The Viking's Touch

by Joanna Fulford

  ‘So it does, my lord.’

  ‘You need have no fear that I shall fail in my duty.’

  ‘Oh, I do not fear that.’

  With this cryptic remark Ina took his leave and followed the child indoors. Wulfgar watched him go, feeling unaccountably disquieted. A man she might learn to love? What man? It couldn’t be Ingvar. Was there another local admirer he didn’t know about? His frown deepened.

  However, there were other matters requiring his attention now. To begin with there was the question of the extra patrols. He went to find Hermund and told him his mind on the matter.

  ‘It’s a good idea. I’ll organise it, my lord.’

  ‘Patrols will go out day and night, effective immediately. I’ve been caught napping once, but it’s the last time.’

  ‘You could not have foreseen such a trick.’

  ‘Well, Ingvar’s given sufficient warning now so I reckon we can expect more such tricks,’ said Wulfgar. ‘All the same, we can make it difficult for him.’

  ‘That we can. The men will enjoy it; give them more to do.’ Hermund paused. ‘And if we catch anyone?’

  ‘Send his head back to Ingvar.’

  ‘Right. This underhand connivance is unworthy of warriors. Let him bring his force and face us man to man.’

  ‘It is my thought he will not do it. He will try to achieve his ends by other means.’

  Hermund nodded. ‘When you consider the prize it’s clear he won’t give up easily.’

  ‘No, he won’t,’ said Wulfgar.

  At table that evening he told Anwyn about the arrangements he had made earlier. She listened with quiet approval.

  ‘When will these new patrols begin?’

  ‘They already have.’

  ‘You don’t let the grass grow under your feet, do you?’

  ‘If I’d done that, I’d have been dead long since.’

  She smiled. ‘A mercenary’s life requires vigilance, then?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And yet you enjoy the life.’

  ‘It has its advantages.’

  ‘And its disadvantages, too,’ she replied. ‘Each fight may be your last.’

  ‘It is a risk one takes.’

  ‘Does the thought not disturb you?’

  ‘No, why should it? The thread of a man’s life is cut as the Nornir decide—what use to worry when?’

  ‘No use at all, but it might be wiser not to tempt them.’

  ‘I have tempted them often,’ he said, ‘but they have shown no interest. On the contrary, I have had great luck; much more than I have deserved.’

  She heard the note of bitterness in his voice and guessed its origin. ‘If you have been thus favoured, then it was not your time to die. Perhaps there is more for you to do in this world before you go to the next.’

  ‘A purpose for which I was intended?’ He shook his head. ‘There is no purpose, Anwyn. We are born, we fight and then we die.’

  ‘Is fighting the be all and end all?’

  ‘If a man fights, he suffers less than those who do not. That is the way of the world.’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘That is a sombre view of life.’

  ‘It is an accurate view of life.’

  ‘Yet you did not always think so.’

  ‘No, but I’ve learned better now. I will fight whatever battles come, and one day I will meet the warrior whose sword arm is stronger than mine.’

  ‘Your death will not change the past, Wulfgar.’

  Her words were softly spoken, but they caught him unawares and their accuracy pierced like a honed blade. His hand tightened round his cup and all trace of former ironic detachment vanished along with the gentleness in his eyes. What replaced it was bleakness and anger, the latter directed towards himself. The odds he chose to fight should have killed him fifty times over; instead he grew rich and his fame spread. He could almost hear the gods laughing.

  Seeing the look in his eyes just then, Anwyn felt an inner tremor, glimpsing the mercenary in those icy-blue depths. However, he made no reply and for a little while they lapsed into silence. She threw him a swift sideways glance and decided it was time to change the subject.

  ‘Do your men care to hunt, my lord?’

  ‘Of course. Why?’

  ‘It’s just that we could do with some fresh meat and there are boars aplenty in the woods.’

  ‘I’ll see to it.’

  Anwyn hesitated, regarding him speculatively. ‘I wondered if I might go along.’

  ‘Certainly not.’ As soon as he’d said it, Wulfgar could have kicked himself. Even to his ears it had sounded arrogant and high-handed. Nor did he miss the way she suddenly stiffened or the expression of resentment on her face. He drew a deep breath and, having hastily re-established the connection between his brain and his mouth, he hurried on. ‘Forgive me. That was not the arbitrary decision it may have seemed. What I meant was that it’s too dangerous at present. The woods do not only conceal boar, as we have recent proof. You would be an easy target there.’

  Some of her resentment faded and was replaced by disappointment. ‘Oh, yes, I see.’

  Wulfgar seized his chance. ‘But perhaps you might care to go hawking instead. Out in open country an enemy can be seen from afar, and thus easily dealt with. And you could enjoy some fresh air and some decent sport.’

  The green eyes lightened. ‘I’d like that.’

  ‘So be it. We’ll go tomorrow if you wish.’

  ‘Oh, yes. That would be wonderful.’

  In that moment all her customary reserve fell away and her face lit with a smile that caused his heartbeat to accelerate dangerously. It occurred to him again that she had the most kissable mouth he had ever seen. The memory immediately aroused desire. With an effort he controlled it.

  ‘Of course, I’ll have to beg the loan of a falcon,’ he said.

  ‘My late husband had many. I am sure we can find something to please you, my lord.’

  Wulfgar was quite sure of it. Having already discovered the mews in his exploration of Drakensburgh, he could only applaud Torstein’s taste in that as well. However, he wasn’t about to lose the advantage now, and steered the conversation to the safe haven of falconry. Anwyn proved surprisingly knowledgeable and, having relaxed, opened up again, speaking without reserve, listening, asking questions.

  ‘Where did you learn all this?’ he asked.

  ‘My father and brothers were enthusiasts and taught me much. Torstein, too, was accomplished in the sport.’ She paused. ‘Of course, he did not invite me to accompany him very often.’

  Wulfgar could well believe it, but forbore to make the comment that came instantly to mind. Torstein might have known a lot about hawks, but in other ways the man was an idiot. And only another idiot would make the same mistakes. Thus he kept the conversation away from the personal, drawing her out on other subjects.

  The hour grew late but for once Anwyn seemed not to notice. Nor did she seem inclined to leave. Wulfgar didn’t dare to hope she was softening towards him, although tonight she seemed to be enjoying his company more. It was a start at least. He had never worked as hard to win a woman in his life, but then she provided the kind of challenge that a man rarely encountered. Circumstances dictated that theirs could only ever be a brief liaison; but for all that he wanted her more than any woman he had ever met.

  The following day dawned fair and they set out early, accompanied by half-a-dozen men. Out in the open air, Anwyn’s spirit lifted and she found herself smiling for no apparent reason. It felt good just to be alive on such a day. All thoughts of Ingvar receded. Today she was in the company she would most have sought.

  Involuntarily her gaze went to Wulfgar, currently stroking the breast feathers of a magnificent gyrfalcon. His hand was firm and strong, but infinitely gentle. He would touch a woman like that, she thought. It brought back the memory she had tried so hard to bury and sent a wave of painful longing through her entire being. As though sensing himself watched, he glanced
up and met her eye. She saw him smile, the familiar easy smile that caused her heart to miss a beat.

  One of the men called out and she glanced up, following the line of his pointing finger, and saw the pigeon. Sensing danger, it beat hard, winging fast towards the cover of distant trees. Wulfgar removed the hood from the gyrfalcon’s eyes and loosed the jesses. Then he spoke softly and cast her off. The raptor climbed, her powerful wings gaining her height with every beat while her golden eyes located their prey. As she mounted, her wingtips felt the edges of a warm air current and she glided effortlessly, her gaze locked on the quarry below. Then she stooped, arrowing downwards in deadly free fall. Anwyn held her breath. A sharp cry and a puff of feather announced the strike. Great talons bore the prey back to earth. Wulfgar whistled and swung the lure, summoning the gyrfalcon back to his wrist, leaving one of the accompanying retainers to retrieve the pigeon.

  ‘A fine kill,’ said Anwyn.

  ‘Aye, it was.’ He smiled at her. ‘However, the next bird we flush is yours.’

  By the end of the morning the bag was impressive. They tethered the horses then and, moving a little apart from their companions, spread their cloaks on the grass before settling down to eat an improvised meal of bread and cheese and cold meat. Anwyn ate hungrily for the fresh air and exercise had given her an appetite. It had also brought colour into her cheeks and put a sparkle in her eyes. Strands of hair had escaped her braid and formed an artless halo round her face. The effect was unwittingly seductive.

  Wulfgar eyed the ribbon that fastened the rest. He was sorely tempted to pull it loose and free the glorious wilful mass it bound. His imagination ran ahead of him. If he did, what would be her response? He smiled ruefully to himself. Had they been alone… Unfortunately they were not. It was probably just as well, he decided. He wasn’t at all sure he could have stopped at just unfastening her hair.

  Unaware of his train of thought, Anwyn finished her food and brushed the crumbs from her skirt. Then she got to her feet.

  ‘There’s a stream over yonder. I’m going to get a drink.’

  ‘Not on your own, you’re not,’ he replied.

  She looked around, but the landscape was quiet, drowsing beneath the warm spring sunshine. ‘There’s no danger near.’

  ‘Even so.’

  It was a tone she had come to recognise and it signified that he wasn’t going to be deflected from his purpose. This insistence on staying close should have annoyed her, but it didn’t. She schooled her face into what she hoped was an expression of unconcern.

  ‘As you will.’

  They strolled together across the grass. Neither one spoke and, although the silence was companionable, it was also highly charged. With every pace she was more aware of the tall, lithe figure beside her, of his quiet strength and the aura of power he wore so effortlessly.

  It was no more than fifty yards to the stream, a bright clear freshet that flowed towards the distant woods. Anwyn bent and scooped a handful of water. It was cold and delicious. For a moment he watched her, then followed suit. His profile was towards her now and she drank in every detail, memorising every line of him, relearning what was already known so well.

  Apparently unaware of her scrutiny, he slaked his thirst and then straightened slowly. For a moment he surveyed her in silence, then extended a hand. After a brief hesitation she took it. His fingers closed over hers and he drew her gently to her feet. He should have let go then. Instead he lifted her hand to his lips and, turning it over gently, pressed a soft kiss on the palm. It burned like a brand, sending a delicious shiver through her entire being and stirring other, more dangerous recollections.

  Wulfgar smiled at her. ‘Come. We should rejoin the others.’

  Anwyn let out the breath she had unconsciously been holding, her mind registering both relief and something else, too, a feeling that didn’t bear closer inspection.

  They rode back after that, keeping the horses to a leisurely pace, enjoying the sunshine. The men of the escort laughed and joked and talked among themselves about hunting. Anwyn listened and smiled to herself. Wulfgar regarded her keenly.

  ‘Did you enjoy yourself today?’ he asked.

  She nodded. ‘In truth I cannot remember when I last enjoyed myself as much.’

  ‘Good.’ He smiled. ‘We must arrange another such outing, and soon.’

  ‘I’d like that.’

  It probably wasn’t wise, but she didn’t care. Rather she felt as a person might who, having languished for years in a dark place, is suddenly released into the sunlight.

  Chapter Ten

  As they rode in through the gateway Anwyn’s smile faded and, seeing it, Wulfgar immediately followed the line of her gaze to the hall where stood several horses. From the sweat marks on their necks and flanks they had all been ridden hard. A group of men stood nearby. Their clothing identified them immediately as a nobleman and his escort. For a moment he thought Ingvar was back but, hearing the approaching horses, the men turned round and he found himself looking at complete strangers. However, it immediately became clear that Anwyn recognised them.

  ‘Osric,’ she murmured.

  Wulfgar threw her a quizzical glance. ‘Osric?’

  ‘My elder brother.’

  Privately he owned to surprise, but then her expression indicated much the same thing. Along with it he detected a suggestion of uneasiness. His curiosity stirred. They pulled up and dismounted and he watched as Anwyn moved forwards to greet the new arrivals. Foremost among them was a man in his mid-twenties. He was of average height and a slender, wiry build. Facially he bore a resemblance to Anwyn in the high cheekbones and the shape of the mouth, but the likeness stopped there. His hair was a gingery brown shade and his eyes pale blue. These were now subjecting her to a quiet appraisal. However, if she noticed it wasn’t apparent.

  ‘Osric! This is a surprise.’

  She embraced him, saluting him on both cheeks. It was sisterly and correct in every way, but Wulfgar could not see any sign of mutual warmth. Intrigued now, he listened carefully.

  ‘You look very well, Sister. Still in great beauty, I see.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Passing through, on my way north.’

  Wulfgar’s eyebrow lifted a little. If the man was going north he had come a considerable distance out of his way. Either he had a mighty poor sense of direction or he was being disingenuous.

  ‘It is good of you to call upon us,’ replied Anwyn.

  ‘I told you I’d be back.’

  ‘Yes, so you did.’

  He smiled rather awkwardly. ‘I trust that Drakensburgh prospers, Sister.’

  ‘It prospers.’

  ‘These past months must have been hard for you.’

  ‘I have managed well enough,’ she replied. ‘I have good men to help me.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘You haven’t met Lord Wulfgar, have you?’

  ‘No.’ For the first time, Osric became aware of the other man’s presence and surveyed him now with a critical eye.

  ‘Lord Wulfgar is in charge of Drakensburgh’s defensive force,’ Anwyn went on.

  ‘Indeed.’ He favoured Wulfgar with a nod. ‘I’m sure you’re doing a good job.’

  Wulfgar ignored the patronising tone and returned the nod. ‘That is what I am paid for.’

  For a moment Osric seemed taken aback and he threw a quizzical look at Anwyn. She ignored it.

  ‘Well, you must be tired after your long ride, Brother. Perhaps you and your companions would care for some refreshment.’

  ‘Thank you, yes.’

  She looked at Wulfgar. ‘Will you excuse us, please? My brother and I need to talk.’

  He inclined his head in acquiescence and with that she led Osric and his companions within doors. Wulfgar surveyed them thoughtfully. The tension between brother and sister had been almost palpable.

  ‘Not much love lost there, my lord,’ said a voice at his shoulder.

  He glanced round to se
e Asulf, who had approached unnoticed. ‘Apparently not.’

  ‘Might not be a barrel of laughs at table tonight, then.’

  ‘I seriously doubt it.’

  Having provided her guests with ale, Anwyn took her brother aside. ‘Now, tell me what you’re really doing here, Osric.’

  ‘I told you. We’re just—’

  ‘Passing through? Hardly.’

  He eyed her curiously. ‘You’ve changed since I saw you last, Anwyn. You’ve become…’

  ‘Older?’

  ‘That, of course, but also more…poised, more self-assured.’

  ‘More like a grown woman, in fact.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh, I grew up quickly, Osric, believe me.’

  ‘We all grow up, Sister.’

  ‘What was it you came to say?’

  ‘I bring news from home,’ he replied.

  Anwyn tensed, waiting. ‘The family are all well?’

  ‘Our brothers and sisters are quite well.’

  ‘That’s good to hear.’

  ‘Mother sends her warmest greetings.’

  ‘And Father?’ she asked.

  ‘Ah, yes, Father.’

  The knot in her stomach tightened. Now they would come to it.

  ‘He has been unwell these last months.’

  ‘I am grieved to hear it.’

  ‘In consequence, I have undertaken many of the responsibilities that fell to him in the past.’

  ‘I am sure that he is grateful for the assistance.’

  ‘It is no more than my duty.’ Osric paused. ‘Speaking of which, have you thought further upon the matter we touched on when last I visited?’

  ‘The wealthy northern earl?’

  ‘Just so.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Misreading her response, he nodded. ‘Such an alliance would increase our family’s standing greatly, to say nothing of wealth.’

  ‘I have no doubt it would,’ she replied. ‘There’s only one problem.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It isn’t going to happen.’