Wulfgar remained in the prow, his gaze held by the receding figure on the shore. She seemed small and somehow very vulnerable, her loneliness more apparent in that moment than it had ever been. It touched something within him that had been long buried. He wished now that he had brought her along with them; she might have enjoyed it. Certainly her company would have been most congenial to him. She was not yet out of sight, but he missed her already. He did not care to think too deeply about an absence of years.
Chapter Twenty
The men returned in the early evening. Anwyn heard them come and hurried to greet them. As they approached she could see Wulfgar in their midst with Eyvind perched on his shoulders once more. When at length he was set on his feet he ran to meet her. Grubby and dishevelled, he exuded happiness from every pore and began to give her a full account of the day. She listened closely. It soon became clear that he had explored every part of the ship in detail. However, she heard nothing that could give her cause for alarm.
Eventually Eyvind concluded his tale and ran off to find Jodis. Anwyn looked up at Wulfgar.
‘Did he behave himself?’
‘He was no trouble at all. In fact, I think he’ll make a natural sailor one day.’
The words aroused feelings of both pride and pain. ‘Thank you for taking him out today. He has obviously enjoyed it.’
‘So did I. He’s a fine boy.’
‘You are very good with him.’
‘I happen to like children.’
Her heart leapt. ‘Do you?’
‘Of course.’
Anwyn glanced around at the milling groups of men. This wasn’t the place or the time. She drew a deep breath and smiled. ‘Was the sea trial all you expected?’
‘Aye, it was. No problems at all.’
‘That’s good.’
‘And now I could eat an ox between two mattresses.’
‘As well then that the food is ready,’ she replied.
He slid an arm around her waist and they went in together.
The mood in the hall was jovial that evening, the air full of laughter and lively banter. Anwyn let it wash over her, feeling strangely content. Wulfgar’s former mood was conspicuous by its absence and he seemed quite at ease, talking and smiling, more relaxed than she had seen him for a while. Anwyn smiled, too. Later perhaps, when they were alone, she would find the words to tell him her news. How would he take it? Would it please him to know she carried his child?
Somewhat to her surprise he did not linger to drink with his men. On the contrary, he seemed keen to retire. Recalling their parting words that morning, she felt her heartbeat quicken. Of course, he might have forgotten that by now. This eagerness to repair to their chamber might be due merely to fatigue.
However, she was swiftly disabused of that notion. As soon as they were alone he undressed her and then himself and took her to bed. It seemed that he had not forgotten their earlier conversation either. His lovemaking was passionate and tender and she surrendered herself completely, wanting to remember every detail, every sensation, storing each one in her heart.
Later, deliciously sated, they lay together in the drowsy darkness. After a little while Anwyn turned towards him, slowly tracing a finger across his chest.
‘Wulfgar?’
‘Mmm?’
‘There was something I wanted to ask you.’
‘What is it, sweet?’
‘Did you ever wish to have more sons?’
For the space of several heartbeats he was silent, but she sensed that he was looking at her now. Then he spoke. ‘The life of a mercenary is hardly conducive to raising children. They are a tie that binds a man.’
She swallowed hard. ‘So you would never want children to continue your name and your line?’
‘A man’s fame lives after him.’
‘Is that enough, then?’
‘It has been enough for me.’
‘I see.’
He glanced down, trying to read her face. ‘You need not fear that I would demand sons, Anwyn. You have made your views clear on that subject.’
‘I know, but…’
‘It’s all right. I am not angered that you take good care to prevent the possibility.’ He smiled wryly, conscious of an unwonted twinge of sadness. ‘It’s a complication neither of us needs under the circumstances.’
She closed her eyes, glad of the darkness that hid her face. ‘As you say, my lord.’
‘In any case you already have a fine son.’
‘Yes.’
‘Never trouble yourself with such thoughts, Anwyn. I assure you that I don’t.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘Now, my sweet, the hour grows late and we should get some sleep.’
She felt the mattress shift beneath his weight as he turned on to his side, and a short time later the sound of deep and regular breathing. Beside him Anwyn lay awake, staring into the darkness.
Wulfgar woke early and, seeing that Anwyn was still deeply asleep, rose quietly and began to dress. As he did so he pondered their earlier conversation. He had noticed her preoccupied look for some time so clearly the subject must have been weighing on her mind. He had given her the only answer he felt able to make, even if it hadn’t been entirely truthful. He would not have her feel guilty. A part of him was honoured that she should even consider the idea of bearing his children, knowing her antipathy for the whole business. Not that he blamed her. Even in a loving marriage it was dangerous. Women often died in childbed. Babies perished, too. For an instant, he saw Toki’s face, then Eyvind’s. Remorse and wishing didn’t change anything.
He looked down at the sleeping form on the bed, conscious of mixed emotions. This brief liaison with Anwyn had brought him happiness, more indeed than he could ever have expected. For that alone he would be for ever in her debt. If he had met her under other circumstances they might well have made a life together, made a family together. It was a beguiling thought. If the gods permitted it he would return one day and then perhaps… He sighed. Bending, he kissed her lightly and then departed.
Now that the new dwellings were finished he could turn his full attention to the forthcoming voyage yet, oddly, the feeling of blood-stirring anticipation that usually preceded a voyage was lacking. Forcing himself to concentrate, he began to make a mental inventory of the things they were going to need. Having done that, he communicated it to Hermund a little later.
‘No problem, my lord. We’ll find most of it right here—bread, ale, flitches of bacon and the like.’
‘We’ll have to negotiate elsewhere for smoked herring and eels,’ said Wulfgar.
‘There’s a good place just down the coast a little way. Asulf and I found it one day when we were out on patrol.’
‘Tested the quality, did you?’
‘Someone had to,’ replied Hermund. ‘For future reference, of course.’
‘Naturally.’
‘I could negotiate now for what we need and then arrange for us to collect the goods on our way out. Save having to cart the stuff back here and avoid double handling.’
‘True enough. Let’s do that.’
‘Right you are.’
Hermund went off to oversee the matter and Wulfgar went to the smithy to see Ethelwald for whom he had a small but important commission. After that he went to find Ina.
The old warrior was undertaking some basic sword craft with Eyvind. For a minute or two Wulfgar watched. As he did so he realised how much he was going to miss them both. He had come to respect Ina’s quiet wisdom and shrewd mind. Without his support at Drakensburgh things would have been much harder. And Eyvind… He sighed. How old would he be when next they met? Would the boy even remember him? The thought was unwelcome. Suddenly the whole business of departure was becoming fraught with unexpected layers of complexity. Pushing these to the back of his mind, he crossed the intervening space to join them.
Eyvind saw him first and smiled. Ina glanced round. An instant later the wooden sword touched his ribs.
‘A hit! A hit!’
‘It was a hit, you young rascal,’ replied Ina. ‘Serves me right, too.’
Wulfgar grinned. ‘You shouldn’t have fallen for that one, especially after seeing what happened to me before.’
‘I know it, my lord.’ The old warrior looked proudly at his charge. ‘He’s going to be good one day.’
‘He’s pretty good now, I’d say,’ replied Wulfgar. ‘After all, he’s slain the pair of us, has he not?’
Ina chuckled softly, then, giving Eyvind a good-natured pat on the backside, told him to run along. When the child had gone he turned back to Wulfgar, eyeing him shrewdly.
‘There is something you wish to speak of, my lord?’
‘Aye.’ He paused, feeling for the words. ‘In a few days from now I shall be gone. There is no way of knowing how long. It would please me to know that you were looking after the boy and his mother.’
The old warrior met his eye and held it. ‘I have done so since Earl Torstein died and, in the absence of any other protector, I shall continue to do so.’