The Viking's Touch

by Joanna Fulford

  ‘Are you hoping they’ll all be mellow by then?’ asked Anwyn.

  ‘One can always hope.’ He looked at Ina. ‘Make sure everyone who can be is present at table tonight.’

  ‘As you will, my lord.’

  The old warrior departed then and Jodis took Eyvind off to the bower. Wulfgar watched them go for a moment before turning back to Anwyn.

  ‘Will you be all right?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘A foolish question.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘I regret leaving you like this, but it cannot be avoided.’

  ‘I know. Go and do you what you must. I’ll see you later at table.’

  ‘Aye.’ He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. ‘Until then, Anwyn.’

  She watched him walk away, feeling suddenly bereft, the imprint of his kiss burning her hand.

  Wulfgar’s men heard him in incredulous silence, which evolved into grudging admiration and then amusement.

  ‘I have to say, lord, it’s impressive,’ said Thrand, ‘when you consider how short a time we’ve been here.’

  Asulf nodded. ‘Aye, give us a few pointers, my lord. Then we might all find beautiful and wealthy wives.’

  ‘Wouldn’t make any difference how many pointers you got,’ replied Beorn. ‘A woman’d have to be blind before she’d agree to wed you.’

  A burst of good-natured laughter greeted this.

  ‘So we’re still going to join Rollo, then?’ said Thrand.

  ‘Aye,’ replied Wulfgar. ‘But first there is the matter of Ingvar.’

  Asulf grinned. ‘No worries, my lord. We’ll take care of it. Cut his throat, burn his hall…it’s quite straightforward.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Thrand. ‘While we’re at it we can take care of Grymar Big Mouth as well.’

  A groundswell of agreement followed. Wulfgar held up a hand for quiet.

  ‘Before we do any of those things I want to try peaceful means first.’ Seeing their evident disappointment, he went on, ‘I have given my word on this.’

  ‘Pity,’ said Hermund. ‘Still, once you’ve promised a woman that’s it. Never hear the end of it otherwise.’

  ‘I said I’d try,’ replied Wulfgar. ‘Of course, it may not work.’

  ‘Chances are it won’t. I can’t see Ingvar losing with good grace.’

  ‘In that case I might have to reconsider.’

  His men exchanged wolfish grins. Shortly after this the meeting broke up and they drifted off in smaller groups. Hermund looked at Wulfgar.

  ‘That went off all right.’

  ‘Aye, but it remains to be seen whether the Drakensburgh retainers are quite as accepting.’

  ‘What’s next, then?’

  ‘I want their oaths of fealty. Nothing less will do.’

  Hermund nodded. ‘Most of them have accepted our presence here. Likely the rest will fall into line.’

  ‘Perhaps. At all events keep your wits about you this evening.’

  ‘I will.’

  Despite the limited time available Anwyn had managed to arrange a more splendid repast than usual that evening. The thought had occurred to her, too, that men well fed and plied with several cups of ale might be more amenable to what they were about to hear. Unlike them she ate little for, in truth, her stomach felt knotted.

  She glanced at Wulfgar, but he seemed quite unperturbed. However, it was habitual with him to conceal his thought and she could rarely tell what he was thinking. He drank but sparingly, she noted. Evidently he meant to keep his wits sharp.

  Eventually, when he judged the time was right, he pushed back his chair and got to his feet, thumping the table with his fist. Conversation died and all eyes turned towards him in surprise. Anwyn’s hands clenched round the arms of the chair.

  The announcement was received in dumbfounded silence and for the space of a few heartbeats the only sound was of crackling flames in the hearth.

  ‘I hope that we may continue to work together in unity and friendship,’ he continued. ‘Certainly I need good men. Drakensburgh needs good men. As its new lord I will receive oaths of fealty from all those who wish to give them.’

  ‘And what if we don’t?’ Across the room Thorkil rose unsteadily to his feet.

  ‘Then you are free to leave and go where you will,’ said Wulfgar.

  ‘You didn’t waste much time, did you, Viking?’ Thorkil glared at him. ‘But then a wealthy widow is a fine prize, isn’t she?’

  Sigurd, and one or two others, muttered agreement. Anwyn’s eyes sparkled with anger as she stared them down.

  ‘Do not presume to question my decisions, Thorkil. This was my choice, and freely made.’

  ‘Made for a handsome face, more like.’

  With an effort she kept a hold of her temper. ‘Made because Drakensburgh needs a fair and capable man to govern it.’

  ‘He’s a Viking adventurer, no more. Shall such a man be set above us?’

  His nearest companions began to mutter again.

  ‘That he shall,’ replied Wulfgar, ‘when he is the son of an earl. I am the eldest son of Wulfrum Ragnarsson. My birth is the equal of your former master, my skill in battle well proven.’ He surveyed them coolly. ‘And if you remain at Drakensburgh, you will swear fealty to me.’

  A tense silence followed this, but his words had given them pause. Most lowered their eyes. Thorkil looked around uncertainly. Wulfgar’s blue gaze fixed on him.

  ‘One last thing: I shall overlook your swinish manners on this occasion, but if you ever speak to Lady Anwyn like that again I will personally remove your tongue.’ He glanced at Ina. ‘Get the oaf out of here.’

  Ina nodded, looking coldly upon Thorkil. ‘Aye, my lord. I’ll warrant a dunking in the horse trough will help sober him up.’ He spoke quietly to the men nearest him. They crossed the hall and, seizing hold of the protesting offender, dragged him from the room. No-one made any attempt to prevent it.

  ‘Now,’ said Ina, ‘where were we?’

  ‘Tomorrow I shall hear the oaths of those men intending to stay.’ Wulfgar smiled faintly. ‘In the meantime, let the celebration continue.’

  The conversation resumed and men turned again to their cups. Anwyn let out a long breath. It was over and with less dissension than anticipated. She threw a quizzical look at the man beside her.

  ‘Did you mean what you said just now, about removing Thorkil’s tongue?’

  ‘I never make empty threats,’ he replied.

  ‘I think I would not like to be your enemy.’

  ‘You are not my enemy, Anwyn. You are my wife.’

  The word sent a frisson down the length of her spine. She had been so preoccupied with breaking the news of her marriage that the other implications hadn’t really sunk in—until now.

  ‘You did not tell me that you were the son of an earl.’

  ‘You did not ask,’ he replied.

  Suddenly it became clear how little she really knew about this man. He aroused her curiosity as no other ever had, but would they be together long enough for her to discover the answers?

  As the hour advanced and the noise in the hall grew loud, Anwyn rose to take her leave. Wulfgar rose with her. She turned to say something, but the words never materialised as, without warning, she was seized by the waist and lifted into his arms. He strode with her towards the door to the sound of accompanying laughter and cheers. Good-natured ribaldry followed them out into the night. Anwyn struggled ineffectually, her heart hammering in her breast. All too soon they reached the door of the bower. Having carried her inside, he heeled it shut behind them and, setting his burden down, barred it securely. Then, taking hold of her wrist, he led the way to the chamber he had visited once before. He drew her in with him and then pulled the screening curtain across the entranceway.

  For a moment or two husband and wife faced each other in heart-thumping silence. Wulfgar smiled wryly.

  ‘I apologise for the rough-and-ready nature of our departure back there, but I needed to make it conv
incing.’

  Anwyn stared at him. ‘Convincing? I think it was certainly that.’

  ‘Good. They would not understand else.’

  ‘Understand what?’

  ‘If I had let you leave alone.’

  ‘No. I suppose not.’

  He paused, surveying her steadily. ‘It will be necessary for us to share this chamber tonight.’

  The fluttering sensation in her stomach intensified. ‘Did we not have an agreement?’

  ‘We still do. I’ll not take anything that isn’t freely given.’

  For a moment she wasn’t sure she had heard him aright and then, as the meaning filtered through, that he meant it.

  ‘You don’t believe me,’ he said.

  ‘It is outside my experience that a man should consider my wishes in the matter.’

  He smiled rather ruefully. ‘Have no fear, Anwyn. Your wishes shall be respected.’

  Some of the tension went out of her. Wulfgar looked around and his gaze came to rest on the bed.

  ‘Which side do you like to sleep on?’

  The question took her aback. ‘I…er, the right.’

  He nodded and began to undress. She watched him unfasten his belt and then peel off tunic and shirt to reveal the powerful torso beneath. The lamplight gleamed softly on the silver arm rings that partly concealed the pale lines of old scars. More were visible across his ribs and chest where a line of dark hair led the eye to a tapering waist and long, hard-muscled legs. As he reached for the fastenings of his breeches Anwyn turned away.

  A short time later she heard the bed creak beneath his weight and then the faint rustling sound of the coverlet as he settled himself. She drew a sharp breath and began to unfasten her girdle.

  Wulfgar propped himself comfortably against the bolster, surveying the proceedings on the other side of the room. He saw her lay the gown carefully across the wooden chest nearby. Moments later it was joined by the undertunic. Then only the linen shift remained. The fabric was fine, suggesting the lines and curves concealed beneath. Shorter than the other garments, it also afforded an agreeable view of lower leg and slender ankle, one that he was unashamedly making the most of. He wondered if she would unfasten her hair, but it seemed that was not her intention. To his intense disappointment she crossed to the lamp and doused the flame. The room was plunged in darkness. Moments later he felt the mattress shift as she slid into bed. There followed a small movement as she turned on her side and drew the covers closer. Then there was silence. Wulfrum smiled wryly.

  ‘Good night, Anwyn.’

  ‘Good night, my lord.’

  Anwyn closed her eyes, listening intently, her body tense and waiting. For all his earlier assurances she could not believe that he meant to keep his word. It had all sounded so easy when first the scheme was hatched: a marriage in name only; two people who would inhabit different rooms at night. She had overlooked the obvious, the need to create an effective illusion in the minds of others. Wulfgar had not. Her cheeks grew hot when she thought just how convincing his behaviour had been that evening. None witnessing it could doubt his intention. After all, he was her husband. It was his right to take her whenever he wished. No man there but thought he would prosecute that right. Anwyn grew hot. If he so chose, there would be nothing she could do to prevent it. He was big and frighteningly strong.

  Just for a moment her mind went down that route; the result set her flesh tingling. She knew then that if he reached for her she would not try to prevent it; that some part of her wanted him to. She swallowed hard. It was madness to think like that. This was a business arrangement, nothing more. He had already told her that he could not give his heart, that he would not stay for ever. If she let desire rule her head now, the consequences would be dire; her heart already told her that this man had the power to hurt her badly, and in ways that Torstein never could.

  More minutes dragged by, but still nothing happened, and presently her straining ears caught the sound of slow, regular breathing. Some of her tension faded. He had meant what he said. She ought to have been relieved, but the feeling now was more akin to sadness.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When she awoke the following morning it was to see that the space beside her was empty. Automatically she reached out and touched the place where he had lain, but the sheet was cool. He had been gone some time then. Of course, there had been no reason for him to stay. Anwyn sighed. Climbing out of bed, she bathed her face and hands and then began to prepare herself to meet the day.

  Having dressed and arranged her hair, she went to check on Eyvind. He was playing with the wooden horse that Ina had carved for him. He looked up and smiled as she entered and then resumed his game. She had a few words with Jodis and then went to the hall to check on the servants. However, cleaning up was well underway by the time she arrived and the trestles neatly stacked along the walls. Anwyn summoned one of the men.

  ‘Do you know where Lord Wulfgar may be found?’

  ‘No, my lady. He rode out this morning with a dozen men. I have not seen him since.’

  ‘No matter.’ Anwyn turned away. Wulfgar had said nothing to her of his intentions, but then she had been asleep when he left. Feeling a little discomfited, she put the matter from her mind and turned her attention to the various household tasks awaiting her attention.

  Wulfgar signalled to his escort and then reined in before the gates of Ingvar’s fortress at Beranhold, his practised eye taking in the details of the ditch and palisade that formed the outer defences. Moments later the guard’s challenge rang out.

  ‘Tell your master that Lord Wulfgar desires speech with him. I will await him here.’

  As the man disappeared from view Hermund looked at his companion.

  ‘He may refuse to talk.’

  ‘No, he won’t,’ replied Wulfgar.

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Curiosity will get the better of him.’

  It seemed he was right because a short time later the gate swung open to allow egress for a group of horsemen. At their head was Ingvar. He was flanked by Grymar and half-a-dozen others. They rode unhurriedly towards Wulfgar, pulling up close by. For a space the two men surveyed each other in silence before Ingvar spoke.

  ‘My guard said that you desired speech with me.’

  ‘Aye,’ replied Wulfgar. ‘So I do.’

  Ingvar smiled. ‘I am intrigued.’

  ‘I’ll make this short. Yesterday Lady Anwyn did me the honour of becoming my wife.’

  The smile faded and Ingvar’s eyes narrowed. ‘What treachery is this?’

  ‘No treachery, but a decision taken of her own free will.’

  ‘A likely tale.’

  ‘I speak the truth.’

  ‘Nay, you used your wiles to gain entrance to Drakensburgh and then seized control.’

  Wulfgar surveyed him coolly. ‘You judge others by your own standards. I used no wiles here. I had no need of them.’

  ‘He speaks true.’ Ina nudged his horse forwards. ‘Lady Anwyn married of her own free will.’

  Ingvar’s gold-brown eyes glinted, but it was clear the old warrior’s words had struck home. ‘Is it so indeed?’

  ‘It is so. Lord Wulfgar is master of Drakensburgh now.’

  ‘You move quickly, my lord,’ said Ingvar. ‘But then the prize was great.’

  ‘The prize is mine,’ replied Wulfgar, ‘and I mean to keep it.’ His gaze flicked to Grymar. ‘Any more un-neighbourly behaviour will find an un-neighbourly response.’

  Grymar glared, his hand moving to his sword hilt. Ingvar checked him with one upraised hand.

  ‘I have never sought enmity with Drakensburgh. I do not seek it now.’

  Wulfgar nodded. ‘Then we understand one another.’

  ‘I believe we do. I only hope that Lady Anwyn does not come to regret her decision.’

  ‘I shall give her no cause to regret it,’ said Wulfgar.

  Ingvar’s lips curled. ‘We’ll see, won’t we?’

 
; With that he turned his horse’s head and, barking an order to his escort, rode away. The others watched them go.

  ‘Nasty piece of work,’ said Hermund. ‘Still, he knows where he stands now.’

  ‘He knows,’ replied Wulfgar.

  ‘Did you believe him, about not wanting trouble?’

  ‘No, but the case is altered and he knows it.’

  ‘Then perhaps he’ll back off and accept defeat.’

  ‘If he’s wise, he will.’

  It was perhaps an hour later when they returned. On leaving his men Wulfgar went in search of Anwyn. He found her in the hall, speaking to one of the servants. Hearing his approach, she looked round and he saw her smile. She dismissed the servant and came forwards to meet him.

  ‘Did you enjoy your ride, my lord?’

  He returned the smile. ‘Not especially, but it was necessary or, believe me, I would not have gone.’

  The implication brought a faint tinge of colour to her face. He thought it became her well.

  ‘I went to see Ingvar,’ he continued.

  ‘Then he knows now. I will not ask how he took it.’

  ‘Do you care?’

  ‘Only in so far as his anger may affect Drakensburgh,’ she replied.

  ‘It will not—now.’

  Her eyes widened slightly. ‘Wulfgar, you did not—’

  ‘Kill him? No.’

  She breathed a sigh of relief. He saw it.

  ‘Would you have cared if I had?’

  ‘Yes, but not for the reason you suppose.’ Her hand came to rest on his sleeve. ‘I would not have our marriage vows sealed in blood.’

  His gaze met and held hers, but found only sincerity there. It warmed him, like the touch of her hand on his arm.

  ‘Then I am glad I resisted the temptation,’ he said.

  ‘So, what now, my lord?’

  ‘I will hear the men give their oaths of fealty.’ He smiled down at her. ‘After that I am at your disposal.’

  Having summoned the men to the mead hall, he seated himself in the great carved chair that was the symbol of the lord’s power. Anwyn, sitting beside him, thought he looked as if he had been born to the role. His was a commanding figure in every sense of the word, a strong physical presence who carried with him an aura of authority—a man whom other men would follow. A man to draw a woman’s eye and hold it. She pulled herself up firmly at that; no woman would ever hold him for long.