Medieval 01 - Untamed

promising as succulent a roast as the animal’s age and condition permitted.
    â€œI hope the hunt is successful,” Dominic said. “If the cooks can do this well with a doddering old boar, imagine what could be done with venison.”
    â€œStop. You will make me drool,” Simon said.
    The greyhounds set up a snarling, yipping turmoil beneath the table.
    â€œBaron,” Dominic said curtly. “Enough!”
    After a few yips and a soft growl, the hounds subsided.
    Dominic pulled his belt knife and sliced portions of meat for himself and for Meg. Steam rose and savory juices ran onto the platter, pooling like hot rain. A stuffing of figs, onions, and rosemary spilledout. Hot bread was passed along with the meat.
    When a bowl of cooked greens appeared, Dominic looked askance at his wife. Smiling, Meg put the greens next to her meat, broke off a crust of bread to catch the juices, and began eating with delicate greed.
    Soft whines issued from beneath the table.
    Meg ignored them. But she couldn’t ignore the sudden pressure of her husband’s leg against hers when he reached for the saltcellar. Even through the weight of her clothing, she felt the heat of his body. Her hand shook and a bite of meat fell to the floor.
    Hounds seethed suddenly around Meg’s legs. Teeth snapped, startling her from her sensual distraction with her husband’s warmth. She pushed back from the table so quickly that her heavy chair teetered on the edge of falling.
    Dominic moved in a blur of speed. One hand righted Meg’s chair and the other hand vanished beneath the table, only to reappear immediately holding Leaper by the scruff. A torrent of Turkish poured over the hapless hound while she was soundly shaken for frightening Meg. As soon as the greyhound was released, she slunk off to sit under someone else’s feet.
    â€œAre you bitten?” Dominic asked, concerned.
    â€œNo, just startled. I was thinking of something else, and Leaper isn’t usually so bold about snatching food from the males.”
    â€œShe is coming into heat.” Dominic smiled faintly. “She knows it, so she starts testing all the males.”
    â€œGets away with it, too,” Simon said.
    â€œHow nice to know that every bitch has her day,” Meg said blandly.
    Dominic leaned over to her and said softly, “Don’t get any ideas, wench. Men are brighter than dogs.”
    â€œDazzling thought, that. We all know what an intellectual marvel the average long-tongued hound is.”
    â€œThe bitch is brighter than some women,” Dominic said.
    â€œHow so?”
    â€œWhen her time comes, she knows what is her due from the males, and she demands it.”
    Meg knew better than to ask what the bitch’s “due” was. Heat flushed her cheeks.
    The smile on Dominic’s face told Meg that he guessed her thoughts. He leaned even closer to her.
    â€œHave you bled yet?” he whispered.
    The color of her cheeks deepened.
    â€œHow long?” Dominic persisted.
    Without a word, Meg bent her head and tried the roasted pork. Dominic’s smoky glance watched every morsel slide between her lips.
    â€œIf we were alone, small falcon,” he said in a low voice, “you would be taking food from my hand. And I…”
    Meg looked up, saw the sensual burning in Dominic’s eyes, and knew that if they were alone, he would be doing a good deal more with his hands than feeding her.
    Abruptly Dominic stood. “It is time for the hunt.”
    Â 
    F OUR knights, five squires, a single lady, a pack of hounds, and the hound master rode to the hunt. Only the presence of Meg betrayed that it was a hunt rather than a battle being sought. Dominic and his men broke custom and hunted in hauberk, sword, and helm, astride destriers and followed by squires carrying lances.
    It was an awkward way to hunt, but not as awkward as coming unarmed upon a nest of Reevers would have been.
    Ahead of the hunting party, the rugged fells thrust steeply into an unusually clear sky. Neither as large as the mountains Dominic had seen in his travels, nor small enough to be dismissed as hills, the rocky fells were covered with the shimmering green mantle of spring. Hidden by distance and the rugged land was a long, ragged lake from which flowed the headwaters of the Blackthorne River. With the river as their guide, Simon hoped to find a shortcut to the place where he had come across a large stag’s