Ruthless by Sophia Johnson

have not had decent meat in way
too long."
    "Aye, my lord."
    She was relieved to see he did not limp or
look to favor his right leg. Young Gille followed Brian. His eyes
watched every move Magnus made as if he was a god come to
earth.
    o0o
    It was not yet full daylight when she went
down to the great hall. She looked around not knowing where she was
supposed to eat. She felt a light pluck on her kirtle and turned to
see Esa's strong face with a slight smile on her lips.
    "The color suits you," she said, nodding at
the brown kirtle.
    Muriele smiled a welcome at the woman then
paid particular heed to the high table. Magnus sat to the right of
Chief Olaf, Feradoch to the left. Olaf's commander was there and a
dozen knights. The Chief and the two brothers seemed to be arguing
about something and paid no heed to the others.
    "Come. Let us find a bench afore all are
filled."
    Muriele smiled and gladly followed her.
Though several benches in the center of the room were near empty,
Esa led her to the last row along the wall. Muriele, too, preferred
no one could walk behind her.
    Perchance she was wrong on the reason the
woman chose the spot. She saw her look toward the dais and sigh, as
if with relief. Muriele wondered why until she, too, glanced toward
it. Ah. She could not see it. When the woman relaxed beside her,
she knew she avoided someone at the high table. Was it one of the
men?
    Servants walked through the room placing
steaming bowls of porridge at the center of the tables and hot
loaves of brown bread. Before long, she was blowing on her spoon of
porridge, impatient to eat it.
    "Esa, at the high table, why do the women sit
separate from the men?"
    "Each morn, they talk of their war plans or
about their conquests from the night before. They dinna want the
women hearing, so they are not allowed. At the noon meal, they
resume their rightful places."
    "They argue more than anything else." Muriele
had noted the tense set of Magnus' shoulders and the way Feradoch
stared at him.
    "Aye. Magnus must see to the disciplining of
the warriors. When Feradoch comes, he claims his foster brother is
too harsh. He doesna feel men should be punished for certain
things."
    "Oh? What would they be?"
    Esa shrugged her shoulders and ignored the
question, appearing uneasy with it.
    The crowded room soon became uncomfortable,
for they sat far from the large entrance, the only source of fresh
air. Muriele was grateful when they finished eating. She went above
to take the laundry to the stream where the women gathered to do
the washing. She felt uneasy and kept to herself, though she liked
hearing them talking and joking with each other.
    She did as the day before. While the clothes
were drying, she sat beneath the swaying green canopy of a willow
tree and repaired his clothing. 'Twas while she was stitching a
torn pocket in a blue linen tunic when they heard a commotion.
Curious, the women stood and looked to the right. The front gate
and drawbridge was quite far, but they could make out men galloping
their horses into the front bailey, calling out for help.
    "'Tis the hunter's men," one plump young
woman said, her fingers going to her lips in a worried gesture.
    "Aye. Something's happened."
    Muriele saw Grunda's figure hurrying across
the bailey, the heavy basket slung over her arm. Without another
thought, Muriele put her mending aside and held the hem of her
kirtle high as she took off in a loping run.
    When she reached the grassy area beside the
stable, Grunda was crouched over someone on the ground. She hurried
over and stopped so quickly she near lost her balance. One look and
she knew a boar's tusks had ripped a gaping hole in the man's
stomach. His bowels bulged from the opening. Blood and gore covered
his clothing. Grunda reached out to softly stroke his eyelids
shut.
    A woman's shrill shriek made her flinch.
Grunda quickly took off her cloak and laid it over the dead man
from neck to toe, shielding his mangled body from his wife's
eyes.
    A