the messenger stepped forward. ‘Actually, Lord Vidar requested your presence in Banford.’
‘That’s madness.’ Lady Gwendolyn intervened. ‘Ellan can’t leave with the Scots about.’
‘I’m sorry, Lady, but it’s his order. There should be no Scots now. It seems that Godric and Galan have disappeared.’ He fell silent and didn’t say what they all were thinking—that her father and brother must have had something to do with the Scots’ presence on Alvey lands. Their disappearance was suspicious.
Lady Gwendolyn said, ‘Ellan knows nothing of their disappearance.’
Henrik shrugged, looking sheepish. ‘Nevertheless—’
‘It’s fine, Lady Gwendolyn,’ Ellan said. ‘I’ll go and answer his questions. I need to see Elswyth for myself anyway to make certain she is...’ She had meant to say well, but how could one be well after a kidnapping?
Lady Gwendolyn nodded in understanding and put her arm around her. ‘Of course.’
* * *
Ellan left with the contingent of warriors for Banford early the next morning. They took one of the smaller boats that she learned was called a karvi. She was surprised that it was smaller than the other ships the Danes owned. It seemed plenty large to her with around a dozen benches. However, she had never even been on a fishing boat before, so she distrusted the thing.
Henrik held her arm to help her to board. Her knees knocked together after she stepped aboard and felt the sway of the water beneath her.
‘You’ll be fine.’ He smiled in reassurance and she was happy to see that it was a genuine smile and not one born of contempt at her inexperience. ‘Sit here near the middle.’
She nodded and allowed him to guide her to the middle of the ship where she took a seat as the other men practically vaulted over the sides as if they had been born to the vessel. The dozen men took their places both on the benches in front of her and behind her. Two of Lady Gwendolyn’s warriors walked out into the water behind the longship, using their great strength to push them off. The boat glided on the surface of the river and then took off with a jolt as the men took hold of their oars and plunged the paddled ends into the murky water. Her stomach tumbled at the unfamiliar sensation of floating. Tilting her face up to the morning sun, she closed her eyes and imagined this was what a bird must feel when she flew. It was very freeing to have the cool air caressing her cheeks as she floated along with the rhythmic sounds of the oars cutting through the water, taking them closer to Banford with each stroke.
A snickering at her side brought her quickly back down to land. Opening her eyes, she glared at the source. Henrik had taken the seat beside her at mid-ship, the morning sun giving his hair a burnished halo.
‘It wasn’t my intention to disturb you.’ He gave her a crooked grin and it appeared to be friendly rather than impudent.
She nodded and decided to humour him. ‘’Tis my first time on a boat,’ she said, pulling the fur cloak Lady Gwendolyn had loaned her tighter about her shoulders.
‘I can tell. Let me help you. Look.’ He slapped his own shoulder and indicated that she should look at his back. ‘You’re sitting too stiffly. You’ll be sore by midday.’ He softened his shoulders a bit and his back bowed very slightly. ‘If you relax, you can allow yourself to drift with the river and its turns instead of fighting them.’
He was probably making too much of her posture, but placating him wouldn’t cost her anything, so she modelled his pose. Her hips immediately seemed to sink down a bit, making it easier to sway with the motion of the water. ‘It does help. Thank you.’
‘My name is Henrik.’ He smiled again.
‘Aye, I know. You’re one of Aevir’s men. Thank you, Henrik.’
The warrior was wide of shoulder with muscular arms, though he was a bit on the thin side, without the filled-out frame Aevir possessed, probably due to his youth. His nose was well formed and his mouth seemed to perpetually curve in a grin. His eyes were blue with specks of brown and perhaps set a smidge too far apart on his face, but he was still handsome. His beard was short and well kept, except it hadn’t filled in well yet. She gave him what she hoped passed for a smile, though she was still too concerned about Elswyth to feel much joy.
A flicker of interest appeared in his eyes, and his chest puffed out the slightest bit. ‘You’ve noticed me.’
She flushed. It was Aevir she had been busy noticing. She had seen Henrik many times sitting with Aevir or on the sparring field at his side. ‘I...I notice all the newcomers—’
He chuckled and said, ‘I’m only teasing you. I shouldn’t when you’re concerned for your sister.’
She nodded, but couldn’t resist her continued study of the man. No other Dane had been so friendly with her. He couldn’t be more than twenty winters. How old was Aevir, for that matter? Much to her consternation, her mind was able to instantly conjure up a perfect image of Aevir...just as it had every night as she lay in bed trying not to think of him. His face spoke of experience and a hint of bitter knowledge, but he wasn’t old. Perhaps twenty and five or so. Did five years make such a difference in a man? In many ways, Henrik was his complete opposite.
Henrik glanced back down at her and she dropped her gaze, lest she give encouragement to him.
‘Aevir has been kind to take me under his command.’
Realising that this might be an excellent opportunity to learn more about the Danes, as well as to keep her thoughts occupied so she didn’t worry constantly about Elswyth, she forced herself to talk to him and found that he was rather pleasant. Unlike some of the rowdier Danes, he seemed mellow and was easy to converse with. He wasn’t arrogant, though he didn’t mind boasting about the occasional battle, and he was quick to ask her questions about her own life. The conversation flowed so smoothly that it was afternoon before she knew it.
The warriors rowed the ship towards the muddy bank until one of the men in front jumped out to splash through the shallow water near the shore. He held a lead line and pulled them until the bottom of the ship jolted across the sandy bottom.
‘We are to take a break,’ Henrik responded to her questioning look. He blushed charmingly as he stood and gently took hold of her elbow to guide her over to the side of the ship. All of the other men seemed to be looking at her strangely. Henrik jumped over the side and took hold of her waist, turning neatly to place her on the shore so that she didn’t get her clothing wet. When she stood mutely wondering at the strange tinge of colour high on his cheeks, the pink turned to red. ‘You can...’ he gestured towards a copse of trees ‘...see to your needs.’
Her eyes widened as she finally understood that this stop was for her. Most of the other men had stayed in the boat. It was her turn to blush when she realised that they wouldn’t need to leave it to relieve themselves. She was probably the sole reason they had stopped. Turning blindly in embarrassment, she hurried to the thicket of trees and made certain that she was well hidden before seeing to her personal needs.
When she was nearly finished, a loud shout interrupted her and made her heart practically leap into her throat. It was a man, but the voice sounded too far away to be from one of the warriors accompanying her. A flurry of activity came from the vicinity of the ship as warriors came to their feet, their boots scraping across the wooden bottom. Ellan hurried to arrange her skirt, her breath coming in short gasps as she braced herself for some sort of attack.
Uncertainty churned in her stomach as she peeked around the tree. A second longship was approaching, coming from upstream, the direction their boat had been heading. This one seemed a bit bigger than the karvi. It was filled with Danes and at least a few Saxon warriors sprinkled in the mix. The man who stood in front was dressed in leathers and chainmail, not the everyday tunics and wool of the men who accompanied her. He was dressed for battle.
He called out again in the Norse tongue and Henrik called back. They spoke some sort of greeting, but there was a sense of