“I do be believin’ she is truly getting a damnsite better if yew be excusin’ my language yer Lordship”, Hepsie’s dark skin blushed prettily as she checked herself for swearing.

Radomir found himself charmed. He was in a good mood today, and the little woman had done so much for his wife. The night before Valeriya had finally allowed him to kiss her, her mouth soft and pliant beneath his. Afterwards, she had rested her tired head against his chest. And he had not even had to force her! She had done it of her own volition. He felt warm inside at the memory of her wispy golden hair tickling his chin, her flushed face drowsily drooping against his fluttering heart.

“An’ of course she be puttin’ on a lot of new weight which is a good thing though I’m guessin’ yew be knowin’ the reason why as well as I be”, she winked at him as he stared at her confused.

But his jubilation was such that he glazed over the strange comment and continued listening. He supposed Hepsie believed he had been bringing her sweets, though he had obeyed her advice in everything despite their many arguments over her ministrations. Secretly he had a massive respect for the young woman that had grown phenomenally in the past months. She had managed to nurse his wife back to health from the very gates of the dead and for that he would be forever thankful.

“She let me kiss her last night!” it suddenly popped out as he found himself desperate to tell someone and having noone to tell. He felt giddy, like the shy, young boy he had once been finally working up the courage to steal a kiss from the sun drenched lips of a plump, blonde milkmaid behind the barn.

She wiggled her eyebrows at him, “Well then Yer Lordship, I think we both be knowin’ she let yew do a lot more than that”.

She shook her finger at him as though he were a naughty child with a widening grin, “An’ after all the good advice I been givin’ yew too”.

“Men will be bein’ men I suppose”, she sighed melodramatically and then cast a flippant grin up at him.

Radomir’s smile grew brittle as he tried to comprehend what she was saying. What was it she was accusing him of. He had done no more than kiss Valeriya for longer than he cared to remember.

“I don’t understand Goodwife Cade”, he forced the words out between his clenched teeth, frightened of what the answer would be but not understanding quite why.

“Aww yew big dunce. Yew men are all bein’ the same. Can’t be seein’ the answer if it be starin’ yew straight in the face”, she laughed up at him.

Suddenly the smile that had seemed so friendly and kind a moment was twisted into a mocking grin. And he had trusted this woman. Now she was laughing at him just like all the rest. He didn’t know why he had ever expected something different.

“She’s pregnant yew ninny”, she exclaimed, rows of teeth golden in the flickering candelight, “though I must admit I did not see it myself. I was thinkin’ her lack of women’s troubles was bein’ because of the illness but today I was feelin’ the littl’un move”.

He barely heard past the first sentence, her voice muffled by the ringing in his ears as his body was suffused with hot, molten rage. His hand flew back of its own volition to strike her filthy, lying mouth. It hung in the air for a long moment, twitching like an insect caught in a web as he tried to control his need for her pain.

Finally it dropped to his side where he grasped a large bunch of his tunic and hissed through gritted teeth, “What did you just say wench?”.

Hepsie was gazing at him, her mouth sagging open in surprise. He had a vivid image of him standing above her, his hands twisted in her hair as he thrust into that slutty, open mouth while she squealed and struggled against him.

His throat caught in dismay as he strived to control his burgeoning anger. It was no good, he was losing himself in the labryinth of white hot rage that ever dwelt within him and he did not know how to find his way back amongst the twisting paths and dead ends.

She was still staring at him but her mouth had slowly closed and now her lips were pressed tightly together in a thin line.

“Yer wife Me Lord. The Countess. She’s bein’ with child”, she whispered.

“That little bitch”, his voice was a low thundering, growl that he could barely recognise as it ripped from his throat.

“Get out of my way Goodwife”, he tried to push past her to the door behind which his unfaithful wife lay.

“But yer Lordship. She don’t know it yet! An’ yew musn’ hurt her. She’ll be losin’ it again!”, Hepsie clawed at his massive body in panic trying to block his path.

“Get out of my way slut!”, he roared, gripping her shoulders and throwing her little body to the side.

She hit the salt warped walls with a thud and went sliding down the floor. He heard her moan in pain and some part of him hoped he had not hurt her. But that part was buried beneath so many layers of anger and rage he barely thought it at all. He reached out a throbbing hand and threw open the door.

Cade, Moraghdu