Gwendolyn was astonished at how quickly he dressed, and with such practiced efficiency. Lastly he pulled a massive wooden shield from the timbered wall where it had been hanging. It was brightly painted in black and yellow, and an iron boss glinted from the center that would serve to protect his hand.
Hakon ran his free hand through his white-blond hair and approached the bed. He bent and picked up his heavy broadsword and slid it easily into the scabbard at his belt. "You must stay here, Anora, in this room, until I return," he commanded softly. "There will be guards posted outside the hall to protect you, so you need not fear. 'Tis my hope that the battle will be fought and won before night falls once again." His voice grew hard as he thought of what lay ahead. He could tarry no longer. "I must go, my love," he said, the bronzed planes of his face determined, grim.
Gwendolyn suddenly rose from the bed, the fur coverlet falling to the floor. She flung her arms about his neck, standing on tiptoes, and kissed him with such passionate fervor that it nearly took his breath away. The iron links of his mail shirt bit cruelly into her skin, but she did not care. Nothing mattered for that one moment but the kiss they shared.
At last Hakon tore his lips from hers, chuckling deeply. "I shall look forward to many more of those, my love." He strode over to the table near the window and picked up his silver helmet. Holding it in the crook of his arm, he glanced one last time at Gwendolyn.
She stood beside the bed, her beautiful body bared to his heated gaze. Thor, he had never before seen her look so vulnerable and alone! "Do not fear, little one, Odin shall protect me," he murmured reassuringly. And with that, he was gone from the room, his footsteps echoing down the length of the hall until the heavy door slammed shut behind him.
Gwendolyn waited a moment, still and silent, until she was sure he was gone. Then, without wasting any more time, she raced over to her chest of clothing and threw back the lid. Nay, my love, I shall be with you, she thought resolutely, not as Anora, but as Garric . . . She knew Hakon would probably need the services of his stable hand to see to his stallion, and perhaps he would even need a weapons bearer. Their guise would fail for sure if Anora went with him into battle. Her sister knew nothing of weapons and warfare. Aye, if she hurried, she would probably make it to the stable before he got there!
Gwendolyn pulled her jerkin, woolen shirt, leather belt, and breeches out from beneath the pile of silken garments, and dressed quickly. She then ran to the wide bed and peered underneath it. Her leather boots were out of reach, but after a few lunges she was able to grab them and put them on her feet. Now, all that was needed was a weapon, she thought, glancing about the room. She was not about to go onto a battlefield empty-handed!
Her eyes scanned the array of weapons hanging on the timbered walls of the chamber. Spying a long-bladed knife with an ornately carved hilt, she lifted it from the two wooden pegs it was resting on and slid it into her belt. She then ran back over to the bed and mounded several eiderdown pillows up beneath the fur coverlet. At least that way if anyone came into the room, they would think she was fast asleep and not disturb her!
Gwendolyn hurried to the nearest window and lifted the leather shade. She peered outside furtively. The early morning sky was just beginning to lighten with the first golden rays of sunlight. Several inches of new snow had fallen during the night, adding to the icy covering already on the frozen ground. Relieved at seeing no one near Hakon's hall, she hoisted herself up and over the window ledge and jumped easily to the ground below.
She hugged the outside wall for a moment, getting her bearings. Suddenly two Viking guards rounded the corner of Hakon's hall, so she started walking nonchalantly in the direction of the stable. Her heart was pounding wildly against her chest. Sweet Jesu! If they had come a moment sooner . . .! She did not want to think about it. It certainly would have looked suspicious for a stable hand to be sneaking out of the window of Hakon Jarl's private chamber! She had almost reached the path to the stable not far from the hall when she heard a familiar voice call out to her.
"Garric!" She froze in her steps, looking over her shoulder. Hakon was standing near the front of his hall surrounded by Olav and about twenty Viking warriors. "Fetch my stallion, lad, and be quick about it!" he commanded in a tone that bespoke no resistance. Gwendolyn broke out in a run, her panting breath billowing out in clouds of vapor from the cold morning air.
God's blood, that was twice she had been lucky! Hakon had obviously not yet been to the stable. She only hoped now that he would not return to his chamber and find her gone! Reaching the stable door, she pushed it open and leaned against it for a moment, trying to catch her breath.
"Garric, are you here?" she called out, not daring to use Anora's name until she knew for sure her sister was alone. Her eyes searched the dim interior. There was no answer. At least it was warm, Gwendolyn thought, rubbing her cold hands together as she closed the door behind her and stepped farther into the stable. "Garric?" There was a sudden rustling from the direction of one of the stalls.
"Aye, 'tis I," Anora whispered faintly, stepping out from behind the nearest stall. There was hay stuck in her short curls, and from the rumpled appearance of the clothing Gwendolyn had given her the night before, she must have been sleeping. She rubbed her eyes, then stared in startled surprise at her sister.
"Gwendolyn, what are you doing?" she blurted, though not too loudly. "We cannot both be dressed as Garric!" Gwendolyn shook her head and quickly explained. "Lord Hakon has received news that Rhoar Bloodaxe is planning to attack this very day!" She ignored Anora's gasp and rushed on. "I changed into these clothes and hurried here." She smiled fleetingly. "The same way you escaped last night. I have no doubts that Lord Hakon will wish for Garric to accompany him to the battlefield. As I did not think you would enjoy the task, I came as quickly as I could!"
Anora nodded fiercely in agreement, her eyes wide and frightened. "But how shall I get back to his hall? It was hard enough last night, though thankfully I had cover of darkness."
"Nay, you will have to stay here, in the stable," Gwendolyn replied. "But you must keep yourself hidden. Hakon bade me not to leave the chamber before he left this morning. If he saw you walk now from the stable . . ." She shrugged. Anora nodded in understanding.
"Aye, but what of when you return, after the battle?" she asked, then shuddered. Nay, she would not think that Gwendolyn might not return.
Gwendolyn seemed to have read her thoughts. "Do not fear, Anora, I will stay far back and well out of danger," she said reassuringly. "I am sure the Vikings do not employ mere youths to fight their battles!" She grimaced. At least, she hoped not! "And when I return to the settlement, I will simply sneak back through the window of Lord Hakon's hall and resume my guise. No one will be the wiser!"
Suddenly she heard the tramp of many feet and loud voices echoing from the stable yard. They must be getting ready to march from the settlement, she thought wildly. "Anora, hide yourself, and well!" she hissed. "I will somehow let you know when all is safe for you to come out of hiding."
"Please be careful, Gwendolyn," Anora murmured. She hugged her sister tightly, then disappeared into the dark recesses of the stable.
Gwendolyn ran to the stall where Hakon's great stallion stood tossing its proud head and neighing loudly in response to the sounds from other horses in the stable yard. With practiced hands she quickly saddled the huge animal, then grabbed the reins and led it from the stable.
"What took you so long, lad?" Hakon asked angrily, striding toward her. "Do you think the battle waits upon your pleasure?" He grabbed the reins from her hand. "Here, hold my shield while I mount." Gwendolyn almost collapsed under the heavy weight of the brightly painted shield, but somehow she managed to hold it upright until Hakon could take it from her. He hoisted it easily from her arms and fixed it to the side of his saddle. "Join the other boys back there, and be ready to assist if you are needed," he said gruffly. Pulling sharply on the reins, he brought the spirited stallion about so he could face his men.
Hakon felt a surge of excitement course through his body as several hundred pairs of eyes stared back at him with fierce, undying allegiance. Most of his warriors were on foot, some armed with spears, axes, and rude cudgels, while others had swords and bows and arrows slung over their shoulders. Only he and the petty chieftains under his rule were on horseback. All was quiet, hushed, save for the impatient nickering of the horses, and the sound of the cold wind as it whipped through the white banners painted with leering, fanged dragons that were carried by the standard-bearers.
Hakon pulled his mighty broadsword from its scabbard and lifted it high above his head. "To Odin!" he shouted loudly. "To victory!"
A great roar went up from the Viking warriors. "Odin! Odin!" they intoned, as if with one thundering voice. "Odin! Odin!" Their fierce cries echoed about the mountainsides across the fjord as they marched from the settlement behind their Jarl.
Chapter 34
Gwendolyn dropped the spears she was carrying and let the heavy quiver of arrows slip from her shoulder to the snow-covered ground. They had been marching for close to an hour. Hakon's forces had moved stealthily along the hillsides, scattering and rejoining according to the nature of the ground, until they had reached the valley where Rhoar and his army of renegade Vikings had camped during the night.