Sorrell would not hear such nonsense. “I know my husband and he is a good man.”
“He is not a good man… he is evil,” Erland whispered harshly and hurried to enter the solar, closing the door behind him.
Why would Erland think Ruddock evil? There were far too many things that didn’t make sense and it was time to find out why.
Erskine had suggested that Sorrell be shown the keep and become familiar with it before he began explaining the running of it, and she agreed. She requested that Blodwen be her guide since she was certain Erskine was too busy for the task and he had eagerly agreed.
“I’m so pleased to have been given this task, my lady,” Blodwen said as she entered Sorrell’s private bedchamber.
“I am as well, Blodwen,” she said and went to a peg on the wall and grabbed two cloaks, handing one to Blodwen. “But first a walk through the village for some fresh air.”
Blodwen nodded and took the cloak and once out on the keep’s steps Sorrell stopped and cast a glance out over the castle grounds. The size of it amazed her. There were cottages neatly lined up beside one another and on both sides of the various roads that ran through the village. Patches of good-sized gardens could be seen behind the cottages. There was even a church that sat on a small mound of land in the center of the village, cottages around all sides of it and two roads leading from it.
“I’ve never seen a village the size of this one,” Sorrell said. “And so well kept.”
“It does surprise some when first seen. Lord Finn insists the village, the keep, everything here be well-maintained, he wouldn’t have it kept any other way.”
Yet the man didn’t bathe. So was it the strength of the healer’s influence or Finn’s strong desire to live that made him follow the healer’s orders without question?
“Can you take me to the healer’s cottage?” Sorrell asked.
“Of course, my lady, this way,” Blodwen said and turned down a road a few steps from the keep.
Sorrell smiled at the various people they passed, ready to call out greetings, but most turned away from her. Some avoided looking at her at all. A couple of woman who appeared ready to respond to her greeting were yanked by their arms and given a tongue lashing by their husbands. Several women wouldn’t even let their children near her, calling out to them to return home when she got near them.
It was quite puzzling, since none there knew her. How then could they judge her?
A couple of cottages up ahead stood a man a few feet from his cottage door. His red beard was as thick as his long hair and the same color, and even from a distance one could see anger stirring in his dark eyes. He looked to have been a sizeable man at one time, but no more, his garments appearing to hang on him and though taller than most other men, though not as tall as her husband, there was a slump to his shoulders that made him appear shorter. His left arm hung at his side at an odd angle and as Sorrell got closer she could see the arm was lifeless.
“Come in, Hugh,” the woman who appeared at the door urged.
“No, Lana, I want to see the harlot who wed the devil,” Hugh said, looking straight at Sorrell.
“Hugh!’ Lana scolded. “Come in at once before you make matters worse.”
“We should turn the other way, my lady,” Blodwen said just as the two warriors following Sorrell stepped around them.
“Enough, Hugh. Keep a civil tongue around Lady Sorrell, or you’ll be in the stocks,” one of the warriors warned.
“Hugh, please,” his wife begged teary-eyed. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“Pay heed to your wife’s worries, Hugh, and go inside,” the one warrior cautioned.
“What difference does it make?” Hugh asked with a huff. “I’ll be in the stocks soon enough once the devil finds out I called his wife a harlot.”
“You spoke up knowing the consequences. You have no one to blame but yourself,” Sorrell said, stepping around the two warriors.
“There’s plenty of blame and it doesn’t fall on me,” Hugh spat.
“Are you implying that the blame falls on my husband?” Sorrell asked.
“You know nothing,” Hugh challenged. “If you did, you would have never wed him.”
“Please, my lady, he’s into his cups. He means no harm,” Lana pleaded, taking hold of her husband’s good arm and trying to pull him into the cottage.
Sorrell agreed with her. He did appear to be into his cups and the fear on the wife’s face seemed genuine.
“Leave me be, woman,” Hugh said, yanking his arm away from his wife. “I’ll hold my tongue no more.”
“Then you’ll wind up just like Lander if you don’t weigh your words,” his wife cautioned anxiously.