The Viking's Defiant Bride(15)

‘Damn him!’

The very thought of the man was enough to stir her anger again. He knew how to punish. Yet in her heart she knew this was but a small taste of his power. Had he chosen to, he could have flogged her until the flesh hung in ribbons from her back. She shivered. In truth, she had been surprised that he had not, surprised and mightily relieved too. He held all their lives in his grip now and they were his to do with as he pleased. Why had he stayed his hand? He could have made an example of her, of all of them. Perhaps he already had. Perhaps he had lied to her when he said he would not kill her companions, and Osgifu and Hilda were hanging from a tree even now along with Leofwine and Elfric. Perhaps her incarceration was but a prelude to something far worse. The uncertainty was what she hated most, as of course he knew she would.

‘Damn him!’ she said for perhaps the hundredth time.



Her imprisonment was running into its third day when the door opened to admit Osgifu. Elgiva leapt up, staring at her in disbelief. Then she was running across the intervening space and they were hugging each other fiercely.

‘Oh, Gifu. Are you all right? I’ve been imagining all kinds of terrible things. Did they hurt you?’

‘No. I am quite well.’

‘What of Hilda and the others?’

‘Well, too.’

‘And the children?’

‘Both fine.’

Elgiva closed her eyes and gave silent thanks to God. The relief was so intense she found herself shaking.

‘What of you, child? Has he hurt you?’

‘No. Things are as you see.’ She glanced with distaste around her prison. ‘But I am not hurt.’

‘Thank heaven. When you were taken away that night, we feared the worst. No one has set eyes on you since and rumours are rife.’

‘How did you get in here?’

‘The guards let me pass, on Lord Wulfrum’s orders.’

‘When did he release you?’

‘The very next day.’

‘What!’

‘It’s true. At dawn he and his men came for Leofwine and took him away. Hilda and I thought we’d never see him alive again. As for Elfric’s fears, you can imagine.’

Elgiva could, only too well. ‘What happened?’

‘A few hours later the Vikings returned. Leofwine had taken them to the cave, but when they arrived, all they found was Hunfirth’s body. It was cold. He must have died in the night. Brekka was gone.’

Elgiva digested the news.

‘Where will he go, do you think?’

‘South, probably, to try to reach Wessex or somewhere the Danes do not hold sway.’

‘I wish him God speed.’

‘And I.’

‘Will the Vikings try to find him?’

‘I don’t think so. From what Leofwine said, they showed no interest in pursuit. They brought Hunfirth’s body back for burial too.’

‘Wulfrum let Leofwine bury his brother?’

‘Yes. And he freed the rest of us. He sent me straight back to tending the remaining wounded from the battle.’ Osgifu shook her head. ‘I thought we were dead for sure that night we were caught returning from the forest. He is a strange one.’

‘Strange indeed,’ replied Elgiva, turning the story over in her mind. Wulfrum had shown mercy to an extent she could never have imagined.

‘We thought you were dead at first. Then we learned you were shut up in this room. I begged to be allowed to see you but he refused, until now.’

‘Oh, Gifu. I’ve been so afraid. I thought I would never see you again.’

Elgiva’s tears spilled over now and ran down her cheeks. Then Osgifu’s comforting arms were round her.

‘Don’t cry, child. You have been so brave. Your strength has given us all the will to go on.’

‘I was terrified, Gifu.’

‘No one would ever have known it.’

‘I thought he would kill us all.’

‘The Viking respects courage and you have shown that in good measure.’ Osgifu smiled. ‘I think it is why he has not exercised his power as he might have done. In truth, I expected a very different outcome to the events of the past few days. You must have made quite an impression.’

‘I’ve paid for it since.’ Elgiva dashed her tears away with the back of her hand. ‘He has let me sweat in here, not knowing anything. He knew it would be almost as bad as a flogging.’

‘The man is cunning.’

‘He’s a devious swine. I would give much to tell him so.’

Osgifu looked at her in surprise. ‘Have you not seen him then since he locked you up?’

‘No, only his guards. He means to teach me a lesson, you see.’

‘Surely he will free you soon.’

Elgiva sighed, wishing rather than believing it might be so. The knowledge that he had freed the others long since made her continued punishment all the more pointed. This was not about helping an injured man, it was about defiance. He did not need to beat her bloody to let her know his power. A more subtle demonstration had worked just as well. Elgiva gritted her teeth.

‘How I hate that man!’

‘He has made his point. He can’t keep you locked up much longer.’



However, it seemed Osgifu’s prediction was wide of the mark for that day passed and the next and still Wulfrum made no move to release her or even to speak with her. Elgiva could only feel thankful for his continued absence. Though it was most irksome to be confined, it was infinitely preferable to the plan originally proposed for her future. Perhaps he had changed his mind now. Indeed, it looked as if he had forgotten all about her. She prayed it might be so.



The hope was short-lived for the following day he did come to the women’s bower. Hearing the door open, Elgiva assumed it was Osgifu, but turned to see Wulfrum standing there. For several moments they faced each other in silence. He surveyed her critically. She was a little paler than usual but he put that down to her enforced stay within doors. Otherwise he could detect no ill effects from the experience. She was as beautiful as he remembered and, from the look in those glorious eyes, quite unrepentant. He was amused. Shutting Elgiva up might have restricted her freedom, but it had not cowed her spirit for her chin lifted in a manner that was becoming familiar to him. Would she plead with him now to set her free? He suspected not. Pleading was not something that came readily to her, at least not for herself, however eloquent she might be on behalf of others. If he knew anything about her, it was that she would cut out her own tongue before asking any favour of him. She was proud and she was brave and he was becoming hourly more reconciled to the thought of their wedding. Far from having changed his mind, she would have been unnerved to learn that recent events had but confirmed him in the decision. Unable to follow his thoughts, Elgiva grew restive under that keen scrutiny and it was she who broke the silence.

‘There was something you wished to speak of, lord?’

‘Indeed. I have had no chance before now, being occupied with other matters.’

‘Such as the burial of the slain?’

He heard the ironic tone, but let it go. ‘That was a part of it,’ he acknowledged. ‘However, ’tis done, and now other things take precedence.’

Elgiva threw him a cool quizzical look but ventured no comment and remained where she was, watching him cross the floor towards her. She had forgotten how tall he was, how powerful a presence.

‘It is of our marriage I speak,’ he said.

Some of the colour faded from her cheeks.

‘Never tell me you had forgotten, my lady. Or perhaps you were hoping I had?’

She bit her lip but said nothing, for it was a most accurate shot.

‘I regret to disappoint you, Elgiva. You and I wed on the morrow.’

The words hit her like a blow, but she recovered fast enough. ‘I will not.’

‘Your consent would be better. More dignified.’

‘Do you intend to use force, then?’

‘If I have to,’ he returned mildly.

Amber eyes glared into cool blue, Elgiva the while much tempted to hit him and remove some of that infuriating self-assurance. Then she reflected that it wouldn’t even dent the surface. His arrogance was as impenetrable as his armour.

‘Do you think I would stoop to wed a Viking thief? I would rather die.’

Wulfrum held his temper. ‘You are overproud, my lady, and pride goes before a fall.’

He drew closer. Elgiva took a step back and then could have kicked herself for it, seeing the mocking expression reassert itself. His gaze swept her from head to foot and he frowned.

‘I would see you in something more festive for our wedding.’

She had donned her plainest gown in token of mourning and the sober brown shade was unadorned save for the girdle that rode her waist. Evidently it found little favour with him. Bridling under that keen scrutiny, Elgiva wondered if he thought she would don her finery in his honour. If so, he was sorely mistaken. She would not make herself attractive for him. Then she became aware that Wulfrum was looking beyond her to the chest by the far wall. Without further ado he crossed the room and threw back the lid, revealing the garments within. Seething, she watched as he lifted them out one by one, surveying them critically before tossing each one aside on the bed. Blue, green and mauve followed in swift succession until he came to the gold gown with the embroidered neck and sleeves.