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I got loads of reviews... many many thanks. They really do mean a lot. more please. I'm a review junkie... they make my muse work harder as well
The men jumped from the ship quickly. Riders were approaching them under a banner of truce, but armed and armoured. Connor and the crew had pulled on their own mail shirts and belted on swords and axes. These were not farmyard implements, but ones used to cleave bone and flesh. Olaf turned to William and pulled out a piece of rope.

‘You’ve changed so much in the eight months with us we’d better make sure they know who they’re paying the ransom for,’ he said with a laugh. He tied William’s hands together firmly, but made sure that the bonds weren’t cutting into his flesh. Connor and Xander had already leapt down onto the bank and the rest of the crew took places along both sides of the ship, stringing up their bows as they did so. Arrows stood at the ready but none were nocked into place: that was the work of seconds if there was any treachery.

Olaf helped William climb down, he was awkward with his hands bound but he made it with only minor skinning of his knuckles. Xander reached up and William’s bag was passed down carefully into the man’s hands. He gave it to William, ensuring that the Saxon had a good grip before relinquishing his hold. Each step changed William from one of the crew to the hostage that was being exchanged. Every step changed the men at his sides from friends to captors and enemies. Every step took him away from the life he wanted to the life he had to accept.

Two of the horsemen approached slowly, keeping their hands in view at all times. One was fully armed, the other was Brother Giles, William’s mother’s confessor. He recognised him immediately as he had known the man since he was a boy. It would be Giles’ task to confirm William’s identity before the money was handed over.

‘I sort of expected them to have horns or tails or something,’ the stranger on the horse said in a loud whisper, little realising that they spoke his language.

The churchman gave him a filthy look. It was that sort of idiotic idea that had kept these two peoples at war for over a hundred years. He kicked his horse slowly on and came close to where William was standing between Xander and Connor.

‘William, is that you?’ he asked in Saxon, hardly recognising the tall, good looking man in front of him. The boy had certainly grown up in the last four years.

‘Yes Brother Giles, it is: how’s my mother?’ Was William’s first question to the older man. In his heart William knew that if his mother was no more he would try and get back to Ingimund and home to Buffy: he had made a dreadful mistake in thinking that he belonged here.

‘She’s well and waiting for you in the city.’ He replied in the Saxon tongue. Xander and Connor gave no clue that they understood what was being said. William slackened his shoulders. He hadn’t realised how tense he had become.

‘Silver?’ Connor asked in broken and badly pronounced Latin, pushing William forward a little. It ensured that William was between the warrior and Xander.

Giles signalled over his shoulder. ’21 pounds in weight of good silver,’ he said as the chest was brought up and opened in front of them. Connor got out his larger scales and knelt down, counting and weighing the ingots.

‘84 ingots of pure silver.’ Connor picked up the chest in one hand and walked towards William.

‘Fare well, my father,’ he whispered as he walked past the man and continued back to his ship, Xander walking backwards to ensure no treachery. They were covered by the archers on board, but one wrong move now would result in a blood bath. He threw the chest up to Olaf who caught it and called the men to oars.

Connor and Xander jumped aboard still covered by their own bowmen, and before the Saxons could gather their wits they were back into the centre of the river, heaving on their oars and using the tide to rush them towards the sea.

William looked at the ship leaving, taking part of him with it. And turned towards the men in front of him.

Brother Giles pulled out a knife to cut the bonds that tied him and within a short time William found himself on a horse and headed back to the city across the river.

The priest was quiet as they made their way across the ford and up the hill to the broken down gatehouse. William looked at the huge stone walls. This place was old, built by the Romans but nearly deserted: it would make the most amazing market place for Saxon and Viking alike. His people could have the land, Connor’s the sea. It could make them all a fortune in trade.

The hall he was taken to was obviously newly built. It hadn’t even been thoroughly daubed yet. But the only thing that William saw was his mother standing with a couple of women he didn’t recognise. Brother Giles excused himself and went to find Godwin, Lord Athelstan’s man who had helped them: he would report the invaders gone and the boy, man, returned in good health. Giles worried for William. He hoped that he had been treated with some respect whilst he had been held prisoner; he didn’t look like he’d been tortured, but some scars ran deep and were difficult to see. He would have to talk to him later and find out what had happened.

William dropped his bag and rushed towards his mother. As he approached he went down on one knee for her blessing, shaking with the joy at seeing her again. She was thinner than he remembered, gaunter, but still beautiful.

Lady Anne nearly didn’t recognise the stranger approaching her. His hair was longer and fairer than she remembered, and he was dressed in Norse clothing, a shorter tunic and tighter trews. His feet were shod with fine leather shoes and she swore he had grown.
He had certainly filled out: his shoulders were broad and his waist narrow. He was a fine looking man. She lifted up his head and stared into his clear blue eyes. This was her beloved youngest son. She placed a chaste kiss on his forehead.

‘I am so pleased to see you well my William,’ she whispered, drinking in all the changes in his face. He now had a scar cutting through one eyebrow, and his eyes looked older, more mature.

‘And I you, mother,’ he replied gently. She had aged in the four years since he’d gone to Lindisfarne. She looked tired and haunted. He looked around for his brothers expecting to see at least Liam there.

Anne knew who he looked for. ‘They went hunting,’ she grimaced. ‘They thought it too nice a day to wait around indoors.’

William laughed, he wasn’t going to let them upset him ever again. He had seen more in his last year than they had in their lives and he knew it.

‘Their loss, it means I get to tell you of my adventures without interruption,’ he smiled.

Lady Anne helped him to his feet. He had definitely grown, she thought, looking up at her son’s face. One of the two women made a strange noise and drew the attention of everyone back to them and away from William. Lady Anne blushed at their rudeness. She tried to like the women that her two eldest had married but it was hard.

‘William, these are your new sisters: Lady Druscilla, Harold’s wife and the Lady Darla, Liam’s wife. They came with us to bid you welcome.’

William bowed as was proper before his elder brothers’ wives. He studied the women carefully: there was a darkness about the eyes, and their lips had the mark of shrews about them. From the way they were looking at him he would have to be careful of them. They looked at him the same way Willow watched Connor and with less reason. He would mind his back with these two.

Brother Giles had reported to the Lord of the hall and made his way back to the family group.

‘There will be a banquet in honour of your release William, is there anything else you need at the moment?’

William nodded. ‘I haven’t had communion or confession in eight months, brother: will you hear me?’

‘Of course, my son.’

Lady Anne was proud of her youngest child, and proud that he would think to take care of his immortal soul before anything else. They could catch up later. He would need love and kindness to recover from his ordeal and the first step would be to reclaim his faith.

Giles and William went quietly off to one side of the hall, and through a small door. It led to a courtyard and a private chapel. He would have to make his bows to the lord soon, but for the moment he was alone with his confessor.

‘I was sorry to hear about Tara’s death,’ Giles started, ‘her father told us that she had been killed in the first attack. And another woman with her.’

‘Tara’s not dead,’ William blurted out, ‘at least she wasn’t a month ago, she was preparing for her wedding. Her father had paid the Norse to kill her, but the lord had fallen for her and offered her a place in his hall.’

‘Well the Lord be praised for that; and Harmony?’

‘Sold, she was sold onto another ship.’ William answered softly. ‘I believe she ended up in the isle of Mann.’

‘Oh I am sorry William, it must have been horrible for you; when you are stronger we will talk. Now what was it you wanted to confess?’

‘I really don’t know where to start, it was all so different, but the biggest thing was I lay with a woman, as if she were my wife.’

‘Were you forced, William? Did they treat you very badly or threaten Tara?’

‘No, nothing like that. There was a woman there, Buffy, Elizabeth, she was …wonderful, she was clever and gentle, but had a core of the finest iron, she had hair that glowed like the sun, the colour of new straw, and eyes the deepest green you have ever seen.’

‘She was gentle?’

‘Most of the time, but she has a warrior’s heart; we, the hall, was attacked and she just killed the man, shot him and walked away. I think I was the only one who was allowed to see the pain it caused her.’

‘Who was the man?’ Giles tried to be understanding, he had been young himself once and knew that although the ideal was only to keep coupling for procreation, it was an ideal and not the reality most young people lived with.

‘A lunatic, he had been declared outlaw by the Thing, their Witan, and tried to take what wasn’t his and she protected her own.’

‘And you shared pleasures?’

‘Yes, we slept together as man and wife. If I could I would have married her.’

‘I think a few days on your knees in church will be penance enough. I wouldn’t share all your adventures with your mother, though. I have to ask, William: were you hurt in any way? We hear such stories, but you don’t seem damaged.’

‘They didn’t hurt me at all: I met more kindness there, Giles, than I ever did in my brother’s hall. If I spoke I was listened to, I had more to eat and a warmer place to sleep, even before I had someone to warm it for me.’

‘And what did the lady of the hall think of you sleeping with one of her maids?’

‘She wasn’t a servant, Brother Giles, I was sharing a bed with the lady herself.’

‘And you got out alive! Her menfolk surely had something to say about it?’

‘Alive and more of a man than when I went, and her menfolk did as they were told. It was a different world. She led them, and was good and honourable and kind. Now if you’ll excuse me I had better say a few prayers here before I get back to my mother.’

He turned to the altar and knelt. Accepting the bread and wine, he shut out Giles and the rest of the world.





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