Untamed

Chapter One
Spring in the Reign of King Henry I Northern England

The sound of a war horn sliced through the day, announcing the coming of Blackthorne Keep's new lord. As though summoned, a dark shape condensed out of the mist ... a knight in full armor riding a huge stallion. Horse and man seemed one, indivisible, fierce with the male power singing in their blood like a storm.

"They say he is a devil, m'lady the widow Eadith muttered.

"They say that of all Norman knights," Meg said to her handmaiden with desperate calm, " yet among them surely there must be men of Kind and generous hearts."

Eadith made a sound that could have been a throttled laugh.

"Nay, mistress." Tis fitting that your bridegroom wears chain mail and rides a savage destrier. There is whispering of war."

"There will be no war," Meg said firmly. "That is why I will wed--to end the bloodletting.

"Do not mislead yourself . War is more likely to be waged than a wedding," Eadith announced with savage satisfaction. Death to the Norman invaders!"

"Silence," Meg said softly. "I will hear no talk of war."

Eadith's mouth thinned, but she spoke no more of war.Standing at a high window of the keep, shielded from view by a partly closed shutter Meg searched the land for the riding household that must have accompanied the warrior, who would soon become her husband. Nothing moved behind the war-horse but silver mist twisting above the fields. The horn had been sounded by someone hidden within the forest that lay beyond the keep's cultivated land.

Horse and chain mail-dad knight loomed larger with every moment, riding openly up to the keep, fearing nothing. No retainers hurned behind the knight no squires appeared leading war-horses or pack animals burdened with the shmmg metal tools of war. Against all custom, Dominic le Sabre approached the Saxon keep with nothing but the war horn's deep cry attending him.

"This one is truly the Devil wearing man's flesh," Eadith said, crossing herself. I would never wed him.,,

"Quite true. 'Tis my hand to be given, not yours.,"

'May God save you," Eadith muttered. I tremble for you, my lady, since you have not the wit to tremble for yourself!"

I am the last of an ancient and proud line, Meg said in a husky voice. "What is a nameless Norman bastard to make a daughter of Glendruid tremble?"

Yet even as Meg spoke, fear washed coolly down her spine. The closer Dominic le Sabre rode, the more she feared her handmaiden was right.

"God be with you, m'lady, for 'tis certain tile Devil will be!"