Judith E. French Read Online Free PDF Page B

stomping until the squealing stopped. The second rat escaped through a gap in the outer wall.
    “Don’t squash him too bad,” Karl shouted. “He looks fat. Might be a mite tastier than that salt pork ye bought down to Jacob’s.” Karl turned toward Fiona, and she saw the raw, blistered flesh on his burned face and smelled the stink of singed hair. “Nigel’s partial t’ roast rat, ain’t ye Nigel?”
    His one-eyed partner kicked the pallet a few more times. When no more rats fled from the bed, he said to Karl, “What I’m partial to is fresh woman. Maybe we’ll jest play a hand o’ cards to see who has her first.”
    A moan rose in Fiona’s throat, and she stifled it with a fist over her mouth. Nigel’s musket leaned against the waU next to the door. She wouldn’t give up hope yet. Trembling, she picked up a rusty iron spider. “I can cook pork or rat,” she said flatly, wiping the inside of the frying pan with the corner of her skirt. “Makes no difference to me.” She swallowed hard. “Have you got onions and potatoes in those saddlebags?”
    “Sit down and shut up,” Karl told her. “Ye get any closer t’ this fire, an’ I’ll cut ye so bad yer own mother wouldn’t look at ye.”
    “Cards, or dice,” Nigel offered. “You was always lucky at dice.”
    Karl frowned and touched his ruined face. “No need t’ play,” he said. “I get her first. I said it, an’ I stand by it.”
    Fiona gasped as Nigel’s hand flashed to his boot top and came up holding a fourteen-inch skinning knife. “Take yer chances like a man, Karl, or wait yer turn.”
    She began to move toward the door.
    “Sit, bitch,” Karl ordered.
    Fiona crouched where she was. Gooseflesh rose on her arms, and her mouth tasted of ashes. She clutched her amulet and mouthed a silent prayer.
    “Dice.” Karl grinned. “Winner keeps her all night.”
    “The hell you say,” Nigel began. “I—” He broke off as the howl of a wolf sounded only a few yards from the cabin. The mules stiffened and began to pull at their ropes, their eyes rolling in fear.
    Karl exhaled loudly. “Jeezus!”
    The bone-chilling cry came again, closer yet, and Fiona hugged herself and eyed the sagging wooden door. The mules were snorting now and pawing the dirt floor. Their ears were laid back flat on their heads.
    Suddenly there was a scratching on the far wall. “Damned wolves! I’ll give ’em something to chew on.” Karl grabbed his musket and fired through the logs. The mules went wild, kicking and braying. One broke loose, reared up, and lashed out with its hind feet.
    Fiona heard a dull plopping noise from the hearth. The fire hissed and sputtered and nearly went out as a great chunk of snow fell into the center. Another wolf howled, and Fiona jumped up and ran to grab the halters of the three mules that were still tied. She hadn’t gone a full stride when something heavy struck the outside of the door.
    Sweat was pouring down Karl’s face. “It ain’t natural,” he said, reloading the musket. “I never knowed wolves to act so.”
    Nigel’s hands were shaking as he yanked a pistol from his belt, poured powder into the frizzen, and pulled the trigger, sending a lead ball through the board door.
    The dun-colored mule Fiona was reaching for snapped its rope and began pitching around the room, hooves flying. Fiona shielded her head with her arm and backed against the wall as the rest of the mules broke free.
    A second lump of snow fell down the chimney, plunging the cabin into almost total darkness. Then, without warning, the door was wrenched open. Fiona screamed as she saw a huge wolf standing upright in the doorway. The beast’s eyes and teeth caught the last flicker of the dying fire.
    Karl’s musket roared. An instant later another shot echoed through the room. Fiona stared in disbelief as Karl groaned, clutched his chest, and fell backward against the hearth. Nigel gave a wild cry and dashed, skinning knife in hand, toward the