The Viking's Defiant Bride (8 page)

‘My lady, there are men hiding in the forest, in the cave by the old dolmen stones.'

Elgiva caught her breath. ‘How many?'

‘Two.'

‘They must get away. Why do they linger?'

‘One is hurt, lady. My brother, Hunfirth. He has a bad wound in his side and an arrow lodged in his shoulder. Our cousin, Brekka, got him away after the battle and hid him in the cave. I urged him to save himself, but he will not leave Hunfirth in such sore case. We have kept them supplied with food, but I fear my brother will die unless he can get proper tending.'

Elgiva bit her lip. She was watched day and night and so was Osgifu. If they tried to get out, they would likely lead the earl's men straight to the hiding place. Yet they could not stand by and let men die.

‘I will think of something, Leofwine, I promise. When I do, I will send word with Osgifu.'

‘God bless you, my lady.'

‘I think we all have need of blessing,' she replied.

He nodded and walked away, unwilling to draw any unnecessary attention. Elgiva continued on. Her path led through the hamlet, or what was left of it. The smell of charred wood lingered still and everywhere was evidence of destruction in the piles of ash and blackened skeletons of burned-out dwellings. Hard by stood the sombre ruins of the church. At intervals dark patches stained the turf, marking the places where men had fallen and died. Where once a thriving village had stood, all around was a scene of desolation and death. Now it looked as though more men would die. Suddenly she was determined that it must be prevented. She must speak to Osgifu as soon as possible.

She came at length to the hall where the shattered portal still hung askew, another painful symbol of defeat, and hurried on. It was safer by far to walk round than through for more of Wulfrum's men were about and she had no wish to draw their attention. Every thought of the Viking marauders was anathema. By day Halfdan sent out groups of men to hunt for fugitive Saxons to return to their new master and for game, for such a large force must be fed, the men demanding meat to supplement what they had stolen on their passage through the countryside. By night they feasted. The great hall rang with the sound of their laughter and jesting over flowing mead horns. Then the female serfs faced another fear as the thoughts of the men turned from fighting to other things. She shuddered, the chill of one realising all too well that she lived on borrowed time.

Hastening towards the bower, so engrossed in thought, she failed to notice the man standing nearby. She was almost on him before she saw him and stopped short with a sharp intake of breath when she recognised the cruel predatory smile.
Sweyn's gaze travelled over her appreciatively. Elgiva regarded him with coldness and said no word, but as she made to pass him, he blocked her way.

‘Not so fast, wench.'

He lifted a hand towards her, but she stepped out of reach, her eyes raking him with scorn.

‘Get out of my way.'

His thin lips twisted in a smile, but it never reached his eyes. ‘Still high and mighty, Elgiva?'

‘Let me pass.'

‘We have some unfinished business, you and I.'

Elgiva's heart beat faster but she lifted her chin and stared him down.

‘You and I have no business of any kind.'

‘You think so?'

She tried again to pass him, but this time he held her arm to prevent it. His fingers dug into her flesh as he drew her closer. Wincing, Elgiva shrank back. His grip tightened and he smiled.

‘Afraid, my lady?'

‘You flatter yourself.'

‘Do I so?'

‘Let go of me, oaf.'

‘You heard the lady,' said a voice behind them.

Both of them turned in surprise to see an imposing figure standing there, a grizzled giant carrying an axe. He surveyed them calmly enough, but his expression was utterly uncompromising. Elgiva had not thought ever to be thankful for the presence of a Viking, but now she breathed a sigh of relief. However, Sweyn was unwilling to give up his prey so easily.

‘Mind your own business, Ironfist.'

‘This is my business. The woman belongs to Wulfrum. Now let her go.'

For a few moments his steady gaze held that of Sweyn. The cold eyes spoke of anger, but he released his hold on her arm.

‘You should return to your bower, lady,' said Ironfist.

Elgiva wasn't about to argue. Throwing him a brief glance, she hastened away, aware that both men watched her departure. She had scarcely taken a dozen paces when another familiar figure hove into sight. Startled, she checked mid-stride, unable to go forwards or back.

Wulfrum surveyed her in surprise, noting her evident unease, and then glanced over her shoulder towards Ironfist and Sweyn, now some yards distant. The berserker threw him a mocking smile and then turned and strolled away. The giant watched him go.

Wulfrum frowned and his gaze returned to the girl, looking closer now. ‘Are you all right, Elgiva? Has Sweyn been bothering you?'

Her face, pale before, turned a warmer shade. ‘No.'

‘You're a poor liar, my lady. What happened?'

‘It was nothing. Hot air.'

‘Did he lay hands on you?'

Elgiva forced herself to meet his eye. The last thing she needed now was a confrontation between Wulfrum and Sweyn. ‘Ironfist dealt with it, my lord.'

‘Did he so?'

‘Please…it was nothing.'

‘I'll decide that.'

‘Hasn't there been enough strife already?' The words came out with unwonted force. She drew a deep breath. ‘I beg you, let there be no more of it.'

He heard the distress in her voice, but it was the power of those amber eyes that arrested him most. In them he read anxiety and distrust. Did she fear that he might lay the blame at her door? Knowing what Sweyn was capable of and knowing of Elgiva's detestation of him, Wulfrum did not think for a moment that she would have anything to do with the man. Whatever had occurred had shaken her, but it was clear she didn't
want him to pursue the matter and that to do so would add to her distress. He was loath to do that. Rather he wanted to say something to alleviate it, but the situation was new to him and he found himself at a loss. Better to let the matter lie, at least as far as she was concerned. He could always speak to Ironfist later.

‘It is not safe to be abroad. Go back to the bower, Elgiva, and stay there.'

For all it was a command, the tone was gentler than she had expected and surprise rendered her silent, merely inclining her head in acknowledgement of his words. Then she walked away. With a wry smile he watched her go, well aware of the alacrity with which she left. He would have liked to find a reason to detain her and it was in his mind to call her back, but if he did she would obey only because she must. It was clear she took no pleasure in his company. But, then, why should she? He sighed, wondering why it should matter. It never had before.

 

Glad to be out of that unsettling presence, Elgiva let out the breath she had been holding. Wulfrum had been quite gentle on this occasion but he was still a conqueror, a fact that must not be forgotten. As for the other, she could still feel the imprint of Sweyn's fingers on her flesh. Chilling to think what might have happened if Ironfist hadn't appeared on the scene. She recalled his words:
The woman belongs to Wulfrum
. The thought occurred then that Ironfist hadn't come along by chance. The earl guarded what was his. She had no doubt he would fight to keep it too, fight and kill. Shivering now, she hurried back to the sanctuary of the bower and closed the door, wanting to shut out the Viking presence at least for a while.

A few minutes later Osgifu appeared and Elgiva explained what Leofwine had told her. The older woman heard her with mounting concern.

‘Somehow we must help those men. There have been enough deaths here.'

It was exactly what had been going through Elgiva's mind. ‘How are we to get out though? The earl's guards are vigilant.'

Men had been posted outside the women's bower, as well as at the gate to Ravenswood and at intervals along the palisade. No one now could come or go undetected.

‘In truth, I don't know.'

‘There must be a way.'

Elgiva was thinking hard. The plan had better be a good one. She had no desire to lead Wulfrum's men to the fugitives or to be caught and dragged ignominiously before him to face another interrogation.

Osgifu broke into her thoughts. ‘A simple disguise might serve.'

‘A disguise? How? Surely the guards would never fall for it.'

‘They might, if it were done subtly. People generally see what they wish to see. The guards are no different in that respect, I think.'

‘What is in your mind?'

Osgifu explained. Elgiva listened and smiled. It was a simple idea but for that reason it might just work.

‘I will speak with Hilda,' Osgifu went on. ‘We'll need her help. In the meantime let us hope Wulfrum doesn't decide to visit the women's bower. That would be more than a bit inconvenient. He's not a man to cross.'

‘What the earl doesn't know won't hurt him.'

‘True.' Osgifu donned her old grey mantle and pulled up the hood. ‘Happily this weather suits our purpose.'

The spring had been cool and showery and it had been raining intermittently all day. It was a perfect reason to wear a hood and one drawn forwards over the face as now. Elgiva watched her leave and then set about gathering up those things they would most likely need.

 

A short time later Osgifu returned with Hilda also clad in a grey mantle with the hood drawn up. She doffed the outer garment and helped Elgiva to put it on.

‘God send you can help Hunfirth, my lady.'

‘Amen to that.' Elgiva slipped the leather bag containing her things beneath her cloak. It was small enough to escape detection. Then she drew up her hood. Even a cursory glance would not mistake Hilda's tawny locks for her own gold ones. Pulling the cloth forwards to hide her face, Elgiva nodded to her companions.

Osgifu turned to Hilda. ‘You must wait here till we return.'

‘I shall. The children will be safe enough meanwhile. I've left them with Acca.'

It was a happy choice. Acca might be getting on in years, but she was kind and a most trustworthy servant besides.

Elgiva smiled. ‘It is well.'

‘My lady, you must use this chance to get away.' Hilda regarded her earnestly. ‘Get far away into the forest where the conquerors will never be able to find you.'

‘And leave you to their tender mercies in my place?'

‘It does not matter.'

‘It matters to me, Hilda. We have seen what cruelties they practise and I would not have anyone suffer at their hands again.' Elgiva squeezed the girl's arm. ‘I will give what help I can to Hunfirth and return as soon as may be. Do you stay here meanwhile?'

Hilda nodded. Then, with swift-beating heart, Elgiva followed Osgifu from the bower. The guard outside glanced their way, but made no move to stop them, having seen two identically dressed women go in before. They walked away, resisting the temptation to hurry, and made for the gate. It was open to allow the normal traffic in and out and, though the guards kept an eye on those who came and went, they saw nothing suspicious in two more servant women going about their business.

Only when they were past these first obstacles did Elgiva breathe more easily. However, they could not afford complacency, for the Vikings kept a presence in the village too. At the smithy Elfric joined them and from there they followed the path that led towards the woodland. The rain had slackened a little, but the chill was penetrating and for that reason most people had sought shelter. Elgiva took a covert look around but could see no sign of any Danes. Belike they were within doors too. Fortunately the smithy was on the edge of the village; from there it was but a short distance to the trees. As they walked they looked about the while to ascertain that they were not followed.

In spite of the potential danger Elgiva felt her heart lift to be in the open air again, to breathe the welcome scent of damp earth and leaf mould, to see on every bough the glad new leaf appearing, wreathing the branches in a mist of green. The forest held a promise of freedom. She knew its secret places, knew she could hide herself there with ease and, equally, knew she never would. Her word was given and she would not break it. Thus with unerring steps she made her way along the familiar paths towards her goal.

 

It was perhaps a matter of half a league to the ancient dolmens, three great monoliths topped by another, stained and weathered, greened with moss and lichen, and so old none could say how they came there. A little further on was a rocky outcrop in the trees, where lay the cave they sought.

As they neared the place they slowed and she heard Elfric whistle softly twice. At his signal a man emerged from the cave, a drawn sword in his hand. When he saw who it was, he lowered the weapon.