The Viking’s Touch(51)

 ‘Come,’ he said. ‘We’re going home.’





Epilogue

Twelve months later

‘Look! They’re coming!’ From his vantage point on Wulfgar’s shoulders Eyvind pointed to the approaching riders.

 ‘So they are.’ Wulfgar lifted him down. ‘Run and tell Rorik to open the gate.’

 ‘Yes, Father.’

 As Eyvind raced off Anwyn took a last swift glance at her gown, smoothing a tiny wrinkle from the blue fabric. The man beside her smiled.

 ‘You look wonderful.’

 In truth, she had taken a lot of time and care over her appearance, wanting to do honour to the arriving guests. Even so, she could not help feeling a little nervous.

 So much would depend on this meeting and she wanted to be a credit to Wulfgar. Sensing something of her apprehension, he took her hand and squeezed it gently.

 ‘It will all be well. You’ll see.’

 ‘I pray it will.’

 ‘Come,’ he said.

 She took a deep breath and followed him down the steps from the rampart as the riders passed through the open gateway. She watched as the foremost of them dismounted and moments later he and Wulfgar were locked in a hearty hug. Then the stranger glanced over Wulfgar’s shoulder and piercing blue eyes met her gaze.

 For a moment she experienced the uncanny sensation of looking at an older version of Wulfgar. The two men were startlingly alike. Like Wulfgar, the newcomer had undeniable presence, but withal he possessed the gravitas that only age and experience could give.

 ‘You must be Anwyn,’ he said.

 ‘Earl Wulfrum,’ she replied. ‘I bid you welcome.’

 He smiled and bent to kiss her cheek. ‘I always knew my son had good taste, but it seems to have got even better over the years.’

 Under that blue gaze Anwyn felt herself blush. The thought occurred that he, too, must have been dangerously attractive in his youth—attractive enough to win the heart of his captive Saxon bride.

 Lady Elgiva embraced her son and then came to join them. Advancing years could not hide the vintage beauty she had once been, though they had added silver strands to the gold of her hair. Stunning amber eyes scrutinised Anwyn now from head to toe, then warmed in a smile.

 ‘My husband is right,’ she observed.

 Wulfgar grinned. ‘I take after him in that respect.’

 ‘Well, I’m glad I passed on a grain of good sense at least,’ replied Wulfrum. Then his gaze fell on the child who had returned to stand beside Anwyn. ‘And who is this?’

 Wulfgar laid a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. ‘My stepson, Eyvind.’

 ‘A fine boy. How old are you, Eyvind?’

 ‘Six years and a quarter, my lord.’

 Wulfrum’s lips twitched. ‘Is it so? Have you begun your training yet?’

 ‘Yes, my lord.’

 ‘Then later you shall show me what you have learned.’

 Eyvind reddened with pleasure. Anwyn’s heart swelled. It was a kind attention that she had not expected.

 ‘Shall we go in?’ she suggested. ‘You must be tired after your journey.’

 ‘Not so tired that I would wait longer to see my newest grandchild,’ said Elgiva.

 ‘Grandchildren,’ corrected Wulfgar. Then, as she stared at him, he added, ‘Twins.’

 ‘But the messenger said…’

 ‘The messenger told the truth as he knew it. The second baby was born after he’d left. It took us all unawares. Rather than send another man after him, we decided to let the rest come as a surprise.’

 Wulfrum laughed. ‘Well, by all the gods! Twins, you say?’

 ‘A boy and a girl—Wulfhere and Asta.’

 ‘That’s wonderful,’ said Elgiva. Then she looked at Anwyn. ‘Though no doubt it was hard for you, my dear.’

 ‘Their births were much easier than my first.’

 ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ She smiled. ‘By and by we shall sit apart and talk.’

 Seeing the kindness in her expression, Anwyn’s nervousness began to diminish. ‘I would like that, my lady.’

 Wulfgar gestured towards the hall. ‘Let us go in, then.’

 The babies had been left in Jodis’s care and were currently lying on a rug in front of the fire. They stared at the visitors in blue-eyed wonder. Within moments they were carefully gathered up and became the centre of fawning attention.

 ‘See what a grip the child has!’ said Wulfrum as Wulfhere’s tiny fist closed round his little finger. ‘He’s going to be a fine warrior one day and no mistake.’

 ‘And his sister will be a beauty,’ said Elgiva. ‘Just like her mother.’

 Anwyn smiled. ‘I hope she won’t inherit her mother’s faults.’

 ‘Don’t worry, my dear. She’ll be quite capable of developing her own.’ With that, Elgiva began to reminisce about the days when her own children had been young.

 Wulfgar smiled and, heart full, let the conversation drift over him, watching the scene with quiet pride. Once, standing amid the ashes of his former life, he had thought himself accursed; now all that he believed lost had been restored in full measure. He had been given a second chance and he meant to seize it: to make Drakensburgh thrive; to watch his children grow up. More than all of that, he had been given a chance to love again. In truth, the gods had been kind. They would not regret such generosity for he had learned how to value their gifts.

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