The Viking's Touch

by Joanna Fulford

  She shot a swift glance at Wulfgar but his expression was indicative only of polite interest. However, the look in his eye was more eloquent, like the hand idly resting on the hilt of his dagger. Quelling a sudden urge to laugh she turned back to her brother.

  ‘By force?’

  ‘He brought an army with him,’ said Wulfgar in a confidential tone. ‘There must be at least a hundred men.’

  Osric eyed him askance. ‘Just so.’

  ‘It was quite unnecessary, Brother,’ said Anwyn. ‘I have thought on your words often since last we met, and have come to the conclusion that you were absolutely right.’

  He regarded her with blank astonishment for a moment; then began to look rather more mollified. ‘I am glad you are come to your senses at last, Anwyn.’

  She sighed. ‘I confess it took a while but, on mature reflection, I saw that marriage to an earl was the only course open to me.’

  ‘I told you so.’

  ‘So you did, and I hope you can forgive me for my earlier failure to listen to your advice.’

  ‘Well, I was never one to bear a grudge, as you know. In truth, this is most pleasing to hear, Sister.’

  ‘I was so stricken with remorse after your departure that I vowed there and then to put the matter right.’

  ‘I don’t follow.’

  ‘I found an earl and married him at once.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘What trickery is this, Anwyn? What earl?’

  ‘The Earl of Drakensburgh and Beranhold.’ She smiled and slipped her arm through Wulfgar’s. ‘But I believe you have already met.’

  For a moment Osric could only stare at her in dumbfounded silence. Then he turned his attention to Wulfgar and his expression grew thunderous. ‘You mean this Viking adventurer is your husband?’

  The Viking’s gaze became several degrees cooler but he spoke quietly enough. ‘I am Wulfgar, son of Wulfrum Ragnarsson, and descended from an ancient and noble line of Danish earls. My family has wealth and rich estates enough to surpass any lordling in this land.’ His gaze locked with Osric’s. ‘And swords to back his claims if need be.’

  There followed a pregnant silence in which his men drew closer around them. Then Osric cleared his throat. ‘The, um…noble name of Ragnarsson is, of course, known to me.’

  ‘It is known to many, and with good reason,’ replied Wulfgar. ‘And you, Lord Osric, are like to hear more of it.’ He paused. ‘I would prefer it to be in the context of amity.’

  ‘I intended no disrespect, my lord. Of course your family’s wealth and status are beyond dispute. My former exclamation was merely…surprise at learning of my sister’s unexpected change of fortune.’

  Anwyn smiled up at Wulfgar. ‘Indeed, I am the most fortunate of women.’

  Her brother nodded. ‘I can see that now.’

  ‘I hope so,’ Wulfgar said evenly, ‘because I hold this lady dear and will not relinquish her to any man.’

  Osric’s expression registered concern. ‘Had I known before how the matter stood, my lord, I should never have suggested any such thing. I trust you do not misinterpret my motives.’

  ‘Oh, no. I understand those perfectly.’

  ‘Truly, I am relieved. I would never wish to provoke family discord.’

  Wulfgar glanced at Anwyn. ‘Our hearts are lighter for knowing that.’

  ‘My men and I shall leave on the morrow,’ Osric continued, ‘but if you would be so kind as to offer shelter this night…’

  ‘To have you stay would make our joy complete.’

  ‘You are generous, my lord.’

  ‘Not at all.’ Wulfgar favoured his brother-in-law with a lupine grin. ‘After all, I know it’s going to be a long time before we see you again.’

  With that he reclaimed his wife’s hand and led her away. Anwyn glanced up at him and he heard a gurgle of laughter. It drew a wry answering smile.

  ‘Blood and sand! I was never more tempted to fillet a man.’

  ‘It’s bad form to slay your relatives, Wulfgar.’

  ‘More’s the pity.’ He shrugged. ‘On the plus side, my own family have never appeared in a more advantageous light.’

  They continued on through the gateway. As they emerged a small figure detached itself from the waiting group outside and hurtled towards them.

  ‘Mother!’

  Anwyn opened her arms to receive her son, hugging him tightly, unable to speak for the lump in her throat. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, she did both. Wulfgar looked on, his heart full. This time the spinners of fate had been kind. This time he had been given a second chance and he had no intention of throwing it away. The Sea Wolf would sail again soon and her crew would join Rollo to seek new adventures and gather loot elsewhere. However, they would do it without him. He’d had his fill of fighting other men’s wars. If he fought in future it would be to protect his own. He smiled to himself. Then he bent down and lifted Eyvind, settling the child into the crook of one arm. The other went around his wife, holding her close.

  ‘Come,’ he said. ‘We’re going home.’

  Epilogue

  Twelve months later

  ‘Look! They’re coming!’ From his vantage point on Wulfgar’s shoulders Eyvind pointed to the approaching riders.

  ‘So they are.’ Wulfgar lifted him down. ‘Run and tell Rorik to open the gate.’

  ‘Yes, Father.’

  As Eyvind raced off Anwyn took a last swift glance at her gown, smoothing a tiny wrinkle from the blue fabric. The man beside her smiled.

  ‘You look wonderful.’

  In truth, she had taken a lot of time and care over her appearance, wanting to do honour to the arriving guests. Even so, she could not help feeling a little nervous.

  So much would depend on this meeting and she wanted to be a credit to Wulfgar. Sensing something of her apprehension, he took her hand and squeezed it gently.

  ‘It will all be well. You’ll see.’

  ‘I pray it will.’

  ‘Come,’ he said.

  She took a deep breath and followed him down the steps from the rampart as the riders passed through the open gateway. She watched as the foremost of them dismounted and moments later he and Wulfgar were locked in a hearty hug. Then the stranger glanced over Wulfgar’s shoulder and piercing blue eyes met her gaze.

  For a moment she experienced the uncanny sensation of looking at an older version of Wulfgar. The two men were startlingly alike. Like Wulfgar, the newcomer had undeniable presence, but withal he possessed the gravitas that only age and experience could give.

  ‘You must be Anwyn,’ he said.

  ‘Earl Wulfrum,’ she replied. ‘I bid you welcome.’

  He smiled and bent to kiss her cheek. ‘I always knew my son had good taste, but it seems to have got even better over the years.’

  Under that blue gaze Anwyn felt herself blush. The thought occurred that he, too, must have been dangerously attractive in his youth—attractive enough to win the heart of his captive Saxon bride.

  Lady Elgiva embraced her son and then came to join them. Advancing years could not hide the vintage beauty she had once been, though they had added silver strands to the gold of her hair. Stunning amber eyes scrutinised Anwyn now from head to toe, then warmed in a smile.

  ‘My husband is right,’ she observed.

  Wulfgar grinned. ‘I take after him in that respect.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad I passed on a grain of good sense at least,’ replied Wulfrum. Then his gaze fell on the child who had returned to stand beside Anwyn. ‘And who is this?’

  Wulfgar laid a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. ‘My stepson, Eyvind.’

  ‘A fine boy. How old are you, Eyvind?’

  ‘Six years and a quarter, my lord.’

  Wulfrum’s lips twitched. ‘Is it so? Have you begun your training yet?’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  ‘Then later you shall show me what you have learned.’

  Eyvind reddened with pleasure. Anwyn’s heart swell
ed. It was a kind attention that she had not expected.

  ‘Shall we go in?’ she suggested. ‘You must be tired after your journey.’

  ‘Not so tired that I would wait longer to see my newest grandchild,’ said Elgiva.

  ‘Grandchildren,’ corrected Wulfgar. Then, as she stared at him, he added, ‘Twins.’

  ‘But the messenger said…’

  ‘The messenger told the truth as he knew it. The second baby was born after he’d left. It took us all unawares. Rather than send another man after him, we decided to let the rest come as a surprise.’

  Wulfrum laughed. ‘Well, by all the gods! Twins, you say?’

  ‘A boy and a girl—Wulfhere and Asta.’

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ said Elgiva. Then she looked at Anwyn. ‘Though no doubt it was hard for you, my dear.’

  ‘Their births were much easier than my first.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ She smiled. ‘By and by we shall sit apart and talk.’

  Seeing the kindness in her expression, Anwyn’s nervousness began to diminish. ‘I would like that, my lady.’

  Wulfgar gestured towards the hall. ‘Let us go in, then.’

  The babies had been left in Jodis’s care and were currently lying on a rug in front of the fire. They stared at the visitors in blue-eyed wonder. Within moments they were carefully gathered up and became the centre of fawning attention.

  ‘See what a grip the child has!’ said Wulfrum as Wulfhere’s tiny fist closed round his little finger. ‘He’s going to be a fine warrior one day and no mistake.’

  ‘And his sister will be a beauty,’ said Elgiva. ‘Just like her mother.’

  Anwyn smiled. ‘I hope she won’t inherit her mother’s faults.’

  ‘Don’t worry, my dear. She’ll be quite capable of developing her own.’ With that, Elgiva began to reminisce about the days when her own children had been young.

  Wulfgar smiled and, heart full, let the conversation drift over him, watching the scene with quiet pride. Once, standing amid the ashes of his former life, he had thought himself accursed; now all that he believed lost had been restored in full measure. He had been given a second chance and he meant to seize it: to make Drakensburgh thrive; to watch his children grow up. More than all of that, he had been given a chance to love again. In truth, the gods had been kind. They would not regret such generosity for he had learned how to value their gifts.

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  ISBN: 9781459223325

  Copyright © 2011 by Joanna Fulford

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