‘Odin’s blood, I want you, Anwyn, but I fear I cannot be gentle.’
For answer she drew his face down to hers and kissed him, a long and passionate kiss that tasted of honey. Her tongue teased his, seductively probing. Seconds later her skirts were round her waist. What followed was not gentle, but a hot, fierce coupling that made her cry out and sent shock waves of pleasure crashing through the length of her body. Gasping, she arched against him, reaching for him. Wulfgar pushed her down, clamping her wrists to the bed. She writhed beneath him, but he held her fast, riding her hard, until with a cry of triumph he reached his own shuddering climax. Then, chest heaving, he collapsed beside her.
Anwyn turned her head to look at him, temporarily speechless. She had thought that his earlier lovemaking was the sum of all pleasure. Now the error of that assumption was all too apparent. The implications sent a thrill of anticipation through her entire being.
‘That was incredible,’ she said then.
‘It’s called post-battle lust.’
‘Worth waiting for again,’ she replied.
Wulfgar smiled and brushed her lips with his. Then he began to remove her gown. ‘It isn’t finished yet, my sweet. Not by a long way.’
Chapter Eighteen
The following morning Wulfgar had the prisoner brought before him. Sigurd darted nervous glances at the warriors gathered around, clearly expecting the worst.
‘What do you want us to do with him, my lord?’ asked Hermund.
‘Fetch a horse,’ said Wulfgar, ‘and tie him on. Then send him back to Ingvar. I’m sure his master will be pleased to see him. He may wish to question him about the reasons for his recent rout at our hands.’
His men grinned appreciatively. Sigurd’s face registered panic and he began to resist the hands dragging him towards the waiting horse.
‘I’m only sorry I won’t be there to witness that interview,’ said Hermund. ‘Frodi, you and Dag see he gets safely back.’
‘It’ll be a pleasure,’ replied Frodi.
When Sigurd was securely tied to the horse and the trio was ready to depart, Asulf raised a hand in farewell.
‘Be sure to remember us to Ingvar, won’t you?’
The response was a brief look of fury and loathing before the horse and prisoner were led away.
The aftermath of battle had left much work to be done. Wulfgar’s next task was to organise a burial detail for the slain who, with the exception of three men, were exclusively Ingvar’s warriors.
‘If the fight had been out in the fields somewhere, I’d be tempted to leave the bodies to the foxes and the crows,’ said Hermund.
‘So would I,’ replied Wulfgar, ‘but as it is we dare not, lest the stink and corruption breed a pestilence.’
‘You’re right, of course, though the swine are little deserving of the honour.’ Hermund glanced at the heap of weapons and mail taken from the bodies of the dead. ‘At least their war gear will go to arm our own men now.’
Thrand, who had been examining the corpses closely, gave it up and came to join them, his expression suggestive of disappointment. ‘Grymar Big Mouth isn’t here, my lord. He must have fled into the wood with the others.’
‘More than likely,’ replied Wulfgar. ‘The man is a survivor if ever I saw one.’
Thrand sighed. ‘Ah, well. I’ll find the cur one day.’
‘In the meantime we’ve got more important things to think about,’ said Hermund. ‘Let’s start by getting this carrion into the ground.’
‘When it’s cooled down enough we’ll set some men to clearing the fire debris,’ said Wulfgar. ‘The rebuilding should start as soon as may be. These folk have lost enough.’
‘Could have been worse, my lord; could have been the depths of winter.’
‘So it could. Even so, with the lean months coming on people can ill afford to lose their homes as well.’
‘Looks like we’re all going to be busy for a while, then,’ said Hermund.
‘We’ll get as many men on the job as we can. I want this place rebuilt by the full of the next moon.’
Wulfgar informed Anwyn of his intention later. She wanted to ride out with him at once and inspect the damage for herself, but he would not allow it until the slain had been buried.
‘It is not a sight for a woman’s eyes.’
‘Yet those men died in a woman’s cause,’ she replied.
‘They were warriors. They knew the realities of battle. You do not; nor do I intend that you shall.’
Though the words were quietly spoken, they held an inflexion that she was coming to recognise. He would not be swayed. Anwyn abandoned further argument, reflecting that he probably had a point.
‘When the burial is done we will ride out together,’ he went on.
She lowered her eyes. ‘Yes, my lord.’
Wulfgar’s lips twitched. ‘This wifely obedience is most pleasing.’
At once her gaze locked with his, flashing emerald fire. He chuckled softly. ‘I thought as much.’
For a moment she continued to glare at him but, unable to keep it up, smiled ruefully. ‘Would you wish me to be different?’
He put his arms around her and drew her close. ‘Not by as much as a hair.’
In fact, Wulfgar was as good as his word and the following day he rode with her to the ruined hamlet. Where people’s homes had once stood there now remained only blackened heaps of ash from which drifted wisps of smoke, its acrid stench still strong in the air. Six of the original eight houses had been razed. The sight of that wanton destruction caused Anwyn a sharp pang that was closely followed by anger. Her gaze went from the ruins to the silent knot of villagers standing nearby and her heart went out to them. The best that she could do was to offer assurance that their homes would be rebuilt.
‘I’ll get the matter in train at once,’ said Wulfgar. ‘If everyone pulls together it won’t take so long.’
The villagers heard his words with evident surprise, but also with the first faint glimmer of optimism. Anwyn saw it and was glad. They had lost much, but not their lives at least.
Although the dead had been removed, large patches of earth were yet stained dark with their blood. Walking around the site now offered her an insight into the ferocity of the fighting, and she understood why Wulfgar had wanted to shield her from it. Just then, however, she would gladly have run Ingvar through herself, and said as much.
‘I imagine you would at that,’ replied Wulfgar.
‘At least the villagers were spared his wrath.’
He nodded. ‘Ingvar would have slaughtered them without a qualm.’
‘This is what you really meant, isn’t it, when you said that things would get dirty?’
‘Aye, although in this case we got off lightly. Forewarned is forearmed.’
Anwyn looked around. ‘How long will it take to rebuild these dwellings?’
‘Not long. We have the materials to hand and plenty of able men for the work.’
‘Good.’ Involuntarily her gaze went to the wood some hundred yards distant. Its far edge marked the boundary between Drakensburgh and Beranhold lands; a proximity brought forcefully home now.
Wulfgar had little trouble reading her thoughts. ‘He won’t try it again, unless he’s a complete fool.’
‘He is no fool, but he is ruthless and vindictive.’
‘That is why I must take my men and finish what we began.’
Her eyes widened a little. ‘You mean you would go and seek him out?’
‘I mean that I would seek him out and slay him, along with the remnant of his war band, and burn his fortress to the ground. Then I would amalgamate the Beranhold lands with those of Drakensburgh.’
‘You intend to seize his lands?’
‘It is the only certain way to secure the future.’
A knot of dread formed in the pit of her stomach as the real ramifications of the affair sank in. ‘This was not part of my plan, Wulfgar. Besides, I would not have more blood spilled.’
‘We have come this far and there can be no going back.’
‘In this case we did but defend what was ours.’
‘If we stop now, it will be taken as weakness,’ he replied. ‘Ingvar has offered gross provocation. The insult cannot be forgotten or forgiven.’
The blue eyes held no trace of gentleness now, only cold and deadly anger. The expression sent a shudder down her spine. Suddenly she had the sensation of things unravelling, of moving inexorably out of her control into realms beyond imagining.
‘You said he would not make the same mistake again.’
‘That doesn’t mean he won’t try something else. The time to strike is now, while he’s at his weakest.’
She paled. ‘I want peace, Wulfgar.’
‘Peace has many forms. Some of them are only found on the far side of war.’
‘We had an agreement, you and I.’
‘So we did,’ he replied. ‘I said I would do nothing without telling you of my intention first.’
‘Then you are resolved on this?’ Anwyn swallowed hard. ‘I beg you to reconsider.’
‘I am responsible for the security of Drakensburgh and I do not want to be for ever looking over my shoulder.’ He paused. ‘Make no mistake, Anwyn, that’s what we will be doing from now on if Ingvar is allowed to live.’
‘How many more men must die with him?’
He met her eye unflinchingly. ‘As many as it takes.’
The knot in her stomach tightened. ‘You among them, Wulfgar?’
‘No. Ingvar isn’t good enough.’
‘I cannot agree to this.’
‘That is unfortunate.’
Her heart thumped against her ribs. ‘I will not agree, and I am still the Lady of Drakensburgh.’
‘But I am its lord—and yours, too, Anwyn.’
Her gaze smouldered. ‘Aye, and a fitting successor to Torstein.’
With that she turned on heel. Taken by surprise, Wulfgar called after her. She ignored him, hurrying on, tears of rage running unheeded down her face. She had no idea where she was going. Her only desire was to put distance between them. Beneath anger was a deeper, sharper pain born of confusion. She had trusted him… Too late she saw the extent of his ambition.
Her progress was halted abruptly by a large hand closing round her arm. Wulfgar swung her round to face him, his eyes burning into hers.
‘Perhaps you’d care to explain that last remark.’
‘I should have thought it self-explanatory,’ she retorted.
‘I don’t care for the imputation.’
‘Why? Did it hit a nerve, Wulfgar?’
‘You know it did. Is that really your opinion of me?’
‘What do you care for my opinion? You’ll still be Lord of Drakensburgh and Beranhold, too.’
He paled. ‘Is that what you think this is about?’
Anwyn struggled ineffectually to free herself. ‘What else is there to think?’
‘My concern is not with lordship or with wielding power over you,’ he growled. ‘It is with your safety and that of your son.’ The blue gaze bored into hers. ‘Can you get that into your hot little head?’
Her throat tightened and to her horror tears welled and then spilled over. Completely overwrought, she began to sob.
Wulfgar was appalled, his anger evaporating as quickly as it had risen. He let out a long breath and drew her to his breast. ‘Hush, sweet. Don’t cry. It’s all right.’
It was a little while before the sobs subsided and she regained a measure of control. ‘I’m sorry, Wulfgar.’ She took a ragged breath, wiping away tears with the sleeve of her gown. ‘What I said before, about you and Torstein; I didn’t mean it.’
‘I know.’
‘It was just my wretched temper.’
‘Well, it is a fault I share.’ He drew back a little, looking into her face. ‘Since you so dislike my plan to depose Ingvar I shall relinquish it, albeit against my better judgement.’ He paused. ‘I have no wish to be the cause of tears from you, Anwyn.’
She managed a rather watery smile. ‘I am glad of it, although the tears were not intended as a weapon to dissuade you.’
‘If I had thought so, my sweet, they could not have succeeded.’
‘I think your heart is not as hard as you pretend.’
‘Where my heart is concerned I never pretend.’
‘I wish with all of mine that you didn’t have to leave Drakensburgh.’ Seeing him about to speak, she hurried on. ‘Forgive me. I shouldn’t have said that. I know that you must. You warned me at the outset, did you not?’
‘I also warned you that I wasn’t good husband material.’
‘I have no complaint to make.’
‘And yet I cannot be the husband you want me to be, Anwyn, any more than I was for Freya.’
‘What happened to Freya was not your fault.’
His face was suddenly devoid of expression. ‘You speak of what you do not know.’
‘I know you were not responsible for the fever epidemic. You told me before that it killed hundreds. Your being there would not have changed anything, except perhaps by adding your death to theirs.’
‘You don’t know how often I have wished for that.’
‘It would not bring them back.’
‘I’m well aware of it.’
‘Then perhaps it’s time to forgive yourself, Wulfgar.’
He kept his voice level. ‘When I want an opinion on the matter I’ll ask for it.’
‘I did not mean to be presumptuous.’
‘Then don’t tell me what I should do.’
‘I didn’t mean it like that. I only—’
‘Leave it, Anwyn. It’s over and done with.’
Her gaze locked with his. ‘Is it?’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Until you face the past you cannot move on.’
‘I said leave it.’
There followed a strained silence. Wulfgar took a deep breath, mentally counting to ten. He had spoken more harshly than he’d intended, but then he’d been caught off guard, something that Anwyn was confoundedly good at doing. He didn’t want to quarrel, but neither was he going to the place she wanted him to revisit. Even more disturbing was her growing attachment for him. When he had embarked on this relationship he had never anticipated that it would become more than the marriage of convenience she had described. Yet somehow it had happened anyway. Nor was the attachment all on her side. If he stayed longer, it would just make things worse. It was a mess, and that fact only pointed out the truth of what he had told her at the start.
‘Have you seen enough here?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Then I’ll escort you home.’
They walked back towards the waiting horses, but neither one spoke. Once she glanced at his face, but its expression was closed to her. Only a few inches separated them, but it seemed to Anwyn that the distance between them had widened to a yawning gap.
Chapter Nineteen
Although he would have liked to forget it, the conversation stayed with Wulfgar in the days that followed. He was not the husband Anwyn needed and deserved, but he could at least provide her with security of another kind. When he left Drakensburgh it would be in the knowledge that she was safe with a strong defensive force at her disposal. The new recruits, having been bloodied in combat, had grown in confidence, and their commitment and determination increased in proportion.
‘They’re shaping up well,’ said Hermund, as he and Wulfgar stood watching the latest training session from the sidelines.
‘Aye, they are. They’ll be quite capable of defending the place when we leave.’
‘Have you decided when that might be? Only some of the men were asking.’
Wulfgar nodded. ‘It’s a fair question. I’ll think on it.’
In truth, there was no reason why the Sea Wolf could not sail in the near future. Leaving Anwyn and Eyvind was going to be a wrench, but the longer he stayed the worse it
would be. Better for all concerned if he made it sooner rather than later. Besides, he had an obligation to his men, and business with Rollo awaited. He must speak to Anwyn and tell her what was afoot. He owed her that much. All the same it wasn’t something he relished doing. Not because he thought she would create a scene, but because he knew that what he had to impart would hurt her. It was becoming a bad habit.
The matter weighed on his mind. For a while work enabled him to forget about it, but in his leisure moments it returned to haunt him. Anwyn was the first to notice his preoccupation. Although he remained attentive and continued to treat her with gentleness, he seemed somehow to have withdrawn from her. At first she wondered whether it had something to do with their earlier disagreement, but he had never adverted to it in any way afterwards. His mood puzzled her, and with that came a feeling of uneasiness. Unwilling to tax him with it, she hoped it was merely a phase that would pass.
On several occasions she rode out with him to inspect the progress of the rebuilding work. It was coming along apace.
‘The new dwellings will be ready as planned by the end of the month,’ he said.
She nodded and smiled, but those last few words put her in mind of something else—a half-buried hope that she had not given utterance. Her last flux had not come. After Torstein’s death she had abandoned the precautions she had taken to avoid conception; she had had no need of them. However, neither had she resumed them following her marriage to Wulfgar. It hadn’t been a deliberate decision as such; it was more that the fierce desire to prevent another pregnancy was absent and she had let the matter drift. Indeed, until recently, she had forgotten about it. Had Wulfgar’s seed taken root in her? Being unsure as yet she had not mentioned the possibility to him. Now, with this strange mood upon him, she wondered what his reaction might be. Their original business arrangement had become something that neither of them had intended and yet, perversely, both of them had desired. On her part desire had subsequently blossomed into a far stronger emotion. On his part…she did not know. Despite his kindness, he had never actually said that he loved her. The knowledge brought a twinge of sadness.
The Viking's Touch Page 19