Главная страница | Современная зарубежная литература | The Viking′s Touch

The Viking's Touch
Joanna Fulford


BARGAIN WITH A VIKING DEVIL! His life of old shattered, Wulfgar Ragnarsson lives only for the moment, cheating death and growing rich as a legendary mercenary. His heart may be frozen, but his desire burns hot for courageous widow Lady Anwyn, who needs his protection. . .For the safety of her son, Anwyn will risk everything. Even giving herself to a Viking warrior who teaches her not all men are monsters – but who seems incapable of love. . .Praise for THE VIKING’S DEFIANT BRIDE: ‘Fulford’s story of lust and love set in the Dark Ages is reminiscent of Woodiwiss’ The Flame and the Flower. ’ – RT Book Reviews












‘I thought … I thought he had killed you.’


Her voice shook with delayed reaction and he heard it with some surprise.

‘I am not so easy to kill, my sweet.’ He hesitated. ‘Would it have grieved you, then, if he had?’

‘Of course it would.’

‘Gold would buy you another protector.’

‘I don’t want another protector.’

Anwyn swayed towards him. Then his mouth was on hers. He felt her arms slide around his neck, her body pressed against his. And then she was kissing him back. His heart seemed to skip several beats. The kiss grew deeper, more intimate. Desire flared.




AUTHOR NOTE


The birth of Wulfgar at the conclusion to THE VIKING’S DEFIANT BRIDE not only rounded off the story, but left it on a note of optimism for the future. It also offered the possibility of a sequel. Twenty-seven years after the events in that book, England was a different place. The Danelaw had been established in the north and Alfred had defeated the great Viking leader, Guthrum. However, other Viking raiders still harried the coasts of England and Europe. Among the most notorious was Rollo. He was clever as well as daring, and seemed to be an ideal candidate for a projected partnership with my hero. Of course events don’t play out as Wulfgar expects, because on his way to join the pirate force a storm blows his ship off course. The need for urgent repairs causes him and his men to put in at an apparently deserted bay on the coast of East Anglia. That in turn sets off a chain of unforeseen events and life-changing decisions.

Having lived in Norfolk as a student many years ago, I am familiar with East Anglia. A fascinating area, with a rich and diverse history, it certainly repays exploration. It is also scenically attractive, with gentle green countryside and the huge skies that have proved an inspiration to so many painters. The coast has its own attractions. The big resorts like Great Yarmouth and Hunstanton draw thousands of visitors every year. I have always preferred the more remote, less populated areas, with their rolling dunes, sandy bays and huge expanses of grey-green water. I have drawn on those experiences in this book. When one stands on the edge of the dunes and looks out across the North Sea it isn’t hard to visualise a striped sail on the horizon.




About the Author


JOANNA FULFORD is a compulsive scribbler, with a passion for literature and history, both of which she has studied to postgraduate level. Other countries and cultures have always exerted a fascination, and she has travelled widely, living and working abroad for many years. However, her roots are in England, and are now firmly established in the Peak District, where she lives with her husband Brian. When not pressing a hot keyboard she likes to be out on the hills, either walking or on horseback. However, these days equestrian activity is confined to sedate hacking rather than riding at high speed towards solid obstacles.

Previous novels by the same author:

THE VIKING’S DEFIANT BRIDE

(part of the Mills & Boon Presents … anthology,

featuring talented new authors)

THE WAYWARD GOVERNESS

THE LAIRD’S CAPTIVE WIFE

THE COUNTERFEIT CONDESA



Did you know that some of these novelsare also available as eBooks?Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk




The Viking’s Touch


Joanna Fulford






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


In loving memory of Pam Barnard




Prologue







Northumbria—AD 889

Tongues of flames from the roof leaped thirty feet into the night sky and the heat grew so intense that it forced the spectators back. Grim-faced, they watched helplessly as the hall was consumed, beam and rafter and shingle backlit in a blaze of scarlet and orange. Acrid smoke oozed from the timbered walls and poured from the doorway, thickening the eerie glow. No one spoke. The only sounds were of crackling wood and the roar of the fire.

Wulfgar stood unmoving, like a man petrified by fell enchantment, and looked upon the destruction of the place he had once called home, the pyre of those he loved most. The light of the flames dyed his face blood-red and lent his gaze a terrible aspect. All the thoughts behind lay buried, overwhelmed by grief and anger too deep for utterance. His sword companions stood a little way off with the rest, watching in horrified silence from the edges of a vast darkness.

Time lost all meaning. Oblivious to fatigue and chill, Wulfgar remained there until grey dawn stole through the trees. Its pallid light revealed a black and smoking ruin. He did not notice the soft thud of hoof falls on turf or the creak of saddle leather as the rider dismounted. Only when the horseman stood beside him did he look round and, as one emerging from a long sleep, come slowly to consciousness.

The vivid blue gaze that met his might have been the mirror of his own. The face, lined now with age, also bore a striking resemblance to his. However, his father’s hair was now more grey than dark. Similar in height to Wulfgar, he bore himself erect and his powerful frame carried yet its familiar aura of power. For the space of several heartbeats the two men surveyed each other in silence. Wulfgar was the first to look away.

‘I should have been here,’ he said.

Wulfrum shook his head. ‘It would have changed nothing.’

‘I failed them when they needed me most.’

‘You could not have foreseen this.’

‘She begged me not to go, but I paid no heed. Tried to convince myself it was for her and the child I was doing it.’ Wulfgar’s voice shook. ‘It was my own selfishness that brought them to this.’

‘You could not have saved them, any more than you could have saved all the others who died.’

‘I could have tried.’

‘Aye, but the result would likely have been the same. The fever makes no distinctions. It kills noble and base-born together.’

‘That doesn’t help.’

‘No, only time will do that.’

‘Will it?’

Wulfrum paused. ‘What will you do now?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You could return to Ravenswood for a while.’ The words were casually spoken, but underlain with something quite different. ‘There will always be a place for you.’

‘My place was here,’ replied Wulfgar, ‘but there is no going back.’

His father pursed his lips and looked away, past the ruin to the trees beyond. ‘So, you will rejoin Guthrum then?’

‘Guthrum grows old and his days of war are over. It’s my belief he’ll not live much longer.’

‘What then?’

‘I don’t know. Something else.’

‘You don’t have to decide now. Take some time, think about it.’

‘Ah, what was it you once said? “We are the decisions we make.”’ Wulfgar’s lip curled in self-mockery. ‘Well, mine are turned to ashes and I am to blame for that.’ He turned to face his father. ‘If there is any future for me now, it will not be found here.’




Chapter One







East Anglia—Six years later

Wulfgar stood at the ship’s prow, his keen gaze scanning the curve of yellow sand and the rolling dunes beyond, but the small bay was deserted save for the gulls riding currents of air. Heavy cloud scudded across a lowering sky, the remnant of the previous night’s storm. The only sounds were the wind and the crash of the surf along the shore where churned sand and a line of bladderwrack and driftwood remained to testify to its passing.

‘This will do well enough,’ he said. ‘We’ll bring her in here.’

Beside him Hermund nodded. ‘Where do you reckon here is?’

‘The Anglian coast probably, although it’s hard to be certain.’

‘Well, it seems quiet enough, my lord.’

‘All the same, we’ll send out a party of men to check.’

‘Right you are.’

Wulfgar gave the order and a few minutes later the ship’s keel ploughed into sand. The crew shipped oars and Wulfgar, with half-a-dozen others, vaulted over the gunwale into the surf and waded ashore. They sprinted up the beach and climbed the dunes. Beyond lay an expanse of heath interspersed with rough turf and clumps of yellow gorse. In the distance were cultivated strips and stands of trees.

‘It’ll do,’ said Wulfgar.

Hermund surveyed the surrounding landscape, his weathered face thoughtful, shrewd grey eyes missing nothing. At three and thirty he was six years older than his companion and a few strands of grey hair showed among the brown, but the quiet deference with which he treated the latter revealed their relative positions in the world.

‘Aye, my lord. All the same those fields must belong to someone.’

‘We’ll post guards.’

‘The local inhabitants may be friendly, of course.’

‘Perhaps,’ replied Wulfgar. ‘Although I wasn’t planning on staying around long enough to get acquainted. We have an appointment to keep.’

‘Rollo won’t quibble; he needs warriors and he wants the best.’

‘He’ll get them, and pay handsomely for the privilege.’

Hermund grinned. ‘Naturally.’

They turned and led the way back to the ship where teams of men had already begun to drag her higher up the beach.

‘We’ve done all right in the last six years,’ Hermund continued. ‘If luck stays with us, we’ll be able to retire soon on the proceeds.’

Wulfgar made no reply. His silence was not due to inattention; he had heard the words perfectly well and privately acknowledged their truth. He commanded a body of fighting men whose reputation went ahead of them: they could name their price in the full expectation of it being paid without argument. And luck had certainly been with them in that respect. Some even went so far as to say that their leader bore a charmed life for he emerged unscathed from every conflict. He had no fear of death; for a while he had actively sought it. Yet, perversely, death mocked him, often tantalisingly close in the heat of combat, but remaining always out of reach. He had resigned himself to it now, watching with cynical amusement as his wealth increased.

Unaware of his chief’s thoughts, Hermund surveyed the damage to the ship. ‘Torn sail, broken yard, cracked rudder … but we got off lightly, all things considered. Only three men hurt, too.’

‘Aye, it could have been worse.’

‘Several times back there I thought we were food for the fishes.’

‘If we don’t fix the damage, we soon will be,’ said Wulfgar. ‘Organise a work detail while I check on the injured.’

Moments later Hermund’s voice rang out, ‘Thrand! Beorn! Asulf! Get that sail down! Dag and Frodi, help them to free that yard! The rest of you over here …’

As they hastened to obey, the ship became a hive of activity. Wulfgar watched for a few moments, then went over to see the injured men. In the course of the storm one had fallen and concussed himself and a second had a deep and ragged gash along his arm, which was going to require stitching. The third had broken ribs. However, now that they were ashore the injuries could be treated more easily, and Wulfgar offered what reassurance he could.

Having done that, he rejoined the others. Several days’ hard labour lay ahead, but he didn’t mind it; hard labour meant forgetfulness, his mind focused on the present. Time dulled pain, but not memory. Only work could do that, for a while at least.

It was about an hour later when one of the lookouts recalled his attention. ‘Riders approaching, my lord.’

Wulfgar looked up quickly, narrowing his eyes against the wind. He saw the strangers at once: six horsemen reined in on the edge of the bay some hundred yards distant. Their attention was clearly focused on the ship.

‘Damn.’

The word was softly spoken, but Hermund caught it all the same. ‘What do you want to do?’

‘That depends on them. We’ll wait and discover their intent. It may just be curiosity.’

‘Perhaps.’

Wulfgar surveyed the newcomers. ‘We’re not looking for trouble. Tell the men to keep their weapons within reach, but no one’s to use them without my say so.’

‘Will do.’ His companion glanced at the riders again. ‘At least there are only six of them.’

‘That we can see.’

‘Point taken.’

The horsemen rode out on to the beach at an easy pace. Now they were closer Wulfgar could see that all of them were armed. However, their hands were conspicuously clear of their sword hilts. He noted it; if there really were only six, they weren’t about to stir up trouble, particularly when they didn’t know as yet whom they might be dealing with.

The riders halted a few yards clear of the nearest crew members. Their leader, a burly figure in his late thirties perhaps, leaned on the saddle pommel and looked around, stony-faced, impassive, cold eyes taking in the details. Sound died as the crew returned the attention. For several moments both groups weighed each other up.

‘Part of somebody’s war band or I miss my guess,’ murmured Hermund.

Wulfgar nodded almost imperceptibly. ‘My thought exactly. The question is, where are the others and how many?’

The leader of the horsemen broke the surrounding silence. ‘Who is chief of this rabble crew?’

‘That would be me.’ Wulfgar strolled forwards. ‘Was there something you wanted?’

The stranger’s lip curled in a sneer. ‘You’re trespassing.’

‘The shore belongs to no man,’ replied Hermund.

‘Not this bit of shore.’

‘Unfortunately my ship was damaged in the storm last night,’ explained Wulfgar. ‘We need to carry out repairs.’

‘Well, go and do them somewhere else. You’re not wanted here, Viking.’

Wulfgar held his temper. ‘The work will only take a few days. When it’s complete we’ll leave.’

‘You’ll go now if you know what’s good for you. Lord Ingvar doesn’t like intruders, especially not pirates.’

‘That is unfortunate.’

‘Unfortunate for you right enough.’ He smiled nastily, an expression mirrored in the faces of his five companions.

‘That remains to be seen.’

‘So you’re telling me you’re not leaving?’

Wulfgar nodded. ‘That’s about the size of it.’

For a moment the other met and held his gaze. Then he shrugged and turned his horse’s head. ‘Don’t say you weren’t warned.’

With that the mounted group turned and cantered away.

‘Nice,’ said Hermund. ‘I reckon we can expect another visit quite soon, and with reinforcements.’

‘They could have been bluffing,’ replied Thrand.

Hermund shook his head. ‘Not a chance. He’d never have made the threat unless he knew he could back it up.’

‘Hermund’s right,’ said Wulfgar.

Thrand grinned. ‘Do we get ready for a fight then, my lord?’

‘We do.’

The men around them exchanged anticipatory glances. Thrand’s fist closed on the hilt of his dagger.

‘I’ll look forward to silencing Big Mouth myself.’

‘Don’t count your chickens,’ said Hermund. ‘We don’t know how many friends Big Mouth has got yet.’

‘Just so,’ replied Wulfgar, ‘which is why we need to be ready for them. Arm yourselves.’




Chapter Two







Anwyn held her mount to a steady walk, her gaze on the horizon where the grey sea formed a darker smudge against the sky. White caps chased across the bay and even from this distance she could hear the roar of surf along the strand. The breeze was cool and smelled of salt and damp earth, a reminder of last night’s storm. Even so, it was good to be out of doors again. Good to have the choice.

‘The clouds will soon be gone now, my lady.’ She glanced at her maid riding alongside her and smiled faintly. ‘I hope so, Jodis.’ Privately she wondered if the clouds were not gathering about them rather than dissipating. However, to have said so just then would have been to destroy her companion’s cheerful mood.

The girl had accompanied her when, five years earlier, Anwyn had been sent by her father to wed Earl Torstein. In those dark days she had acted more as friend and confidante than personal maid. At twenty Jodis was much of an age with her mistress, too, though taller and more sturdily built. Now she gestured towards the older man and child who rode a little way ahead.

‘Eyvind has taken well to horsemanship,’ the maid observed.

‘Yes, he has.’

‘He used to be such a quiet child but he’s gained more confidence since—’ Jodis broke off and amended hastily, ‘gained more confidence now.’

‘It’s all right. You can say it. He has gained confidence since his father died.’ Anwyn’s green eyes deepened with contained emotion. ‘Of late he has really begun to come out of his shell.’

Jodis nodded. ‘That he has.’

‘Ina has played a large part in that. He is a good mentor for the child.’ Anwyn smiled faintly. ‘Eyvind looks up to him. These days almost every sentence starts with “Ina says …”’

‘Aye, it does. I think if Ina told him to stand on his head in the midden, Eyvind would do it.’

‘That he would. For all his gruff ways, Ina has been more of a father-figure than Torstein ever was.’

‘You are both free now, my lady. Torstein cannot hurt you more.’

‘He cannot.’

Jodis heard the inflection and understood at once. ‘But Lord Ingvar could.’

‘His reputation is well known.’

Jodis shuddered. ‘And well earned, too, as we have proof.’

‘No solid proof; he’s too clever for that. The loss of livestock or the burning of a rick might easily be attributed to other causes.’

‘That’s a lot of unexplained mishaps.’

‘Too many, and yet I dare not openly accuse him. In any case it is his men who carry out these deeds, not he himself. Thus he can pretend innocence. By keeping up the pressure he thinks that I’ll give in eventually.’

‘How does he dare to face you?’

‘Pretence comes naturally to him. The man is a predator. One only needs to be in his company for ten minutes to know it.’

The maid looked up quickly. ‘He has not taken liberties, my lady?’

‘No, he’s not that stupid. He hides cruelty behind a smooth manner and honeyed words. I will never deliver myself or my son into his clutches, nor my people, neither.’

‘No-one could blame you for that. All the same, he grows more importunate.’

Anwyn sighed. ‘Don’t I know it?’

Lord Ingvar’s face loomed large in her mind; with its almost aristocratic lines framed by pale gold hair some might have considered it handsome, but for the thin-lipped mouth and the slanting gold-brown eyes that reminded her of a hunting cat. A little above the average height, he also had the lean form of a cat. The words of their last conversation were etched on her memory …

‘Think about it, Anwyn. Beranhold lands adjoin yours. What could be more practical or more sensible than to merge our two estates? My war band is strong. Put yourself under my protection.’

‘I thank you, my lord, but I have protection enough.’

‘Ah, yes. Torstein guarded you well, did he not? I don’t blame him for that; I would do exactly the same.’

A sudden chill raised gooseflesh along her arms. ‘I am quite sure of it.’

His voice grew softer, almost tender. ‘Would you not prefer to let a man shoulder the burdens for you?’

‘I can shoulder my own burdens well enough.’

‘That you are courageous is not in doubt. However, widowhood is a sad condition and a lonely one, especially for so lovely a woman.’ One hand reached out and lightly touched the edge of her braid. ‘Do you not long for a man to share your bed again—especially a man who appreciates beauty and knows how to please a woman?’

Her gut tightened. ‘I am not ready to marry again.’

‘You say so now, but I know how to be patient.’

‘Do not hold out hopes of me, my lord.’

‘When I set my heart on something I use every means at my disposal to get it.’

Anwyn suppressed a shiver at the memory. ‘I refused his suit long since,’ she continued, ‘yet barely a week goes by without his calls on some pretext or other.’

‘He is much smitten.’

‘Smitten with lands and wealth more like.’

Jodis shook her head. ‘A woman alone is vulnerable. You won’t be able to hold him off for ever, unless …’

‘Unless what?’

‘Unless you were to find another husband.’

‘I have no desire to marry again.’

‘If you do not, your father will choose for you.’

‘He has already intimated as much,’ replied Anwyn, ‘or at least my brother did when last he visited. Torstein had barely been dead three months! Osric takes after Father in his determination to increase our family’s wealth and holdings.’

‘Both of them are determined, my lady, and they see you as the key to future success.’

‘Another marriage for me; another step on the ladder to power for them. A wealthy northern earl, Osric said.’ Anwyn grimaced. ‘But I will not suffer them to make another match for me.’

‘You will likely have no choice, my lady. Your father is powerful and ambitious.’

‘He has furthered his ambitions at my expense already.’

‘But you remain a desirable marital prize.’

‘Maybe so, but the very thought of another marriage is repugnant to me.’

‘I did not mean a husband like Earl Torstein,’ Jodis replied, ‘but a good man, a kind man even.’

‘A man who is both good and kind? Now there’s a thought.’

Before either of them could say more, the child’s voice broke in. ‘Mother, can we have a canter now?’ He and his mentor had halted their mounts, waiting for her to draw level. The child’s green eyes were eager, pleading. ‘Ina says I can if you give your permission.’

Anwyn looked over his head at his companion. For all his fifty years the old warrior was still an upright figure whose sturdy frame spoke of compact strength. Grizzled locks and beard belied a shrewd mind and his dark eyes missed very little. He had besides an air of quiet authority. In the days after Torstein’s death he had been an invaluable ally, one she had learned to trust.

‘Very well, then, just as far as the dunes.’ She paused. ‘And be sure to take it steady.’

Needing no further encouragement, Eyvind turned the pony’s head and clapped his heels to its sides. The sturdy little creature broke into a canter. Beside him, Ina reined back, checking his mount’s longer stride to keep pace. Anwyn grinned and looked at Jodis.

‘How about it?’

Moments later their horses were cantering after the others. It was perhaps four hundred yards to the dunes, but the swifter pace was exhilarating and Anwyn fought the temptation to let the horse out to a gallop. It felt so good to ride out again without constraint, to feel the wind in her face, to feel almost free.

When at length they pulled up she found herself laughing, her spirit lighter than it had been earlier. She leaned forwards and patted the horse’s neck. Eyvind eyed her hopefully.

‘Can we ride along the shore, Mother?’

She knew he was thinking of another canter along the strand, but she had not the heart to refuse. Besides, she had no mind to return just yet either. ‘Why not?’

They rode single file through the dunes, letting the horses pick their way, and came at last to the bay beyond. Ina and Eyvind stopped abruptly.

‘Mother, look!’

Anwyn followed the line of his pointing finger and stared in her turn, her startled gaze taking in the ship drawn up on the beach and before it the massed host of the crew. There had to be seventy of them at least.

‘A warship,’ said Ina.

Uneasiness replaced her earlier mood. ‘But why would it put in here?’

‘At a guess it’s been damaged. See the sail spread out there?’

She nodded. ‘That would certainly explain their presence.’

Looking more closely, she surveyed the crew. Though they were apparently giving their whole attention to the sail and yard that lay on the sand, she noted that all of them were armed with sword or axe and that shields and spears were within easy reach. She wasn’t the only one to mark it.

‘Professionals definitely,’ said Ina.

‘But apparently not aggressors,’ she replied.

‘No. They’re coming now.’ He nodded towards the force that had just appeared on the far side of the bay.

Anwyn frowned. ‘Who on earth …?’

‘Ingvar’s war band, my lady.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Quite sure. That’s Grymar out in front.’

‘But they have no business here. This bay adjoins my lands.’

‘Which they must have crossed to reach it,’ he replied.

‘How dare he?’

‘Even Grymar would not have presumed so far unless the action had been sanctioned by someone more powerful.’

‘He takes his orders directly from Ingvar.’

‘Just so, my lady.’

The implication was disturbing. Under Ina’s stewardship her late husband’s men patrolled and guarded Drakensburgh, and they had no need of help from Ingvar. The fact that he had taken it upon himself to send an armed force onto her land had ramifications she did not care for. It was as though he were already adopting the mantle of lord protector, a role she had no intention of granting him.

‘This bodes ill,’ she said.

Ina nodded. ‘Where Grymar’s concerned it never bodes anything else. That one would slit his grandmother’s throat for the fun of it.’

‘This must be a show of strength. He cannot seriously intend to fight.’ She hesitated. ‘Can he?’

‘I have a gut feeling that’s exactly what he does intend, my lady.’

Wulfgar watched the war band approaching, mentally estimating their number. His jaw tightened. There must be fifty of them. His own force was larger and he had every faith in their prowess, but any confrontation was likely to be bloody and expensive. However, since the ship was effectively crippled there was no real choice. He glanced at Hermund.

‘Have the men fall in.’

‘Aye, my lord.’

They formed up alongside him, waiting.

‘Let them start it if they must,’ said Wulfgar, ‘but after they have make them regret it.’

The words were greeted with grim smiles as each man there eyed the advancing foe with shrewd, appraising eyes. Fists tightened on shield straps and sword hilts.

Anwyn felt a knot of apprehension form in her stomach. Even from a distance now there was no mistaking what was about to happen. She looked across at Ina.

‘I will not have a blood bath on my land though a dozen Ingvars wished it.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘Stop it, of course.’

‘A laudable aim, my lady, but you will have noticed that together they number well over a hundred while we …’

‘Yes, I know. However, this bay abuts onto my land, not theirs.’

‘True, but I don’t quite see …’

‘We have right on our side, Ina.’

‘Oh, well, naturally that makes all the difference.’

‘Exactly.’ Anwyn turned in the saddle. ‘Jodis, stay here and look after Eyvind. Ina, come with me.’

With that she nudged her mount forward and cantered away across the sand. Ina stared after her in disbelief. Then, setting his jaw, he rode off in her wake.

Watching the oncoming force, Hermund frowned. ‘Have we fetched up at a local rallying point by any chance?’

‘Could be.’ Wulfgar followed the line of his gaze. ‘We do seem to have kicked a hornets’ nest, don’t we?’

‘How in the name of the Nidhoggr could Big Mouth have this many friends?’ muttered Thrand.

Beorn shook his head. ‘Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?’

Wulfgar made no reply, mentally estimating the distance between themselves and the advancing warriors. Seventy yards … fifty yards … forty. He watched as the line of their spears shifted from the vertical to the fore.

‘Here we go,’ muttered Hermund.

Beside him, Wulfgar drew his sword. ‘All right, lads—’

He broke off, seeing a blur of movement from the corner of his eye. The blur became a galloping horse. Moments later the rider reined hard and the animal plunged to a halt between the two opposing forces. Almost simultaneously a woman’s voice rang out.

‘Stop this at once! All of you!’

The oncoming warriors stopped in their tracks. All eyes turned towards the speaker. Wulfgar mentally registered a slender figure in a deep blue gown. It was partly concealed by a grey mantle over which a thick red-gold braid flowed like a river of fire. Then she turned in his direction and for a moment he forgot to breathe.

‘Thor’s blood,’ muttered Thrand.

Beorn stared. ‘Am I really seeing what I think I’m seeing?’

‘No, you’re dreaming, Brother.’

‘Don’t wake me then, I beg.’

Wulfgar could understand the thinking, although clearly the woman before him was a living being and not a dream. Before he could pursue the thought she spoke again.

‘There will be no bloodshed here!’

Hermund leaned on his spear and his craggy features split in a broad grin. ‘Well, Frigg alone knows where we are, but it was worth coming just for this.’

Wulfgar’s eyes gleamed and he relaxed the grip on his sword hilt. ‘You never said a truer word, my friend.’ Even as he answered his mind was buzzing. Who was she? Why had she intervened? What manner of woman would dare to come between two opposing war bands? Not only dare to come between, but do it in the expectation of being obeyed? His curiosity mounted.

Ignoring the collective attention focused on her, Anwyn turned to confront Grymar. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

He jerked his head towards the ship’s crew some twenty yards distant. ‘My men and I were about to get rid of these scurvy intruders, my lady.’

‘On whose orders?’

‘Those of Lord Ingvar.’

‘These are my lands,’ she replied. ‘Lord Ingvar has no jurisdiction here.’

Grymar reddened. ‘He desires that we protect you, my lady.’

‘That is most kind of him, but I have my own protection.’ She gestured towards Ina. ‘Your help is not required.’

‘One old man? He couldn’t defend an argument.’

‘Put the matter to the test, oaf, and we’ll see what I can defend,’ growled Ina.

‘I wouldn’t take advantage.’

‘You’d be foolish to try,’ replied Anwyn, ‘especially as there are forty more of my men waiting in the dunes yonder.’

A muscle spasmed Ina’s cheek. However, Grymar missed it, darting a glance to the place she had indicated. The dunes were quiet, the only movement the wind in the marram grass. He regarded her suspiciously.

‘There’s no-one over there.’

Ina raised a grizzled brow. ‘Are you calling my lady a liar?’

Grymar reddened further. ‘I did not say so. I meant only that I cannot see anyone.’

‘That’s because they’re hidden.’

‘Be that as it may, what I am saying is that yonder riff-raff are trespassers.’

‘So are you,’ replied Ina, ‘but if you and your men leave now we’ll overlook it—this time.’

Grymar’s glare was poisonous. ‘Lord Ingvar isn’t going to like this.’

‘Dear me, how awful.’

Anwyn threw Ina a warning glance, knowing she could not afford to make an enemy of Ingvar. He was strong and potentially dangerous. Somehow he had to be kept on side while she made it clear that she would not tolerate this kind of interference in her affairs.

‘Lord Ingvar has always been a good neighbour,’ she replied. ‘He would never have sanctioned such a violation as this.’

Ina nodded. ‘You are right, my lady. It’s my belief that Grymar has acted on his own initiative in an excess of zeal.’

She saw the chance and seized it. ‘Yes, that must be it. His lordship will no doubt be greatly angered when he discovers what has happened.’

Grymar scowled. He knew enough about his master’s ambitions to realise that he would not be pleased by the creation of an open rift with Lady Anwyn. Moreover, it looked now as if all the blame was shifting his way.

‘If I have offended you, my lady, I am sorry for it.’

She favoured him with a haughty stare. ‘You have indeed caused me offence. You will take your men and leave.’

He threw a last look of detestation at her escort and at the ship’s crew, then turned his horse and barked an order to his men. Moments later the whole horde marched away up the beach. As she watched them depart, Anwyn let out the breath she had been holding.

‘Good riddance.’

Ina grimaced. ‘Good riddance indeed, as far as that goes.’

‘They won’t be back’

‘No,’ he replied, ‘they won’t, but that lot are still very much here.’ He jerked his head towards the watching crewmen. ‘And now we have their undivided attention.’




Chapter Three







Anwyn darted a glance at the silent warrior band and felt her heartbeat quicken. For a brief instant she wondered if she had not made a terrible mistake: visions of capture and slavery loomed large. Then resolution reasserted itself. She had come too far to back down now.

Turning her horse, she rode the last few yards towards them. They let her come. What she saw left her in no doubt that Ina was right: they were professionals, bearing themselves with the quiet confidence of men who have nothing to prove. Far from showing any expression of hostility, their faces revealed a very different range of emotions. These covered everything from rapt interest to amusement and frank enjoyment. For some reason it was far more disconcerting than warlike intent could ever have been. Anwyn lifted her chin and took a deep breath. Then, under the gauntlet of their eyes, she sought out the man who led them.

‘Which one of you is chief here?’

From the van of their ranks a man stepped forward. ‘I am.’

For the space of a few heartbeats they surveyed each other in silence. Her gaze took in a lithe and powerful figure clad in a mail shirt worn over leather tunic and breeches. One hand held a fine sword, companion no doubt to the dagger that hung from his belt, and on his left arm he carried a linden-wood shield embossed with iron. The upper part of his face was hidden by the guards of a helmet whose crest bore the likeness of a hunting wolf. Below it she could make out the strong lines of his jaw and mouth. Undisturbed by her scrutiny, he turned and handed the shield to one of his men. Then he removed the helmet and tossed that over, too. As he turned back again, Anwyn’s breath caught in her throat. The face with its chiselled clean-shaven lines was striking for its good looks. A vivid blue gaze met and held hers. In it she saw the same light of amusement she had detected before in his men. Her chin lifted a little higher.

‘Do you have a name?’

‘Do you?’ he replied.

‘I asked first.’

His lips twitched. ‘Lord Wulfgar, at your service.’

‘I am Anwyn, Lady of Drakensburgh.’

‘I beg you will forgive our trespass, my lady. My ship was damaged in the storm yester night and we sought a quiet haven in which to carry out repairs.’

‘A quiet haven?’ she replied. ‘It has hardly been that.’

‘No, but matters would have been much worse had you not intervened.’ He paused. ‘Why did you?’

‘Because I would not have blood shed here for no good cause.’

‘Your neighbours do not share that view.’

‘They had no right to pronounce on the matter.’ Anwyn met his gaze. ‘Yet their suspicions were perhaps not without foundation.’

‘We intend no harm if that is what you mean. We have business elsewhere and once our repairs are complete we will leave.’

‘I see. May I ask whither you are bound?’

‘We go to join Rollo.’

‘Rollo? But he’s a notorious pirate.’

‘That’s right.’

Anwyn paled a little. ‘You are mercenaries then.’

‘Correct.’

This frank admission was deeply disquieting, and rendered all the more so by her inability to read what lay behind that outwardly courteous manner.

‘However,’ he continued,’ until we can repair our vessel all else is irrelevant.’

‘I can see that.’

‘Have we your permission to stay and do the necessary work?’

She took a deep breath. ‘I think you have no choice since your ship cannot leave without it.’

‘We could leave under oars,’ he replied, ‘but the next large wave we encountered would likely sink us.’

‘How long will it take to mend the damage?’

‘With luck, a few days only.’

Relief washed in. She nodded. ‘Very well. Carry out your repairs if you will.’

‘I thank you.’ He paused. ‘One thing more I would ask.’

‘And that is?’

‘The use of a forge if you have one—and a carpenter’s workshop.’

‘That’s two things.’

He smiled. ‘So it is. But then, as I am a mercenary, it cannot surprise you that I should try to secure the best possible bargain.’

His words drew a reluctant answering smile. Inwardly she wondered if she could trust him or whether this was some kind of trick. All the same, the only way to be free of the problem now was to help him.

‘We have both things. Send some men to Drakensburgh tomorrow and we will show them where.’ She pointed to the dunes. ‘The way is yonder, due west about half a league distant.’

‘Again, my thanks, lady.’

Anwyn nodded and turned her horse’s head. Then, accompanied by Ina, she rode back to where Jodis and Eyvind were waiting. Wulfgar looked on in some surprise; he had been so preoccupied with events that he not noticed the presence of the other two figures at the edge of the beach. They were too far away for him to make out details, but again his curiosity stirred. Who were they? What was their connection with Lady Anwyn? He watched as they exchanged a few words and then all four rode away through the dunes.

‘A mighty pretty woman,’ said Hermund, when the last of the riders was gone from view. ‘Courageous, too.’

‘Aye, she is,’ replied Wulfgar.

His companion chuckled softly. ‘I thought that Grymar oaf was going to explode. I’d like to be a fly on the wall when he gets back.’

‘So would I.’

‘His master doesn’t sound much better.’

‘Ingvar?’ said Wulfgar. ‘No matter. We’re not like to meet him anyway.’

‘Small mercies, eh?’

‘As you say.’

‘Well, now that peace has broken out I guess we can get on with those repairs.’

Wulfgar nodded. Then, divesting himself of weapons and armour, he rejoined his men and set to. However, although his hands were busy, his mind returned to recent events and he smiled to himself. Hermund was right; the woman was courageous. He’d never met anyone quite like her. Anwyn. He wouldn’t forget the name or the face, either. No man would. Yet it was the eyes he remembered most clearly; eyes as green as a summer sea and deep enough to drown in …

Unbidden, the memory returned of another pair of eyes, blue this time and bright with welling tears. The face was harder to recall now, though once it had occupied his every waking thought. Freya: golden-haired, gentle, quiet … her beauty had captivated the youth he had been. Captivated for a while, at least. In the final analysis he had been a poor husband to her.

No doubt Lady Anwyn’s lord was smart enough to know what he had; a woman of fire with wit allied to beauty and courage. He caught himself then—where was her husband? If the lady had found it necessary to deal with the situation herself it argued that her man was away—fighting, no doubt. It was a common enough occurrence. Had he not done the same?

He sighed. It was too late for regret or remorse, though he had experienced both. We are the decisions we make. It was true, thought Wulfgar, which was why he found himself wandering the earth with a group of mercenaries: fighting, feasting, living for the day. It wasn’t a bad life, take it all in all. Anyway, what else was there now? Eventually, of course, his luck would run out, or the gods would tire of him, and he would meet his end on some field of battle. So long as he died with a sword in his hand and could take his place in Odin’s hall, the time and place of his demise mattered little. All that mattered was the readiness.

The afternoon’s encounter had also left Anwyn much preoccupied and not a little concerned. It dominated her thoughts even after she had retired. By now Lord Ingvar would have heard the tale and would, no doubt, be greatly displeased. She could almost certainly expect another visit from him in the near future. As if that were not enough a force of trained mercenaries was presently encamped on her land, or as good as. Now that there was leisure to reflect, she wondered if her earlier decision had been the right one. She sighed. It was too late for that. If they chose to take advantage, she would be caught between a rock and a hard place. Yet their leader had not seemed treacherous to her. On the contrary.

Unbidden, his face returned in sharp relief. The memory was disturbing. She had never met anyone quite like him; he bore all the trappings of the warrior, radiated an aura of strength, but she had not felt personally threatened. He did not make her feel as Ingvar did when in her company; as Torstein had made her feel. Indeed, when she had ridden away the sensation had been quite different, almost as though something had been lost. It was difficult to account for, difficult and perturbing. Unable to sleep, she crept from the bed and, wrapping herself in a mantle against the night air, went silently to the adjoining chamber where her son lay sleeping. For a long time she watched him. He was the one good thing to come from her marriage. His birth had been long and hard, but Eyvind made sense of all the rest; he was the reason she kept on living, the reason she submitted to Torstein’s will.

Anwyn shivered and pulled her mantle closer. Torstein was dead. Her son was safe from him. She bent over the child and dropped a kiss on his forehead. He stirred a little, but did not wake. Looking at him lying there, she suddenly felt fiercely protective. As long as she had breath in her body no harm should come to him. She must look after his interests until he grew to manhood. Nothing else mattered now. It would not be easy; her family was ambitious and, as Jodis had said, a woman alone was vulnerable.

Returning to bed, Anwyn curled up, pulling the coverlet close. Tired now, she closed her eyes and let her body relax, pushing the day’s events from her mind. Gradually the bed grew warmer and sleep eventually claimed her. However, it came with the same troubling dreams …

Somewhere she heard a door opening, heavy footsteps in the outer chamber, a hand drawing aside the partitioning curtain to reveal her husband’s ursine figure silhouetted against the dim light beyond. At forty Torstein was more than twice her age. Though only of average height, his bulk reinforced the impression of bearlike strength. The dome of his head was bald, the remaining fringe of hair worn long and tightly braided into numerous thin plaits that hung past his shoulders like rats’ tails. A moustache and bushy, grizzled beard concealed a thin mouth and hid the lower part of a heavily lined face from which small black eyes surveyed the world with quiet cunning. Now they came to rest on her and glinted.

Crossing the intervening space to the bed, he threw aside his cloak and, unfastening his belt, pulled off his tunic and tossed it after the mantle. His shirt followed, revealing the mat of crisp black hair that covered his torso. Anwyn stiffened, feeling the mattress sag beneath his weight. He unfastened his breeches and then reached for her. She tried to turn away, but strong hands dragged her back and a gust of fetid breath hit her in the face. Sickened, she turned her head aside.

‘Torstein, it’s late and I’m tired.’

‘You’ll do as you’re bid.’

He fumbled for her linen kirtle and dragged it up around her waist so that her lower body was naked. Involuntarily she shuddered. As he leaned closer his hairy paunch scratched her belly, the beefy, leering face within inches of hers.

‘I thought I’d schooled you in obedience,’ he went on, ‘but perhaps I was mistaken.’

She bit back the reply that she wanted to utter, knowing better. ‘My lord, you are not mistaken.’

‘No? Let’s see, shall we?’

Anwyn woke with a start, panting, heart pounding, staring wide-eyed into the furthest corners of the room. Nothing moved. Her gaze came to rest on the bed. The place beside her was empty. She was alone. Slowly she let out a long breath as her mind assimilated the knowledge. Torstein was never coming back. As the minutes passed, horror was replaced by relief so intense it left her trembling. She swallowed hard and lowered herself onto the pillows again, waiting for her heartbeat to quiet a little. Torstein was never coming back. Now Ingvar waited, biding his time.

‘Never,’ she murmured. ‘Not while I have breath.’ To think that once, long ago in another life, she had dreamed of being married, of having a man’s love. She smiled wryly. How naïve she had been then to think that the two things went together. All such girlhood fantasies were long gone; if love between husband and wife existed in this world it was for others, not for her.




Chapter Four







The following morning Wulfgar left Hermund in charge of the ship and, accompanied by Thrand, Beorn and Asulf, set off for Drakensburgh. Built on a low hill and surrounded by a deep ditch and a high, spiked wooden pale, it wasn’t hard to find.

‘Balder’s toenails! The place is a fortress,’ said Thrand. ‘Whoever lives here is a man of some importance.’

‘Is this a good idea, my lord?’ asked Beorn. ‘It could be a trap.’

All three men looked at Wulfgar. He shook his head. ‘I don’t think so, but keep your wits about you all the same. Come on.’

They reached the wooden bridge that spanned the ditch and, when challenged, identified themselves. It seemed they were expected. There followed sounds of a bar being removed and then the small wicket gate swung open to admit them. From there they were escorted across a large compound in which stood various buildings. Wulfgar noted a barn, storehouses, workshops and small dwellings before at length they came to a large timbered hall. Fantastically carved pillars flanked the great oaken doors. However, the atmosphere within was more sombre. The only light came from the open portal and the hole in the roof above the rectangular hearth pit where the remains of a fire smouldered in a bed of ash. Through the gloom Wulfgar made out smoke-blackened timbers adorned with racks of antlers and wolf masks. Trestle tables and benches were stacked against the walls, but at the far end of the room on a raised platform was a huge oaken chair, carved with the likeness of birds and animals. The air smelled of smoke and ale and stale food.

‘Wait here,’ said the guard. With that he departed and left them alone. The four looked around.

‘A gloomy lair,’ muttered Asulf.

Thrand nodded. ‘You said it. What manner of man lives here?’

‘A powerful one. That chair looks more like a ruddy throne.’

‘Let’s hope its owner is as gracious as his lady.’

In the event it was Lady Anwyn who came to greet them a short time later. Wulfgar felt a pleasurable sense of recognition. She was accompanied by the old warrior he had seen before: Ina. With them was a young boy—the one on the pony, he assumed. Even if the facial likeness had not been apparent, the red-gold hair and green eyes would have proclaimed him her son. Just for a moment he was reminded of another child and another hall and his throat tightened. Forcing the memory from him, he watched his hostess approach.

When word was brought of the men’s arrival Anwyn had wondered if Lord Wulfgar would be one of their number. Indeed, in some part of her mind she had hoped he might. Even so, seeing him there caused her pulse to quicken a little. Last time they met she had been on horseback. She had not realised just how tall he was.

‘Good morning, my lady.’

Recollecting herself, she returned the greeting. ‘You are come to use the forge.’

‘The carpenter’s shop, too, if you have no objection.’

‘None,’ she replied. ‘What is it you require?’

‘We’re going to need a new yard, and there’s a crack in the ship’s rudder that needs reinforcing. If we can fashion a couple of steel plates, that should do the trick. We could also use some bolts.’ He paused. ‘Naturally we will pay a fair price for the wood and the iron.’

‘Naturally.’

He thought he caught a gleam of something like amusement in her eyes, but it was so quickly gone he couldn’t be certain. All the same it intrigued him. He saw that she was wearing a different gown today. The soft mauve colour suited her, enhancing the delicate pink and whiteness in her cheeks and providing a foil for that wonderful hair, confined in a neat braid. He tried to visualise what it looked like unbound, what it felt like to touch.

Aware of his scrutiny but unable to read his thoughts, Anwyn became unwontedly self-conscious and looked away. Mentally chiding herself, she took a deep breath. She was no green girl to be discomposed by a man’s casual regard.

‘I’ll show you the forge,’ she said.

Even as she spoke she knew there was not the least need for her to go with them; Ina could have done it. On the other hand they were visitors here and it was a courtesy. She averted her eyes from Wulfgar’s. Courtesy had nothing to do with it. The truth was that she did not want to lose this man’s company just yet.

They left the hall and set out across the compound. He fell into stride beside her, leaving the others to follow. Despite the decorous space between them every part of her being was aware of him, every part alive to his presence. He made her feel strangely self-conscious, and yet she could not have said why. It was not an unpleasant sensation exactly; rather it was unaccustomed.

For a moment or two neither of them spoke. Then Wulfgar glanced in the child’s direction.

‘Your son?’

‘Yes. Eyvind.’

‘A fine boy. His father must be proud of him.’

‘His father is dead.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He paused. ‘Recently?’

‘Ten months ago.’

‘It cannot be easy for a woman alone.’

‘I manage well enough.’

‘So I infer if yesterday is aught to judge by.’

Something in his tone brought a tinge of colour to her cheeks. Quickly she changed the subject.

‘You are not from these parts, Lord Wulfgar.’

‘No, I grew up in Northumbria.’

‘You have kin there still?’

‘Some.’

He didn’t qualify that and Anwyn didn’t pursue it. After all, it was none of her business.

‘And now you live the life of an adventurer.’

‘That’s right.’

‘It must be exciting.’

‘It has its moments.’

Before she could reply they reached the forge. The smith looked up from his work and, seeing who it was, made his duty to her.

‘My lady?’ He glanced from her to her companions, surveying them with open curiosity.

Anwyn smiled. ‘Ethelwald, we need your help …’

Having performed the introductions, she briefly outlined the situation. The smith listened attentively. ‘It is not a hard task, but I have work on hand that must be completed first. I cannot begin anything new until the morrow.’

‘And the job will take how long?’ asked Wulfgar.

‘A few days, no more,’ the smith replied.

‘We have other places to be. Can it not be done sooner?’

‘No. I must honour the agreements made before you came.’

His men exchanged quizzical glances but, though Wulfgar noted it, he continued to eye the smith steadily.

‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘A man should keep his word. We’ll wait.’

Ethelwald nodded. ‘In that case I’ll do what I can.’

They left him then and made their way across to the carpenter. Ceadda, too, had a task in hand but, on hearing that the newcomers required only tools and would do the work themselves, he readily agreed to let them use his premises.

‘Good. I’ll leave you men to talk, then.’ Anwyn took hold of Eyvind’s hand and then turned to go. Instead she encountered gentle resistance.

‘Mother, can I stay and watch? I won’t get in the way, I promise.’

Anwyn hesitated. Seeing it, Ina interjected. ‘I’ll keep an eye on him, my lady.’ He glanced at their visitors. ‘Make sure he comes to no harm.’

‘All right.’

Eyvind’s face lit with a smile. ‘I promise I’ll be good.’

She returned the smile and squeezed his shoulder gently. ‘See that you are.’

For a brief moment she looked over his head and her gaze met Lord Wulfgar’s. The blue eyes held a gleam of amusement.

‘We’ll all be good,’ he said. ‘I promise.’

Anwyn fought the urge to laugh. There was something about that deadpan expression which was both provoking and enigmatic. Unable to think of a suitable reply and all too conscious of that penetrating gaze, she decided that the wisest course lay in dignified retreat.

The men worked steadily, but it was a hot and arduous task. They were not at all sorry when, an hour or so later, a servant appeared with a jug of ale. Wulfgar acknowledged a moment of disappointment that Lady Anwyn had not brought it herself, but then mentally upbraided himself. Why should she? There must be a dozen tasks awaiting her attention within doors. She had kept her word and let them use the workshops; they had no further claim on her time.

The delay with the iron work was a nuisance, but there wasn’t much to be done about that. Rollo would just have to wait. If he didn’t like it, that was too bad. No doubt they’d make up for lost time with a series of successful raids later. Not that they lacked for wealth. Previous expeditions had proved lucrative enough. We could retire soon … Hermund had been right about that. Retirement from adventuring meant putting down roots again, staying in one place. Wulfgar smiled in self-mockery. It wasn’t going to happen. He was already seven and twenty, long past the time when he might have remarried. Not that he had ever felt the least inclination to do so. In any case, a mercenary’s life was not suited to such responsibilities. His choices now did not hurt innocents. The decisions he made invariably carried a degree of danger but, in the long run, they were likely to benefit his crew. They knew the risks and accepted them. Grown men were not vulnerable in the same ways as women and children, a lesson he had learned too late.

He was drawn from his thoughts by the sensation of being watched. Looking up, he met the child’s eyes. Immediately the boy looked away. Wulfgar smiled, but said nothing. Although the lad was curious, he was also shy. Nothing would be gained by trying to force his confidence. How old was he? Four? Five, perhaps? Too young to have started military training yet, at all events. If he lived so long. Life was precarious, especially for the young. Had that not been clearly demonstrated to him?

‘You’ve got a ship, haven’t you?’

As the boy’s voice recalled him, Wulfgar took a deep breath. ‘That’s right. She’s called the Sea Wolf.’

‘What’s wrong with her?’

‘She was damaged in a storm. Her sail and rudder need mending.’

Eyvind listened attentively. ‘Is she fast?’

‘Very. A warship needs to be.’

‘Have you been in lots of battles?’

‘Quite a few.’

‘Were you scared?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘Did you kill people?’

‘Aye, when they tried to kill me.’

Eyvind nodded slowly. Then he looked past Wulfgar and smiled. His companion turned and, with pleasurable surprise, saw Lady Anwyn standing there.

‘I’ve brought you more ale,’ she said, ‘and a platter of bread and meat. You must be hungry by now.’

As soon as he saw the food Wulfgar realised he was. His men must be feeling the same. ‘Thank you. It is most welcome.’

She set the platter and jug down on a bench and then held out a hand to Eyvind. ‘Come.’

He tucked his hand in hers and then looked back at his erstwhile companion. ‘Can I come and see your ship?’

‘If you wish,’ he replied. ‘But first you had better ask your mother.’

Eyvind looked up her. ‘May I? Please?’

Anwyn hesitated. These men were strangers and, though they had shown no ill intent, she did not know how far they were to be trusted.

Her anxiety did not pass unnoticed. Wulfgar met and held her gaze. ‘Perhaps you would like to come too, my lady?’ The blue gaze held a distinct gleam. ‘With as many of your escort as you wish to bring.’

Rosy warmth bloomed in her cheeks. ‘I don’t know.’

‘What don’t you know?’ he asked.

‘We’ve barely met and, well, I …’

‘You suspect I might hold the boy to ransom, or carry you off, perhaps?’ He surveyed her keenly and the gleam intensified. ‘Now that I come to think of it, the notion is most pleasing.’

‘Pleasing? To whom?’

‘To me, certainly.’

‘So that you could sell me for a profit later?’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t sell you,’ he replied and was gratified to see her blush deepen. ‘However, the situation doesn’t arise since I am not in a position to do any such thing. You are therefore quite safe.’

Safe was not the word she would have chosen just then. Nor was she entirely sure how much of what he said had been spoken entirely in jest. The expression in his eyes was sufficient to bring back all her former self-consciousness.

Seeing her indecision, he smiled faintly. ‘Should I not receive the benefit of the doubt?’

Anwyn was silent, trying to order her scattered thoughts. He was an avowed mercenary, a pirate. She had known him less than a day. How far could she trust him? Eyvind looked up at her anxiously.

‘Please, Mother?’

‘I think you’re outvoted,’ said Wulfgar.

She threw up her hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘All right. I give in.’

Eyvind jumped up and down with glee. ‘Can we go now?’ ‘Why not?’ replied Wulfgar. ‘No time like the present.’

In spite of his suggestion that she might bring a large escort, Anwyn contented herself with Ina and half-a-dozen others. As the ship couldn’t go anywhere it seemed unlikely that Wulfgar would do anything untoward. They rode back to the bay, she having lent him a horse for the purpose. When they arrived it was to the sound of hammering and banging. Men swarmed all over the deck and the sand where the striped sail was still spread above the tide line. Eyvind took it all in wide-eyed.

Beside him, Anwyn quietly surveyed the vessel’s sleek lines. Built for speed and manoeuvrability, she would descend on an enemy like a hawk on its prey. Resistance would be swiftly overcome. Her crew were hunters, too, like the man who led them, the stranger beside her now. The knowledge sent a frisson down her spine.

‘A fine ship,’ she observed.

‘Would you care to take a closer look?’ he asked.

Eyvind regarded him eagerly. ‘Can I go on board?’

‘Of course.’

The child looked at his mother, waiting.

‘You may go.’ She looked at Ina. ‘Stay with him.’

The old warrior dismounted and lifted the boy down in his turn. Wulfgar summoned Hermund.

‘Go on ahead and show our guests around.’

‘Delighted, I’m sure.’ Hermund gestured towards the vessel and the three of them set off.

Wulfgar turned to Anwyn. ‘My lady?’

Seeing little other choice now, Anwyn dismounted. He followed suit and once again she was forcefully reminded how powerful he was, in every sense of the word. It did little for her equanimity. Neither did that unfathomable blue gaze.

‘Shall we?’ He glanced towards the ship.

She inclined her head and they set off together, he shortening his stride to match hers. Although he made no move to touch her, his closeness set her skin tingling. Yet what she felt was not fear. It was a strange mixture of anticipation and excitement.

‘How old is Eyvind?’ he asked.

‘Five now.’

‘It must have been hard for him to lose his father.’

‘He has Ina.’

It wasn’t what he expected to hear, and the words elicited a swift sideways glance. However, her attention was apparently on the three in front.

‘A woman alone is vulnerable, too,’ he said.

‘I have protection.’

‘A dozen men?’

‘There are plenty more.’

His eyes gleamed. ‘Ah, yes, I had forgotten—forty more—hiding in the dunes.’

It drew a rueful smile. ‘All right, I fibbed about that part, but there really are more than a dozen men.’

‘I’m glad to hear it, given the warlike nature of your neighbours.’

‘Grymar was presumptuous.’

‘You are charitable.’

‘I cannot afford to be at odds with his master.’

‘That would be Lord Ingvar?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is he so powerful, then?’

‘Powerful enough to make me want to keep the peace.’

She had spoken matter of factly, but he heard the seriousness beneath and understood it. However, she did not elaborate further.

Anwyn’s attention was claimed now by the ship. It was an arresting sight. She guessed the vessel to be roughly seventy feet long and perhaps fifteen or sixteen feet wide. Clinker built, her strakes were formed of solid oak planks fastened with tree nails and iron bolts and caulked with a cord of plaited animal hair. Anwyn’s gaze moved on, taking in the wooden planks that comprised the deck; the tall mast; the rowers’ benches and wooden storage lockers; the circular rowlocks in the main strake and the great oars—sixteen to a side. However, it was the magnificent prow that seized her imagination; a piece of oak intricately carved in the likeness of a snarling wolf.

‘She’s beautiful.’

‘She’s not the largest vessel afloat, but she’s swift enough and handles well.’

‘How long have you had her?’

‘Three years or so. We captured her as a prize of war.’

‘Oh.’ Looking at that carved prow again, Anwyn was forcefully reminded of the company in which she found herself. ‘You must have taken many prizes over the years.’

‘Enough,’ he replied.

The word was casually spoken, but it sent another tremor through her. In their way these men were every bit as dangerous as Ingvar’s war band. Though she said nothing, he sensed her unease.

‘What are you afraid of, Anwyn?’

The use of her name brought the warm blood to her cheeks, but she could detect nothing in his manner that suggested over-familiarity. On the contrary, it had sounded natural on his lips.

‘I … nothing.’

‘Something, I think.’ The tone was quiet, inviting confidence. Her confusion mounted.

‘I hardly know myself. Perhaps it is because I have never been so close to a warship before.’

‘Then let us allay your fear.’ He ran lightly up the gangplank that had been erected to allow easier access from the sand. Then he turned back to face her. ‘Come.’

The word was both invitation and command. Anwyn took a deep breath and followed. Around them the smell of brine mingled with rope and wood and tar, and the air rang with the sound of male voices, punctuated at intervals by laughter.

Having reached the top of the gangplank, she checked a little, mentally negotiating the step down on to the rowing bench and thence to the deck. Wulfgar saw the hesitation.

‘Allow me.’

Strong hands closed round her waist. There followed a brief sensation of absolute weightlessness before she was set down beside him. Just for a moment she breathed the scent of wool from his tunic and beneath it the musky scent of the man. It was unexpectedly arousing, like the warmth of his hands through her clothing.

‘Welcome aboard the Sea Wolf,’ he said.

In the name of self-preservation she took a step away, but had forgotten the now angled deck and stumbled. A strong arm caught her by the waist and prevented her from falling.

‘Oh, I … er, thank you.’ Her heart was thumping so hard she was sure he must hear it.

If he was aware of any awkwardness, it was not apparent. ‘Take care. I would not have you break an ankle.’

‘Yes. No.’ Her face reddened. ‘I mean I will take care.’

Gently she disengaged herself from his hold and was relieved when he made no attempt to stop her. Rather he spoke about the ship, pointing out various aspects of her design as they went. Anwyn relaxed a little. In front of them she could hear Hermund patiently answering Eyvind’s questions. Wulfgar surveyed the pair for a moment.

‘The boy has an enquiring mind.’

‘Enough for half-a-dozen children.’ She smiled fondly at her son. ‘He has really come out of his shell.’

‘He was not always so forthcoming?’

‘No.’ She hesitated. ‘His father was overly strict with him. It made the child shy and fearful.’

He thought he detected anger beneath the quiet tone and was suddenly curious. ‘Some firmness is essential, but a child should not be afraid of its father.’

‘My late husband was not a patient man.’

‘I see.’

Anwyn had no wish to talk about Torstein. He was a part of her life she wished to forget. Accordingly she changed the subject.

‘Do you have sons, my lord?’

He should have been expecting that, but it caught him unawares. ‘No.’

‘A wife?’

‘No.’

He did not elaborate and something about those succinct replies forbade further inquiry. Perhaps the life of a mercenary was incompatible with domestic ties. Such men took their pleasure where they found it. She shivered a little. Had he ever taken a woman by force? Almost immediately she rejected the idea—a man like this would never have a problem getting women to share his bed. Her experience was limited, of course, but she guessed that most would not object. That thought led to others, unexpected and disquieting. Quickly she looked away lest he should read her face.

‘We have trespassed on your time too long, my lord. We should go.’

‘I think it is we who trespass,’ he replied. ‘All the same I cannot regret that we did.’

Anwyn smiled. ‘Nor does my son.’

‘And you, my lady?’

‘No, of course not.’

They reached the gangplank and he stepped up ahead of her, offering his hand once more. Strong fingers closed over hers. The touch sent a charge along her flesh. When they gained the beach once more she called to Ina and Eyvind. They rejoined her and the whole group walked back to the horses. Anwyn half-expected that Wulfgar would take his leave of them then and remain. However, it seemed that was not his intention.

‘I must find out how work is progressing on the yard,’ he said.

Anwyn nodded. ‘Of course. We have kept you away too long already.’

‘It was a pleasant interruption.’

‘I am sure that Eyvind will talk of nothing else for days.’

They remounted and rode slowly back to the homestead. The tension that Anwyn had felt earlier was missing now and she felt a little ashamed of her suspicions. You suspect … I might carry you off? The idea should have been abhorrent. Pirates took slaves to sell them on. I wouldn’t sell you. The implications of those words should have been abhorrent, too, but the thoughts they engendered were rather different. The realisation sent a flush of warmth through her entire being. Mentally giving herself a shake, she reflected that Lord Wulfgar had been amusing himself at her expense. Moreover, if he had intended harm he would have done it already. In spite of his avowed profession there was much about him that did not seem to fit the conventional image of a mercenary. It was something of a mystery, like the man himself.




Chapter Five







Her buoyant mood lasted until they reached the pale and she saw the horses waiting outside the hall. Recognising them, her heart sank.

‘Ingvar,’ she murmured.

She and her companions scarcely had time to dismount before half-a-dozen men emerged from the hall with Lord Ingvar at their head. For a moment he surveyed the little scene and then hurried forwards to meet her.

‘Lady Anwyn. I came as soon as I could.’

‘Is something wrong, my lord?’

It seemed to throw him for a moment, but he was quick to recover. ‘I refer to what happened yesterday. I can only apologise.’

‘Grymar has already done so.’

‘It is meet he should. He is fully aware of my displeasure.’

Anwyn had no doubt of that. ‘I knew he had exceeded his authority.’

‘It is deeply to be regretted.’ Ingvar paused. ‘Of course he meant well. He knows how much care I have for your safety.’

‘I was never in danger, my lord.’

‘He did not know that at the time. When he saw a warship and her crew he feared the worst.’

‘His fears were quite unfounded. The ship was damaged and put in for repairs. When they are completed it will leave.’

His eyes narrowed a little. ‘You have given permission for this?’

‘That is correct.’

‘Was that wise, my lady?’

‘I should not have done it if I had thought otherwise.’

‘No, of course not.’ He paused. ‘All the same …’

Wulfgar spoke up. ‘Lady Anwyn has nothing to fear from me, or my men.’

Ingvar looked beyond Anwyn’s shoulder, apparently noticing him for the first time. There followed a tense and silent mutual appraisal.

‘Do I infer, then, that the ship is yours?’ asked Ingvar.

‘You do.’

Anwyn interjected quickly. ‘This is Lord Wulfgar. He and his men are my guests for a few days.’

‘Indeed?’

‘As you can see, my lord, there is not the least occasion for alarm,’ she continued.

‘I am relieved to hear it. You know the depth of my concern for you.’

‘Yes, I believe I do.’

Ingvar turned to her companion. ‘I hope you will forgive the unfortunate incident of yesterday, Lord Wulfgar.’

‘No harm was done, my lord.’

‘My men were overzealous,’ Ingvar continued, ‘but that is because they know the extent of my regard for the lady.’ He possessed himself of her hand and pressed it to his lips.

A muscle twitched in Wulfgar’s jaw. ‘Perhaps you should exert tighter control over your men.’

‘As I hope you will do over yours.’

‘My men are not in the habit of interfering where they have no business.’ Wulfgar turned to Anwyn. ‘Now I beg you will excuse me, my lady. There are matters requiring my attention.’

‘Ah, yes,’ said Ingvar. ‘I’m sure you want to be on your way as soon as possible.’

‘We’ll leave when we’re ready, my lord.’

‘Be sure to let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you achieve that state.’

Wulfgar met his gaze and held it. ‘When I need your help I’ll certainly ask for it.’ With that he bowed to Anwyn and walked away.

For a moment or two Ingvar watched him go. ‘I shall take my leave, too, my lady. I would not wish to impose on your time.’ He summoned his escort and remounted his horse. Having done so, he reined in beside her. ‘When I return, I shall expect to find Lord Wulfgar gone.’

The subject of their conversation had reached the carpenter’s shop as Wulfgar rejoined the other three.

‘Everything all right, my lord?’ asked Thrand.

Wulfgar nodded. ‘Well enough.’

‘Are we right in thinking that was Lord Ingvar?’

‘You are.’

‘What did he want?’

‘To speed us on our way.’

The three men regarded him incredulously for a moment, then Asulf snorted.

‘I’d like to see him try.’

‘Maybe he will,’ said Thrand.

‘There’s always hope, eh?’

It elicited a laugh from the rest. Then they turned their attention back to the task in hand. As he worked, Wulfgar let his mind return to that recent encounter. He had learned early to read men and Ingvar presented no difficulty, nor did his ambitions with regard to Anwyn. A woman alone was exposed, especially one who was wealthy and beautiful. It was none of his business, of course. In a day or two he and his men would be on their way. All the same, he had no intention of being hurried towards departure, by Ingvar or anyone else.

Anwyn paced the floor of the bower, her face pale with anger as she recounted to Jodis the details of Lord Ingvar’s visit.

‘Insufferable man! Who does he think he is?’

‘He grows more confident, my lady.’

‘He has no right to be confident of me. Drakensburgh is mine now, and I will say who is welcome here and who is not.’

‘Perhaps it is as well our visitors do not stay long,’ said Jodis. ‘All the same, I fear their departure.’

Anwyn sighed and sank down on to a chair. ‘So do I.’

She did not want to think about what might happen when their restraining presence was gone. Lord Wulfgar’s face drifted into her mind. He, too, unsettled her, but the feelings his company gave rise to could not have been more different. She had known him only a day, but she knew she would never forget him. In that moment she envied him: how would it be to board a ship and sail away from Drakensburgh and never come back? How often she had dreamed of it in times past. Torstein would never so much as permit her to speak with a stranger, never mind go near a ship.

Once she had been naïve enough to think she might escape, to summon the courage to ask for a divorce. It was not uncommon and nor was it a difficult process to arrange. A woman might part from her husband and take her children with her, along with the goods and dowry she had brought to the marriage. That was the usual way of things. However, it hadn’t taken her long to realise that her husband would never agree to such a proceeding. The only other alternative would have been to run away but, even had it been practicable, Torstein would have hunted her to the ends of the earth and then exacted a dire retribution.

Perhaps he guessed her thought for escape had been well-nigh impossible. Her freedom was limited to the confines of the pale. On the rare occasions that she was permitted to travel beyond, it was always in his presence and with an armed escort. Though they looked their fill, his men did not address her unless it was absolutely necessary and then only in the briefest and most respectful of terms. It was more than their lives were worth to do other. For the rest, human contact was limited to the women servants. She was, effectively, a prisoner. Anwyn sighed. In many ways she still was. Had it not been for Ina, life would have been much more difficult.

Their friendship had been formed in her first winter at Drakensburgh when he had fallen ill with the ague. By dint of careful nursing and the right medicine he had recovered well. It was a kindness he had not forgotten. In the days immediately following Torstein’s death he had been an invaluable aide in helping to establish her authority among the men. Ina had made it quite clear that she had his full support and their respect for him compelled them to listen. Whatever doubts they might have entertained, they did not voice them aloud. However, she was in a precarious position and she knew it. Common sense dictated that the sensible course was to remarry, but to wed a man like Ingvar would be to leap from the cooking pot into the fire.

Revisiting that embarrassing encounter just now, she wondered what Lord Wulfgar had thought. It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. Ingvar’s possessive anger had been thinly veiled. That in turn roused her own, as though she were somehow wrong-footed. Having reached peaceful agreement with the visiting force, it was infuriating to have her decision questioned like that, and by one who had no right to pronounce on the matter. Now she felt a need to put things straight again. Leaving Eyvind with Jodis, she left the bower and made for the workshop. She had no idea of what she was going to say when she got there, only knew that some form of words were necessary.

The sound of sawing and hammering drowned out her footsteps and for a little while he was unaware of her presence but, on turning to retrieve an adze, looked up and saw her there. His men exchanged knowing glances. Wulfgar paused, his face impassive. Had it been any other woman he might also have wondered at her motive for seeking him out again and, had the case stood as it so often had in the past, he would have followed up the invitation. What red-blooded man would not? However, she was as unlike those others as strong mead was to water. There was nothing remotely flirtatious in her manner; she made no attempt to attract or beguile. Moreover, she seemed to have no idea how successful a stratagem that was, unless of course she played a deeper game. Either way it was intriguing. Leaving his companions, he crossed the workshop to meet her. ‘My lady?’

‘I must speak with you, my lord.’ She hesitated. ‘Privately.’ He inclined his head in acquiescence. ‘As you wish.’ When they had walked sufficiently far to be out of earshot she turned to face him. He surveyed her speculatively, waiting, his curiosity thoroughly roused.

Anwyn drew a deep breath. ‘I wanted to apologise for what happened earlier.’

‘Why?’ he asked. ‘It wasn’t your fault.’ ‘Ingvar should not have spoken as he did.’ ‘Seemingly he misread the situation.’

‘I believe he did.’

Wulfgar eyed her coolly. ‘There is an understanding between the two of you?’

‘No, nothing like that. At least not on my part.’

‘Certainly on his, I would say.’

‘That is as may be, but I have given him no reason for encouragement.’

Wulfgar raised an eyebrow. ‘Then he takes much upon himself.’

‘You saw what happened in the bay.’

‘Why do you tell me these things?’

‘In truth I don’t know, except that I didn’t want you to think …’

‘What?’ he pursued.

‘That Ingvar spoke with any tacit support from me.’

‘I am honoured by your confidence, my lady, but I don’t quite see how all this concerns me.’

A rosy flush crept into her cheeks. ‘Forgive me, I did not mean to involve you in my affairs. I merely wished to … to explain.’

He regarded her steadily for a moment. ‘You know, of course, that a man like Ingvar will not give up easily?’

‘Yes, I know.’

‘A widow’s life must be lonely. He is strong and could protect you. Perhaps you should consider his offer.’

‘Lonely or not, I will never give Ingvar a husband’s authority over me.’

The words, spoken with quiet vehemence, elicited a quizzical look. ‘Do you object so strongly to a husband’s authority, then?’

‘I would object to any authority that is based on tyranny. Ingvar is of that kind, and I will never put myself or my son in his power. Nor will I have the people here subjected to the tender mercies of Grymar and his men.’

‘I can understand why you might not wish to. However, such men tend to take what they want.’

‘He will not take Drakensburgh. I have already given him my reply and I stand by it.’

Wulfgar met her eye and held it. ‘When it comes to the crunch, words have no power. Only swords and superior numbers will stop men like Ingvar.’

Anwyn pondered over that conversation later and privately acknowledged the truth of it. That led to other, more worrying thoughts. After her husband’s death some of the men had chosen to move on. Their departure left roughly thirty; not enough to stop Ingvar if he decided on the use of strength to achieve his aim. It seemed she was not alone in the thought.

‘If only Drakensburgh had a larger force of men under arms,’ said Jodis later when the two of them were alone in the women’s bower.

‘It would make us independent of Grymar and men like him,’ replied Anwyn.

The maid laid aside the distaff on which she had been winding wool. Although her expression was hesitant, it was clear she had something to impart.

‘What is it, Jodis?’

‘Forgive me, my lady, but it seems to me that you have the means to do that now.’

Anwyn stared at her. Then understanding dawned. ‘You refer to Lord Wulfgar and his men.’

‘Aye, my lady. With their numbers added to ours …’

‘We would be safe?’

‘Would we not?’

‘Perhaps. There’s just one difficulty attaching to all this.’

‘What is that, my lady?’

‘They would never agree to stay.’

‘They might … if they were paid enough.’

Anwyn shook her head. ‘It’s a crazy idea.’

‘Maybe so, but it’s also a perfect solution to the problem.’ Jodis paused. ‘Lord Ingvar would be out of your life for good.’

‘If only it were so simple.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘He would not give up so easily,’ replied Anwyn.

‘He might have no choice if the odds were too great.’

‘It might take a long time to convince him of that. Meanwhile, the services of seasoned warriors do not come cheaply.’

‘No, but Earl Torstein was rich.’

For a moment Anwyn said nothing, turning over the possibilities in her mind. What her companion said was true; her late husband had gold, though she had never enquired exactly how much. In marrying her he took a wealthy bride, for her dowry had been considerable. To the best of her knowledge the greater part yet remained. It should be more than enough on its own.

‘The money could likely be found,’ she said, ‘but hiring such men brings its own risk.’

‘How do you mean, my lady?’

‘We do not know if Lord Wulfgar is to be trusted.’

‘Has he done anything to make you think he cannot?’

‘No, but it is not in his interest to cause trouble here. Drakensburgh is a means to an end for him.’

‘So it could be again, but this time for gold—a business arrangement.’

‘A business arrangement that would give him great power.’

The maid regarded her sympathetically. ‘I understand why you hesitate, my lady, but all men cannot be judged by Earl Torstein’s standards, or Lord Ingvar’s, either.’

‘It may be so. I wouldn’t know.’ Anwyn sighed. ‘However, what’s past cannot be amended. I am free of the brute my father chained me to, and I will not exchange him for another.’

Jodis looked hurt. ‘My lady, if I thought Lord Wulfgar such another I would never have suggested this idea.’

‘I am sure you meant well. It matters not in any case; he’d never agree to such a scheme. He’s an adventurer, a man who values his freedom. He’d never saddle himself with this.’

‘No, perhaps not.’ Jodis sighed and retrieved the distaff, carefully winding on more wool. ‘It was just an idea.’

They lapsed into silence after this but, although she tried to dismiss it, Anwyn found that the idea persisted. What if she were to hire the services of the mercenary force? How long would they be prepared to remain? More to the point, how long would she be able to pay them? Long enough for Ingvar to give up hope and find another rich wife instead? Or at least to give up hope of Drakensburgh? That would be a desperate gamble. Torstein had been wealthy, but the gold was not inexhaustible. The Sea Wolf’s crew would indeed command large sums for their services.

And then there was Lord Wulfgar. He disturbed her more than she cared to admit, though she could not have said precisely why. In him were depths she could not sound. The man was a mass of contradictions. Something about him suggested danger, but not in any familiar sense of the word. His manner was direct and assured but, despite the predatory nickname, it was not that of an obvious aggressor. At the same time she knew instinctively that it would be a serious error to cross him. Only a fool would do that, and then only once. If he agreed to help her, she certainly wouldn’t make that mistake. She had no wish to earn his enmity. Besides, if she hired his services he would take orders from her. She smiled in self-mockery. It was ridiculous to let her mind range so far ahead. Only a fool would imagine that such a man would involve himself in the affairs of a woman. And only a coward would avoid sounding him out.




Chapter Six







He heard her out in silence, his face impassive. She had not known what to expect for he was skilled at hiding his thoughts; but at least she was spared any appearance of scorn. Somehow her voice remained level as she outlined the proposal, giving no indication of the thumping heart within her breast. No indication either of how keenly this invited proximity disturbed her equilibrium. Nothing in his manner suggested that this interview was having the least effect on him; he seemed to take it in his stride, like everything else he did.

They were standing in the hall, ordinarily a place she avoided whenever possible for its old associations with Torstein. Yet somehow the presence of this stranger drove the shadows back; he dominated the space and made it his own. While he was there she felt no desire to leave. Besides, as the heart of Drakensburgh, the hall seemed a fit setting for this conversation. She had ordered that the fire be remade, and the warm light did much to lift the gloom from the atmosphere. All the same, it could not dispel her inner trepidation. Would he even consider this scheme?

When at length she finished speaking he said nothing for a moment, only continued to regard her steadily. Her heart sank. He was going to refuse and now sought a means of letting her down gently.

‘Such a decision is not mine to make alone,’ he said. ‘I would need to put the idea to my men.’

As swiftly as it had sunk her heart leapt. He was not turning this down out of hand. The sudden expression of hope in her eyes had not gone unnoticed.

‘I told you that we were on our way to join Rollo before the storm delayed us.’

‘Yes.’

‘Such an alliance promises to be lucrative.’

‘I realise that.’

‘Then you will also realise that my crew would need to be sure the reward was sufficient to justify this change of plan,’ he continued. ‘That would be expensive.’

‘I know, but I am not without the means to pay for the services that Drakensburgh needs.’

‘They won’t consider it for less than ten gold pieces per man.’

Anwyn blinked. It was going to come to an eye-watering total, but worth the cost if it achieved her aim.

‘Very well.’

He nodded slowly. ‘You also need to understand what it means to start something like this. Ingvar won’t bow out gracefully. Things are likely to get unpleasant.’

‘I understand that, too.’

‘Do you?’ The blue gaze locked with hers. ‘I wonder.’

‘I know what Ingvar is.’

‘Good, because I can assure you that all pretence of neighbourliness is going to vanish as though it had never been.’

‘I have no wish to play the role of aggressor. What I want is a trained force that will be strong enough to act as a deterrent against aggression.’

‘A comfortable ideal,’ he replied.

‘You think it won’t work.’

‘I didn’t say that, but there’s a real risk that such a force would be tested at least once before the enemy understood its strength and backed off.’

‘Bloodshed must be a last resort.’

‘Of course. Even so, the affair will likely be protracted.’

‘That is a chance I am prepared to take.’

‘But I am not.’

Her heart sank again. ‘Not?’

‘The extent of my commitment here would be to train up a force sufficient to the task of protecting Drakensburgh. It might extend to leaving a few of my men here to oversee things, if they were willing to stay.’

‘They would be well paid.’

‘They would need to be.’ He paused. ‘Then there is the matter of your late husband’s men.’

‘What about them?’

‘If I stay, they will take their orders from me.’

For a moment Anwyn was silent. ‘They may resent that.’

‘Nevertheless, that’s how it will be. Without a force united under one commander there is no hope of prevailing against the likes of Ingvar and his henchman.’ He paused. ‘This point is not negotiable.’

Her brow wrinkled a little. To consent to this condition would effectively put Drakensburgh in his power. However, she needed his help and to get it she would have to trust him. ‘If I agree to this, I want to be informed of your plans before you carry them out.’

‘You have that right.’

‘Very well, then—it is agreed. You will command both forces.’ She regarded him steadily. ‘Ina is greatly respected among the men here. If you would win them over, first begin with him.’

‘I shall heed your advice, my lady.’ The sober tone was at distinct variance with the glint in his eye and she wondered now if he were gently mocking her. ‘Does it irk you that a woman should offer advice?’ ‘By no means,’ he replied, ‘when the advice is good.’ The blue gaze was now closely focused on her face. Her heart thumped harder. Forcing herself to an outward expression of calm, she returned the look, hoping he could not read her confused thoughts just then. He already had too dangerous an advantage.

‘Will you speak to your men, then, my lord?’ ‘I’ll speak to them, but I cannot promise that they’ll agree.’ ‘But you are their chief, are you not?’ ‘Aye, but decisions like this are reached by consensus.’ Privately she owned to surprise. Most commanders did not consult in that way. It gave another insight into his mind and confirmed the thought that he was unlike anyone she had ever met. Her experience in these matters was not great, but she knew that men remained loyal to leaders they respected, and such respect had to be earned. He had not won his reputation for nothing. Once again she had the sense of hidden danger, but it remained undefined.

‘I will speak to them later,’ he continued. ‘When I know their mind I will tell you.’

He left her then and for some time she remained where she was, deep in thought. Were her instincts correct? Could she trust him? Or was she making an error that would cost her dear in every sense of the word?

Wulfgar waited until after the evening meal before broaching the subject with his crew. They had built a fire of driftwood to keep off the evening chill, sitting around it and swapping tales over a cup of ale. They listened attentively while he outlined Anwyn’s proposal, though many faces registered surprise. Others registered more knowing looks.

‘Well, I can see your reasoning, my lord,’ said a wag from the crowd. ‘The lady is fair.’

‘Fair game?’ asked another.

That drew guffaws of laughter. Wulfgar smiled wryly. ‘The lady is fair,’ he agreed, ‘and game enough as we have seen, though no game for you, Dag.’

More laughter followed this.

Dag looked mournful. ‘The story of my life.’

‘Got designs on her yourself, my lord?’ asked Thrand.

‘It would do me no good if I had,’ said Wulfgar. ‘The lady is proof against my charms.’

Several ribald comments followed this, chiefly concerning the nature of his charms, but he bore it good-humouredly. When they saw he was proof against their baiting they left off.

‘What about Rollo?’ asked Beorn.

‘We can still join him when the repairs are complete, if you so decide,’ replied Wulfgar, ‘or we can meet him later.’

‘He may not take kindly to the delay, my lord.’

‘Rollo’s emotions don’t enter into it. Our alliance with him was discussed because it would be to our mutual advantage. The day it isn’t, the agreement ceases to exist. In the meantime, if we choose to earn ourselves some extra gold, it’s none of his affair.’

Murmurs of agreement greeted this.

‘How much gold exactly?’ asked Beorn.

‘Ten pieces for each man, plus food and board, of course.’

They digested this in thoughtful silence. Then Hermund spoke up.

‘Why not? One more job makes no odds. Rollo will still be there afterwards, won’t he?’

‘That’s right,’ said Thrand. ‘Besides, this shouldn’t be too hard.’

Hermund met his eye. ‘Don’t underestimate the enemy. Ingvar’s force is not small, as we’ve seen.’

‘Maybe not, but we’re more than a match for them. Besides, I’m looking forward to meeting Grymar Big Mouth again. Then we can talk about trespassing.’

His companions muttered agreement. Wulfgar surveyed them keenly.

‘All right, let’s come to an accord. All those in favour of remaining here a while, raise your hands …’

It was a unanimous vote in favour of remaining. He wasn’t surprised. As a business decision it made sense. Such a sum was more than most men would see in a lifetime. All the same, he felt a certain ambivalence about it, which had nothing to do with the nature of the task or with the reward they would receive. It was concerned with his own motives for agreeing to put the scheme to his men in the first place. This was a private matter and therefore none of his affair. So why had he allowed himself to be drawn in?

Recalling the recent jibes from his men, he began to wonder. Surely it wasn’t just on account of a beautiful woman, though Anwyn was certainly that. In truth, she was a lot more than that; she was the kind of woman who was capable of making a man forget everything else. When he’d been with her earlier he had schooled his face for fear she should glimpse the thoughts behind. He knew that she was lonely. It was an emotion he recognised, and indeed she had admitted as much. Might she not be willing to take comfort where it was offered, as he had on other occasions, and without any fear of suffering a husband’s tyranny? If he’d seen any sign of mutual interest … However, she had given no such sign. Neither would she. Theirs was purely a business arrangement. He smiled wryly. She was probably right; anything else would lead only to the kind of complications that neither of them needed.

The following day he and a dozen men returned to Drakensburgh. Telling them to wait outside, Wulfgar went to the hall and sent a servant to find Anwyn. As the woman hurried off, he looked about him. Though the hall was unchanged in essentials the fire had been lit again and, from the sweeter smell, he thought that new straw had been spread upon the floor. It was a considerable improvement. He let his gaze roam past the fire to the dais and the carved chair that surmounted it. Recalling Asulf’s words, Wulfgar smiled to himself. It might not be a throne, but it was a statement of power. What manner of man had its former owner been? Anwyn had said little about her late husband, and those details he had gleaned from their conversations gave him to think that the relationship had not been happy. Perhaps that accounted for her reticence.

The sound of light footsteps carried on the quiet air, and he turned to see the subject of his thoughts. At once everything else went out of his head. Watching her now, he took in the details. The colour of her gown reminded him of forest leaves in summer, a shade that became her exceeding well. Unbidden his imagination removed it to dwell on the shapely form beneath. The result was a surge of warmth in the region of his loins. He drew a deep breath and forced his thoughts into less dangerous channels.

When the courtesies had been observed he came straight to the point. Anwyn listened in a silence that was concerned with surprise and relief and trepidation. Surprise and relief that his men had agreed to stay, but trepidation on account of what she was doing. Something of this showed in her face.

‘It’s not too late to change your mind,’ he said.

‘I do not intend to change my mind.’

‘Be very sure, Anwyn, because once this begins there will be no going back.’

‘I know.’

‘Then we have an agreement.’

Her heart thumped, but she met his eye unflinchingly. ‘Yes.’

‘Very well.’

‘What happens now?’

‘What happens now is that my men and I move into Drakensburgh.’ He smiled faintly. ‘However, first I shall heed your advice and speak to Ina.’

‘I’ll have someone fetch him.’ She would have turned aside, but his hand closed round her arm, preventing it.

‘Presently. First there is something we must discuss.’

Anwyn remained quite still, trying to ignore his physical proximity and the warmth of his hand through her sleeve. ‘My lord?’

‘It may be that we shall not agree on every point in the days to come.’ He continued, ‘but I will keep my undertaking to tell you what is on my mind. In return I want yours that any disagreements will be discussed in private.’

‘A united front?’

‘Just so.’

She nodded. ‘As you will.’

‘Good.’

She would have disengaged herself then, but he retained his hold. ‘One more thing: I shall expect my men to be well lodged and fed, but while we are here I shall answer for their conduct.’

‘The women of Drakensburgh are safe, then.’

The blue eyes glinted. ‘If they wish to be.’

The tone was ambiguous; the implication wasn’t. Pink colour deepened in her cheeks, a circumstance that did nothing to diminish his admiration or, at that moment, his enjoyment.

‘I’m sure they’ll be relieved to know,’ she replied. ‘In the meantime, perhaps you’d like to speak with Ina.’

This time he made no attempt to prevent her going, though in truth he would have liked to. Instead he stood looking on as she crossed the room to the far doorway to summon one of the servants. There followed a few murmured words that he did not catch and then the sound of departing footsteps.

Anwyn took a deep breath, willing herself to composure again. It wasn’t so easy when she could still feel the pressure of his hand on her arm; it hadn’t hurt, but its strength was alarming. Like his sheer physical presence. Safe from him? Perhaps—but not safe from her own thoughts. He unsettled her too easily. However, that was probably true of most of the women he met. That thought rallied her at once; this was a business arrangement, nothing more. It would be the height of folly to think anything else.

Fortunately for her peace of mind Ina appeared a few moments later. He threw a quizzical look at Wulfgar and then turned his attention to Anwyn.

‘You wished to speak with me, my lady.’

‘Yes. There are matters of which you must be apprised …’

As she outlined the scheme Ina listened intently, his face impassive. Even his eyes revealed nothing of the thoughts in his mind. However, knowing him well enough by now, she immediately sensed reservation there.

‘I need your help,’ she said in conclusion. ‘The men will listen to you.’

‘They listen because you are Lady of Drakensburgh and they owe allegiance to you. To Lord Wulfgar they owe none.’

Wulfgar nodded. ‘What you say is true. However, if we are to prevail against Ingvar, I must have their allegiance.’

‘It may not be easy to gain.’

‘Perhaps not, but I mean to have it all the same.’

His gaze met and held Ina’s. Then the older man nodded slowly. ‘What do you intend to do?’

‘Speak to them. Offer them a choice.’

‘Serve you or leave?’

‘Something like that.’

‘They may defect to Ingvar.’

‘It’s a risk I’ll have to take,’ Wulfgar conceded.

Anwyn looked thoughtful. ‘There’s no love lost between my late husband’s men and those whom Grymar leads.’

‘It’s what I’m counting on,’ he replied.

‘When do you mean to speak with them?’

‘The sooner the better. I need to know exactly where I stand with regard to numbers.’

While Ina departed to muster the Drakensburgh force, Wulfgar summoned his own men into the hall. He had quite deliberately kept their number small, not wishing to make a difficult situation worse. Then he turned to Anwyn and held out a hand.

‘Come.’

Rather tentatively she placed her fingers in his, felt them close on her hand. The touch was warm and strong, oddly reassuring. He led her to the dais on which stood the great carved chair. Anwyn’s eyes widened a little.

‘You want me to sit there?’

‘Aye. These men need to understand who wields authority at Drakensburgh.’

It wasn’t at all what she had been expecting, although she could see the point. However, the thought of actually taking Torstein’s seat was somewhat daunting. No one had ever sat there save he. No one would have dared. She drew a deep breath; Torstein was dead and could make no objection. Somewhat gingerly she sat down. The great chair seemed even bigger now. Possibly Wulfgar guessed at some of her thoughts for he squeezed her fingers gently.

‘Have no fear. It will all be well.’

Then he released his hold and stepped back, standing a few feet off to her left, his men ranged behind. They had no sooner taken their places than Ina returned. His steady gaze took in the scene at once.

‘The men are on their way,’ he said.

‘Good.’ Wulfgar gestured to the place at Anwyn’s right hand. A ghost of a smile flickered on Ina’s lips and then was gone, but he took up his position without question.

As the Drakensburgh retainers began to file in, the buzz of conversation died and each man there turned his gaze to the waiting group. The first few halted at a respectful distance from the dais, their expressions revealing mingled surprise and curiosity. Surveying them from her vantage point, Anwyn understood then exactly what Wulfgar intended. At a stroke he had created an instant and powerful visual image that was all about authority: her authority, underpinned by Ina and himself. A few in the assembled crowd began to exchange glances and murmurs. Then Ina stepped forwards.

‘Silence!’ The command and the fierce accompanying glare killed off the murmuring at once. ‘Lady Anwyn would speak with you.’

All eyes turned her way. Sweat started on the palms of her hands. In all the ten months since Torstein’s death she had never addressed these men en masse, relying on Ina to convey her instructions. Now in truth she was going to have to adopt the mantle bequeathed her and she could not afford to show fear. Deciding that directness was probably the best course, she came straight to the point.

‘Recent hostile actions by Lord Ingvar’s war band have suggested a shift in the relationship subsisting between him and my late husband. It amounts to unwarranted interference in Drakensburgh’s affairs. This I will not permit.’ She paused, letting her gaze sweep round the assembled crowd, meeting their eyes. No one spoke. Nervousness diminished. She was in charge here and they would hear her. She lifted her chin and resumed, her voice firm and clear. ‘His lordship has also made known his wish to unite his estate with this one …’ that caused some sideways glances and drew faint, knowing smiles ‘… a wish he intends to fulfil by any means in his power.’ The smiles faded. ‘This also I will not permit.’ They were regarding her intently now. ‘However, Lord Ingvar’s war band is strong and, at present, Drakensburgh’s forces, though valiant, are too small to counter them should the need arise. To rectify that situation I have commissioned the services of Lord Wulfgar and his men.’ Again a murmur of voices broke out, this time in surprise. ‘There is more.’ She waited for quiet and then went on. ‘To have any hope of defeating Ingvar’s forces, there can only be one military commander. That will be Lord Wulfgar.’ The murmuring grew louder now and she intercepted a few angry looks among the expressions of surprise. ‘Ina will be his second-in-command.’

A man stepped forwards, big, burly, swarthy skinned. She recognised Thorkil for he had ever been one of her husband’s most loyal adherents. ‘Why should we take orders from Lord Wulfgar? We have sworn no oath of fealty to him.’

A chorus of agreement greeted this. Anwyn let it die down. ‘No, but you do owe fealty to me.’ She paused. ‘It is my will that he be invested with the authority to command the combined force.’

‘Only Ina has that right,’ replied Thorkil.

Anwyn fixed him with a cool and level stare. ‘It is I who have the right to decide what happens at Drakensburgh—no one else.’

Thorkil’s bushy eyebrows knit together, but before he could say more Ina spoke out. ‘Lady Anwyn speaks true—her word is law here.’ He paused. ‘Do not dispute it again.’

Thorkil glowered, but remained silent, exchanging eloquent looks with his immediate neighbours, Sigurd and Gorm. Anwyn drew in another deep breath and then turned to look at the man to her left.

‘Perhaps Lord Wulfgar can clarify the situation.’

He inclined his head in acquiescence and strolled forwards to the edge of the dais, looking round at the assembled group.

‘I can well understand why some might find this situation hard to accept. Change is not always welcome. Some men see it as a threat.’ He looked at Thorkil for a moment. ‘However, I am not the threat confronting Drakensburgh: Ingvar is. Only a united force has any hope of prevailing against him and, as any warrior knows, a force can have but one leader.’ He paused. ‘I will not compel any man to pledge allegiance to me. Those who have no wish to do so may leave, and with no ill feeling. However, those who choose to remain will acknowledge the authority that Lady Anwyn has seen fit to give me.’

He fell silent then, waiting. The silence stretched out, but no one moved or spoke. Wulfgar nodded.

‘Then I take it we are all agreed.’

Again none disputed his words. Anwyn let out the breath she had been holding, even as she acknowledged the skill of the performance she had just witnessed. It seemed to call for a gesture from her.

‘Tomorrow night our two forces shall feast together in friendship. Until then, go in peace.’

Immediately a loud buzz of conversation ensued, but she was relieved to note only a few creased brows among the crowd. Most of them seemed to have accepted the new state of affairs. However, they had a vested interest in doing so since it was a lot easier and more convenient than trying to find a new place elsewhere. Of course, Lord Wulfgar had known that and calculated accordingly. Glancing round, she met his eye and saw him nod in quiet approval.




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/joanna-fulford/the-viking-s-touch/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.