The Viking’s Touch(12)

 ‘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.

 ‘Well done. You were magnificent.’

 His praise caused a real sense of pleasure. ‘Thank you. You weren’t so bad yourself.’

 He smiled. ‘Between us, I think we convinced them, my lady—the majority, anyway.’

 ‘Yes, I believe we did.’ She grew serious for a moment. ‘But Thorkil will bear watching.’

 ‘Ah, the dissenter.’

 She nodded. ‘It’s my thought he may stir trouble if he can.’

 ‘I’ll keep an eye on him,’ said Ina.

 ‘Do that,’ she replied. ‘We cannot afford internal quarrels now.’

 Ina bowed then and left them. Anwyn rose from her seat, by no means sorry to vacate it, and glanced around. Wulfgar’s men were talking quietly among themselves, but their chief was looking at her. In that brief keen regard she surprised a look of warmth that she had not seen there before. It both gladdened and perturbed.

 ‘What will you do now?’ she asked.

 ‘Forge a united fighting force,’ he replied.

 ‘Quite a challenge.’

 ‘I’ve always enjoyed those—in whatever guise they might appear.’

 ‘I find it hard to believe that even you could enjoy a challenge that came in the guise of Grymar.’

 ‘He’s the exception that proves the rule.’ He grinned. ‘A truly ugly challenge.’

 Anwyn laughed. ‘A cruel but accurate description.’

 Wulfgar had not seen her laugh; it lit her face and made her eyes sparkle, enhancing beauty and rendering it stunning. Her lips might have been formed for a man’s kisses; almost invited them. Moreover, now that he was standing closer, he caught a hint of floral scent from the folds of her gown. It was light but sensual as well and unexpectedly arousing, like the soft curve between her neck and shoulder, a warm hollow just made for a man’s lips. If they’d been alone he might have put that theory to the test… He pulled imagination up short. They weren’t alone and he had no business thinking in those terms. His business was war, a mistress who suffered no rivals.

 ‘My lord?’ The green eyes met his, their expression puzzled now. ‘Is something wrong?’

 ‘Er, no. Forgive me, I was thinking about military matters.’

 ‘Of course. It is I who should apologise for detaining you.’ She smiled. ‘If you will excuse me, I have a feast to arrange.’

 With that she left him. Wulfgar let out a long breath. Then, having regained his customary composure, he turned and rejoined his men.





Chapter Seven

Jodis regarded her wide-eyed. ‘You’ve really done it, my lady?’

 ‘Yes. I can only pray that it was the right decision, though in truth I think I had no other choice.’

 ‘Lord Ingvar isn’t going to like it.’ The maid paused. ‘Lord Wulfgar’s very handsome, isn’t he?’

 ‘Yes, he is.’

 ‘A pity he were not Lord of Drakensburgh.’

 Anwyn stared at her. The maid reddened.

 ‘Beg pardon, my lady. I meant no offence, I’m sure. I was thinking aloud.’

 ‘A bad habit, Jodis.’

 In fact, the remark had not caused offence; rather it led Anwyn’s thoughts in an entirely different direction. If Wulfgar had been Lord of Drakensburgh… Just for a moment she indulged the thought. The result was a strange fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach. How would it be to share his bed? To surrender to his will? The notion did not engender the feeling of instant antipathy that it should have. What she felt was more like wistfulness. She drew a deep breath. Such thoughts were foolish and irresponsible. She had no wish to be a whore, and she had found out the hard way what it meant to be a wife; she would not give a man such power over her again.

 Anwyn turned her mind to the matter of the forthcoming feast. It was short notice, but Drakensburgh was well supplied and she was sure that something creditable could be achieved. Accordingly she spent the rest of the forenoon speaking to the servants. If all went according to plan, then it might bring both sides together in amity. Perhaps even Thorkil and his friends might come round after a few mugs of ale.





Wulfgar and Ina took it upon themselves to organise the seating at the feast, arranging matters in such a way that the company was mixed, giving both sides the chance to meet and talk. If they were going to work together, it was an important requirement. Anwyn had made no demur, letting them have complete freedom in this. Her contribution to conviviality was to ensure substantial amounts of food and drink. To this Wulfgar had contributed several casks of mead from the ship’s store. It seemed to be working, too, for the flow of conversation was more or less continuous, and punctuated at intervals by good-natured laughter. It pleased him to hear it. If things went as he hoped, then it would smooth the way for what was to come.

 A movement in the doorway caught his eye and he glanced in that direction. Then he was quite still, forgetting even to breathe, his gaze fixed on the woman who stood there. Nor was he alone in this; more than a few covert glances went that way and then lingered. Anwyn seemed not to notice. He saw her glance around the hall and then, apparently satisfied that all was well, she made her way towards him. He took a breath then and found his feet, rising to greet her.