The Viking’s Touch(24)

 ‘Lord Wulfgar won’t be here all the time,’ she went on. ‘He and his men will have business that takes them to different places.’

 ‘On the ship?’

 ‘Yes, on the ship.’

 ‘Will he take me on the ship?’

 ‘One day, perhaps, when you are older.’

 He nodded slowly. Anwyn drew him to her and dropped a kiss on his hair. God send that he would grow to manhood in peace and safety. She could do no more to try to ensure it.





Chapter Twelve

The wedding was a small and private ceremony; Jodis had brought Eyvind and they were joined by Ina and Hermund. For a moment bride and groom faced each other in silence. Wulfgar, too, had dressed himself with care for the occasion, clad in the deep blue tunic he had worn once before at the feast that first night. It became him well, she thought—indeed, rather better than well. It was also a perfect complement to her gown. Not that he could have known that, of course. He smiled at Eyvind for a moment. Then the blue gaze returned to meet hers.

 ‘You look wonderful,’ he said. ‘I had thought your beauty could not be enhanced, but I see now that I was wrong.’

 It was doubtless just a courtesy, she thought, but even so his words brought a warm glow to the core of her being. Torstein’s assessment of her appearance had only ever been confined to an occasional grunt. How very different it all was from the last time. Then she had been sick with dread. Her stomach was fluttering now, too, but for very different reasons. No matter what the circumstances of this unconventional match, Wulfgar was a dangerously attractive man.

 He took her hand. ‘Shall we?’

 The touch was light, but it set her flesh tingling nevertheless. No other man had ever made her feel as she did in his presence. It was effortlessly done and he seemed quite unconscious of the reaction he aroused; unless he was playing a much more subtle game, in which case it made things doubly hazardous.

 As they went into the small chapel, Anwyn realised that she knew nothing of her future husband’s beliefs and had not asked him. Seeing the expression of dismay that flickered across her face, he squeezed her fingers gently.

 ‘When my word is given it is good.’

 Relief washed over her and she returned his smile, albeit rather shyly now. Together they walked to meet the waiting priest. Anwyn had removed her ring earlier, a gesture that was symbolic as well as practical. It occurred to her then that Wulfgar might not have considered the need for a replacement; it was unlikely he would have. Or, having thought of it, he might not have been able to find one.

 She was mistaken. He not only produced one, it was beautiful. Made of gold, it was wrought in a cunning and intricate design of flowers and leaves. When he slid it on to her finger it was a near-perfect fit. And then the words were spoken; his in a tone that was clear and assured; a marked contrast to her own more halting responses. A short time later they were pronounced man and wife. He drew her close to him then and claimed the kiss that was his due, in a lingering embrace that turned the core of her being to liquid warmth.

 Then Jodis and Hermund came forwards to offer their congratulations. Eyvind stood quietly in the background with Ina, looking on. Wulfgar surveyed the child for a moment and then his eyes met Ina’s. The old warrior remained impassive, but led the boy forwards. Wulfgar smiled and held out a hand.

 ‘Come, walk with us.’

 Rather hesitantly Eyvind moved forwards and, guided by Wulfgar’s arm, came to stand between him and his mother. It was a simple gesture, but it was both tactful and kind. Anwyn’s heart warmed. She gave Eyvind’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and then looked over his head to the man beside him. Whatever happened between them now, she could tolerate much if he would be kind to her son.

 Together the little group returned to the sunshine outside. Wulfgar paused, regarding his bride steadily.

 ‘I suppose that now we had best make this matter known.’

 ‘Yes, the sooner the better, I think.’

 ‘I must speak to my men in private,’ he said. ‘There are things we need to discuss that concern them alone. Hermund, we’ll meet at the ship in an hour.’

 ‘Right you are.’

 ‘I’ll talk to the rest tonight after meat.’

 ‘Are you hoping they’ll all be mellow by then?’ asked Anwyn.

 ‘One can always hope.’ He looked at Ina. ‘Make sure everyone who can be is present at table tonight.’

 ‘As you will, my lord.’

 The old warrior departed then and Jodis took Eyvind off to the bower. Wulfgar watched them go for a moment before turning back to Anwyn.

 ‘Will you be all right?’

 ‘Of course.’

 ‘A foolish question.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘I regret leaving you like this, but it cannot be avoided.’

 ‘I know. Go and do you what you must. I’ll see you later at table.’

 ‘Aye.’ He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. ‘Until then, Anwyn.’

 She watched him walk away, feeling suddenly bereft, the imprint of his kiss burning her hand.





Wulfgar’s men heard him in incredulous silence, which evolved into grudging admiration and then amusement.

 ‘I have to say, lord, it’s impressive,’ said Thrand, ‘when you consider how short a time we’ve been here.’

 Asulf nodded. ‘Aye, give us a few pointers, my lord. Then we might all find beautiful and wealthy wives.’

 ‘Wouldn’t make any difference how many pointers you got,’ replied Beorn. ‘A woman’d have to be blind before she’d agree to wed you.’

 A burst of good-natured laughter greeted this.

 ‘So we’re still going to join Rollo, then?’ said Thrand.

 ‘Aye,’ replied Wulfgar. ‘But first there is the matter of Ingvar.’

 Asulf grinned. ‘No worries, my lord. We’ll take care of it. Cut his throat, burn his hall…it’s quite straightforward.’

 ‘That’s right,’ said Thrand. ‘While we’re at it we can take care of Grymar Big Mouth as well.’

 A groundswell of agreement followed. Wulfgar held up a hand for quiet.

 ‘Before we do any of those things I want to try peaceful means first.’ Seeing their evident disappointment, he went on, ‘I have given my word on this.’

 ‘Pity,’ said Hermund. ‘Still, once you’ve promised a woman that’s it. Never hear the end of it otherwise.’

 ‘I said I’d try,’ replied Wulfgar. ‘Of course, it may not work.’

 ‘Chances are it won’t. I can’t see Ingvar losing with good grace.’

 ‘In that case I might have to reconsider.’

 His men exchanged wolfish grins. Shortly after this the meeting broke up and they drifted off in smaller groups. Hermund looked at Wulfgar.

 ‘That went off all right.’

 ‘Aye, but it remains to be seen whether the Drakensburgh retainers are quite as accepting.’

 ‘What’s next, then?’

 ‘I want their oaths of fealty. Nothing less will do.’

 Hermund nodded. ‘Most of them have accepted our presence here. Likely the rest will fall into line.’

 ‘Perhaps. At all events keep your wits about you this evening.’

 ‘I will.’





Despite the limited time available Anwyn had managed to arrange a more splendid repast than usual that evening. The thought had occurred to her, too, that men well fed and plied with several cups of ale might be more amenable to what they were about to hear. Unlike them she ate little for, in truth, her stomach felt knotted.

 She glanced at Wulfgar, but he seemed quite unperturbed. However, it was habitual with him to conceal his thought and she could rarely tell what he was thinking. He drank but sparingly, she noted. Evidently he meant to keep his wits sharp.

 Eventually, when he judged the time was right, he pushed back his chair and got to his feet, thumping the table with his fist. Conversation died and all eyes turned towards him in surprise. Anwyn’s hands clenched round the arms of the chair.

 The announcement was received in dumbfounded silence and for the space of a few heartbeats the only sound was of crackling flames in the hearth.

 ‘I hope that we may continue to work together in unity and friendship,’ he continued. ‘Certainly I need good men. Drakensburgh needs good men. As its new lord I will receive oaths of fealty from all those who wish to give them.’

 ‘And what if we don’t?’ Across the room Thorkil rose unsteadily to his feet.

 ‘Then you are free to leave and go where you will,’ said Wulfgar.

 ‘You didn’t waste much time, did you, Viking?’ Thorkil glared at him. ‘But then a wealthy widow is a fine prize, isn’t she?’

 Sigurd, and one or two others, muttered agreement. Anwyn’s eyes sparkled with anger as she stared them down.

 ‘Do not presume to question my decisions, Thorkil. This was my choice, and freely made.’

 ‘Made for a handsome face, more like.’