“Why would you think I was with a barbaric tribe?” Ruddock asked, walking away from Tarass to refill his goblet with wine.
Tarass swiped his goblet off the table and walked over to Ruddock and held it out to him. “There were tales of a giant man who was spotted on raids with the barbarian tribes of the far north. I thought them just that tales, until one day I met an old woman who had seen the giant with her own eyes. That’s when I began searching for you.”
Ruddock filled both their goblets and returned to one of the two chairs in front of the crackling fire.
Tarass joined him, taking the other chair.
“You look for the man who killed your parents,” Ruddock said.
“Viciously murdered my parents,” Tarass corrected. “A wee bairn was the only one to survive the attack on the small village my parents had sought shelter in for the night. The child kept talking about a giant, but he was so small that most anyone would be a giant to him. I foolishly dismissed him. Then sometime later after hearing the tale grow, I met an old woman who had seen him when a tribe came through their village. Reddock, she called him, though later, as I learned more, I realized she meant Ruddock. The description she gave me fits you perfectly.”
“And many like me.”
“Except there are few who have gone on raids with barbaric tribes,” Tarass said. “So I ask you. Are you the giant who killed my parents?”
“What village?” Ruddock asked, nightmares rising up to torment him.
“Sandvik,” Tarass said and his stomach clenched when Ruddock’s eyes squeezed shut and his face scrunched in agony.
“That was a bloodbath,” Ruddock said as he opened his eyes. “A rogue tribe was responsible for it. Banishment is a form of punishment among the tribes, and if you meet that fate, then no other tribe will accept you. You will be alone, on your own to survive. Those who are discarded often band together and form a rogue tribe. Some of those rogue tribes can be vicious and with no astute leadership they never last. The other tribes usually see to their demise. The rogue tribe you speak of was dealt with swiftly and there had not been any talk about a giant among them. Whoever killed your parents are dead.”
“There was a giant among them and he killed my parents, and I intend to kill him,” Tarass said in warning.
“Then you waste your time with me, since I took no part of that atrocity. It is another giant you’re after.”
Tarass shot a heated glare at Ruddock. “I’m supposed to take your word for it?”
“It is the truth. I care not if you believe me, but you waste your time if you don’t.” Ruddock stood. “I have much to see to before I return home.”
Tarass got to his feet quickly. “If you are lying to me—”
“You know where I will be,” Ruddock said.
Tarass went to the door but before opening it, he turned and asked. “What makes you so sure that all in that rogue tribe are dead?”
“Because I’m the one who hunted each of them down and killed them.”
Sorrell needed to clear her head of all the endless thoughts that refused to leave her be. She decided the best way to achieve that was with work. Keeping busy would not give her a chance to think. There were baskets of food in the kitchen waiting to be stored in the new shed. She’d find Melvin and Dole and set them to the task.
She stopped when she entered the kitchen. Several Northwick warriors were busy carrying the food baskets out.
Sorrell walked over to Dorrit. “What goes on here?”
“Lord Ruddock ordered his warriors to see to filling the new food storage shed under my direction. It is almost done. He also ordered his warriors to hunt and see that the meat shed is made full for winter.” Dorrit’s whole face lit with a smile. “It will be a good winter for the clan. No fear of starving and no worry of battle with Clan MacLoon.” A tear touched the corner of her eye. “You did good by the clan, Sorrell.”
Sorrell did her best to smile and left Dorrit directing the warriors at their task. She walked through the village bewildered by the busy activity going on and the joy on the peoples’ faces.
“It’s a miracle it is,” Melvin said, raising the tankard he held in his hand. “My good friend Lord Ruddock does well by us.”
“Melvin,” a man shouted, “come drink with us and tell us more about Lord Ruddock.”
Melvin grinned. “You are a good soul, Sorrell. You have done well for the clan.”
Sorrell heard it again and again as she walked through the village. Her thoughts had been so busy on John that she hadn’t realized the extent of the benefits to her clan that her marriage to Lord Ruddock would bring.