Medieval 01 - Untamed

through the keep’s stone halls and down its winding stairways. Stopping only long enough to take some bread and cheese from the larder and push her feet into the boots, she went quickly to the forebuilding.
    A fair-haired stranger kept the door there, allowing servants to come and go between keep and bailey as they set about their early morning chores. The man barely glanced at Meg as she rushed by.
    Smoke from the kitchen shed rose in the bailey, blending with the misty dawn. The cobbles in the well-trod paths were slick and cold. Meg moved over them as though wearing wings. The gatehouse was cold and dark but for the torch burning near the guard’s stool.
    â€œGood morning to you,” Harry said, getting stiffly to his feet. “You be up and about early.”
    â€œI’ve neglected my herbal and my garden,” Meg said.
    â€œAye,” Harry said gravely, “I heard the plants pleading most sweetly for their lady all of yesterday. I sent Black Tom to tell them you were busy with your duties as wife of the keep’s new lord, but the rascal just rolled in the catnip and said not one word of comfort to the wee plants.”
    The twinkle in Harry’s eyes was obvious even in the gloom of the gatehouse. Meg smiled at him despite the urgency driving her. She touched Harry’s hand as he reached for the door.
    â€œYou brighten my day,” she murmured.
    â€œNay, lady. ’Tis you who brighten our days. Not one of your people but doesn’t have a tale of your kindness to tell.”
    Smiling, Meg shook her head in denial. “Not one of you hasn’t done a kindness for me.”
    â€œAre you…”
    Harry’s voice died. A ruddiness that had nothing to do with torchlight appeared on his weathered cheeks. He cleared his throat roughly.
    â€œIs all well with you, my lady?”
    When Meg realized that Harry was asking about her new status as wife rather than maiden, she flushed to the roots of her hair.
    â€œThe people…” Harry cleared his throat and tried again. “Your mother was a stranger when she came here. We saw…That is, your father was a harsh man even when he wasn’t in his cups. And when he was…”
    â€œAye,” Meg whispered.
    Harry shifted his feet uncomfortably.
    â€œYou’re nae stranger to us, lassie,” he said in a rush. “If that Norman bast—er, if the lord hurts you, we’ll nae stand for it. Do you need us, send up a shout and we’ll come running and let the devil take the hinder part. You’ve nae need to go to the forest like your mother to find your peace. Many accidents can befall a man while hunting. I promise you.”
    Tears shimmered in Meg’s eyes, making them huge. She brushed a quick kiss over Harry’s cheek, which flushed even more at the gesture of affection.
    â€œTell the people to be at ease,” Meg said. “Lord Dominic has not been unkind to me in the way you fear.”
    Before Harry could speak, Meg was gone. She hurried out the portal and over the drawbridge like a fleeing wraith. Chills that had nothing to do with the cold morning chased over her body, shortening her breath. Indeed, Dominic had not forced hisGlendruid bride. He had simply let her sip paradise from his lips and then had told her that she was alone in that paradise; for he sought only heirs from her body.
    Are you in Hell, John? Are you laughing at the hell you made for others on earth? Dominic wants only a son, an heir .
    Futile dream. Dominic has no love within him, simply a burning need to found a dynasty and a shrewd tactician’s understanding of the battle ahead .
    The path led between low, dry-stone fences that marked off fields and pastures. The rich, deep brown of the furrows glistened with moisture. Parallel stripes of light green marked the first, fragile growth of a future harvest. Blackbirds hopped from ridge to ridge among the furrows, seeking seeds or insects. Like pale patches of mist, sheep hovered in the pasture while their clever black lips searched out new growth amid the straw of last year’s grass.
    Church bells rang through the hush, calling the hour and telling the people it was time to go out into the fields. The sound of the bells normally delighted Meg. This morning they simply goaded her, feeding the urgency that grew with each step she took away from the keep.
    Danger .

12
    â€œS HE’S GONE ,” S IMON SAID flatly.
    Dominic looked up