Medieval 01 - Untamed

same—breed his child and become mistress of the keep. But it never happened, because after his cursed witch wife left him, his staff became so limp no seed ever came from it no matter what whore’s tricks were tried.”
    A shout from the boundary of the rude forest camp distracted Eadith. Rufus was returning to the bonfire with more supplies from Carlysle Manor. As Meg watched, all but one knight and a ragged poacher with downcast face crowded around to see what bounty the manor had supplied this day.
    â€œAle?” shouted one Reever questioningly.
    â€œAye,” Rufus said as he dismounted, grinning.
    He walked to the fire and dragged off his helm, revealing the coarse mane of red hair that was the source of his name.
    â€œIs there food?” Eadith asked rather sharply.
    â€œMeat, bread, and cheese.”
    â€œWhat about a wench?” called another Reever.
    â€œWe’re promised one of the kitchen wenches as soon as she quits bleeding.”
    â€œWhy wait?” muttered one of the Reevers. “She’ll be bleeding when we finish, like as not. One wench isn’t enough to service us.”
    Meg acted as though she hadn’t heard. Beneath the mantle her hands went instinctively to her womb. A chill that had nothing to do with the damp morning condensed beneath her skin.
    â€œAny word from the Norman bastard?” Eadith asked.
    A shrug was the only answer Rufus gave. His eyes lit when he saw Meg standing on the opposite side of the fire.
    â€œStand by me,” he commanded.
    Outwardly calm, Meg walked around the fire toward Rufus, stopping well short of him. The look in his eyes as he watched her made her stomach clench and bile rise in her throat.
    The expression on Eadith’s face was both irritated and resigned. The Reever’s well-known lust for the mistress of Blackthorne Keep had been one of the levers Eadith had used to pry Rufus from Duncan’s side. She was in no position to complain when Rufus displayed that lust for all to see.
    â€œDo at least wait until moonrise tomorrow,” Eadith said impatiently. “Rutting on her will be much more satisfying when the Norman bastard is here to watch.”
    Nausea rolled through Meg. The chill beneath her skin went deeper, despite the bonfire’s heat.
    â€œWhat madness is this?” she asked with aching calm.
    â€œNo madness,” Eadith retorted. “’Tis but revenge against the Norman bastard and the Glendruid witch who is his whore.”
    â€œWhat revenge.”
    There was neither question nor emotion in Meg’s voice, simply an unnatural calm that came as ice possessed her soul.
    â€œYou should have let the Norman bastard die of the poison I gave him,” Eadith said savagely. “Then I could have persuaded Duncan to take the keep and all would have been well. But the bastard lived and I shall have my revenge despite your interfering.”
    â€œDuncan. Where is he.”
    Again Meg’s voice was flat, toneless, almost inhuman.
    Eadith shrugged. “Gone north with his knights and good riddance. The border clans will cut short that traitor’s life before he can enjoy the fruits of his treachery.”
    â€œHe is not one of you.”
    â€œAye,” Eadith snarled. “We have no traitors left among us. Except you, witch, and we won’t have you long.”
    Meg’s unblinking stare made the Reevers look from one to the other with growing uncertainty. Muttering ran through them as they measured the uncanny stillness of their Glendruid captive.
    Only Eadith was undeterred by Meg’s unflinching green eyes. The vengeance Eadith had sought since her family’s defeat by Normans was finally within her grasp.
    â€œLet me tell you what is waiting for you, traitor,” Eadith said with relish. “At moonrise tomorrow yourbastard lord will arrive with thrice your weight in gold and gems.”
    A hidden motion of Meg’s body made her remaining jewelry shiver musically. The small cries were stilled almost as soon as they began.
    â€œWe will take the ransom,” Eadith continued. “Then you will be given to the Reevers while your husband watches. When there is no more sport to be had from either of you, we will kill him.”
    Meg said nothing.
    â€œAre you too slack-witted to understand what your siding with the Normans will cost you?” Eadith demanded angrily. “Soon you will know what I endured. You will be