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Authors: Joanna Fulford

The Viking's Defiant Bride (9 page)

BOOK: The Viking's Defiant Bride
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‘Elfric. God be thanked.'

Elgiva recognised the speaker, the man called Brekka who had been one of her brother's retainers. He turned to her now and inclined his head respectfully.

‘My lady, you take a great risk in coming here, but I thank you and Osgifu too. Hunfirth is in a poor way. I have done what I can for him, but it is little enough.'

They followed him through the narrow entrance into the wider cave beyond. In the dim light they could see the injured man lying on the hard earth floor. Elgiva knelt beside her companion and they made a careful examination of their patient. She knew Hunfirth by sight, but her heart misgave her as she looked at the man's pallor and heard his ragged shallow breathing. An examination of his wounds did nothing to restore her confidence. Apart from a deep sword thrust to his side, there was the arrow lodged in his shoulder and the signs were that the wound was already festering.

‘This arrow must come out or he has no chance,' said Osgifu. ‘Even then the outcome is doubtful given how much blood he has already lost.'

‘He will die if you do not treat him,' replied Brekka.

Osgifu nodded. ‘That is so.' She took the leather bag from beneath her cloak and began to get out her things.

 

It took some time to perform the task, given the limitations of the place and the basic nature of the equipment they had been able to bring, but eventually it was done. The patient had lost consciousness long since. In her heart Elgiva doubted whether he would survive the night. She turned to Brekka.

‘If Hunfirth dies, you must not linger here.'

He shook his head. ‘If it comes to that, my lady, I shall seek the other Saxon fugitives and join with them.'

‘Enough blood has been spilt. I beg you to save yourself.'

‘If I do, it will only be to fight another day.'

Seeing it was useless to argue, she and Osgifu gathered their things and prepared to leave. Outside the air was colder and the grey sky darkening. Elgiva realised then how much time they had spent in the cave. It was imperative now to get
back before they were missed. They said their farewells to Brekka and retraced their steps, coming at last to the edge of the trees. Elfric looked around to check that the coast was clear. He need not have worried: it had begun to rain again and the place seemed deserted. In a little while it would be dark.

They reached the smithy, expecting to see Leofwine waiting there. However, the lean-to was dark with no sign of the smith. Elgiva frowned, feeling suddenly uneasy. It was too quiet. Something of this had occurred to her companions too and she could sense their nervousness.

‘Go, my lady,' said Elfric. ‘It is not safe to linger here.'

She was about to reply when a muted sound stopped the words, the sinister scrape of metal on stone. Before she could utter any warning, half-a-dozen dark shapes detached themselves from the shadows of the building and in moments the three of them were surrounded by armed men. Elgiva drew in a sharp breath as she recognised Ironfist. Taking a firm hold on her arm, he turned to his companions.

‘Take those two and chain them with the others.'

Elfric and Osgifu were hustled away. With beating heart Elgiva looked up at her captor, but the giant's face was impassive as he drew her inexorably with him. Instead of following the rest, he peeled off at a tangent towards the women's bower. When they reached it, he shoved open the door and pushed her inside. In the dim light she could see the tall dark-clad figure before the fire. On hearing them enter, the figure turned round. Elgiva's mouth dried. Wulfrum!

‘Good evening, my lady. I have been looking forward to your return for some time. Perhaps you would care to tell me where you have been.'

For a moment they regarded each other in silence, but even in the firelight she could see the anger in his face. She paled, heart thumping hard against her ribs, but she was thinking fast. How had he found out? What unlucky chance had led him
here? There was no way of knowing what information he had already extracted from Leofwine and Hilda, but some instinct warned her not to lie to him, that to do so would make matters worse. Behind her she was aware of Ironfist's bulk blocking the door, cutting off all possibility of escape. She took a deep breath.

‘Osgifu and I went to help a wounded man.'

‘What man? Where?'

‘Leofwine's brother, Hunfirth. He was wounded in the battle for Ravenswood and he took refuge in the forest.'

‘How many are with him?'

‘Just one.'

‘Where are they?'

‘Where we left them.'

‘Don't test my patience further, Elgiva. Where are they?'

‘I cannot tell you that.'

‘Cannot or will not?'

‘These are my people. I will not betray them.'

‘You'll tell me,' he replied.

For the first time she noticed the coiled whip at his side and felt her legs tremble beneath her. Wielded properly, the lash could cut a groove in solid wood. She had seen what it could do to human flesh. He could not really be intending to use it. Her eyes sought for any clue in his expression that might suggest otherwise, but they found none. Then she remembered his response the day she had tried to run and a faint sheen of perspiration broke out on her forehead despite the cold without. The Viking knew how to punish and wouldn't hesitate, either. Elgiva bit her lip, clenching her fists at her sides to stop them from trembling. Come what may, she could not betray Hunfirth and Brekka. Let the warlord do his worst—she would never tell him. Her chin lifted and she met his gaze.

‘I am a healer, lord. It is my part to save men, not to destroy them. Leofwine asked for my help and I gave it willingly. As
I gave it to your men too. As I would to any human being who needed it. If that is a crime, I am sorry for it.'

‘No, that is not a crime. Disobeying my orders is.'

‘I was not aware you had given any orders about letting wounded men die.'

‘Don't try to twist my words, wench.'

‘I had no thought of doing so, lord.'

‘It seems you have plenty of willing accomplices too.'

‘Leofwine sought to aid his brother. Osgifu and Hilda helped me because I asked it. They are not to blame. If your anger must fall on anyone, let it fall on me.'

Wulfrum's gaze burned into her own, but Elgiva did not flinch. Inwardly she thought he might kill her.

‘You may live to regret those words.'

‘I beg you, lord, do not hurt them. They could not have done other than they did.'

‘They show a reckless loyalty to you, that's for sure.'

‘Loyalty is not a crime, either.'

Wulfrum's jaw clenched even as he admired the breathtaking audacity of the reply. He had to admit the little vixen did not want for courage. Even though she knew her present peril full well, she had answered him calmly enough and he had discerned no trace of fear in the unwavering amber eyes. She hadn't lied to him, either, although she was undoubtedly smart enough to realise he would have learned the truth long since from her confederates. By rights he should thrash her now along with all the others in this latest exploit. He was still tempted.

When he had visited the bower earlier and found her gone, his anger had known no bounds. Hilda, on the receiving end of it, had very soon told him the plan, a tale corroborated in part by the guards. Then Ironfist had remembered seeing her speaking with the smith earlier that day, on her return from the Saxon funerals. Wulfrum had gone to the smithy with half-a-dozen
men and, in a very short time, had all the information he wanted from Leofwine. He had been able to believe the tale about the injured man, but certainly not the part about Elgiva's intention to return. She had got out of Ravenswood with a head start and would surely make good her escape. Yet both Hilda and Leofwine evidently had complete faith in her word. Even with his anger at white heat it gave him pause. Against his better judgement he had not ordered immediate pursuit, but instead had waited. In the meantime he had had the two Saxon miscreants chained with the dogs in the kennel where they could do no more mischief and could think at leisure of their probable fate.

Unable to follow his thought, Elgiva quaked.

‘We will test that loyalty,' he said. ‘We shall try how far it will go under the lash. I think it will not be long before your friends tell me what I wish to know.'

Elgiva's colour ebbed and tears welled in her eyes. ‘Please don't hurt them. They have done nothing….'

‘Then tell me where the fugitives are.'

‘I cannot. You must know that.'

He took a step closer. Elgiva swallowed hard, but remained still, aware of Ironfist just behind.

‘This is the last time I shall ask you. Where are they, Elgiva?'

Seeing she remained silent, Wulfrum looked beyond her to Ironfist.

‘Go to the hall and find out,' he said, handing the giant the whip.

‘Consider it done, lord.

With sinking heart Elgiva heard Ironfist leave and then she was alone with Wulfrum, who regarded her with that in his face which made her heart thump unpleasantly hard.

‘Please don't do this,' she said then.

‘If you were truly concerned for the welfare of others you would have considered the consequences of disobedience.'

‘Then punish me, not them.'

The amber eyes glistened with unshed tears. He wondered if she would weep and doubted it somehow. He had cause to know her courage and her pride.

‘Believe me, Elgiva, you will learn to obey me.' He paused. ‘The lives of your accomplices will be forfeit if you attempt to leave Ravenswood again without my knowledge. There will be no other warning.'

Her face was very pale, but she faced him, dread vying with resentment, choosing her words with care. ‘Then you do not propose to kill them?'

‘Not this time, but their future well-being depends on you.'

‘I understand.'

‘Do you?' He drew closer. ‘I hope so.'

It took every bit of self-control for her not to take a step backwards. He towered over her, seeming even larger in the confined space. His expression sent a chill through her.

‘In the meantime you will be confined to the women's bower until further notice.'

The implications began to dawn. ‘But what of the injured? And Ulric and Pybba?'

‘You should have thought of that earlier,' he replied.

‘But, my lord, I—'

‘I have said. You will do as you're told.' His keen gaze saw the glint of anger in her eyes before they were veiled. ‘Otherwise I shall thrash you to within an inch of your life.'

Her hands clenched with helpless ire, but she knew it would avail her nothing to argue. In his present mood he might well carry out the threat and she knew already the weight of his hand.

‘How long must I remain here?'

‘For as long as it pleases me.'

Elgiva fought the temptation to tell him the thoughts uppermost in her mind. However, it did not need a seer to read them for anger was writ large on her face.

He lifted an eyebrow and regarded her with a speculative eye. ‘Perhaps I should take your clothes too, just to make sure.'

Elgiva's face registered an interesting variety of emotions. Wulfrum smiled, watching a wonderful rosy blush rise from her neck to her cheeks. Then he waited. Seeing that smile, she knew beyond doubt that the knave was enjoying this. It was in her mind to call him every kind of scurvy rogue in creation, but she bit back the words that rose to her lips—in truth, she dared offer no more provocation, knowing now he would do just what he threatened. The brute had no shame.

As a matter of fact, Wulfrum had himself well in hand. The idea of Elgiva without her clothes was a heady one, but he put it aside, for now. His time would come. In the meantime he would leave her to think about the folly of wilful disobedience. He strolled to the door.

‘I'll bid you a good evening, my lady.'

Elgiva glared after the departing figure and saw the door close after him. There followed muffled words as he spoke to the guards outside, and then silence. For some minutes she paced the floor in helpless fury and frustration. Her heart was filled with dread to think of the possible fate of her companions, but she dared not try to find out. She had been so preoccupied with helping Hunfirth and Brekka that she had put others at risk. Pacing the floor, she tried to think. When she had calmed a little she realised she need not fear for Ulric and Pybba. They would be safe enough for surely Wulfrum would not punish the helpless for her fault. Wulfrum again! Everything came back to Wulfrum. Could she trust him in this regard? She had to hope so. Throwing herself on to the bed in helpless ire, she felt the awful truth sink in. She was exactly where he intended her to be and she would be there at his pleasure. Elgiva punched the mattress hard, unsure whether she was angrier with him or herself.

BOOK: The Viking's Defiant Bride
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