The Viking's Defiant Bride Read Online Free PDF Page B

her arm about the three-year-old Ulric, who clutched her skirt and bit a trembling lip. Around them the women servants sobbed.
    In the hall below were gathered a handful of men left for their defence. Violent banging on the barred outer doors announced the invaders’ intent and the great timbers shuddered. Elgiva knew it could only be a matter of time before they broke through for above the din she heard the sinister thunk of axes against timber. A woman screamed. Minutes later the door gave way amid a roar of voices and the clash of weapons as the defenders tried to stem the tide of invaders. Shouts andshrieks filled the hall. More invaders poured in through the shattered doorway. Several made for the stairway in pursuit of plunder. Elgiva heard the heavy footfalls and men’s voices. Someone tried the chamber door and found it barred. Then she heard a man’s voice.
    â€˜Break it down!’
    There followed the fearsome sound of axes in wood. Hilda let out a stifled sob of terror. The baby began to cry and in desperation she tried to quiet it, while little Ulric looked on, wide-eyed with fright. Elgiva looked from them to the door, which shook under the assault. In another minute the first blades were visible through a hole in the timber, a hole that grew larger with each blow. A few more moments and they would be through. With beating heart she backed away to the far side of the room, watching the splintering wood in helpless horror, struggling to control her growing fear. With her back to the wall, she closed her hand round the hilt of the sword and, taking a deep breath, drew the blade from the sheath.
    As she did so the door burst asunder and the first three men fell into the room, followed by half a dozen more. Their greedy gaze fell immediately on the cowering group in front of them and they strode forwards, seizing upon the women servants. One man grabbed hold of Hilda, who clutched the baby in one arm and the terrified Ulric in the other. Osgifu strove to come between, but a heavy blow sent her reeling back into the wall. She hit her head and fell, stunned. Hilda shrieked, struggling wildly against the hands that held her, her screams mingling with those of the baby.
    Outraged to see such treatment meted out to the weak and helpless, Elgiva stepped forwards.
    â€˜Leave them alone! Let them go!’
    It proved a futile protest, but the words drew attention from a different quarter and Elgiva found herself confronting another armed man. Tall and well made, fair of hair and beard, hemight have been handsome save for the thin cruel lips drawn back in an indulgent sneer.
    â€˜Well now, what have we here?’
    Her face blazed with loathing and contempt and her hand tightened round the hilt of the sword.
    â€˜Viking scum! You would make war on women and helpless infants! Come, try your luck here! I’ll slit your belly and spill your yellow guts for you!’
    All eyes turned towards Elgiva, registering surprise, and then, on seeing the sword, amusement.
    â€˜Have a care, Sweyn,’ called one of his companions in mocking tones. ‘That one is a regular fire eater.’
    Sweyn bared his teeth in a smile, his cold grey gaze speculative. ‘A warrior maid, no less. One of Odin’s daughters, perhaps, and fluent in our tongue. That will be convenient when I give her instructions in bed.’
    Appreciative grins greeted the words and the speaker turned away for a moment to share the joke with his companions. Elgiva darted in for the attack. From the corner of his eye he saw the flashing blade aimed at him and leapt aside. The thrust that should have pierced his heart merely gashed his arm. Incredulous, he clapped his free hand to the wound, staring at the dripping blood, amid roars of laughter from the rest. Undeterred, Elgiva laid on with a will and for several moments Sweyn was forced to defend himself most dexterously before the onslaught, being driven back several paces. However, very