Malice Striker Read Free

hall clean and ordered? I smelled no stench there.”
    “Aye. The walls were whitewashed, the tables and benches free of grease.” Elspeth curled her arm around Skatha’s waist. “Shall we count the steps? We have little time before the sun sets.”
    “Aye.”
    They took three strides together, and Skatha halted when Elspeth did.
    “Feel the wall. There is a torch sconce to the right.”
    “I can scent the tallow and feel the slight warmth. How many in the room?”
    “Three on each wall, but only the middle torches are lit.”
    They walked from one end of the room to the other. “Fifteen steps.”
    Skatha refused to contemplate what would occur when the sun set. She concentrated on learning the chamber and familiarizing herself with its contents. One table by the fire, an enormous chair, one small stool, a metal chest, an earthen pitcher filled with icy water, a chamber pot under the massive bed.
    Time hurried onward. By unspoken agreement, Lady Gráinne, Muíríne, and Dagrún worked to make the room habitable, comfortable even, and none spoke of the coming consummation. The fire blazed, and the air in the chamber warmed to the heat of a midsummer’s day. When the servants arrived to scour the walls and floors, Muíríne led Skatha to the bed and helped her onto the mattress.
    “Lady Gráinne had them bring in a new mattress and the bed linens have been changed. Feel, Skatha, ’tis fine fabric, the smoothest weave I have e’er seen.”
    The material felt soft as cream. Skatha skimmed the bed’s surface. “The straw is well-packed. I cannot find any stray ticks.”
    “Aye. To be sure, the jarl is a man of wealth.” Muíríne touched a hand to Skatha’s shoulder. “The servants have brought apples, cheese, and boar slices.”
    “I am not hungry.” The notion of food made her stomach clench.
    “You must eat. We know not what this night holds for you, and you must keep up your strength.” Elspeth sat on the bed and hugged Skatha. “Every wife faces this eve, and every wife lives to see the sun rise on the morrow.”
    Skatha bit her bottom lip until she drew blood. “You speak wise words, but they do not ease the terror heating my insides.”
    “Here. Eat this apple.”
    Muíríne pressed the cool, round fruit into Skatha’s hand.
    “I fear every morsel will find its way back up my throat.”
    “One bite. Then another.”
    The tart apple did not clear the bitterness from Skatha’s mouth, and her throat contracted in protest on each swallow.
    “The sun is low on the horizon. We have but a piddling of time left. Elspeth, Muíríne, Dagrún, see you to finish cleaning the chamber.” Lady Gráinne clapped her hands. “Guards, take the servants back to the longhouse. Dagrún, bar the door. Skatha, ’tis time to prepare you for the consummation.”
    “We will all be praying for you. When ’tis time, close your eyes and give over to the Lord. Think peaceful thoughts. Take yourself elsewhere.” Muíríne gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and scrambled off the bed.
    “God be with you, my friend.” Elspeth squeezed her shoulder. “All will be well.”
    The straw dipped when Lady Gráinne climbed onto the mattress. Skatha heard the sound of the bed curtains being drawn. “We have no time for gentle explanations, child. Say me halt if you do not understand my words. Do not hide under maidenly shyness.”
    Skatha’s nape tingled, and ’twas as if a ghoul scraped ice and fire across her shoulder blades. “I wish only to be prepared, my lady.”
    “I will be blunt then, my child. He will join his body to yours. Men have between their legs a sword of penetration. ’Tis an instrument called by many names: cock, pecker, prick. ’Tis the source of a man’s seed and his manhood. He will penetrate you between your legs and issue his seed into your woman’s flesh.”
    A shudder racked her entire body. For a heartbeat she could not breathe. She frowned. “My lady? There?”
    “Aye. It may be unpleasant