The Wolf and the Dove by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss Read Free Book Online

life was unimportant, but to a girl who had loved and respected her father, his had been a most dear life.
    The heated conversation ceased and the men’s attention turned to her once more. Wulfgar bellowed for one of the serfs from the hall. It was Ham, a sturdy youth of three and ten, who stumbled out with the help of a Norman boot.
    “Bury your lord,” Wulfgar commanded but found little understanding in the lad’s eyes. The Norman gestured for Aislinn to tell him his meaning, and in resignation she handed the shovel to the boy. She watched solemnly as he dug the grave, aware of the Norman bastard rousing the invaders from the hall to drag away the dead.
    Together Aislinn and Ham tied her father in a wolf pelt and dragged him into the grave, placing his mighty sword upon his breast. When the last shovelful fell atop him, Maida came forward timorously to lay across the mound of dirt and sob out her sorrows.
    “A priest!” she wept. “The grave must be blessed.”
    “Yea, mother,” Aislinn murmured. “One will be fetched.”
    This small bit of reassurance Aislinn would dare offer Maida, though she had no clue as to how she might send for a priest. Darkenwald’s chapel, deserted after the death of its priest several months back, had been reduced to rubble by a fire shortly after. The friar at Cregan had served the people of Darkenwald in the absence of another clergyman. But to go for him would be taking her life in her hands even if she could manage to leave without being seen, which was highly unlikely. Her horse was tied in the barn where some of the Normans made their pallets. She knew the full weight of her helplessness and was strongly aware of her inability to give Maida much comfort. Yet her mother was treading dangerously close to madness and Aislinn feared that disappointment would push her over the brink.
    Aislinn lifted her gaze to where Wulfgar stood. He was taking the armor from his horse, and by this action she knew he intended staying at Darkenwald rather than at Cregan. Darkenwald was the likely choice, for though the town had fewer people, the hall was larger and more suitable to the needs of an army. Erland had planned it so with forethought for the future. Built mostly of stone, it was less susceptible to fires and attacks than the hall at Cregan which was built entirely of wood. Yea, Wulfgar would be staying and by his word Aislinn knew she would be serving his pleasures. With her own fear of being claimed anew by this fearsome invader, she found it difficult to offer encouragement to anyone.
    “Lady?” Ham began.
    She turned to see that the lad was looking at her. He, too, had become aware of her mother’s state and now looked to Aislinn for authority. His eyes questioned. Guidance was what he sought in dealing with these men whose very language confused him. Wearily Aislinn shrugged, unable to give him an answer, and turning from him, she slowly walked toward Wulfgar. The Norman glanced around as she approached and ceased his labors. With great hesitancy Aislinn moved closer to man and beast, surveying the huge horse in some awe. She felt more than a little apprehensive coming near him.
    Wulfgar stroked the silky mane, holding the bit in his hand as he looked at her. Aislinn took a deep breath.
    “My lord,” she said stiffly. The title came hard, but for the sake of her mother’s sanity and that these men of Darkenwald might have a Christian burial, she would swallow her pride for a time. Her voice grew stronger with her determination. “A small request I might ask—”
    He nodded, saying nothing, but she was aware of his eyes, keen, yet dispassionate upon her. She sensed his distrust and she wanted to curse him for a foreigner, an intruder in their lives. She had never found it easy to appear docile. Even the times her father raged at her over some disputed point, such as her reluctance to choose a suitor, she would stand stubborn and willful, unafraid of his thundering anger while