Chapter 21

Lisbon, Portugal

It was early. The carriage pulled up in front of the entrance of the castle. King Tomas and his oldest son Prince David were outside. Their eyes widened when they saw Prince Cristian step out of the carriage. The driver of the carriage snapped the reigns and the horses trotted away.

King Tomas approached Prince Cristian, “I thought you’d still be on your honeymoon.”

“I cut it short when I heard the news of my aunt. How is she?”

“Are you sure that’s why you returned so abruptly,” Prince David questioned him.

Prince Cristian scoffed, “I also heard Yande is alive. How?”

“It’s a complicated story but the men as you know were punished for their crimes.”

“Since you have not come to see my mother, you should know that Yande is at the coast with her father and brother. They are leaving. Perhaps if you left now, you can catch a glimpse of her before she sails off,” Prince David sneered before marching away.

King Tomas sighed, “Please excuse my son. He hasn’t been in the best mood since we learned that the Queen is very ill due to this sudden affliction.”

“How ill?”

“She will not live past next spring.”

He gulped, “I am so sorry uncle.”

He nodded, “Go on and see her before it’s too late. I know you wish to say goodbye.” He touched the young man’s shoulder and went back inside.

You could hear the birds squawking. The smell of the ocean water filled her nose. She smiled. Samba touched her shoulder, “It seems like forever since we’ve been on the water.”

She nodded, “It does.”

He continued aboard the ship as she stood on the shore taking in the last moments before sailing off.

“Yande!” she heard repeated several times.

Her eyes darted in the direction of the sound. She saw him. Her heart pounded in her chest. He got closer. His blue eyes gazed into her green eyes, “Prince Cristian? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on your honeymoon.”

His hand touched her face. Her skin was soft and felt warm under the light of the sun, “We’re supposed to be on our honeymoon.”

She shook her head, “You are married now. You have a wife.”

He leaned in. She didn’t move. His lips pressed to hers. She pulled away, “We must not allow ourselves to dream of things we cannot have.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “I had to see you. Please forgive me for marrying another.”

She smiled and touched his face, “I am not upset with you.”

“I have tried not to hate her. She forced this marriage upon me for her good. And now I hear she will die before next spring. I do not care,” he admitted with watery eyes.

She kissed his forehead, “Don’t hold the hate in your heart. Your wife is a good woman. Give her a chance. She does care for you.”

Her father’s voice sounded, “Yande!” She turned briefly and then back to him. Her love. She kissed him one last time before they said goodbye.

East Anglia

His large hand rested on his round belly. His crown had many fine jewels. King Henry looked at his men sitting around the meeting table. They discussed the finances and later discussed how King Charle’s kingdom was unified with the kingdom of Northumbria.

“That old turd. He has his eyes on my land,” he sneered.

Lord Edgar spoke up, “Your majesty, things have been quite peaceful as of late. You need not worry about King Charles. He’s a lot more seasoned than he once was. I even heard his Queen is expecting a child.”

He let out a boisterous laugh, “He’s had far more luck than he deserves,” stated King Henry firmly. “He could have easily married his daughter with my son,” he said as he looked at his handsome only son, Prince Joseph.

Joesph nodded in agreement. He always thought of himself as the better catch than Price Oswald who was known to get around. He was far more tamed with his cock. Lord Edgar sighed, “Many eligible ladies are looking for a husband.”

“Yes, but none of whom are Princesses. I want the best for my son. He deserves the best.”

“Thank you, father”

“Of course, son.”

The door opened, and the queen entered. The men stood to greet her. The King smiled. He had a lovely wife. “Yes, my queen?”

Prince Joseph smiled. He loved that his parents had genuine love for each other.

“I was hoping that all this,” she waved her hand, “royal business would be handled by now. It won’t be long before my family from Portugal arrives.”

He nodded, “Yes. I lost track of the hour.” He stood and dismissed the men. Many of them left except for his son and Lord James.

Queen Olivia had the prettiest skin with a slight tint. Her dark hair was in luscious waves down her back, “The kitchen is preparing a feast. I have invited the royals from Northumbria to dine with us.”

Prince Joseph made a face, “You invited that scoundrel Prince here.”

“Now Joseph, please. Mind your tongue. There is no need for all the hate. As I said before, your match will come soon enough.”

“Yes Mother,” he replied, yet he wasn’t completely satisfied.

“Your sisters are ready. You should do the same,” she encouraged him.

He nodded and left.

She smiled at Lord James, “How is your lovely wife, Penelope?” she asked.

“She is well, your majesty. The baby will be here any day now.”

“What a joy,” she replied with a smile.

Yande stared at the coast. It was time. Samba placed his hand on her shoulder, “Are you all right?” he asked with concern.

“I am.”

“You have been restless.”

“Visions.”

He nodded, “Well, we are here now. Maybe your mind can rest. Being out on the water with nothing to do gives it too much time to wander.”

She chuckled, “This is true.”

She had conflicting visions disturbing her spirit. Two men. Her heart was being pulled in two directions. She shook her head. What does it mean? She wondered.

Both men reminded her of the sea. Cool, calm, comforting, peaceful, and yet, they possessed a quiet rage that could destroy. She shook the visions off and gathered her things before leaving the boat.

They were camped out in the woods. Harald stood talking with Jarl Erik, “The kingdom is small and should be easy to subdue. All we have to do is wait for the perfect time.”

Jarl Sigurd was by a stream of water when he saw a small group traveling through. He saw her. It was as if time stood still. Her hair. The curls, the way it flowed as the wind blew. Her eyes shined a bright green. He was still. He watched as she left the group. Her voice was melodic, “I shall only be but a moment,” she said to her companions. She stopped by the stream and took a deep breath.

He heard her chanting in some unknown tongue. His eyebrows furrowed. Harald approached and placed his hand on his shoulder, “Well, well, that’s a nice piece of arse.”

Jarl Sigurd turned to him in disgust, “Watch your filthy mouth.”

Harold cleared his throat, “My apologies. I didn’t know you were such a gentleman.”

They saw her pause. Her head turned right. They hid. She shrugged and left the creek. They watched as she walked with such commanding elegance. “Where do you think they’re going,” Harald asked as he and Sigurd walked back to where Erick stood talking to Sven.

“I cannot say. There are not of these lands.”

“Who?” asked Sven.

“We saw a small group headed north. They were speaking some language I’ve never heard.”

Jarl Erik nodded.

“I say we slit their throats and take whatever they have,” said Harold with a wild look in his eyes.

“We will not.” Sigurd stood firm as he eyed him, “Our business is not with those people. Let them be.”

Jarl Erik saw how adamant Sigurd was, “I have to agree. Such a small group. There is no honor in taking advantage of them. We kill only when needed and take only if negotiations fail.”

Harold grunted, snorted, and then spat near Jarl Sigurd’s boot. He walked away grumbling. Sigurd shook his head, “I know he is your kin, but he is quite the fool.”

Erik chuckled, “Sadly he is mostly braun and very little brains.”

Sven chuckled, “Was she at least pretty?”

They saw how Sigurd’s eyes shined. His cheeks nearly turned five shades of red. Sven placed his hand on Sigurd’s shoulder and rocked it playfully, “You should not have eyes for another so soon. Were you not recently wedded?”

Erick laughed, “He can have two wives ... like me.”

Sigurd smiled, “I like the sound of that.” His mind flashed to the day he was married. He sighed. It was the first time he thought about Yana.

“Well, I suppose we should head back for the others,” said Jarl Erik.

As they marched along the narrow dirt path, a vision clear as day came to Yande. The man’s blue eyes gazed upon her. She saw the intricate details of the markings on his neck, chest, and arm. It was him again. “Who are you?” she asked softly.

He smiled and the vision left her. She sighed, “How much longer?” she asked her father in Portuguese.

“Not far. We will be there shortly,” he responded joyfully.

The land was lush. Yande smiled when she saw all the trees, and the flowers in the garden, “It is beautiful,” she commented merrily.

The Royal family greeted them outside of the castle. Queen Olivia’s smile went from ear to ear, “Cousin, you and your family have arrived,” she said as she surveyed them, “wait, where is your beautiful wife?”

“Unfortunately, she was not feeling well enough to make the voyage.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes. She is with child.”

“Oh that is splendid,” she stared at Samba and then Yande, “My how you two have grown. Simply beautiful.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Yande and then Samba.

Yande reached for something out of a chest they brought with them, she presented it to the King, “For you, King Henry. It is from my mother’s homeland.”

He smiled as he surveyed the sword, “This is quite lovely, Lady Yande, Thank you one thousand times.”

She bowed and then gifted the Queen some fine fabric.

Twin girls stood by eagerly, “Cousin, did you bring anything for us?” they asked sweetly.

Yande smiled, “Of course I did. I couldn’t forget the prettiest girls in all of England. She handed them pretty ribbons and combs for their hair and two pretty dolls.

Exicted they accepted their gifts and thanked her. The Prince stood next to his father. Yande reached for another item, “And this is for you, Prince Joseph,” she said as she handed him a beautifully crafted crossbow.

“With gratitude, Lady Yande,” he said as he accepted his gift.

“You’ve traveled such a long way, come inside and rest awhile before the feast. We have guests arriving. One who is a big admirer of your writings, Lord Joaquin.”

“Wonderful.”

Lord Edgar stood outside surveying the fine crossbow that Prince Joseph recently received, “This is remarkable. Do even know how to use it?”

“I do not. I’m sure it isn’t difficult.”

They looked out to where Yande stood by the fountain reading stories to the girls. Lord Edgar smiled, “She is quite lovely.”

“Who?”

He chuckled, “The Lady Yande. Portugese and African. Her skin. Her hair. Those full lips. And her hips.”

The prince rolled his eyes, “You seem more interested than I. Why don’t you take her?”

“Well, my dearest friend, if I wasn’t already married, I’d certainly ask for her hand.”

He scoffed, “And risk it?”

“Risk what?”

“You know what. Her mother is African. Any of your babies could be born with brown skin.”