a little closer to himself, "I mean, that I know that you are strong, and brave, and determined, and that we are equals. That is enough for me for now."
The idea of equality between them was beginning to grow on Gisla and she let herself relax against his embrace.
After a long quiet moment between them Gisla spoke again, "Please, what is your name?"
He took the liberty to stroke her hair before speaking and Gisla was sure he was going to answer.
"You are forgetful, Princess, I told you you would have to guess my name."
They taunted and teased each other late into the night over if it was fair that he demand she be able to guess his name. Soon Gisla tired and fell into a gentle sleep. Rollo was beyond pleased at the progress that was happening between them. Though it still troubled him that she wanted a divorce from him, and yet she wanted him to still visit her once that had happened. Would this always be the way it was between them, a slap and an embrace at once. He hoped he could bring her around to seeing his true identity for herself, before it was too late.
A restlessness came over Rollo as he tried to find sleep. He was too hot. Frankia was so much warmer than what he was accustom to. And the thick sheet and Gisla's own heat were not helping. He tossed and turned trying to find a cool spot in the bed, but it was no use. His skin felt like it was crawling with a thousand stinging ants. In an act of desperation, he took off his tunic and let it fall to the floor. The relief was immediate. Sleep soon found him and he embraced the feeling of being cool and at peace.
Rollo awoke to morning light flooding the room, and he realized with a start that he had over slept. He glanced down at Gisla and heaved a sigh of relief that she was fast asleep. But the rest of the palace was not. Footsteps could be heard outside of the door and Rollo bolted from the bed and sprinted towards the balcony. Completely forgetting about his tunic on the way out.
