Page 20 of Forbidden

An outraged squawking and screeching from the yard announced that Erik’s hounds had discovered the chickens. As Amber opened the front door, the hound master blew on his horn, calling the dogs back to order.

The youngest hound in the pack didn’t come to the command. The half-grown dog had just discovered an old goose. Certain of an easy rout, the hound romped forward with delighted barks. The gander arched its long neck, lowered its head, spread its wings, and hissed menacingly.

The hound kept coming.

“Erik,” Amber said, “call him off!”

“It will do him good.”

“But—”

The rangy, rough-coated dog attacked. The gander’s right wing came down in a blur of motion. The hound was knocked off its feet. Crying in surprise and pain, the dog scrambled upright and raced back to the pack, tail tucked low.

Erik laughed so hard it upset the peregrine riding on a perch on the pommel of his saddle. Silver bells on the trailing ends of the jesses jangled harshly, telling of the bird’s disturbance. The falcon flared its narrow, elegant wings and gave a sharp, piercing cry.

Erik’s answering whistle was as high and wild as the falcon’s. The bird cocked her head and whistled again. This cry was different, as was Erik’s whistled response.

The falcon folded its wings and was quiet once more.

Swift glances passed among the squires and knights who were hunting with Erik. His uncanny way with wild beasts was a matter of much speculation among the people. Though none called Erik sorcerer to his face, men whispered it among themselves.

“Be easy, my beauty,” Erik said softly.

He stroked the bird with his bare hand. His other hand wore a thick leather gauntlet for protection when the falcon rode his wrist.

“Robbie,” Erik said to the hound master. “Take the hounds and my men off to the forest. You’re disturbing Amber’s peace.”

Amber opened her mouth to say that wasn’t true. A glance from Erik silenced her. Without a word, Amber waited until the hounds, horses, and men rode back into the forest in a flurry of noise and motion.

“How fares the stranger?” Erik asked bluntly.

“Better than your hound.”

“Maybe next time Trouble will come when Robbie sounds the hunting horn.”

“Doubtful. Half-grown males have much passion and little brain.”

“I’d be insulted if I weren’t fully grown,” Erik said.

Amber widened her eyes. “Are you? Since when, my lord?”

A smile flashed and faded on Erik’s handsome face. Silently he waited for Amber to speak of the fully grown male who lay within her cottage.

“He is awake,” she said.

Erik’s right hand settled on the hilt of the sword he always wore.

“His name?” Erik demanded.

“He doesn’t remember.”

“What?”

“He remembers no names from his past, not even his own.”

“He is as cunning as a fox,” Erik said flatly. “He knows he is in enemy hands and—”

“Nay,” Amber interrupted. “He knows not whether he is Norman or Saxon, serf or thane.”