Dream of Me/Believe in Me

conversation. It seemed one-sided to be sure, for he appeared to respond in monosyllables, but she laughed gaily nonetheless, as though they were of one lighthearted mind.
    Krysta put on a brave face until the meal was windingdown and she gratefully took her leave. She slept poorly that night and woke the next morning determined to speak with Hawk. That he believed she had in some way betrayed him was no longer to be borne.
    Finding him proved difficult as she was unwilling to go about asking if anyone knew his whereabouts. There was already far too much fodder for the gossip mill. She was walking toward the stables, thinking to see if his favorite stallion was there, when the frantic yelping of a dog brought her up short. As the animal's cries of pain increased, she turned in the direction of the sound and quickly found its cause.
    One of the hunting dogs had been taken out of its pen and was being severely beaten with a stick. The sight shocked her, for she had never permitted any mistreatment of the animals on her lands. The very thought that a helpless creature would be so abused horrified her. The pitiful animal crouched low, whimpering for mercy in between blows. Krysta started forward without thought, anxious to stop the cruelty, only to realize suddenly that the enraged man wielding the stick was none other than Lord Udell. His face shone dark red and a twisted sneer distorted his features. He seemed completely out of control as he struck the dog furiously, again and again.
    “Stop!” Heedless of her own safety, Krysta darted forward. She was convinced he would beat the animal to death.
    “Stop it! You're going to kill him!”
    Taken by surprise, Udell made to shove her aside. When he recognized her, his eyes dilated wildly. “Bitch! Get the hell away from me or—”
    The threat was never uttered, for the dog, no longer cringing beneath blows, sank his teeth into his tormentor's ankle. As Udell howled and tried to kick the animal away, the stick came loose in his hands. Krysta was wrenching it from him when it slipped between her fingers and slashed across Udell's face.
    At that, everything seemed to happen at once. Udell screamed, trying to stem the flow of blood from the wound that ran from his forehead down his left cheek and just missed his eye, while hopping about on his one uninjured ankle. The dog disappeared around a corner of the stable. Several grooms ran out to see what was happening. Hard on their heels, a group of nobles returned from a ride, among them Lady Esa. She took one look at the scene and commenced shrieking.
    “Murderers!
Someone has tried to kill Lord Udell! Merciful God, what infamy! In the very house of the king! Help! Help!”
    She flung herself off her horse and at her brother, knocking him to the ground where he lay, groaning and bleeding. Others clustered around, the ladies adding to the cacophony with their own shrieks as the lords drew their daggers and shouted orders to one another to defend against the imagined assailant.
    Krysta observed all this with blank astonishment. Granted, Udell had been injured but he was hardly in threat of his life. Moreover, although she'd had no intention of hurting him, she rather thought he deserved it for his treatment of the dog. Assuming that eventually someone among the dozen or so people clustered about him would decide to stop shouting and render him aid, she turned to go. But just as she did, Udell surged to his feet, a blood-drenched hand still clutching his face, and yelled, “She did it! That's the bitch! Stop her!”
    At once, several of the lords advanced on Krysta, not touching her for they were yet mindful that she was the betrothed of the Hawk, but preventing her from escaping. One reached over and yanked the stick from her hand, grinning with satisfaction as he brandished it. “She is caught with the very weapon she used still in her hand!”
    “She attacked me!” Udell declared with an air of astounded affront. “I had trouble with my dog and while Iwas seeing to him, she leaped upon me with that stick. It is true what they say, all Vikings are savages.”
    “You were beating your dog!” Krysta exclaimed. “I merely tried to stop you and you were struck by the same stick you were wielding against that poor animal.”
    Udell straightened, letting his hand fall to reveal the jagged wound on his face. He looked around at the assembled lords and ladies, all hanging eagerly on his every word. “A man has not the right