The Viking’s Touch(11)

 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.