Ironhand's Daughter Read Free Page B

are a fine lover; you have strength and finesse. And you used me. That made it a balanced transaction, and neither of us was sullied by it. How dare you attempt to shame me?”
    â€œWhy would you see it as shame?” he countered. “I am talking of perceptions—the perceptions of men. You think I look down upon you? I do not. I adore you. For your body
and
your mind. Further, I am probably—as much as I am capable of it—a little in love with you. But this is not why I spoke in the way I did.”
    â€œI don’t care,” she told him. “Good-bye.”
    Sigarni strode from the room and out past the great bear. A servant pushed open the double doors and she walked down the steps into the courtyard. Lady came bounding toward her. Another servant, a slim dark-eyed young man, was waiting at the foot of the steps with Abby hooded upon his wrist. Sigarni pulled on her hawking glove.
    â€œYou were waiting for me?” she asked the young man. He nodded. “Why? I am usually here for hours.”
    â€œThe master said today would be a short visit,” he explained.
    Sigarni untied the braces and slid the hood clear of Abby’s eyes. The hawk looked around, them jumped to Sigarni’s fist. When the huntress lifted her arm and called out “Hai!” the hawk took off, heading south.
    Sigarni flicked her fingers and Lady moved close to her side, awaiting instructions. “What is your name?” she asked the servant, noting the sleekness of his skin and the taut muscles beneath his blue silk shirt. He shook his head and moved away from her.
    Annoyed, the huntress walked from the old castle, crossing the rickety drawbridge and heading off into the woods. Her mood was dark and angry as she went. The mind of a whore, indeed. Her thoughts turned to Fell the Forester. Now there was a man who understood pleasure. She doubted if there was a single woman within a day’s walk who hadn’t succumbed to his advances. Did they call him a whore? No. It was “Good old Fell, what a character, what a man!” Idiotic!
    Asmidir’s words rankled. She had thought him different, more . . . intelligent? Yes. Instead he proved to be like most men, caught between a need for fornication and a love of sermonizing.
    Abby soared above her, and Lady ran to the side of the trail, seeking out hares. Sigarni pushed thoughts of the black man from her mind and walked on in the dusk, coming at last to the final hillside and gazing down on her cabin. A light was showing at the window and this annoyed her, for she wished to be alone this evening. If it was that fool, Bernt, she would give him the sharp side of her tongue.
    Walking into the yard, she whistled for Abby. The hawk came in low, then spread her wings and settled on Sigarni’s glove. Feeding her a strip of meat she removed the hunting jesses; then carrying her to the bow perch, she attached the mews ties, and turned toward the cabin.
    Lady moved to the side of the building, lying down beside the door with her head on her paws.
    Sigarni pushed open the door.
    Fell was sitting by the fire, eyes closed, his long legs stretched out before the blaze. It angered her that she could feel a sense of rising excitement at his presence. He looked just the same as on that last day, his long black hair sleek and glowing with health, swept back from his brow and held in place by a leather headband, his beard close-trimmed and as soft as fur. Sigarni took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
    â€œWhat do you want here, Goat-brain?” she snapped.
    Then she saw the blood.
    There were wolves all around him, fangs bared, ready to
rip and tear. A powerful beast leaped at him. Fell caught it
by the throat, then spun on his heel hurling the creature into
the pack. His limbs felt leaden, as if he were wading through
water. The wolves blurred, shifting like smoke, becoming
tall, fierce-eyed warriors holding knives of sharpened
bronze. They moved in