The Viking's Defiant Bride(13)

‘In truth, I don’t know.’

‘There must be a way.’

Elgiva was thinking hard. The plan had better be a good one. She had no desire to lead Wulfrum’s men to the fugitives or to be caught and dragged ignominiously before him to face another interrogation.

Osgifu broke into her thoughts. ‘A simple disguise might serve.’

‘A disguise? How? Surely the guards would never fall for it.’

‘They might, if it were done subtly. People generally see what they wish to see. The guards are no different in that respect, I think.’

‘What is in your mind?’

Osgifu explained. Elgiva listened and smiled. It was a simple idea but for that reason it might just work.

‘I will speak with Hilda,’ Osgifu went on. ‘We’ll need her help. In the meantime let us hope Wulfrum doesn’t decide to visit the women’s bower. That would be more than a bit inconvenient. He’s not a man to cross.’

‘What the earl doesn’t know won’t hurt him.’

‘True.’ Osgifu donned her old grey mantle and pulled up the hood. ‘Happily this weather suits our purpose.’

The spring had been cool and showery and it had been raining intermittently all day. It was a perfect reason to wear a hood and one drawn forwards over the face as now. Elgiva watched her leave and then set about gathering up those things they would most likely need.



A short time later Osgifu returned with Hilda also clad in a grey mantle with the hood drawn up. She doffed the outer garment and helped Elgiva to put it on.

‘God send you can help Hunfirth, my lady.’

‘Amen to that.’ Elgiva slipped the leather bag containing her things beneath her cloak. It was small enough to escape detection. Then she drew up her hood. Even a cursory glance would not mistake Hilda’s tawny locks for her own gold ones. Pulling the cloth forwards to hide her face, Elgiva nodded to her companions.

Osgifu turned to Hilda. ‘You must wait here till we return.’

‘I shall. The children will be safe enough meanwhile. I’ve left them with Acca.’

It was a happy choice. Acca might be getting on in years, but she was kind and a most trustworthy servant besides.

Elgiva smiled. ‘It is well.’

‘My lady, you must use this chance to get away.’ Hilda regarded her earnestly. ‘Get far away into the forest where the conquerors will never be able to find you.’

‘And leave you to their tender mercies in my place?’

‘It does not matter.’

‘It matters to me, Hilda. We have seen what cruelties they practise and I would not have anyone suffer at their hands again.’ Elgiva squeezed the girl’s arm. ‘I will give what help I can to Hunfirth and return as soon as may be. Do you stay here meanwhile?’

Hilda nodded. Then, with swift-beating heart, Elgiva followed Osgifu from the bower. The guard outside glanced their way, but made no move to stop them, having seen two identically dressed women go in before. They walked away, resisting the temptation to hurry, and made for the gate. It was open to allow the normal traffic in and out and, though the guards kept an eye on those who came and went, they saw nothing suspicious in two more servant women going about their business.

Only when they were past these first obstacles did Elgiva breathe more easily. However, they could not afford complacency, for the Vikings kept a presence in the village too. At the smithy Elfric joined them and from there they followed the path that led towards the woodland. The rain had slackened a little, but the chill was penetrating and for that reason most people had sought shelter. Elgiva took a covert look around but could see no sign of any Danes. Belike they were within doors too. Fortunately the smithy was on the edge of the village; from there it was but a short distance to the trees. As they walked they looked about the while to ascertain that they were not followed.

In spite of the potential danger Elgiva felt her heart lift to be in the open air again, to breathe the welcome scent of damp earth and leaf mould, to see on every bough the glad new leaf appearing, wreathing the branches in a mist of green. The forest held a promise of freedom. She knew its secret places, knew she could hide herself there with ease and, equally, knew she never would. Her word was given and she would not break it. Thus with unerring steps she made her way along the familiar paths towards her goal.



It was perhaps a matter of half a league to the ancient dolmens, three great monoliths topped by another, stained and weathered, greened with moss and lichen, and so old none could say how they came there. A little further on was a rocky outcrop in the trees, where lay the cave they sought.

As they neared the place they slowed and she heard Elfric whistle softly twice. At his signal a man emerged from the cave, a drawn sword in his hand. When he saw who it was, he lowered the weapon.

‘Elfric. God be thanked.’

Elgiva recognised the speaker, the man called Brekka who had been one of her brother’s retainers. He turned to her now and inclined his head respectfully.

‘My lady, you take a great risk in coming here, but I thank you and Osgifu too. Hunfirth is in a poor way. I have done what I can for him, but it is little enough.’

They followed him through the narrow entrance into the wider cave beyond. In the dim light they could see the injured man lying on the hard earth floor. Elgiva knelt beside her companion and they made a careful examination of their patient. She knew Hunfirth by sight, but her heart misgave her as she looked at the man’s pallor and heard his ragged shallow breathing. An examination of his wounds did nothing to restore her confidence. Apart from a deep sword thrust to his side, there was the arrow lodged in his shoulder and the signs were that the wound was already festering.

‘This arrow must come out or he has no chance,’ said Osgifu. ‘Even then the outcome is doubtful given how much blood he has already lost.’

‘He will die if you do not treat him,’ replied Brekka.

Osgifu nodded. ‘That is so.’ She took the leather bag from beneath her cloak and began to get out her things.



It took some time to perform the task, given the limitations of the place and the basic nature of the equipment they had been able to bring, but eventually it was done. The patient had lost consciousness long since. In her heart Elgiva doubted whether he would survive the night. She turned to Brekka.

‘If Hunfirth dies, you must not linger here.’

He shook his head. ‘If it comes to that, my lady, I shall seek the other Saxon fugitives and join with them.’

‘Enough blood has been spilt. I beg you to save yourself.’

‘If I do, it will only be to fight another day.’

Seeing it was useless to argue, she and Osgifu gathered their things and prepared to leave. Outside the air was colder and the grey sky darkening. Elgiva realised then how much time they had spent in the cave. It was imperative now to get back before they were missed. They said their farewells to Brekka and retraced their steps, coming at last to the edge of the trees. Elfric looked around to check that the coast was clear. He need not have worried: it had begun to rain again and the place seemed deserted. In a little while it would be dark.

They reached the smithy, expecting to see Leofwine waiting there. However, the lean-to was dark with no sign of the smith. Elgiva frowned, feeling suddenly uneasy. It was too quiet. Something of this had occurred to her companions too and she could sense their nervousness.

‘Go, my lady,’ said Elfric. ‘It is not safe to linger here.’

She was about to reply when a muted sound stopped the words, the sinister scrape of metal on stone. Before she could utter any warning, half-a-dozen dark shapes detached themselves from the shadows of the building and in moments the three of them were surrounded by armed men. Elgiva drew in a sharp breath as she recognised Ironfist. Taking a firm hold on her arm, he turned to his companions.

‘Take those two and chain them with the others.’

Elfric and Osgifu were hustled away. With beating heart Elgiva looked up at her captor, but the giant’s face was impassive as he drew her inexorably with him. Instead of following the rest, he peeled off at a tangent towards the women’s bower. When they reached it, he shoved open the door and pushed her inside. In the dim light she could see the tall dark-clad figure before the fire. On hearing them enter, the figure turned round. Elgiva’s mouth dried. Wulfrum!

‘Good evening, my lady. I have been looking forward to your return for some time. Perhaps you would care to tell me where you have been.’

For a moment they regarded each other in silence, but even in the firelight she could see the anger in his face. She paled, heart thumping hard against her ribs, but she was thinking fast. How had he found out? What unlucky chance had led him here? There was no way of knowing what information he had already extracted from Leofwine and Hilda, but some instinct warned her not to lie to him, that to do so would make matters worse. Behind her she was aware of Ironfist’s bulk blocking the door, cutting off all possibility of escape. She took a deep breath.

‘Osgifu and I went to help a wounded man.’

‘What man? Where?’

‘Leofwine’s brother, Hunfirth. He was wounded in the battle for Ravenswood and he took refuge in the forest.’

‘How many are with him?’