Free Blood Sword Legacy 02 - Master of Torment by Karin Tabke Page A

mention of the woman who bore her. No mother was she. She had given birth to her, yes, but then abandoned her in shame. Had Edith not taken Tarian to her sire, who handed her off to one of several successive foster families, she would not be alive. Tarian owed Edie her life. And now, once again, Edie came to her rescue.
    “I fear him, Edie, as I have never feared a man or a woman in my life,” she confessed.
    “What? The shield maiden fears a simple man?”
    Tarian tried to muster a smile, but felt the tremble of her chin. A virgin warrior was she, and though she could meet a man in battle with no fear, the thought of meeting one in bed terrified her. Combined with her fear, her conscience nettled her; she was not one to gain the upper hand by nefarious actions, but she could see no other way out of her dilemma.
    Edith caught her trepidation, and took her hands into her own. “The Norman is virile, he is strong, and I suspect he has not had a woman for some time. And he will be anxious, but you must set the pace, as you would with your stallion.” She pulled Tarian away from the window anddeeper into the chamber. “Come, I’ll prepare a rosewater bath, then rub you down with oil.”
    “Rose, ’tis not my scent, Edie.”
    “Aye, that I well know. You do not want him to smell you out at your first public meeting, do you?”
    Tarian smiled slyly, her nervousness fading. “You are a devious woman, Edie.”
    The old woman cackled and nodded. “’Tis kept me alive these seventy years.”
    After her bath, Tarian admitted, “I would have some of your experience this night, Edie. I know not what to do.”
    Edith set about laying out oils and linens. “Nature will guide you.”
    Tarian slipped from the bed where she sat. “It did not guide Malcor.”
    Edith scoffed. “A man who cannot rise to a woman such as yourself is no man at all.”
    “What kind of woman am I?” Tarian asked as she came around and poured a cup of wine from the side table. It did not quell the nervousness in her belly.
    “A beauty with no equal, a woman with the brain of a man and the will of a queen. You are a prize among all prizes, Tarian. Never forget it.”
    “I am the daughter of a man called nithing by his king and his brothers, an outcast of the lowest form. I am no prize.”
    Edith caught her breath and turned angry eyes upon her. “ Never say that word in my presence!”
    Tarian stood straight and proud. “The term does not offend me as it once did, Edie. I know my strengths and I know my flaws; I am but a woman trying to make her wayin a man’s world where they make all the rules. What more can I do?”
    “Play the game better.”
    Tarian smiled. “Aye, and am I not a chessmaster?”
     

    Tired and still frustrated despite the day’s excitement, Wulfson climbed the steps to the well-appointed chamber he’d claimed during his time there. It was the only consolation he would grudgingly concede. He had grown accustomed to the thick mattress on the sturdy bed. Despite his frustration, he had found sleep the moment his head hit the soft downy pillow each night. Though he had offered to share the rich accommodations with them, his men spread out on pallets in the hall. ’Twas best for their safety that way. The old fortress, while simple in construction, had fortifications that few other large dwellings in this land could boast. Unlike most English manor houses, Draceadon resembled more a castle. The place had been a refuge over the last two centuries not only from the warring Welsh, but also from the Norse, and from the bloodthirsty Irish pirates when they skulked inland.
    Aye, with the Welsh border not too far off to the west, Draceadon had seen many battles, and had been a worthy protector for the peoples. But Dunloc had not seen to its maintenance. Wulfson suspected the fortress would have been a sight to behold in its glory days. As it was, William would order it torn down and a castle stronghold to replace it. ’Twas his