“You’ll eat today and well,” he said now, patting her head. “And I’ll give you bits to sell. You’ll come with me.”
They left the room, and she capered across the yard behind him, followed him down narrow alleys till they arrived at the Hog Lane shambles. Other butchers greeted him. “Where you been, Abel?” “Got a lady friend, Strong?” they called. He ignored them all, went to his favoured bench. A pig carcass, gutted and scalded, swung on a rail nearby, one of a dozen. He hoisted it down, flung it onto the wood, picked up a cleaver, hefting its weight, gauging its balance. A finger pressed conjured a line of blood on his thumb. Blood, he thought, tasting. That’s right.
He was always one of the fastest, and today he was inspired. Others yelled in admiration as he severed the pig in half, f
