The Viking's Defiant Bride(36)

Later that evening, when they retired to their chamber, he made love to her again. Again he was gentle and patient, wanting her to enjoy the experience as much as he did. He found her willing, even eager now, responding to his passion with warmth and he lost himself in her, forgetting the past and all the brutality of the world. Nothing existed for him then but her. And afterwards, when they lay in drowsy slumber, he dreamed of the future they would carve out together. He had heard it said that behind every successful man was a strong woman. He had not believed it until now. With Elgiva at his side he felt invincible, that anything was possible. No other woman had ever made him feel that way, think that way. He couldn’t even remember what those women looked like now, but it didn’t matter. He knew he had found the one he sought, a woman to cherish and to trust.



As Wulfrum continued to familiarise himself with the land and its people, he found increasing pride in this rich and fertile domain with its warm, dark soil and fields of growing crops. Under his hand, Ravenswood had begun to resemble its former self. Elgiva watched too, and knew her husband a capable ruler of men. The Norsemen might be warriors and of fearsome appearance, but they also worked hard, and gradually the Saxons began to view their presence, if not with gladness, at least with a grudging acceptance.

From time to time they received news from further afield. Halfdan had established his rule in York and his war bands had roamed far and wide through Northumbria. Much more of the kingdom was now within their hold. It was not welcome news to Saxon ears, but there was naught to be done about it. They heard that the southern kingdom of Wessex stood out against the Danes, and some secretly hoped that the resistance would spread. Others prayed it would not, being tired of slaughter and destruction. From time to time pockets of rebellion flared up across Northumbria, but these were dealt with ruthlessly. The Danes would not tolerate any such infraction and the perpetrators were hunted down and killed.

Elgiva shivered when she heard these tales, praying that as she had heard nothing of Aylwin for a while he had abandoned his former plans and gone to safety. It seemed to her that she had seen enough bloodshed and killing to last a lifetime. War meant waste and destruction, a ravaged land that could not support the people. Peace meant a future for all. It came at a price, but there was nothing to be done about that, either. It was futile to try to live in the past. They must make the best of now. Accordingly she set her shoulder to the wheel and, when not accompanying Wulfrum, turned her skilled attention to the household affairs.

Wulfrum observed more than he ever said, but he found no fault with her management of domestic affairs. Food was well prepared and appeared on the table to order; the serfs knew their tasks and obeyed her; the hall was well kept. It was a comfortable place and one that men, hungry and tired, looked forward to returning to. He noticed how his men would greet her now when they returned from work, sometimes with a jest, but always within the bounds of decorum. They knew that if one of them got a cut or a splinter she would tend it, and came to have a respect for her skill with herbs and potions. It occurred to Wulfrum that his marriage to Elgiva had been more than a shrewd move: it was a decision that pleased him more with every passing day. More than ever he looked forward each night to the time when he would be alone with her and she would share his bed. He knew other men envied him his good fortune. He saw them follow her with their eyes. Elgiva never returned such looks or showed she was aware of them, never once gave him cause to doubt her. How should she? In her was only goodness and sincerity. He was proud that she was his wife and he trusted her.



Towards the end of July the watchman announced the approach of a group of horsemen. It was a warm day and Elgiva was sitting with Osgifu outside her bower, mending one of Wulfrum’s shirts while Ulric played nearby. They heard the sentinel’s warning shout and then, soon after, the arrival of the horses. Leaving Ulric in Osgifu’s care, Elgiva went to see who the newcomers were. When she entered the hall, she saw a dozen men, all Danes, and all with the dust and sweat of travel upon them. They were already being received by Wulfrum. Elgiva, standing apart, listened as he welcomed them and, catching his eye, gave quiet instructions to the serfs to fetch ale and food. When she turned back to the guests, she realised that one of their number was watching her with interest. With a feeling of dismay she found herself looking straight at Sweyn. He smiled and bowed. Elgiva acknowledged him with the barest inclination of the head and then turned her attention back to the rest, for the man called Torvald was speaking to Wulfrum.

‘We carry messages from Lord Halfdan to his brothers, and also for you, my lord.’

Wulfrum nodded. ‘I thank you. But first wash off the dust of travel, and then sit and eat. You’ve had a long ride.’

The men were only too glad to obey and, having sluiced their faces and necks with cool water, disposed themselves around the table. As they ate they spoke of matters in York and elsewhere. Elgiva listened with close interest. It was as she had suspected. The Danes increased their hold on their new kingdom daily. They put down rebellion with ruthless efficiency and brought Northumbria under their yoke.

‘There are still pockets of resistance,’ Torvald continued, ‘and bands of rebels who hide out in the forest. We have reason to believe one of them may be Aylwin.’

Elgiva froze at the mention of that name, but the men paid no heed.

‘Since the forest is hard by, my lord, it might be as well to double your guard around the place until such time as the troublemakers can be flushed out.’

‘I shall do so, Torvald, and I thank you for the warning.’

‘It is but a matter of time before they are caught and destroyed.’

‘I think so too. I will have my men search the area immediately. If any rebels are in hiding hereabouts, they will be found.’ Wulfrum exchanged glances with Olaf Ironfist and missed his wife’s expression. ‘Take some men out tomorrow and see what you can discover.’

‘I will, my lord. And if we find any renegades?’

‘Then you will either kill or capture them.’

Ironfist nodded and looked at Ida, who grinned in obvious anticipation.

‘What news more?’ demanded Wulfrum.

‘Lord Halfdan holds a council in the autumn,’ said Torvald. ‘It is his will that all his earls should attend.’

Wulfrum regarded the speaker and nodded. ‘I will do so.’

Elgiva caught the look that passed between him and Olaf Ironfist, though the latter said nothing, only listened attentively to the conversation. She noted he also looked once at Sweyn, though it was but a fleeting glance and probably not significant. The man’s presence caused her deep uneasiness and she longed to see him ride on. Having thought never to see him again, it was a disagreeable surprise to find him here in the flesh.



She said as much to Osgifu a little later.

‘Disagreeable indeed,’ replied Osgifu. ‘Worse, he is alive and well. The gods have not heard my prayers on that score.’

‘Fortunately they ride on tomorrow.’

‘Good riddance.’ Then, ‘What news did the riders bring from York?’

She listened with close attention while Elgiva summarised what she had heard.

‘I must get a message to Aylwin, warn him.’

‘You cannot risk venturing out there.’

‘Not personally, but it should still be possible to get a message through.’

‘How?’

‘Through Leofwine. Can you let him know what is afoot and bid him find Brekka if he can? I know the rebels move their camp often.’ She paused. ‘It is the last thing I can do for Aylwin. Let us pray that he heeds the warning.’

‘Let us hope so. Let us hope also that Wulfrum never finds out that his plan has been betrayed.’

‘This is not done to betray Wulfrum, but to prevent more blood from being shed.’

‘He would not see it that way.’

‘I know it,’ replied Elgiva, ‘but I cannot just let Aylwin and the others be slaughtered.’

After Osgifu departed for the village, Elgiva paced the floor in an agony of suspense and inner turmoil. It seemed to her then that every turn of events mired her deeper in deception. She needed something to do to take her mind off it all and keep her away from their visitors. It was politic to keep her distance until the men should have gone. As always there was spinning to do, enough to last until the evening meal when she would have the safety of numbers about her.



She occupied herself thus until the late afternoon. Then, feeling the need of fresh air, Elgiva went out, heading away from the bower and the hall towards the paddock. The day was fine and warm and scented with flowers and cut grass. Glossy horses grazed beyond the fence, cropping the lush turf. However, being preoccupied, she devoted little attention to them. Had the message reached the rebel group? It was all she could do and little enough. Recalling their last meeting, Elgiva sighed. Aylwin’s words still stung. What made it worse was that much of what he had said had the ring of truth. She would not undo her marriage to Wulfrum, would not be Aylwin’s bride instead. He was a good and respected man, but she knew that she had never felt for him what she felt for Wulfrum. Aylwin’s look did not send a pleasurable shiver along her spine, nor did his touch burn. His kiss would never set her heart aflame. She could never return the feeling he had for her. She wondered why it should be that one man could inspire passion and another not, no matter how worthy. Wulfrum was her lord and there could be no other.