takes his orders directly from Ingvar.’
‘Just so, my lady.’
The implication was disturbing. Under Ina’s stewardship her late husband’s men patrolled and guarded Drakensburgh, and they had no need of help from Ingvar. The fact that he had taken it upon himself to send an armed force onto her land had ramifications she did not care for. It was as though he were already adopting the mantle of lord protector, a role she had no intention of granting him.
‘This bodes ill,’ she said.
Ina nodded. ‘Where Grymar’s concerned it never bodes anything else. That one would slit his grandmother’s throat for the fun of it.’
‘This must be a show of strength. He cannot seriously intend to fight.’ She hesitated. ‘Can he?’
‘I have a gut feeling that’s exactly what he does intend, my lady.’
Wulfgar watched the war band approaching, mentally estimating their number. His jaw tightened. There must be fifty of them. His own force was larger and he had every faith in their prowess, but any confrontation was likely to be bloody and expensive. However, since the ship was effectively crippled there was no real choice. He glanced at Hermund.
‘Have the men fall in.’
‘Aye, my lord.’
They formed up alongside him, waiting.
‘Let them start it if they must,’ said Wulfgar, ‘but after they have make them regret it.’
The words were greeted with grim smiles as each man there eyed the advancing foe with shrewd, appraising eyes. Fists tightened on shield straps and sword hilts.
Anwyn felt a knot of apprehension form in her stomach. Even from a distance now there was no mistaking what was about to happen. She looked across at Ina.
‘I will not have a blood bath on my land though a dozen Ingvars wished it.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Stop it, of course.’
‘A laudable aim, my lady, but you will have noticed that together they number well over a hundred while we …’
‘Yes, I know. However, this bay abuts onto my land, not theirs.’
‘True, but I don’t quite see …’
‘We have right on our side, Ina.’
‘Oh, well, naturally that makes all the difference.’
‘Exactly.’ Anwyn turned in the saddle. ‘Jodis, stay here and look after Eyvind. Ina, come with me.’
With that she nudged her mount forward and cantered away across the sand. Ina stared after her in disbelief. Then, setting his jaw, he rode off in her wake.
Watching the oncoming force, Hermund frowned. ‘Have we fetched up at a local rallying point by any chance?’
‘Could be.’ Wulfgar followed the line of his gaze. ‘We do seem to have kicked a hornets’ nest, don’t we?’
‘How in the name of the Nidhoggr could Big Mouth have this many friends?’ muttered Thrand.
Beorn shook his head. ‘Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?’
Wulfgar made no reply, mentally estimating the distance between themselves and the advancing warriors. Seventy yards … fifty yards … forty. He watched as the line of their spears shifted from the vertical to the fore.
‘Here we go,’ muttered Hermund.
Beside him, Wulfgar drew his sword. ‘All right, lads—’
He broke off, seeing a blur of movement from the corner of his eye. The blur became a galloping horse. Moments later the rider reined hard and the animal plunged to a halt between the two opposing forces. Almost simultaneously a woman’s voice rang out.
‘Stop this at once! All of you!’
The oncoming warriors stopped in their tracks. All eyes turned towards the speaker. Wulfgar mentally registered a slender figure in a deep blue gown. It was partly concealed by a grey mantle over which a thick red-gold braid flowed like a river of fire. Then she turned in his direction and for a moment he forgot to breathe.
‘Thor’s blood,’ muttered Thrand.
Beorn stared. ‘Am I really seeing what I think I’m seeing?’
‘No, you’re dreaming, Brother.’
‘Don’t wake me then, I beg.’
Wulfgar could understand the thinking, although clearly the woman before him was a living being and not a dream. Before he could pursue the thought she spoke again.
‘There will be no bloodshed here!’
Hermund leaned on his spear and his craggy features split in a broad grin. ‘Well, Frigg alone knows where we are, but it was worth coming just for this.’
Wulfgar’s eyes gleamed and he relaxed the grip on his sword hilt. ‘You never said a truer word, my friend.’ Even as he answered his mind was buzzing. Who was she? Why had she intervened? What manner of woman would dare to come between two opposing war bands? Not only dare to come between, but do it in the expectation of being obeyed? His curiosity mounted.
Ignoring the collective attention focused on her, Anwyn turned to confront Grymar. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
He jerked his head towards the ship’s crew some twenty yards distant. ‘My men and I were about to get rid of these scurvy intruders, my lady.’
‘On whose orders?’
‘Those of Lord Ingvar.’
‘These are my lands,’ she replied. ‘Lord Ingvar has no jurisdiction here.’
Grymar reddened. ‘He desires that we protect you, my lady.’
‘That is most kind of him, but I have my own protection.’ She gestured towards Ina. ‘Your help is not required.’
‘One old man? He couldn’t defend an argument.’
‘Put the matter to the test, oaf, and we’ll see what I can defend,’ growled Ina.
‘I wouldn’t take advantage.’
‘You’d be foolish to try,’ replied Anwyn, ‘especially as there are forty more of my men waiting in the dunes yonder.’
A muscle spasmed Ina’s cheek. However, Grymar missed it, darting a glance to the place she had indicated. The dunes were quiet, the only movement the wind in the marram grass. He regarded her suspiciously.
‘There’s no-one over there.’
Ina raised a grizzled
