The Viking's Touch

‘That is correct.’

‘Was that wise, my lady?’

‘I should not have done it if I had thought otherwise.’

‘No, of course not.’ He paused. ‘All the same …’

Wulfgar spoke up. ‘Lady Anwyn has nothing to fear from me, or my men.’

Ingvar looked beyond Anwyn’s shoulder, apparently noticing him for the first time. There followed a tense and silent mutual appraisal.

‘Do I infer, then, that the ship is yours?’ asked Ingvar.

‘You do.’

Anwyn interjected quickly. ‘This is Lord Wulfgar. He and his men are my guests for a few days.’

‘Indeed?’

‘As you can see, my lord, there is not the least occasion for alarm,’ she continued.

‘I am relieved to hear it. You know the depth of my concern for you.’

‘Yes, I believe I do.’

Ingvar turned to her companion. ‘I hope you will forgive the unfortunate incident of yesterday, Lord Wulfgar.’

‘No harm was done, my lord.’

‘My men were overzealous,’ Ingvar continued, ‘but that is because they know the extent of my regard for the lady.’ He possessed himself of her hand and pressed it to his lips.

A muscle twitched in Wulfgar’s jaw. ‘Perhaps you should exert tighter control over your men.’

‘As I hope you will do over yours.’

‘My men are not in the habit of interfering where they have no business.’ Wulfgar turned to Anwyn. ‘Now I beg you will excuse me, my lady. There are matters requiring my attention.’

‘Ah, yes,’ said Ingvar. ‘I’m sure you want to be on your way as soon as possible.’

‘We’ll leave when we’re ready, my lord.’

‘Be sure to let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you achieve that state.’

Wulfgar met his gaze and held it. ‘When I need your help I’ll certainly ask for it.’ With that he bowed to Anwyn and walked away.

For a moment or two Ingvar watched him go. ‘I shall take my leave, too, my lady. I would not wish to impose on your time.’ He summoned his escort and remounted his horse. Having done so, he reined in beside her. ‘When I return, I shall expect to find Lord Wulfgar gone.’

The subject of their conversation had reached the carpenter’s shop as Wulfgar rejoined the other three.

‘Everything all right, my lord?’ asked Thrand.

Wulfgar nodded. ‘Well enough.’

‘Are we right in thinking that was Lord Ingvar?’

‘You are.’

‘What did he want?’

‘To speed us on our way.’

The three men regarded him incredulously for a moment, then Asulf snorted.

‘I’d like to see him try.’

‘Maybe he will,’ said Thrand.

‘There’s always hope, eh?’

It elicited a laugh from the rest. Then they turned their attention back to the task in hand. As he worked, Wulfgar let his mind return to that recent encounter. He had learned early to read men and Ingvar presented no difficulty, nor did his ambitions with regard to Anwyn. A woman alone was exposed, especially one who was wealthy and beautiful. It was none of his business, of course. In a day or two he and his men would be on their way. All the same, he had no intention of being hurried towards departure, by Ingvar or anyone else.

Anwyn paced the floor of the bower, her face pale with anger as she recounted to Jodis the details of Lord Ingvar’s visit.

‘Insufferable man! Who does he think he is?’

‘He grows more confident, my lady.’

‘He has no right to be confident of me. Drakensburgh is mine now, and I will say who is welcome here and who is not.’

‘Perhaps it is as well our visitors do not stay long,’ said Jodis. ‘All the same, I fear their departure.’

Anwyn sighed and sank down on to a chair. ‘So do I.’

She did not want to think about what might happen when their restraining presence was gone. Lord Wulfgar’s face drifted into her mind. He, too, unsettled her, but the feelings his company gave rise to could not have been more different. She had known him only a day, but she knew she would never forget him. In that moment she envied him: how would it be to board a ship and sail away from Drakensburgh and never come back? How often she had dreamed of it in times past. Torstein would never so much as permit her to speak with a stranger, never mind go near a ship.

Once she had been naïve enough to think she might escape, to summon the courage to ask for a divorce. It was not uncommon and nor was it a difficult process to arrange. A woman might part from her husband and take her children with her, along with the goods and dowry she had brought to the marriage. That was the usual way of things. However, it hadn’t taken her long to realise that her husband would never agree to such a proceeding. The only other alternative would have been to run away but, even had it been practicable, Torstein would have hunted her to the ends of the earth and then exacted a dire retribution.

Perhaps he guessed her thought for escape had been well-nigh impossible. Her freedom was limited to the confines of the pale. On the rare occasions that she was permitted to travel beyond, it was always in his presence and with an armed escort. Though they looked their fill, his men did not address her unless it was absolutely necessary and then only in the briefest and most respectful of terms. It was more than their lives were worth to do other. For the rest, human contact was limited to the women servants. She was, effectively, a prisoner. Anwyn sighed. In many ways she still was. Had it not been for Ina, life would have been much more difficult.

Their friendship had been formed in her first winter at Drakensburgh when he had fallen ill with the ague. By dint of careful nursing and the right medicine he had recovered well. It was a kindness he had not forgotten. In the days immediately following Torstein’s death he had been an invaluable aide in helping to establish her authority among the men. Ina had made it quite clear that she had his full support and their respect for him compelled them to listen. Whatever doubts they might have entertained, they did not voice them aloud. However, she was in a precarious position and she knew it. Common sense dictated that the sensible course was to remarry, but to wed a man like Ingvar would be to leap from the cooking pot into the fire.

Revisiting that embarrassing encounter just now, she wondered what Lord Wulfgar had thought. It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. Ingvar’s possessive anger had been thinly veiled. That in turn roused her own, as though she were somehow wrong-footed. Having reached peaceful agreement with the visiting force, it was infuriating to have her decision questioned like that, and by one who had no right to pronounce on the matter. Now she felt a need to put things straight again. Leaving Eyvind with Jodis, she left the bower and made for the workshop. She had no idea of what she was going to say when she got there, only knew that some form of words were necessary.

The sound of sawing and hammering drowned out her footsteps and for a little while he was unaware of her presence but, on turning to retrieve an adze, looked up and saw her there. His men exchanged knowing glances. Wulfgar paused, his face impassive. Had it been any other woman he might also have wondered at her motive for seeking him out again and, had the case stood as it so often had in the past, he would have followed up the invitation. What red-blooded man would not? However, she was as unlike those others as strong mead was to water. There was nothing remotely flirtatious in her manner; she made no attempt to attract or beguile. Moreover, she seemed to have no idea how successful a stratagem that was, unless of course she played a deeper game. Either way it was intriguing. Leaving his companions, he crossed the workshop to meet her. ‘My lady?’

‘I must speak with you, my lord.’ She hesitated. ‘Privately.’ He inclined his head in acquiescence. ‘As you wish.’ When they had walked sufficiently far to be out of earshot she turned to face him. He surveyed her speculatively, waiting, his curiosity thoroughly roused.

Anwyn drew a deep breath. ‘I wanted to apologise for what happened earlier.’