The Viking's Defiant Bride by Joanna Fulford

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.
    â€˜I will think of something, Leofwine, I promise. When I do, I will send word with Osgifu.’
    â€˜God bless you, my lady.’
    â€˜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.
    â€˜Not so fast, wench.’
    He lifted a hand towards her, but she stepped out of reach, her eyes raking him with scorn.
    â€˜Get out of my way.’
    His thin lips twisted in a smile, but it never reached his eyes. ‘Still high and mighty, Elgiva?’
    â€˜Let me pass.’
    â€˜We have some unfinished business, you and I.’
    Elgiva’s heart beat faster but she lifted her chin and stared him down.
    â€˜You and I have no business of any kind.’
    â€˜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.
    â€˜Afraid, my lady?’
    â€˜You flatter yourself.’
    â€˜Do I so?’
    â€˜Let go of me, oaf.’
    â€˜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.
    â€˜Mind your own business, Ironfist.’
    â€˜This is my business. The woman belongs to Wulfrum. Now let her go.’
    For a few moments his steady gaze held