The Viking’s Touch(29)

 ‘I…I dreamed that Torstein was here. That he—’ She broke off, sickened.

 ‘That he what?’

 She shook her head. ‘It was just a dream. It doesn’t matter.’

 He made no attempt to force her confidence. ‘A dream cannot harm you.’ Giving her a reassuring smile, he moved away to the other side of the room and began to undress. Then he blew out the lamp and climbed into bed.

 Anwyn lay still, every muscle taut, heart still thumping against her ribs. Every thought of sleep had fled now to be replaced with memories five years deep. Almost all of them were repellent. She had never spoken about them to anyone save Jodis, and even then had not told all. Yet somehow, lying here now, she felt an overwhelming need to speak. Perhaps the darkness made it easier. She took a deep breath.

 ‘I dreamed that Torstein was back.’

 Wulfgar remained very still, waiting. Slowly, haltingly, she told him the substance of her dream. He listened, sickened to the pit of his stomach. He had already gathered that the relationship had been unhappy, but he had never guessed at the extent of it.

 ‘I loathed him,’ she went on, ‘and he knew it. For that reason it pleased him to prolong our coupling and especially to…to inflict pain. It aroused him, you see.’

 Wulfgar did see. With the knowledge came understanding and a feeling of sadness mingled with deep and burning anger. In that moment he would have been glad if Torstein had returned just to have had the pleasure of killing him again.

 ‘In the early days of our marriage I used every ruse possible to avoid my so-called wifely duties. I even tried to refuse him…’ She hesitated. ‘A taste of his belt soon showed me the folly of doing so. And after he had beaten me he took me anyway. It pleased him to hear me scream.’

 ‘Anwyn, I’m so sorry.’

 ‘Why should you be? It was not your doing.’

 There were so many things he might have replied to that question; there were so many reasons to be sorry. Now more than ever he was glad he had not let desire rule his head. The thought of being equated in her mind with Torstein was anathema.

 ‘No, it wasn’t,’ he agreed, ‘but being a man I cannot help but feel ashamed.’

 ‘You have done nothing to be ashamed of. On the contrary, I owe you much.’

 Wulfgar’s jaw tightened. Nothing to be ashamed of? At any other time he might have laughed. ‘You owe me nothing,’ he said.

 The words came out more harshly than he had intended. Anwyn stirred and he sensed rather than saw her turn towards him.

 ‘And yet if it were not for you I would have fallen prey to Ingvar.’

 ‘For that I am glad.’

 ‘I also.’ She reached out and touched his shoulder, a soft and tentative gesture that set every nerve tingling down the length of his body. ‘Thank you.’

 ‘Torstein cannot hurt you now,’ he said.

 ‘I know it, and yet the memories remain.’

 ‘They will fade in time, and then the dreams will stop.’ Very carefully he shifted his weight and brought an arm round her shoulders. At once he felt her tense. ‘Don’t be afraid. Nothing bad is going to happen; only that I would hold you awhile.’

 He dropped a kiss on her hair. Anwyn didn’t move, but as the moments passed and nothing bad did happen some of her tension faded. His warmth was comforting, even reassuring. Slowly, cautiously, she leaned her head against his chest, breathing the scent of musk on his skin, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. She felt his hand stroking her hair, a soft caress that soothed fear and removed it. She sighed, and closed her eyes. Somehow it felt right to be here like this, right and strangely safe.





When Anwyn woke it was to a feeling of warmth and general well-being. She smiled to herself and glanced across at the man who now shared her bed. He was still asleep, his face peaceful in repose. Carefully, so as not to disturb him, she shifted her weight, propping herself on one elbow, letting her gaze take in the details. The more she looked, the more of an enigma he became. The memory of his gentleness left a feeling of abiding warmth deep inside her. This tenderness was so far removed from her experience; more beguiling and more disturbing than anything she could have anticipated, not least for the feelings it engendered in return. She knew then how easy it would be to love such a man.

 She sighed. Wulfgar was charismatic in so many ways, but at heart he remained an adventurer. One day, in the not-too-distant future, he would be gone and, as he had said, perhaps for years. Given the hazardous nature of his profession there was a chance he might never come back at all. She swallowed hard. His was such a commanding presence that already it was difficult to imagine a world where he was not.

 Uncomfortable with the direction of her thoughts, Anwyn rose. Reaching for a comb, she sat down and began to draw it through her hair. The narrow teeth found a small tangle and she winced, focusing her attention that way. It took some time to free, but at last it was accomplished and she resumed, absorbed in the task now. She had been working on it for some time when she had the sensation of being observed. Instinctively she looked round. Her gaze met Wulfgar’s and she saw him smile.

 ‘Good morning, my lady.’

 She returned the greeting and resumed what she had been doing, supremely conscious of that close scrutiny. Somehow, in his presence, even the simplest personal tasks became strangely intimate and gave rise to sensations that were better left unexplored.

 He watched for a little while longer, then rose from the bed and reached for his clothes. Anwyn kept her attention resolutely on the task in hand. Wulfgar undressed was an even greater distraction than usual. Possibly out of deference to her sensibilities he donned breeches and hose before venturing across the room to bathe his face. Having done that, he pulled on his shirt and tunic and latched the belt at his waist. Then he reached for his shoes. Within a short time he was ready to face the day.

 ‘Will you excuse me, Anwyn? I need to speak to Hermund and Ina about training practices for the men.’

 ‘Of course.’

 ‘Then I’ll see you later.’

 With that he was gone. Anwyn let out another long breath.





Wulfgar kept the men busy all morning, taking them through a rigorous routine of military exercises. In this he was aided by Ina. It left Hermund free to organise the patrols for the day. Just because Ingvar had now been informed of the situation pertaining at Drakensburgh, it didn’t mean he would abide by it. Accordingly Wulfgar sent out half-a-dozen patrols to cover different areas of the estate, and when they were done others would relieve them. They were his eyes and ears and he could ill afford to be without them.

 He had also spoken to Ina about recruiting more fighters for Drakensburgh from among the local population. When the time came to leave he needed to be sure that there was an adequate force to look after the place in his absence.

 ‘I think it will not be hard to find volunteers,’ said Ina. ‘The problem will be turning the raw material into an effective fighting force.’

 Wulfgar nodded. ‘We have enough experienced men to pass on the necessary skills. With an intensive period of training we can knock them into shape.’

 Eyvind, who had been watching the practices closely, now turned to look up at them, brandishing a small wooden sword. ‘I want to fight.’

 ‘One day you will,’ replied Wulfgar. ‘But first you must learn how.’ He moved to stand beside the child. ‘You must hold your sword thus…that’s it. Good. Now let’s try a few basic moves…’





When, some time later, Anwyn came in search of her son, it was to see him practising alongside his large mentor. Both were so involved in what they were doing that they failed to notice her presence, giving her time to watch unobserved. Eyvind imitated Wulfgar’s movements exactly, clearly hanging on every word he uttered. Ina stood some yards off, surveying the proceedings with a tolerant eye.

 ‘Isn’t Eyvind a little young for this?’ she asked.

 The old warrior smiled. ‘He is keen to learn, my lady.’

 ‘Yes, he is. Ever since you gave him the wooden sword he’s talked of little else.’

 ‘It’ll do him no harm to learn a few simple manoeuvres.’

 ‘I suppose not.’ Anwyn glanced at the fighting pairs all around them, a somewhat dubious look whose import did not escape Ina.

 ‘No harm will come to him, my lady.’

 Feeling a little foolish, she smiled. ‘No, you’re right, of course.’

 Just then Wulfgar looked up and, seeing her, smiled. Eyvind, following the line of his gaze, smiled, too, a great beaming smile that lit his face. She thought he had never looked so happy. The sight brought a lump into her throat. It was a forceful reminder of how much things had changed since Wulfgar’s coming—changes for the better and in so many unexpected ways. Unwilling to disturb the little scene she remained where she was, continuing to watch from the sidelines.





After ten minutes Wulfgar called a halt. ‘That’s enough for today. You can practice what I’ve shown you.’