Page 30 of The Red Wolf’s Prize

Serena bowed her head. “Yea, my lord.” She had alreadycrossed the line from servant to something more. It would not do for her tofight him on this. But inside she was shocked. Did he mean to disrupt thesystem her father had worked so diligently to establish?

Maugris exchanged a look with his master, but it brought nochange in the Red Wolf’s expression. He seemed determined to take what heconsidered to be his.

With regret, Serena bid the weavers good day and left withthe men to continue their advance through the village. The Red Wolf handed theblue cloth to his wise one as they approached the next workshop.

A goose followed by her goslings crossed the road, hurryingat the sound of the knight’s heavy footfalls. The familiar bark of a dogsounded in the distance. When Maugris looked at her in question, she said, “Thesheep grazing in the far pasture are being brought in for the night. The dogyou hear is one the shepherds use.”

“Where do you keep the sheep after gloaming?” he inquired.

“There are pens at the far end of the village and on thesouth side of the manor, where the sheep are protected from wolves and otherbeasts.”

Maugris’s mouth hitched up in a grin aimed at his master,but the Norman knight did not see the old man’s smile. It was then Serenarealized what she had said. A wolf was a predator, a beast all feared. Had shebrought to the old one’s mind the Norman knight he served? Serena cared not ifher comment displeased the Red Wolf. After all, he was the one who had chosento wear the wolf’s pelt. Observing his fierce countenance, she thought the namehe had taken suited him well.

As the afternoon lengthened, Serena observed the Normanknight’s interest grow in the village and its people, though his regard was notalways returned. In response to his presence, she glimpsed fear in the eyes ofsome.

Was the Norman impressed with the lands his king hadbestowed upon him? Talisand was a prosperous holding, a place of peace in aland that had often known war. He was a warrior far from home who had followedhis duke, now his king, to a distant land. All knights wanted land, did theynot? But it was not just any land he had taken, it was her land.

As she walked through the village, Serena had to fight thedesire to act the thegn’s daughter and the lady of her people, planning thethings she knew were needed for the winter to come, inquiring about their familiesand seeing to their needs. They were good people, trying to do the best fortheir children and she wanted to help them. Playing the servant limited herrole. Could she do more if she accepted the marriage foisted upon her? Or,could she better serve the people by seeking Steinar’s aid to one day reclaimtheir lands? Aid that might only bring war to Talisand. The desire to flee andthe desire to stay warred within her.

Introducing the Red Wolf to the villagers had a strangeeffect upon her. While being deferential to him, as a servant must be to herlord, the hatred she’d held onto so tightly began to ebb. It was easy to hatethe dreaded Norman king who had conquered England with his army of knights andmercenaries, but it was not so easy to hate the knight who talked with herpeople. He needed her help to understand their needs. Though she had been angryat his ignorance of their ways and had bristled at his rebuke, she could notforget his kiss. His reputation was that of a ruthless warrior, as vicious asthe wolf he had slain. Yet he’d been gentle with her. She fought to rememberthe steel gray of his eyes and the firm set of his jaw when he gave orders tohis men, and when he had claimed the blue cloth he believed was his by right.She fought to remember he was her enemy, but she could not fight the desirethat welled up inside her.

The Red Wolf bent to greet a village lad and images of hisnaked back from the night before flooded her mind. She remembered the scar onhis shoulder and the one on his wrist. He is not invincible. He is only a man,imperfect and vulnerable. Mayhap he wore his tunic and weapons more confidentlythan most, his stance prouder, more sure. And he was more handsome to her mindwith his dark hair and olive skin, bronzed from the sun. But for all that, hewas just a man. And her fascination with him was disturbing.

A loud boom violently rent the air like a thunderclap.Serena jerked her head in the direction of the noise. With lightning speed, theRed Wolf shoved her behind him and drew his sword from its sheath.

“What was that?” Maugris shouted.

“I know not,” said the Red Wolf. Then to Serena, “Wait hereuntil I see what has happened.”

“It came from the potter’s workshop,” she said. Ignoring theRed Wolf’s order for her to wait, she followed him as he strode toward thecottage. Behind the cottage, dark smoke belched into the air.

At the open door, the Red Wolf turned to face her. “I toldyou to wait!”

“But my lord, I know these people.”

He scowled, sheathed his sword and proceeded into thecottage. Again, Serena followed, holding her hand over her nose against thesmoke filling the small space. It made her eyes water. As the smoke cleared,she gazed around the workshop. It appeared unaffected, pots lining the wallsand blocks of clay and tools piled on a work table as they always were.

The potter’s wife, Hulda, leaned against the doorpost at theback of the cottage. She looked about to faint. The door to the rear yard stoodopen. Hulda stepped aside to let the Red Wolf pass. Serena put her arm aroundthe distraught woman and watched the knight kneel beside the girl lying on theground in front of the kiln. Black soot covered her face and blood tricked fromher neck and arms where flying shards of pottery had sliced through her skin.The ground was covered with pieces of burnt and broken pots.

“Be Edith alive, m’lord?” Hulda asked tentatively.

“Yea, but she’s hurt badly,” said the Red Wolf. “Is there aplace I can lay her?”

“Yea, my lord,” said Hulda, “just inside.”

Carefully lifting the girl in his arms, the Red Wolf carriedyoung Edith into the cottage and laid her on the straw pallet that Huldadirected him to.

Maugris, who had entered the cottage, stood next to Hulda asshe explained, “My husband Godfrith is away so Edith worked alone. She musthave failed to dry the pots she was firing. The lass is new at the craft. I wasafeard something like this might happen.” Shaking her head and wiping her handson her tunic, she added, “She was nay always careful.”

The Red Wolf faced the older woman, his eyes reflectingconcern. “Is there a healer among you…someone who can clean and tend herwounds? It is best done while she is unconscious.”

Hulda shot a glance at Serena for all the villagers knew,along with Aethel who had the knowledge of herbs, the Lady of Talisand couldtreat wounds.

“I will see to the girl,” said Serena before the woman couldanswer. “Have you clean cloths and water, Hulda?”

While they waited for the needed provisions, the knightknelt before the girl and began to remove the broken pottery shards from herclothing. Serena was surprised he would do so.

She knelt beside him. “I can see to her, my lord.”