Jodis nodded. ‘That he has.’
‘Ina has played a large part in that. He is a good mentor for the child.’ Anwyn smiled faintly. ‘Eyvind looks up to him. These days almost every sentence starts with “Ina says…”’
‘Aye, it does. I think if Ina told him to stand on his head in the midden, Eyvind would do it.’
‘That he would. For all his gruff ways, Ina has been more of a father-figure than Torstein ever was.’
‘You are both free now, my lady. Torstein cannot hurt you more.’
‘He cannot.’
Jodis heard the inflection and understood at once. ‘But Lord Ingvar could.’
‘His reputation is well known.’
Jodis shuddered. ‘And well earned, too, as we have proof.’
‘No solid proof; he’s too clever for that. The loss of livestock or the burning of a rick might easily be attributed to other causes.’
‘That’s a lot of unexplained mishaps.’
‘Too many, and yet I dare not openly accuse him. In any case it is his men who carry out these deeds, not he himself. Thus he can pretend innocence. By keeping up the pressure he thinks that I’ll give in eventually.’
‘How does he dare to face you?’
‘Pretence comes naturally to him. The man is a predator. One only needs to be in his company for ten minutes to know it.’
The maid looked up quickly. ‘He has not taken liberties, my lady?’
‘No, he’s not that stupid. He hides cruelty behind a smooth manner and honeyed words. I will never deliver myself or my son into his clutches, nor my people, neither.’
‘No-one could blame you for that. All the same, he grows more importunate.’
Anwyn sighed. ‘Don’t I know it?’
Lord Ingvar’s face loomed large in her mind; with its almost aristocratic lines framed by pale gold hair some might have considered it handsome, but for the thin-lipped mouth and the slanting gold-brown eyes that reminded her of a hunting cat. A little above the average height, he also had the lean form of a cat. The words of their last conversation were etched on her memory…
‘Think about it, Anwyn. Beranhold lands adjoin yours. What could be more practical or more sensible than to merge our two estates? My war band is strong. Put yourself under my protection.’
‘I thank you, my lord, but I have protection enough.’
‘Ah, yes. Torstein guarded you well, did he not? I don’t blame him for that; I would do exactly the same.’
A sudden chill raised gooseflesh along her arms. ‘I am quite sure of it.’
His voice grew softer, almost tender. ‘Would you not prefer to let a man shoulder the burdens for you?’
‘I can shoulder my own burdens well enough.’
‘That you are courageous is not in doubt. However, widowhood is a sad condition and a lonely one, especially for so lovely a woman.’ One hand reached out and lightly touched the edge of her braid. ‘Do you not long for a man to share your bed again—especially a man who appreciates beauty and knows how to please a woman?’
Her gut tightened. ‘I am not ready to marry again.’
‘You say so now, but I know how to be patient.’
‘Do not hold out hopes of me, my lord.’
‘When I set my heart on something I use every means at my disposal to get it.’
Anwyn suppressed a shiver at the memory. ‘I refused his suit long since,’ she continued, ‘yet barely a week goes by without his calls on some pretext or other.’
‘He is much smitten.’
‘Smitten with lands and wealth more like.’
Jodis shook her head. ‘A woman alone is vulnerable. You won’t be able to hold him off for ever, unless…’
‘Unless what?’
‘Unless you were to find another husband.’
‘I have no desire to marry again.’
‘If you do not, your father will choose for you.’
‘He has already intimated as much,’ replied Anwyn, ‘or at least my brother did when last he visited. Torstein had barely been dead three months! Osric takes after Father in his determination to increase our family’s wealth and holdings.’
‘Both of them are determined, my lady, and they see you as the key to future success.’
‘Another marriage for me; another step on the ladder to power for them. A wealthy northern earl, Osric said.’ Anwyn grimaced. ‘But I will not suffer them to make another match for me.’
‘You will likely have no choice, my lady. Your father is powerful and ambitious.’
‘He has furthered his ambitions at my expense already.’
‘But you remain a desirable marital prize.’
‘Maybe so, but the very thought of another marriage is repugnant to me.’
‘I did not mean a husband like Earl Torstein,’ Jodis replied, ‘but a good man, a kind man even.’
‘A man who is both good and kind? Now there’s a thought.’
Before either of them could say more, the child’s voice broke in. ‘Mother, can we have a canter now?’ He and his mentor had halted their mounts, waiting for her to draw level. The child’s green eyes were eager, pleading. ‘Ina says I can if you give your permission.’
Anwyn looked over his head at his companion. For all his fifty years the old warrior was still an upright figure whose sturdy frame spoke of compact strength. Grizzled locks and beard belied a shrewd mind and his dark eyes missed very little. He had besides an air of quiet authority. In the days after Torstein’s death he had been an invaluable ally, one she had learned to trust.
‘Very well, then, just as far as the dunes.’ She paused. ‘And be sure to take it steady.’
Needing no further encouragement, Eyvind turned the pony’s head and clapped his heels to its sides. The sturdy little creature broke into a canter. Beside him, Ina reined back, checking his mount’s longer stride to keep pace. Anwyn grinned and looked at Jodis.
‘How about it?’
Moments later their horses were cantering after the others. It was perhaps four hundred yards to the dunes, but the swifter pace was exhilarating and Anwyn fought the temptation to let the horse out to a gallop. It felt so good to ride out again without constraint, to feel the wind in her face, to feel almost free.
When at length they pulled up she found herself laughing, her spirit lighter than it had been earlier. She leaned forwards and patted the horse’s neck. Eyvind eyed her hopefully.
‘Can we ride along the shore, Mother?’
She knew he was thinking of another canter along the strand, but she had not the heart to refuse. Besides, she had no mind to return just yet either. ‘Why not?’
They rode single file through the dunes, letting the horses pick their way, and came at last to the bay beyond. Ina and Eyvind stopped abruptly.
‘Mother, look!’
Anwyn followed the line of his pointing finger and stared in her turn, her startled gaze taking in the ship drawn up on the beach and before it the massed host of the crew. There had to be seventy of them at least.
‘A warship,’ said Ina.
Uneasiness replaced her earlier mood. ‘But why would it put in here?’
‘At a guess it’s been damaged. See the sail spread out there?’
She nodded. ‘That would certainly explain their presence.’
Looking more closely, she surveyed the crew. Though they were apparently giving their whole attention to the sail and yard that lay on the sand, she noted that all of them were armed with sword or axe and that shields and spears were within easy reach. She wasn’t the only one to mark it.
‘Professionals definitely,’ said Ina.
‘But apparently not aggressors,’ she replied.
‘No. They’re coming now.’ He nodded towards the force that had just appeared on the far side of the bay.
Anwyn frowned. ‘Who on earth…?’
‘Ingvar’s war band, my lady.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Quite sure. That’s Grymar
‘But they have no business here. This bay adjoins my lands.’
‘Which they must have crossed to reach it,’ he replied.
‘How dare he?’
‘Even Grymar would not have presumed so far unless the action had been sanctioned by someone more powerful.’
‘He takes his orders directly from Ingvar.’
‘Just so, my lady.’
The implication was disturbing. Under Ina’s stewardship her late husband’s men patrolled and guarded Drakensburgh, and they had no need of help from Ingvar. The fact that he had taken it upon himself to send an armed force onto her land had ramifications she did not care for. It was as though he were already adopting the mantle of lord protector, a role she had no intention of granting him.
‘This bodes ill,’ she said.
Ina nodded. ‘Where Grymar’s concerned it never bodes anything else. That one would slit his grandmother’s throat for the fun of it.’
‘This must be a show of strength. He cannot seriously intend to fight.’ She hesitated. ‘Can he?’
‘I have a gut feeling that’s exactly what he does intend, my lady.’
Wulfgar watched the war band approaching, mentally estimating their number. His jaw tightened. There must be fifty of them. His own force was larger and he had every faith in their prowess, but any confrontation was likely to be bloody and expensive. However, since the ship was effectively crippled there was no real choice. He glanced at Hermund.
‘Have the men fall in.’
‘Aye, my lord.’
They formed up alongside him, waiting.
‘Let them start it if they must,’ said Wulfgar, ‘but after they have make them regret it.’
The words were greeted with grim smiles as each man there eyed the advancing foe with shrewd, appraising eyes. Fists tightened on shield straps and sword hilts.
Anwyn felt a knot of apprehension form in her stomach. Even from a distance now there was no mistaking what was about to happen. She looked across at Ina.
‘I will not have a blood bath on my land though a dozen Ingvars wished it.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Stop it, of course.’
‘A laudable aim, my lady, but you will have noticed that together they number well over a hundred while we…’
‘Yes, I know. However, this bay abuts onto my land, not theirs.’
‘True, but I don’t quite see…’
‘We have right on our side, Ina.’
‘Oh, well, naturally that makes all the difference.’
‘Exactly.’ Anwyn turned in the saddle. ‘Jodis, stay here and look after Eyvind. Ina, come with me.’
With that she nudged her mount forward and cantered away across the sand. Ina stared after her in disbelief. Then, setting his jaw, he rode off in her wake.
Watching the oncoming force, Hermund frowned. ‘Have we fetched up at a local rallying point by any chance?’
‘Could be.’ Wulfgar followed the line of his gaze. ‘We do seem to have kicked a hornets’ nest, don’t we?’
‘How in the name of the Nidhoggr could Big Mouth have this many friends?’ muttered Thrand.
Beorn shook his head. ‘Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?’
Wulfgar made no reply, mentally estimating the distance between themselves and the advancing warriors. Seventy yards…fifty yards…forty. He watched as the line of their spears shifted from the vertical to the fore.
‘Here we go,’ muttered Hermund.
Beside him, Wulfgar drew his sword. ‘All right, lads—’
He broke off, seeing a blur of movement from the corner of his eye. The blur became a galloping horse. Moments later the rider reined hard and the animal plunged to a halt between the two opposing forces. Almost simultaneously a woman’s voice rang out.
‘Stop this at once! All of you!’
The oncoming warriors stopped in their tracks. All eyes turned towards the speaker. Wulfgar mentally registered a slender figure in a deep blue gown. It was partly concealed by a grey mantle over which a thick red-gold braid flowed like a river of fire. Then she turned in his direction and for a moment he forgot to breathe.
‘Thor’s blood,’ muttered Thrand.
Beorn stared. ‘Am I really seeing what I think I’m seeing?’
‘No, you’re dreaming, Brother.’
‘Don’t wake me then, I beg.’
Wulfgar could understand the thinking, although clearly the woman before him was a living being and not a dream. Before he could pursue the thought she spoke again.
‘There will be no bloodshed here!’
Hermund leaned on his spear and his craggy features split in a broad grin. ‘Well, Frigg alone knows where we are, but it was worth coming just for this.’
Wulfgar’s eyes gleamed and he relaxed the grip on his sword hilt. ‘You never said a truer word, my friend.’ Even as he answered his mind was buzzing. Who was she? Why had she intervened? What manner of woman would dare to come between two opposing war bands? Not only dare to come between, but do it in the expectation of being obeyed? His curiosity mounted.
Ignoring the collective attention focused on her, Anwyn turned to confront Grymar. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
He jerked his head towards the ship’s crew some twenty yards distant. ‘My men and I were about to get rid of these scurvy intruders, my lady.’
‘On whose orders?’
‘Those of Lord Ingvar.’
‘These are my lands,’ she replied. ‘Lord Ingvar has no jurisdiction here.’
Grymar reddened. ‘He desires that we protect you, my lady.’
‘That is most kind of him, but I have my own protection.’ She gestured towards Ina. ‘Your help is not required.’
‘One old man? He couldn’t defend an argument.’
‘Put the matter to the test, oaf, and we’ll see what I can defend,’ growled Ina.
‘I wouldn’t take advantage.’
‘You’d be foolish to try,’ replied Anwyn, ‘especially as there are forty more of my men waiting in the dunes yonder.’
A muscle spasmed Ina’s cheek. However, Grymar missed it, darting a glance to the place she had indicated. The dunes were quiet, the only movement the wind in the marram grass. He regarded her suspiciously.
‘There’s no-one over there.’
Ina raised a grizzled brow. ‘Are you calling my lady a liar?’
Grymar reddened further. ‘I did not say so. I meant only that I cannot see anyone.’
‘That’s because they’re hidden.’
‘Be that as it may, what I am saying is that yonder riff-raff are trespassers.’
‘So are you,’ replied Ina, ‘but if you and your men leave now we’ll overlook it—this time.’
Grymar’s glare was poisonous. ‘Lord Ingvar isn’t going to like this.’
‘Dear me, how awful.’
Anwyn threw Ina a warning glance, knowing she could not afford to make an enemy of Ingvar. He was strong and potentially dangerous. Somehow he had to be kept on side while she made it clear that she would not tolerate this kind of interference in her affairs.
‘Lord Ingvar has always been a good neighbour,’ she replied. ‘He would never have sanctioned such a violation as this.’
Ina nodded. ‘You are right, my lady. It’s my belief that Grymar has acted on his own initiative in an excess of zeal.’
She saw the chance and seized it. ‘Yes, that must be it. His lordship will no doubt be greatly angered when he discovers what has happened.’
Grymar scowled. He knew enough about his master’s ambitions to realise that he would not be pleased by the creation of an open rift with Lady Anwyn. Moreover, it looked now as if all the blame was shifting his way.
‘If I have offended you, my lady, I am sorry for it.’
She favoured him with a haughty stare. ‘You have indeed caused me offence. You will take your men and leave.’
He threw a last look of detestation at her escort and at the ship’s crew, then turned his horse and barked an order to his men. Moments later the whole horde marched away up the beach. As she watched them depart, Anwyn let out the breath she had been holding.
‘Good riddance.’
Ina grimaced. ‘Good riddance indeed, as far as that goes.’
‘They won’t be back’
‘No,’ he replied, ‘they won’t, but that lot are still very much here.’ He jerked his head towards the watching crewmen. ‘And now we have their undivided attention.’
Chapter Three
Anwyn darted a glance at the silent warrior band and felt her heartbeat quicken. For a brief instant she wondered if she had not made a terrible mistake: visions of capture and slavery loomed large. Then resolution reasserted itself. She had come too far to back down now.
Turning her horse, she rode the last few yards towards them. They let her come. What she saw left her in no doubt that Ina was right: they were professionals, bearing themselves with the quiet confidence of men who have nothing to prove. Far from showing any expression of hostility, their faces revealed a very different range of emotions. These covered everything from rapt interest to amusement and frank enjoyment. For some reason it was far more disconcerting than warlike intent could ever have been. Anwyn lifted her chin and took a deep breath. Then, under the gauntlet of their eyes, she sought out the man who led them.
‘Which one of you is chief here?’
From the van of their ranks a man stepped forward. ‘I am.’
For the space of a few heartbeats they surveyed each other in silence. Her gaze took in a lithe and powerful figure clad in a mail shirt worn over leather tunic and breeches. One hand held a fine sword, companion no doubt to the dagger that hung from his belt, and on his left arm he carried a linden-wood shield embossed with iron. The upper part of his face was hidden by the guards of a helmet whose crest bore the likeness of a hunting wolf. Below it she could make out the strong lines of his jaw and mouth. Undisturbed by her scrutiny, he turned and handed the shield to one of his men. Then he removed the helmet and tossed that over, too. As he turned back again, Anwyn’s breath caught in her throat. The face with its chiselled clean-shaven lines was striking for its good looks. A vivid blue gaze met and held hers. In it she saw the same light of amusement she had detected before in his men. Her chin lifted a little higher.
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