He did not look particularly pleased.
She was accustomed to men being impressed with her, and his lack of interest pricked her pride. Who did he think he was? But she had a contrary streak, and now she wanted all the more to bring him under her spell.
She spoke in hesitant Anglo-Saxon. “You saved my brother. Thank you.”
He replied amiably enough. “Boys of his age need to take risks. Plenty of time to be cautious when he’s an old man.”
“If he lives that long.”
Wilwulf shrugged. “A timid nobleman gains no respect.”
Ragna decided not to argue. “Were you rash in your youth?”
His mouth twitched, as if his recollections amused him. “Utterly foolhardy,” he said, but it was more of a boast than a confession.
“Now you’re wiser, of course.”
He grinned. “Opinions differ.”
She felt she was breaking through his reserve. She moved to another topic. “How are you getting on with my father?”
His face changed. “He is a generous host, but he’s not inclined to give me what I came here for.”
“Which is...?”
“I want him to stop sheltering Vikings in his harbor.”
She nodded. Her father had told her as much. But she wanted Wilwulf to talk. “How does that affect you?”
“They sail from here across the Channel to raid my towns and villages.”
“They haven’t troubled this coast for a century. And that’s not because we’re descended from Vikings. They no longer attack Brittany or the Frankish lands or the Low Countries. Why do they pick on England?”
He looked startled, as if he had not expected a strategic question from a girl. However, she had clearly raised a subject close to his heart, for he responded with heat. “We’re wealthy, especially our churches and monasteries, but we’re not good at defending ourselves. I’ve talked to learned men, bishops and abbots, about our history. The great King Alfred chased the Vikings off, but he was the only monarch to fight back effectively. England is a rich old lady with a box full of money and no one to guard it. Of course we get robbed.”
“What does my father say to your request?”
“I imagined that, as a Christian, he would readily agree to such a demand—but he has not.”
She knew that, and she had thought about it. “My father doesn’t want to take sides in a quarrel that doesn’t concern him,” she said.
“So I gathered.”
“Do you want to know what I would do?”
He hesitated, looking at her with an expression between skepticism and hope. Taking advice from a woman clearly did not sit easily with him. But his mind was not completely closed to the notion, she was glad to see. She waited, unwilling to force her views on him. Eventually he said: “What would you do?”
She had her answer ready. “I’d offer him something in return.”
“Is he so mercenary? I thought he would help us from fellow feeling.”
She shrugged. “You’re in a negotiation. Most treaties involve an exchange of benefits.”
His interest was heightened. “Perhaps I should think about that—giving your father some incentive for doing what I ask.”
“It’s worth a try.”
“I wonder what he might want.”
