When all were gathered he rose and one by one the Drakensburgh warriors came forwards, each one kneeling and placing his hands in those of the new lord, and swearing the oath of loyalty. It was a solemn and binding promise that held both parties while they lived. Anwyn glanced round at the assembled crowd, but could see no sign of Thorkil or his friends. Their absence implied that they had left, a circumstance verified later by Ina.
‘Good riddance, too,’ he said. ‘We’re better off without them.’
Anwyn nodded. All things considered matters had gone more smoothly than expected. She glanced across the room where Wulfgar was engaged in conversation with a small group of Drakensburgh men. He must have said something witty because the words were followed by a burst of laughter. It reinforced her earlier impression of his leadership skills. These men would follow him. Ina followed her gaze.
‘I think we may look forward to better days, my lady.’
She surveyed him in surprise; coming from him, the words amounted to high praise. ‘Indeed, I hope so.’
As though sensing himself watched, Wulfgar glanced round. With a few words he excused himself from the group and came over to join his wife.
‘And now, my lady, what would it please you to do?’
‘I would like to go out for a ride, but you have already done that.’
‘A matter of duty,’ he replied. ‘This time it will be a pleasure.’
The words and the accompanying look caused her pulse to quicken. Ina looked from one to the other and his lips quirked.
‘I’ll have the grooms saddle the horses, my lord.’
Wulfgar held the horse’s bridle while she mounted. Then, having seen her safely ensconced, he followed suit.
‘Are you ready?’
‘Ready,’ she replied.
‘Come then, wife.’
The use of that word brought spots of colour into her cheeks. She glanced around, but the grooms were too far away to have caught what he said. Wulfgar grinned and she realised then that he was enjoying this. She threw him an eloquent look and turned her horse’s head towards the gate.
Once they were beyond it she let the animal out to a canter. Moments later his mount drew level. Anwyn grinned. They crossed the heath and pulled up on the edge of the dunes. The horses fell into single file, picking their way through the soft sand and coming at last to the bay beyond. The sea was calm, the waves breaking gently on the strand where the Sea Wolf waited.
At the sight of the ship Anwyn’s pleasure faded a little for she could hear Wulfgar’s voice in her head. I won’t stay for ever… With an effort she pushed the thought away. He was here now. She would not spoil the day with fears of what the future might bring.
The men on guard called a greeting which Wulfgar returned. ‘Is all well here?’ he asked, reining to a halt beside Dag.
‘Aye, my lord. No sign of anyone hereabouts until you came.’
‘Good.’
‘I reckon that Grymar oaf got the hint.’
‘Let’s hope so.’
Wulfgar rejoined Anwyn and they rode on.
‘Do you think Ingvar and company really have taken the hint?’ she asked.
‘Unless they’re stupid.’
‘I don’t know about stupid, but I believe them to be vengeful.’
‘They need not concern you now. Forget about them, Anwyn.’
‘I confess I don’t find them a particularly edifying subject.’
‘No more do I.’ He nodded in the direction of the strand. ‘That’s a mighty tempting stretch of firm sand. What say you to a gallop?’
Her face lit in a smile. ‘I’d say it sounded like an excellent idea.’
Given their heads the horses leapt forwards, their hooves flying over the packed wet sand, manes streaming in the wind. The swifter pace was exhilarating and Anwyn’s spirit soared. Once she glanced sideways and saw Wulfgar grin. They sped on, their mounts neck and neck, pulling up eventually at the far end of the bay. Anwyn laughed, patting the horse’s neck enthusiastically.
‘That was wonderful.’
‘Aye, it was,’ he replied. Then, as they walked on, ‘You ride well, my lady.’
‘So do you.’
‘My father taught me. He’s a fine horseman.’
‘A great warrior, too, I imagine.’
‘How do you know?’
‘The old saying—like father like son.’
He smiled wryly. ‘I’d like to think so, but his are mighty big shoes to step into.’
The words were spoken matter of factly, but they implied much more and she was immediately curious.
‘He lives yet?’
‘Aye, he does. My mother, too.’
‘Which of them do you resemble most?’
‘My father, definitely.’
‘Wulfrum Ragnarsson—a noble family heritage.’
‘He was an adopted son, though apparently Ragnar was like a true father to him. When King Ella captured and executed Ragnar, his sons took their revenge.’
Anwyn nodded. She had heard the tale of the great Viking invasion, although she had not been born then.
‘Was your father married before he came to England?’
‘No. He took my mother as a prize of war.’
Her eyes widened. ‘She was enslaved?’
‘Not exactly. Lord Halfdan gave my father the Ravenswood estate as a reward for loyal service. My mother had held it till then, following the deaths of her father and brother. In that sense she went with it, so my father took her to wife. She had no say in the matter.’
Anwyn shivered a little. ‘Then I pity her.’
‘It might have been a lot worse.’ He surveyed her steadily. ‘My father was in love with her, you see.’
‘Was he?’
‘She was very beautiful in her youth, and strong-willed. She was not easily won, but then my father is not easily deflected from a purpose. He determined to win her and he succeeded. Eventually she came to love him in return.’
‘A fortunate circumstance for both of them.’
‘Aye, I suppose it was.’
‘The marriage was happy in the end, then.’
‘Most happy. It still is.’
Anwyn could identify strongly with the young girl forced into marriage with a stranger. Except that her story had had a happy ending. Earl Wulfrum must be a remarkable man. If his son took after him, then he had undoubtedly been handsome, but there had to be a great deal more. Was that the source of Wulfgar’s charisma? Certainly the words offered another tantalising glimpse of his past.
‘I was never close to my father,’ she said. ‘His interest was all for his sons. Daughters were useful only as a means of consolidating power.’
‘Was that why he married you to Torstein?’
‘Yes.’ She paused. ‘Do you have brothers and sisters living?’
‘Two brothers and a sister, all married now.’
‘Did you all get on?’
He grinned. ‘Most of the time.’
‘That must have been pleasant.’
He heard the wistful note in her voice and understood it. Despite the inevitable fights with his brothers, his childhood had been happy enough. He had assumed, back then, that everyone else shared the same experience. It had come as a surprise to find out later that he was wrong.
For a while neither one spoke. Anwyn found it impossible to read the thoughts behind that handsome face, but just then she didn’t care. When she was in his company she could shrug off the past; everything else became insignificant somehow, and every fibre of her being was tuned only to him. It seemed likely that they would not have much time together, but perhaps that didn’t matter. She had spent almost two thousand days with Torstein; endless dreary days that blended and merged until she could remember little or nothing of them. The days spent with Wulfgar would not be forgotten so easily.
It was perhaps an hour later when they stopped by a stream and dismounted to let the horses drink. Then, by tacit consent, they strolled
together a little way. Stands of alder and willow lined the bank while on the margins of the water clumps of yellow iris made splashes of colour. Brilliant blue dragonflies darted among the reeds and a shoal of minnows basked in the shallows.
‘A pleasant spot,’ said Wulfgar. ‘Will it please you to sit a while?’
Having tethered the horses, they took their ease on the grassy bank, surveying the scene. She had not previously considered Drakensburgh to be a beautiful place, but it was. Not that she had been able to explore much of it then and what she had seen was coloured by Torstein’s company. It all seemed like a past life now. She glanced at the man beside her and found herself the object of close scrutiny.
‘Did you know that you have the most beautiful hair? I thought so the first time I set eyes on you.’ He grinned. ‘When you rode on to the beach that day I thought at first that one of the Valkyries was come among us.’
Anwyn laughed, albeit ruefully. ‘I seem to recall that I was in a rare temper at the time. It goes with the hair, you see.’
‘So I’ve noticed.’
‘It is a failing I’m oft reminded of.’
‘No failing. Anger suits you, too.’
It was hard to know what to make of this and she suspected that he was teasing her. Before she could pursue the thought he altered his position, moving behind her. She glanced round.
‘Sit still.’ Wulfgar reached for the ribbon that bound the end of the braid and untied it.
Anwyn felt the slight tug. ‘What are you doing?’
‘What I’ve wanted to do from the first.’ Slowly and deliberately he began to unfasten her plait, checking her protest with a hand on her shoulder. ‘Be still.’
His hands continued their work, moving higher now, casually brushing her back and shoulders. The touch sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with fear or cold. The rest of the plait loosened and came undone. Wulfgar let the glossy ropes of hair trail through his hands for a moment, then shook out each one until the entirety of it hung down her back like a cloak of flame.
He grinned. ‘That’s better.’
Anwyn regarded him in mock exasperation. ‘How am I going to bind it again now?’
‘You’re not,’ he replied.
‘Not?’
‘No.’
Her eyes widened a little. ‘But, Wulfgar, I can’t leave it like this. It isn’t decent. Someone might see.’
‘I am the only one here to see.’
‘Yes, but…’
‘And as I am your husband it cannot be indecent.’
‘I am not sure that necessarily follows,’ she replied.
‘No more it does.’
Anwyn glanced about her, but there was no one else in evidence. Seeing that, she relaxed a little. It was unseemly for a married woman to wear her hair loose; only very young girls did that. At the same time it was strangely liberating. Torstein would have had a fit. She bit back a gurgle of laughter. Torstein had had a fit. That was why she was sitting here on the bank of a stream with another man and with her hair undone. Unbidden, the laughter swelled in her throat. She tried to suppress it, but it burst out of her anyway. She buried her face against her knees, hugging them close, shoulders shaking.
Wulfgar regarded her curiously. ‘What?’
Unable to speak, Anwyn merely shook her head. It was sometime before she regained a measure of self-control, drying her eyes with the sleeve of her gown.
‘Forgive me,’ she said then. ‘I couldn’t help it.’
‘Won’t you share the joke?’ he asked.
‘I wish I could, but unless you’d met Torstein it wouldn’t be nearly as funny.’
‘Torstein?’
‘Yes. I was visualising the expression on his face if he could see me now.’
Wulfgar grinned. ‘Aye, I suppose that would be interesting.’
‘You have no idea.’
‘Perhaps it’s as well he isn’t here then, or your brother, either, for that matter.’
‘Osric would run you through.’
‘He might try.’
Anwyn eyed him speculatively. ‘Would you kill him?’
‘If I had to, although I’d be loath to earn your enmity.’
She sighed. ‘In truth I don’t know if you would.’
‘I thought when I saw you together that your relationship was not the closest.’
‘It wasn’t.’ She hesitated. ‘It was Osric who sided with my father over the marriage to Torstein.’
‘I see.’
‘I couldn’t let him do it a second time.’
‘He shouldn’t have done it the first time,’ said Wulfgar.
‘Well, he’s gone now and Torstein is dead.’
‘So things could be much worse, then.’
Anwyn caught his eye and they both laughed. He thought it suited her very well, like unbound hair. If he had his way, both were going to happen more often. He leaned closer and then laughter faded a little. For a brief second she seemed to hesitate. Then her face tilted towards his and she gave herself up to his kiss. It was soft and lingering and utterly irresistible.
With a major effort of will he drew back, his blood racing. He wanted her, here, now, wanted to possess her entirely. But more than that, he wanted her consent. Anything else would be a violation. Looking into her face now, what he read was uncertainty. It was better than the fear he had seen earlier, but it was still not enough.
He got to his feet and held out his hands, pulling her up after him. ‘Come.’
They strolled together along the side of the stream among the trees. He had retained a hold of one hand. His own engulfed it, warm and firm, the palm roughened from long use of sword and axe—a warrior’s touch. It sent a tremor the length of her arm.
They paused once to watch a kingfisher dive, a vivid dart of blue and orange against the green. A silver flash announced the captured fish and then the bird flew off. Anwyn smiled, immeasurably gladdened by the sight. She knew the feeling only partly attributable to the kingfisher; most of it was due to the man beside her. Just being in his company was enough to lift her heart and lighten her spirit.
‘The bird is wise. This is a good place to fish,’ he said then. ‘Look there. See the trout?’
Anwyn followed his pointing finger to the centre of the stream where several large fish finned against the current. Without warning he grabbed her waist, pushing her forwards. She shrieked, only to find herself snatched back to safety at the last moment. Outraged, she turned accusingly.
‘You beast!’
‘I crave your pardon, my lady.’
‘If you want my pardon, you must first wipe that smile off your face.’
‘I regret that I cannot.’
‘We’ll see about that.’
She grabbed a clump of willow herb and advanced on him. Wulfgar allowed her to get close, then turned and seized hold of her, lifting her off her feet. Then he strode towards the stream. Anwyn struggled hard.
‘Wulfgar, no!’
He held her easily. ‘Perhaps the water may cool your fiery temper.’
She clutched his tunic in desperation. ‘Do this, and I swear I’ll never speak to you again.’
He checked on the margin, grinning. ‘In truth, that would be too terrible a fate to contemplate. I must think of another forfeit.’
Heart pounding, Anwyn glared at him. ‘You will not!’
‘Say you so?’
His expression then was not calculated to reassure. She renewed her struggles, to his evident enjoyment.
‘Of course it may take me a while.’
‘Wulfgar, put me down!’
‘I dare not, for fear of the reprisal.’
‘It would serve you right.’
He walked slowly along the bank. His fighting burden seemed to cause him not the least inconvenience, a factor which served only to increase her ire. Wulfgar glanced down.
‘Aye, anger suits you. I’ve always thought so.’
For a moment she was dumbfound
ed. Then her sense of the ridiculous returned and she gave a reluctant laugh.
‘Do you know that you’re the most impossible man?’
‘You are not the first to say so.’
‘I’ll wager I’m not, and that they were all women who said it.’
‘I can’t deny it.’
She surveyed him speculatively. ‘I won’t ask how many women.’
His lips twitched. ‘Are you jealous?’
‘Certainly not!’
‘Pity. I was really hoping you might be.’
Anwyn tried to restrain welling laughter, but it escaped anyway. He heard it and smiled, regarding her keenly.
‘Anger does suit you,’ he said, ‘but laughter suits you even better.’
She wasn’t sure how to respond to that and so said nothing. Something in his look set her heart to beating much faster, and she was suddenly supremely aware of it and him. This enforced nearness was still a cause for ire, only now it was directed at herself for enjoying it.
He carried her back to the waiting horses before he set her down. Acutely conscious of her dishevelled appearance and of the appreciative smile on his lips, Anwyn felt her face grow warm.
‘I must redo my hair. I cannot go back looking like this.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like a wanton.’
‘A wanton? What a delicious thought.’ The words called forth an indignant glare. The smile became a grin. ‘Turn around.’
‘Why?’
‘Must you always argue?’
Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her firmly round. Moments later she felt the weight of her hair drawn back.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Ensuring you don’t return looking like a wanton,’ he replied.
He drew her ribbon from the pocket of his tunic. Then he divided the fiery mass of hair into three sections and began to re-braid it, weaving in the ribbon as he went. He was surprisingly competent.
The Viking's Touch Page 14
