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“It was inevitable, and many assume, understandably so, that she is not strong enough to be your wife.”
“My mother believed differently,” Bhric said, watching the way his wife’s face lit with a smile as she spoke with Hume. Did she fancy the man? Had she brought him here to be close to him?
“I learned over the years to respect your mother’s wisdom. Perhaps she knows something we do not.”
A scream pierced the air, catching everyone’s attention and everything happened so fast there was little time to react, though his wife did not hesitate.
A large elkhound was growling and nipping as he chased after Uta, a young lass, barely five years. It was one of the war hounds, trained to hunt and kill, and he was almost on top of the lass. If his teeth sank into her, she would not survive.
Bhric stared in shock as did all the others in the area when his wife ran limping far faster than he believed her capable of and placed herself in front of the lass to boldly raise her hand and command the hound to…
“STOP!” Tavia ordered, pointing her finger at the hound and when the beast of a dog stopped, she then commanded, “SIT!”
To everyone’s shock and amazement the hound sat. They were even more amazed that the lass had fastened herself to Tavia’s leg and when she peeked her head from behind her, the hound growled and Tavia commanded him once again.
“Quiet!” Tavia ordered, shaking her finger at the hound and he turned silent.
A large man came running toward them, calling out, “Uta! Uta!
Uta peeked her head out from behind Tavia once again but would not step past her.
“I just wanted to hug him. Faðir,” Uta called out.
Bhric reached his wife before Harald reached her and his daughter. Uta gripped Tavia’s cloak, tucking it around her as if trying to disappear in its folds.
“You have been warned to stay away from the hounds, Uta,” Bhric said firmly. “They are not playthings.”
Uta’s slim bottom lip began to quiver. “Bones looked lonely.”
“Uta! How many times have I told you not to go near Bones?” the large man scolded as he stopped next to the hound.
“He’s lonely,” the little lass insisted.
“You need to teach her to stay away from the hounds, Harald, before there is a serious mishap,” Bhric ordered and noticed how the hound kept focused on Tavia.
“He’s grumpy because he’s lonely,” Uta said, keeping herself buried tight in the folds of Tavia’s cloak.
“Bones does look lonely,” Tavia said and went to step toward the hound.
Bhric went to grab his wife to yank her back and Harald went to hurry around her. They both were too late.
Tavia’s hand had reached the hound’s mouth and he sniffed at it. “Are you lonely, Bones?’ she asked softly and with a gentle hand rubbed his neck. The hound leaned into her touch, wanting more and she drew closer to give him a proper rub. “Come, Uta, rub him so he knows you are no threat to him and he will not chase you again.”
The little lass did not hesitate. She scurried around Tavia.
“This is Uta, Bones, and she wishes to be friends with you,” Tavia said and Uta’s hand rushed out to touch the hound. “Gently,” Tavia cautioned and Uta’s small hand disappeared into the hound’s fur to rub lightly. “
“Can I hug him?” Uta asked and before either man could object, Tavia said, “It is best you start with a gentle rub until he comes to know you better and trusts you.”
“I love you, Bones, I love you,” Uta said in a singsong voice as she rubbed him, and the large hound leaned against her. She gave a glance at her father. “See, Bones was lonely. Now he will play with me.”
Bhric turned a scowl on Harald. “The war hounds aren’t meant for play.”
“Aye, my lord,” Harald said. “Come, Uta, Bones must return to his pen.”
“After we play, Faðir,” Uta said and turned to speak in her singsong voice to the hound. “Come on, Bones, we’ll play together.” She skipped off and Bones followed alongside her.
“That hound was one of our best. He is no good to us anymore if he goes off so easily with a bairn,” Bhric said.
