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The Viking’s Touch(16)

By:Joanna Fulford






In this supposition he was quite correct. Anwyn had sedulously avoided his company where possible, taking care to busy herself with domestic matters during the day. There were also Eyvind’s needs to look after as well, so it wasn’t particularly difficult. Yet in spite of her best intentions she found herself looking forward to the evenings when she knew she would meet Wulfgar again. On the surface of it the conversation flowed smoothly: she would ask him what progress he had made with the men and he would tell her how he had spent his day. She listened attentively, asking questions at intervals, thoughtful and pertinent questions that revealed a sharp mind and excellent grasp of what he was trying to achieve.

 ‘You would have made an able commander,’ he said, as they lingered over the remains of the meal one evening.

 Anwyn shook her head. ‘An able commander needs to be able to acquit himself well in battle. I fear that my skills stop far short of that.’

 ‘It is not hard to learn the rudiments of sword play. What is much more difficult is to master fighting strategy.’

 ‘Is it?’

 ‘Beyond doubt, and yet you always know what I’m talking about.’ The tone was casual enough but it warmed her nevertheless.

 ‘I pay attention.’

 ‘I know.’ He leaned back in his chair, regarding her steadily. ‘Another unusual quality in a woman.’

 Anwyn returned the look. ‘Was that remark intended to be provocative?’

 ‘That’s right. Did it succeed?’

 It drew a reluctant laugh. ‘Yes, it did, you rogue.’

 His cup paused in mid-air. ‘Am I a rogue?

 ‘Yourself best knows.’

 ‘Hmm. Unpromising territory, I admit. Let’s talk about something else.’

 ‘Now that’s an unusual quality in a man.’

 His eyes gleamed. ‘How so?’

 ‘In my experience they like to talk about themselves—at length.’

 ‘Are we so tedious?’

 ‘How truthful would you like me to be?’

 ‘I would wish you always to be truthful with me.’ The words were quietly spoken, but they bore the ring of sincerity.

 It wasn’t what Anwyn had been expecting and for a moment it threw her off balance. So did the look in his eyes. ‘I will try to be,’ she replied.

 ‘Good. A successful business arrangement depends upon it.’

 ‘Yes, of course.’ She was relieved and grateful that he had brought the conversation back to business. It was much safer ground, as he must have realised.

 ‘Speaking of business,’ he continued, ‘I need to familiarise myself with Drakensburgh as a whole. To that end I wondered whether you would ride out with me tomorrow.’

 Anwyn’s heart gave a little leap. Suddenly the footing was distinctly shaky again. ‘Well, I don’t…I mean, I’m not sure…’

 ‘It would be very useful to me—enable me to see the whole picture, as it were.’

 ‘Would it?’

 ‘Most certainly.’ His blue eyes were earnest. ‘I already have a sound grasp of the inner defences, but I don’t want to leave anything to chance.’

 ‘Oh, I see.’

 ‘It’s a matter of strategic importance for the safety of all concerned.’ He paused. ‘Of course, if you’re too busy…’

 ‘No…yes…I mean I am busy, but not so much that I couldn’t spare a little time.’

 ‘Thank you. I’d appreciate it.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘Perhaps Eyvind might like to come along—with Ina, naturally.’

 Anwyn smiled. ‘I’m sure he would like that.’

 ‘That’s settled, then.’

 She bade him goodnight a short time later and, watching her go, Wulfgar let out a long breath. Hermund regarded him askance.

 ‘Well, I reckon I’ve heard it all now,’ he said, in accents suggestive of grudging admiration. ‘Strategic importance, eh?’

 ‘All right, I exaggerated. I admit it.’

 ‘Exaggerated? I never heard a more desperate ploy in my life.’

 Wulfgar raised an eyebrow. ‘Desperate? Hardly.’

 ‘Well, you had me fooled.’

 The reply was short, pithy and rude. Hermund guffawed.





The riders set out early next day, in a group of a dozen strong. Wulfgar really did want to familiarise himself with the Drakensburgh lands, information that would be useful to his men as well, but he didn’t want to be caught napping. Ingvar had sent a force across the boundary once before. Now that relations were less than cordial there was no telling what he might do in future, and Wulfgar had no intention of putting Anwyn and the boy in danger.

 The child was bright-eyed with excitement at the treat in prospect, but also a little overawed by the company. Wulfgar smiled, watching as Ina lifted the child on to the waiting pony. Then he turned to Anwyn.

 ‘Ready?’

 ‘Of course.’

 The words sounded natural enough, giving no clue to the chaos of thoughts in her mind. She had lain awake for much of the previous night, wondering if she had done the right thing in agreeing to this. However, the escort offered reassurance and made the excursion perfectly respectable. It occurred to her then that he must have known that when he organised it. They wouldn’t be alone together. Unwanted memories resurfaced. How was it with her when the very thought of him was enough to set her pulse racing? He was a temptation she could not afford.

 He held her horse’s bridle while she mounted, and waited until she was settled comfortably. Then he went to his own mount, a mettlesome chestnut that had formerly belonged to Torstein. He swung easily into the saddle and then brought the horse alongside hers.

 ‘Shall we go?’

 They rode in silence for a while, keeping to a steady pace in consequence of Eyvind’s presence. At first Anwyn kept her gaze firmly between the horse’s ears, reluctant even to look at her companion. Instead she let her thoughts dwell on the scenery around her. As they rode inland rough heath and stunted vegetation gave way to a softer landscape. Spring was well advanced now. Fresh new green graced every tree and bush, and wild flowers adorned the pastures where sheep and cattle grazed. New crops sprouted in the ploughed strips of arable land. The effect was of quiet and fertile prosperity.

 ‘A fair domain,’ said Wulfgar. ‘I can understand why Ingvar covets it.’

 Anwyn threw him a swift sideways glance. ‘He will never take it while I live.’

 ‘He’d be a fool to try now.’

 ‘Ironic, isn’t it? I hated Drakensburgh when first I came here. I used to dream of escape.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Now I am fighting to keep it.’

 He surveyed her with curiosity. ‘Was it really Drakensburgh that you hated?’

 ‘I hated anything that was connected to Torstein.’

 ‘Except for your son.’

 The words elicited another look, this time longer. ‘Except for him,’ she agreed. ‘It is for him that I must hold Drakensburgh.’

 ‘You will have your work cut out for you.’

 ‘I know it. I can only hope that Ingvar will see the futility of his ambitions and seek another wife.’

 ‘He will not give up,’ replied Wulfgar. ‘In his place neither would I.’

 Anwyn’s heart skipped a beat. Uncertain how to interpret that remark, she eyed him quizzically. ‘An adventurer does not seek lands or the responsibilities of a wife and child.’

 The muscles tensed along his jaw. ‘I was not always an adventurer. I, too, had land once, and a wife and son.’

 She stared at him. ‘What happened to them?’

 ‘They died of fever. There was an epidemic that summer. It took hundreds.’

 ‘I’m so sorry.’

 He sighed. ‘It was long ago and life moves on.’ For a brief instant his eyes expressed something very much like pain. Then it was gone. ‘We make shift as best we can, in my case to the life of an adventurer.’

 ‘What became of your home?’

 ‘I couldn’t bear the sight of it after they died so I burned it to the ground.’

 ‘I see.’

 ‘It served as a fitting funeral pyre.’

 Anwyn struggled to assimilate the knowledge. It revealed an entirely different view of this man, one she could never have suspected.

 ‘How old was he, your boy?’

 ‘Three.’

 She swallowed hard. That anything similar might happen to Eyvind was too awful to be contemplated.

 ‘What was his name?’

 ‘Toki.’

 ‘And your wife?’

 ‘Freya.’

 ‘Was she beautiful?’

 ‘Very beautiful.’

 Once again the succinct replies suggested that she had ventured into a private place, and she was immediately remorseful.

 ‘Forgive me, I did not mean to open old wounds.’

 ‘It’s all right,’ he replied. ‘The wounds are closed.’

 ‘Closed, but not perfectly healed, I think.’