Forsaken Soul Read Online Free Page A

the tales before she took him into her bed, but she imagined she could turn his heart away from a woman who was now a nun. Instead, he cried out Sister Anne’s name while swyving Signy.
    “Had he wanted something more than a mere vessel in which to release his seed,” she muttered, “I could have been patient and taught him how kindly I could love. Instead, he ran off to court and married a woman with land. Fa!” She spat. “No better than his greedy boor of a brother, he is.”
    An arm brushed against her breast.
    Signy felt her face turn hot with angry humiliation, and she reached for her pin.
    The man looked down at her, blinking with drunken concentration. “I meant nothing. I was pushed,” he slurred, nervously casting his glance sideways to measure the distance to the inn door should the innkeeper seek amends.
    Signy nodded forgiveness and then pushed a path through the bodies toward the door herself. When she reached cooler air, her thoughts slipped back to the deceitful crowner. At least she had not quickened with child from her brief bedding with Ralf before he deserted her. She shook with a brief chill.
    A pregnancy would have caused her much difficulty at the inn. Although some in the village suspected that she had granted her favors to the man, there was no obvious proof that she had shared her bed with Ralf. Rumors were whispered, but they often were even where there was no truth in the tales. Had she provided evidence with a rounded belly, however, many would have called her
whore
as they did Ivetta, and men would have expected similar service.
    The moment her courses failed she could have sought out old Tibia. Sin though it was, women in the village often did, willing to do penance rather than chance hunger by failing to help at harvest time or see yet another wee loved one die. But this would have been Ralf’s child. Would she have rid herself of a babe she might have loved? With clenched fist against her heart, she thanked God she had not had to make that choice.
    “Sweet Signy!” a merry fellow shouted as he exited the inn. “The ale tastes bitter without you to serve it.”
    “Yet it seems you have drunk enough of it not to know which soft hand passed you that last jug!”
    The man belched with good cheer, gave a genial wave, and staggered down the road to his bed.
    Watching him, she mused how strange it was that reputation depended on what rumors were about and the credence given them. As long as a woman was not flagrant with her lovers, others could pretend she was virtuous if they had little else to quarrel with her about. That was a fragile state of affairs, but, truth be told, she had taken few enough lovers to keep the rumble of gossip low. Ralf had been the first in a long time, and she had lain with him only once. Since then, she had been chaste enough, although some now claimed she had caught Tostig’s eye.
    She sighed and walked back into the inn. Would she mind if that were the case? Despite coming to the inn many evenings and speaking at length with both her and her uncle, the tall Saxon had yet to claim any love for her, nor had he even suggested they lie together. Perhaps his only interest at the inn lay in the priory ale he had to sell.
    Signy glanced back in the direction of the now-invisible crowner, tossed her head, and picked up a sweating jug. Tostig was a handsome man, she decided. If he begged sweetly, she might consider taking him to bed. That was a thought pleasant enough to soothe her bruised heart.
    She smiled and served a table of thirsty men.
    As she looked around for others in need of food or drink, she was relieved not to see either Hob or Will. If God were kind, they would have left. Of the two brothers, Hob was usually harmless. Although sullen in nature, he avoided confrontation when by himself. Will, on the other hand, was both choleric and brutal. That noted, the brothers caused trouble when Will had had too much to drink. Although prone to starting fights, he