‘Your survival angers them. I will have no dealings with a person who has turned his back on our gods!’
‘Why do you always seek to find a way to get out of every challenge? You can’t slit my throat like you did with Horik. Nor can you poison my drink like you did with Sirgurd. Turned his bowels to water, wasn’t that your boast?’
As he’d hoped, the remainder of the felag stopped. No one came to Girmir’s assistance. Several murmured amongst themselves. They knew the rumours as well as he did. Valdar kept his gaze trained on Girmir.
‘That was never proved!’ Girmir shouted. ‘The gods punished Sirgurd for speaking against me. And everyone killed Horik. Everyone put his sword into his belly. And those who didn’t, they fought me and lost.’
‘Didn’t you tell them how you defeated Sirgurd, Girmir? The tricks you played?’
‘I didn’t put anything into his drink. Is it my fault that dust blinded him?’ Utter silence greeted his coarse laugh.
Girmir glanced to his left and right. The men had started to back away.
‘Valdar has the right to challenge you,’ one of the men said. ‘He is one of the felag.’
‘You have brought us nothing but ill luck, Girmir Storm Crow. The gods favour Valdar. They have kept him alive.’
‘Fools, it is because he didn’t die that our mast broke.’
‘You blamed that on my cousin,’ someone grumbled. ‘You slit his throat. And all that happened was that we were washed up back here without food. And not enough men to row. And our navigator is lost. All because of your bad temper.’
‘Your answer, Girmir,’ Valdar said. ‘Will you fight? Or will you be cast out of the felag as a coward?’
Girmir dumped Alwynn on the ground. ‘No man calls me a coward and lives.’
Silently Valdar prayed that she’d remain sensible and stay still. She curled up in a ball, but before she did, she gave him a look that cut him to the core.
Valdar clung on to his self-control. The only way he could win was not to lose his temper. His father had hammered that lesson into him. Defend and wait for the opportunity to strike.
‘Shall we fight? For the right to lead the felag? You against me with no other man involved.’
‘Only members of the felag can fight for that.’
‘I’m still a member—the gods chose to save me and the outcome of our fight lies in their hands.’ Valdar advanced, swinging his sword in his right hand, savouring the feel of it. It was good to be fighting again, instead of running. He would avenge deaths, but more important he would keep Alwynn safe. After he was finished no one would attack this section of the Northumbrian coast for generations. ‘They realised I had unfinished business. Now, will you fight or be branded as a coward for ever?’
Girmir glanced to his right and left. The men were still backed away from him. It was then Valdar knew he had a chance.
‘I will fight.’ Girmir drew his sword and tossed it between his hands. ‘It will be my great pleasure to carve your liver out of your hide and then I will have your woman, Nerison. Slowly and without mercy.’
Valdar raised his chin and stared at him. ‘The gods will decide what happens. They always do.’
The men made a circle about them. He could hear the betting that always accompanied a challenge like this.
‘Shall we agree the rules?’ Valdar asked. ‘It is customary—’
‘Your challenge. My rules.’ Giving a great shout, Girmir rushed forward, circling an axe in one hand and a sword in the other.
Valdar was ready for the charge. He’d seen the manoeuvre in his youth. At the last breath, he pivoted and Girmir plunged into the circle of warriors.
Girmir wiped the sweat from his face. ‘I bet you think you are amusing.’
‘I’m not the one who just ran past my opponent without landing a blow.’
Someone tossed Valdar a shield. ‘You will need this. I’m betting on you to bring us home.’
He crouched ready for the next onslaught. Girmir charged forward.
Valdar’s sword met Girmir’s with a great clang as he raised his shield to deflect the axe. Rather than backing off, Girmir pressed forward.
The ferocity of the attack would have knocked a less fit man off his feet, but Valdar instantly adjusted his stance and regained his balance.
Girmir’s reputation as a successful fighter might be well earned, but the man had no stamina. He resorted to cheap tricks before the fight had properly begun.
Valdar knew if he could keep up the defence, he would find an opening and would be able to defeat him. It was how his father had taught him to fight—with caution and patience, weighing up his opportunities and waiting until the perfect opening came along.
Valdar risked a glance at Alwynn. She hadn’t moved. If Girmir had harmed one hair on her head... And then he saw it—the bruise to her right cheek.
Tossing aside years of caution, he drove forward, meeting each of the blows that Girmir thought to rain on him with a cut or thrust of his own. Girmir’s eyes widened as he was forced on the back foot, forced to defend rather than to attack. It was obvious what he’d expected—the old cautious Valdar, the warrior who always defended.
Valdar gave an inward smile. That Valdar had drowned in the storm.
He brought his shield down on Girmir’s axe hand and the weapon fell to the ground. Valdar kicked it away.
Round and round they went. He felt the searing heat of a knife hit his forearm and knew his luck was running out. The power in his arm was going and it was only a matter of time before Girmir landed another lucky blow.
Giving in to instinct, Valdar stabbed forward and down, and connected with Girmir’s side.
‘Where is the boy, Girmir? Where is your navigator?’
‘The lad’s disappeared. He was bad luck. Probably got by a boar or a wolf afore I found him. We was searching for him when we came across this here farm. The farmer should have let us take what we wanted. Wouldn’t have been no trouble that way.’
Valdar clenched his jaw. There would be time to grieve for Eirik later. All the boy had wanted was to take part in a trading voyage. He had honestly thought the boy’s skill at navigation would have protected him. One day when he could, he’d sing a lament for the lad.
‘You deserve to rot in the ice of hell, Girmir.’
‘No, you do, Valdar.’ Girmir brought his blade down, missing Valdar’s shoulder by a hair’s breadth. ‘You are too slow, Valdar Nerison. You are cautious. You are a practical man who never sticks his neck out. It is why men like me will always win in the end. Fortune favours the brave.’
Valdar felt the familiar doubts assail him.
A tiny sound from Alwynn shocked him back to reality. He redoubled his efforts and ignored the pain in his arm. He had this one chance. He had to do it for Alwynn and for her people.
‘Fortune favours me today!’ He lunged forward with all his might and felt the sword sink deep. Girmir gave an odd gurgle and fell backwards. ‘Your rule of this felag has ended. For ever!’
Alwynn watched the fight with horrified eyes. Valdar, the man she’d given her body to, was one of them, one of the despised Northmen. He was speaking their language and the men seemed to know him. They called to him by name.
But deep down in her heart she’d always known it. Ever since that first night when they’d spoken in the darkness, but she hadn’t wanted to admit it.
She’d made excuses and fabricated another life for him. Another land far away, across a different sea. She’d ruthlessly silenced all her doubts. So much for saying goodbye to the naive woman who blithely trusted her husband. Only she was worse than ever. She hated herself for not facing the truth earlier. She’d lied to everyone, but most of all she’d lied to herself because she lusted after Valdar and she’d known what he was.
The only things the Northmen brought were death and destruction. Looking around the burning farm strewn with slaughtered animals and dead bodies, clearly Valdar was no exception. Death and destru
ction indeed. He had lied about everything. He was a brutal raider, a murderer. He was not the principled man he’d claimed to be. He’d lied to her and she’d believed him because she had wanted to. He’d utterly betrayed her. She cursed that, even now, a part of her hoped that there had been some ghastly mistake, that he’d been their prisoner or slave, that somehow he wasn’t a Northman.
She’d watched the battle from behind her hands and been glad that he’d killed the foul-breathed Northman who had held her captive. That one would have raped her in the blink of an eye. She had seen what he’d done at the farm. Urien barely alive and Cleofirth cut down.
She had rejoiced when she saw the sword sink deep into the brute’s stomach. What did that make her? She retched slightly, despising herself. Inadvertently she had become the lowest of the low—a Northman’s lover. Had Valdar known they were here all this time? Every inch of her skin crawled with shame.
‘It’s over,’ Valdar gasped out, clutching his arm. ‘You’re safe, Alwynn.’
She took a step backwards, avoiding his hand. Valdar was one of them. All her dreams about a life together, a life with a kind and gentle man who loved her and would die for her, was an insubstantial fairy tale. The reality was the slaughter in the farmhouse. Valdar had... ‘No! I can never be safe when you are here.’
The other Northmen started to move closer, more menacing than before. Whatever they said caused Valdar to go white. He moved in front of her. ‘I will protect you, Alwynn, to my dying breath.’
Alwynn gulped. The odds were not good on either of them surviving.
‘What is going on?’ Oswy thundered behind her. ‘We heard there was...’
She turned and saw a host of villagers armed with little more than pitchforks and shovels, but loaded with determination. Oswy brandished an axe.
‘The Northmen!’ she cried. ‘They’ve attacked Cleofirth’s farmhouse!’
The men looked to Valdar for confirmation that they should attack these peasants, then when one turned and started running, the rest took off after him. Only Valdar remained, standing resolute before the villagers, his bloodied sword half-raised.
‘After them,’ he cried. ‘They would kill us all.’
The villagers needed no more urging and swarmed past, intent on righting a wrong.
Alwynn’s legs refused to hold her up and she sank to the ground. She covered her eyes and laid her face against the soft moss. She’d been such a fool and her heart shattered into a thousand pieces.
* * *
She never knew how long she knelt there, but gradually she became aware of the utter silence. Where there had been a great rushing sound, now there was only stillness. An eerie sort of stillness.
‘Alwynn?’ she heard Valdar call in the stillness. ‘Are you hurt? Did Girmir do anything to you? Did anyone hurt you?’
With furious fingers, she brushed the moisture from her cheeks. ‘I’m fine.’ Except my heart is breaking.
‘You’ve nothing to fear. It has been a complete rout. Girmir can’t hurt you any more, sweetling. None of them can.’
‘Was that his name? Girmir?’ she asked. She rose and kept her shoulders back. There was no way that Valdar would ever know her heart wept for him and the man she had thought he was. Her whole body seemed numb and she moved slowly as if she was moving in a dream.
‘Aye, that was his name.’ He crouched down beside her. ‘He was one of the worst sort. The men who survived were mutineers and traitors. You must not think that all my countrymen are like that. Most are honest and law-abiding farmers.’
Honest and law-abiding? The words seemed hollow. ‘You have a different notion of honesty, I think.’
‘He and his gang are destroyed, thanks to you.’
‘I didn’t do anything.’ She pressed her hands together to stop them trembling. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘You gave me my courage back. I could fight for you in a way that I could not fight for my dead comrades.’ He came beside her and she saw weariness etched on the lines of his face. ‘When I thought I was beaten, I turned my head and saw you. Fresh strength flowed through me and I defeated him. You saved my life. Again.’
Her heart ached anew, but she told herself sternly that those were just words. Valdar possessed a silver tongue. It could not distract her from what he was—a Northman who had come to wage war on an innocent people.
‘I’m fine. There are other people...’
‘They can wait.’
She glanced over and saw his ghostly pallor. All her resolutions fled. Blood seeped from his arm. His blood. He had fought for her. The only reason why she was alive was because of him. She closed her eyes. One Northman was different from the rest. How could she judge him when he had saved her life?
There was no way she could betray him to the king, but also there was no way he could remain here. All her earlier dreams tasted like dust in her mouth.
She reached into the herb bag that she always carried and withdrew a little moss. The act made her feel better. She knew how to heal, even if her heart was bleeding.
She scrambled over to him and put his head on her lap. She stroked his forehead ‘You are injured. Keep quiet now. Let me handle everything.’
He nodded. ‘We will do this as you say. But know that I would never hurt you or allow anyone to hurt you. I would give my life for you. Gladly.’
‘Oswy!’ she called, trying to concentrate on the wound rather than his words. His flesh swam in front of her eyes. She blinked several times and tasted the salt of tears as they dripped down the back of her throat. Her heart wanted to believe him, but how could she? ‘Fetch me some water. Valdar is hurt. I should be able to save him, but I will need herbs.’
‘My lady?’ The big miller tilted his head to one side. ‘What is going on here? What has happened to Valdar?’
‘Valdar fought the Northman’s leader and won. If he hadn’t done that, I shudder to think what could have happened.’ Her voice sounded high and tight to her ears. Silently she prayed Oswy would not ask how the fight came about. She was through with lying. ‘But he hurt his arm. I want to see if the blade went deep or simply glanced off.’
Oswy gave a huge smile. ‘I will get the water for our local hero. Did you see the way he cut down that brute of a Northman?’
He trotted off faster than she’d seen him move for many years.
‘Why did you fight him?’ she asked. ‘What did you hope to gain?’
Valdar sat up, cradling his arm. ‘I fought to save you. The only way I could do that was to challenge Girmir. I’d hoped that would be enough to stop them all, but the others were too far gone. They called me a traitor because of you. I have no remorse about their fate.’
‘I will take your word for that. I know what he and his men did in that farmhouse.’
He gave a faint nod and raised a hand to touch her, but she backed away. ‘The villagers will be talking about how they routed the Northmen for ever. It took all my doing to persuade them not to go into their fishing boats and travel northwards.’
Her heart knocked against her chest. She had to hope that no one else had guessed about his true allegiance. Not while the blood was running high. He would be killed without question if any of the villagers suspected the truth.
‘Were they your friends? Girmir and his men?’
Slowly he shook his head. ‘You know the answer to that. I did not bring them here and I did not betray you.’
Alwynn bit her lip. She had trusted him and he wasn’t the person he’d seemed to be at all. And yet he had saved her life. He had confronted that horrible barbarian and beaten him. He had stood between her and the other men, prepared to battle. Her stomach revolted.
What had Valdar’s true purpose here been? Did she even want to know? He had used her, but then he’d saved her life. She owed him something for that. Her head pained her so dreadfully that it was hard to think straight. ‘I don’t know you, Valdar. I thought I did, but you are a different person entirely. I’ve no idea what sort o
f man you are.’
He reached out and put her hand against his chest. Under her palm she felt the steady thump of his heart. ‘Do you feel that? My heart is true, Alwynn. Always. It beats for you and you alone.’
Her hand rested against his chest. She could feel its rise and fall with every breath he took. Her heart desperately wanted to believe, but she knew she couldn’t.
Her trust had been shattered. With Theodbald, she’d had the excuse of being young and a wife. There was no excuse with Valdar. She’d lusted after him and that had blinded her to his faults. She hadn’t listened to any of her doubts and she’d never questioned.
Thinking back, she suspected that Gode had tried to tell her that first day she visited the hut, but she hadn’t wanted to listen. She could have asked him about the words he’d called out in his sleep. She could have questioned him about how he knew so much about the habits of Northmen raiders. If she had...they could have been prepared. The farmhouse had burnt because she’d been too cowardly to ask basic questions. She put her hand to her aching head. The guilt threatened to overwhelm her.
‘Alwynn?’ he asked, uncertainty creeping into his voice. ‘Are you listening to me?’
She withdrew her hand. If she wanted to keep her wits about her, she had to keep from touching him.
‘Why were you here if not to rob and murder? You are a long way from your homeland, Valdar. You came for a purpose. From the looks of Girmir and his men you didn’t come to make friends.’
‘You ought to believe me when I say that wasn’t it at all.’
‘Why? You lied to me. In the worst way.’
‘I merely let you believe what you wanted to. If it was a lie, it was a lie of omission. I couldn’t take the risk of telling you the truth. I thought once you knew me, you’d understand the sort of man I was.’ He made a helpless gesture which reminded her of her late husband when he was caught in a lie. ‘This thing between you and me, it wasn’t supposed to occur. But it did and it has been the best thing ever to happen to me.’
This morning, his words would have set her heart fluttering. Now she realised they had no more meaning than a bard’s tale.
Summer of the Viking Page 19
