скачать книгу бесплатно
His men exchanged quizzical glances but, though Wulfgar noted it, he continued to eye the smith steadily.
‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘A man should keep his word. We’ll wait.’
Ethelwald nodded. ‘In that case I’ll do what I can.’
They left him then and made their way across to the carpenter. Ceadda, too, had a task in hand but, on hearing that the newcomers required only tools and would do the work themselves, he readily agreed to let them use his premises.
‘Good. I’ll leave you men to talk, then.’ Anwyn took hold of Eyvind’s hand and then turned to go. Instead she encountered gentle resistance.
‘Mother, can I stay and watch? I won’t get in the way, I promise.’
Anwyn hesitated. Seeing it, Ina interjected. ‘I’ll keep an eye on him, my lady.’ He glanced at their visitors. ‘Make sure he comes to no harm.’
‘All right.’
Eyvind’s face lit with a smile. ‘I promise I’ll be good.’
She returned the smile and squeezed his shoulder gently. ‘See that you are.’
For a brief moment she looked over his head and her gaze met Lord Wulfgar’s. The blue eyes held a gleam of amusement.
‘We’ll all be good,’ he said. ‘I promise.’
Anwyn fought the urge to laugh. There was something about that deadpan expression which was both provoking and enigmatic. Unable to think of a suitable reply and all too conscious of that penetrating gaze, she decided that the wisest course lay in dignified retreat.
The men worked steadily, but it was a hot and arduous task. They were not at all sorry when, an hour or so later, a servant appeared with a jug of ale. Wulfgar acknowledged a moment of disappointment that Lady Anwyn had not brought it herself, but then mentally upbraided himself. Why should she? There must be a dozen tasks awaiting her attention within doors. She had kept her word and let them use the workshops; they had no further claim on her time.
The delay with the iron work was a nuisance, but there wasn’t much to be done about that. Rollo would just have to wait. If he didn’t like it, that was too bad. No doubt they’d make up for lost time with a series of successful raids later. Not that they lacked for wealth. Previous expeditions had proved lucrative enough. We could retire soon … Hermund had been right about that. Retirement from adventuring meant putting down roots again, staying in one place. Wulfgar smiled in self-mockery. It wasn’t going to happen. He was already seven and twenty, long past the time when he might have remarried. Not that he had ever felt the least inclination to do so. In any case, a mercenary’s life was not suited to such responsibilities. His choices now did not hurt innocents. The decisions he made invariably carried a degree of danger but, in the long run, they were likely to benefit his crew. They knew the risks and accepted them. Grown men were not vulnerable in the same ways as women and children, a lesson he had learned too late.
He was drawn from his thoughts by the sensation of being watched. Looking up, he met the child’s eyes. Immediately the boy looked away. Wulfgar smiled, but said nothing. Although the lad was curious, he was also shy. Nothing would be gained by trying to force his confidence. How old was he? Four? Five, perhaps? Too young to have started military training yet, at all events. If he lived so long. Life was precarious, especially for the young. Had that not been clearly demonstrated to him?
‘You’ve got a ship, haven’t you?’
As the boy’s voice recalled him, Wulfgar took a deep breath. ‘That’s right. She’s called the Sea Wolf.’
‘What’s wrong with her?’
‘She was damaged in a storm. Her sail and rudder need mending.’
Eyvind listened attentively. ‘Is she fast?’
‘Very. A warship needs to be.’
‘Have you been in lots of battles?’
‘Quite a few.’
‘Were you scared?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘Did you kill people?’
‘Aye, when they tried to kill me.’
Eyvind nodded slowly. Then he looked past Wulfgar and smiled. His companion turned and, with pleasurable surprise, saw Lady Anwyn standing there.
‘I’ve brought you more ale,’ she said, ‘and a platter of bread and meat. You must be hungry by now.’
As soon as he saw the food Wulfgar realised he was. His men must be feeling the same. ‘Thank you. It is most welcome.’
She set the platter and jug down on a bench and then held out a hand to Eyvind. ‘Come.’
He tucked his hand in hers and then looked back at his erstwhile companion. ‘Can I come and see your ship?’
‘If you wish,’ he replied. ‘But first you had better ask your mother.’
Eyvind looked up her. ‘May I? Please?’
Anwyn hesitated. These men were strangers and, though they had shown no ill intent, she did not know how far they were to be trusted.
Her anxiety did not pass unnoticed. Wulfgar met and held her gaze. ‘Perhaps you would like to come too, my lady?’ The blue gaze held a distinct gleam. ‘With as many of your escort as you wish to bring.’
Rosy warmth bloomed in her cheeks. ‘I don’t know.’
‘What don’t you know?’ he asked.
‘We’ve barely met and, well, I …’
‘You suspect I might hold the boy to ransom, or carry you off, perhaps?’ He surveyed her keenly and the gleam intensified. ‘Now that I come to think of it, the notion is most pleasing.’
‘Pleasing? To whom?’
‘To me, certainly.’
‘So that you could sell me for a profit later?’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t sell you,’ he replied and was gratified to see her blush deepen. ‘However, the situation doesn’t arise since I am not in a position to do any such thing. You are therefore quite safe.’
Safe was not the word she would have chosen just then. Nor was she entirely sure how much of what he said had been spoken entirely in jest. The expression in his eyes was sufficient to bring back all her former self-consciousness.
Seeing her indecision, he smiled faintly. ‘Should I not receive the benefit of the doubt?’
Anwyn was silent, trying to order her scattered thoughts. He was an avowed mercenary, a pirate. She had known him less than a day. How far could she trust him? Eyvind looked up at her anxiously.
‘Please, Mother?’
‘I think you’re outvoted,’ said Wulfgar.
She threw up her hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘All right. I give in.’
Eyvind jumped up and down with glee. ‘Can we go now?’ ‘Why not?’ replied Wulfgar. ‘No time like the present.’
In spite of his suggestion that she might bring a large escort, Anwyn contented herself with Ina and half-a-dozen others. As the ship couldn’t go anywhere it seemed unlikely that Wulfgar would do anything untoward. They rode back to the bay, she having lent him a horse for the purpose. When they arrived it was to the sound of hammering and banging. Men swarmed all over the deck and the sand where the striped sail was still spread above the tide line. Eyvind took it all in wide-eyed.
Beside him, Anwyn quietly surveyed the vessel’s sleek lines. Built for speed and manoeuvrability, she would descend on an enemy like a hawk on its prey. Resistance would be swiftly overcome. Her crew were hunters, too, like the man who led them, the stranger beside her now. The knowledge sent a frisson down her spine.
‘A fine ship,’ she observed.
‘Would you care to take a closer look?’ he asked.
Eyvind regarded him eagerly. ‘Can I go on board?’
‘Of course.’
The child looked at his mother, waiting.
‘You may go.’ She looked at Ina. ‘Stay with him.’
The old warrior dismounted and lifted the boy down in his turn. Wulfgar summoned Hermund.
‘Go on ahead and show our guests around.’
‘Delighted, I’m sure.’ Hermund gestured towards the vessel and the three of them set off.
Wulfgar turned to Anwyn. ‘My lady?’
Seeing little other choice now, Anwyn dismounted. He followed suit and once again she was forcefully reminded how powerful he was, in every sense of the word. It did little for her equanimity. Neither did that unfathomable blue gaze.
‘Shall we?’ He glanced towards the ship.
She inclined her head and they set off together, he shortening his stride to match hers. Although he made no move to touch her, his closeness set her skin tingling. Yet what she felt was not fear. It was a strange mixture of anticipation and excitement.
‘How old is Eyvind?’ he asked.
‘Five now.’
‘It must have been hard for him to lose his father.’
‘He has Ina.’
It wasn’t what he expected to hear, and the words elicited a swift sideways glance. However, her attention was apparently on the three in front.
‘A woman alone is vulnerable, too,’ he said.
‘I have protection.’
‘A dozen men?’
‘There are plenty more.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘Ah, yes, I had forgotten—forty more—hiding in the dunes.’
It drew a rueful smile. ‘All right, I fibbed about that part, but there really are more than a dozen men.’
‘I’m glad to hear it, given the warlike nature of your neighbours.’
‘Grymar was presumptuous.’
‘You are charitable.’
‘I cannot afford to be at odds with his master.’
‘That would be Lord Ingvar?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is he so powerful, then?’
‘Powerful enough to make me want to keep the peace.’
She had spoken matter of factly, but he heard the seriousness beneath and understood it. However, she did not elaborate further.
Anwyn’s attention was claimed now by the ship. It was an arresting sight. She guessed the vessel to be roughly seventy feet long and perhaps fifteen or sixteen feet wide. Clinker built, her strakes were formed of solid oak planks fastened with tree nails and iron bolts and caulked with a cord of plaited animal hair. Anwyn’s gaze moved on, taking in the wooden planks that comprised the deck; the tall mast; the rowers’ benches and wooden storage lockers; the circular rowlocks in the main strake and the great oars—sixteen to a side. However, it was the magnificent prow that seized her imagination; a piece of oak intricately carved in the likeness of a snarling wolf.
‘She’s beautiful.’
‘She’s not the largest vessel afloat, but she’s swift enough and handles well.’
‘How long have you had her?’
‘Three years or so. We captured her as a prize of war.’
‘Oh.’ Looking at that carved prow again, Anwyn was forcefully reminded of the company in which she found herself. ‘You must have taken many prizes over the years.’
‘Enough,’ he replied.
The word was casually spoken, but it sent another tremor through her. In their way these men were every bit as dangerous as Ingvar’s war band. Though she said nothing, he sensed her unease.
‘What are you afraid of, Anwyn?’
The use of her name brought the warm blood to her cheeks, but she could detect nothing in his manner that suggested over-familiarity. On the contrary, it had sounded natural on his lips.
‘I … nothing.’
‘Something, I think.’ The tone was quiet, inviting confidence. Her confusion mounted.
‘I hardly know myself. Perhaps it is because I have never been so close to a warship before.’
