THIRTY-SEVEN
As Bernard crossed the floor to lift the bar across the door, Ursula made for the fire. She threw a couple of logs onto the blaze, heedless of the sparks that spat as the two lay together atop the coals. She would do this. She would give herself to Bernard, because she loved him and wanted him and he was the man she chose to share her nights with.
She no longer needed a husband with a strong army to defend them, if it was true what he said about bears. Because if the tales were true, then she had an army of her own far greater than anything Lord Vauquelin could field.
But that was for tomorrow. Tomorrow she would wake the townspeople, and ask them to fight. But tonight...tonight was for Bernard, a man who was more lover than fighter. A man who said he loved her.
Ursula
