SIXTEEN
Hunger woke Melitta. She stretched, stiff from sleeping on the ground, but she'd been too tired to care. Judging by the light, it was mid-afternoon – she'd slept half the day. Not nearly long enough, but she was too hungry to stay asleep. What she wouldn't give for a plate of stew like she'd eaten last night. Or a chunk of roasted boar...
She'd killed the beast. King Erik had always made a point of offering the first morsel of meat to the hunter who landed the killing blow at hunt feasts. Those townspeople owed her that much. Ungrateful peasants.
"Sir George," she called, softly at first, then a little louder, until the cloak-shrouded form on the grass shifted.
"Mmph?"
"Sir George, perhaps we should seek out an inn, for a bed and a meal. Where are we headed next?"
George sa
