Page 27 of The Red Wolf’s Prize

Serena stepped into the dirt path leading to the village, theRed Wolf on her right and Maugris on her other side. The village was close tothe manor so they had no need of horses, which was good, as she did not wantthe Normans to know she could ride well. She missed her daily rides on Elfleda,the white mare her father had given her in her fourteenth year, but it couldnot be helped.

A boy chasing a squawking copper feathered chicken ran infront of them and missed when he reached down to grab the panicked fowl. TheRed Wolf laughed, his deep voice bringing back the memory of their encounter inhis chamber the night before. Serena shivered though the sun on her head waswarm. The memory of his lips on hers brought back exciting sensations. Herfingers twitched as she recalled the feel of him and the smell of his wet skin.

How foolish she was to think of such things when this man,she reminded herself, was one of the Bastard’s knights.

She had argued with Maggie saying that going to the villagewith the Red Wolf was not a wise thing. But her words had only drawn a smilefrom the older woman, who insisted the new lord had need of the servant girlSarah. Thankfully she had dyed her new hair growth that morning.

The thought of being so close to him after what happened thenight before left her anxious and unsettled, her stomach churning as if twocats fought within it. After successfully avoiding the man all morning, she wasto be with him all afternoon. It was not just his nearness that plagued her,though that was surely enough cause for concern. Nay, visiting the men andwomen of the village was something she had often done with her father andSteinar. Seeing her with the new lord would surely remind the villeins that shewas their lady. She prayed none revealed her identity.

Other lads joined the boy who had chased the chicken, thegroup of them pausing at the side of the path to gape at the tall knight, whobore the name of the wolf he had killed with his bare hands, and the old man thewhole village thought of as a wizard.

The boys’ openmouthed gazes lingered on the Red Wolf’s darkblue tunic circled with a silver-studded belt at his waist from which hung adeadly short sword that glistened in the afternoon sun. His hosen were brown aswere the leather straps that crossed them. Even without a hauberk or the wolf’spelt, he appeared dangerous. The children’s wide-eyed stares followed him asthough they were watching a mythical god. He was so different from the Englishthegn they had known with his long fair hair and graying beard.

The Red Wolf cast a glance at the young ones, then paused,his gaze lingering on the cottages with their neat thatched roofs extendingnearly to the ground. “The cottages seem well kept. Though some of the thatchneeds to be repaired. Maugris, see that Sir Geoffroi knows of this task.”

Before Maugris could answer, Serena said, “Those are repairswe make before winter, my lord.”

He raised an eyebrow but Maugris only looked amused.Instantly, she realized she had stepped outside a servant’s demeanor.

“You are an impudent one for a servant, Sarah. Do you thinkI would not know that?”

“Nay, but ’tis not time for the repairs while spring isstill upon us. New thatch will be laid after harvest. And some repairs have beendelayed for lack of men to complete them.” Men the Normans have taken fromus.

As if to make peace between her and his lord, Maugrisinquired, “Are all these cottages homes?”

“Nay,” replied Serena politely, “some are the workshops ofthe men and women who provide what Talisand needs. The tools, woodenimplements, cloth and cooking kettles. And the smith, of course. The mill lieson the river just north of the village.” She pointed into the distance to alarger thatched structure rising amidst the trees.

“Is it the same in Normandy?” she asked, curious.

“Aye,” said the old man, “’tis similar, but there are somedifferences.”

Serena hoped the Norman knight appreciated what awell-tended village Talisand had. Did the knight fail to notice how the peoplewere well clothed and the children well fed notwithstanding all the fathersthey were missing?

“How many slaves are in the village?” asked the Red Wolf. “Ihave seen few in the manor.”

“There are no slaves in the village, nor in the manor,” sheanswered with pride. “All those the old lord brought here he freed.” That wasone of the reasons her father was so loved. He brought those to Talisand whohad skills to share, and the people produced much from the pure joy of buildinglives they were proud of, of working their own land.

The Red Wolf seemed to consider her words. “It seems a wasteto me, but then he was an unusual thegn.”

Serena could feel her anger rise but she quickly damped itdown. As if explaining to a child, she said, “It is because they are free, mylord, that the people work so hard. They work for the future of their sons anddaughters. They were happy to give back to the thegn who gave them so much. Tonow become serfs does not sit well.” Inwardly she cringed, knowing she hadagain stepped over the bounds of a servant, but it was important to convincethis Norman her father’s ways were best. Obviously he knew little of caring forvilleins.

His gray eyes seemed to study her for a moment. She feltuncomfortable beneath his intense gaze. Then, in a deep voice he said, “Leadthe way to the blacksmith, Sarah. It is time that I meet him.”

Serena dropped her head as Cassie had instructed, though thegesture ran against her nature. “Yea, my lord. His name is Angus. His cottageis a short way ahead.”

Maugris smiled.

She pointed toward the cottage set off from the others. Thesmall building they entered was open on one end where the breeze from the largedoor fanned the fire in the forge. A wave of heat billowed out to meet them asshe spotted the stocky man with bright red hair sitting on a stool, sweatrolling off his soot-smudged face. In one hand he held tongs that gripped a barof iron he forced into the fire. In his other hand was a large hammer, which heused to pound the red hot metal, the clanking sound resonating as sparks flewupward.

Angus paused in his work to thrust the glowing bar into avat of water sending steam shooting into the air as the tortured metalscreamed. As Serena approached, he set aside the cooling bar and rose, wipinghis powerful hands on his leather apron.

The Red Wolf followed her through the door, bending his headto avoid hitting the lintel. Maugris was close on his heels.

“Greetings, Angus. ‘Tis Sarah,” she said, careful to remindhim of the name she had taken, hoping the Normans did not think it odd. “Thenew lord and his wise man have come to meet you.”

“Aye,” said Angus, looking at the tall knight and Maugrisbehind him. “Maggie told me ye would be coming. Yer men are keeping my forgebusy, m’lord.”

“My men have much need for a smith’s services,” remarked theRed Wolf. “I trust you can keep up. We’ll need the horses shod and some armorrepaired. Then there will be fittings for the castle.”