Careful not to step on a centipede, the venomous insect having crept out from beneath the feathery fronds of a maidenhair fern, Avice ambled along the wooded path.

To think the new overlord of the moors had refused to blame even a lowly hedgehog for his injury! Though she had called up the creature for just that intended purpose, the lord had foregone the readymade excuse and had, himself, accepted the full responsibility for the mishap.

Owing to that morn’s revelation, she now entertained some niggling concerns about the nobleman’s guilt in her attempted rape. Trifling inconsistencies that warranted further investigation --

Avice bit her lip. Truth to tell, ere this morn, doubts about the Norman’s complicity had crept into her mind.

Which went to explain her actions of that prior eve.

Unable to cast her pesky doubts aside, she had succumbed to impartiality. Letting go of her bad opinion of all nobles in general, she had summoned up one noble in specific. She needed him to answer a few pertinent questions regarding her close call with rape.

Such as -- what had motivated the gift of his cloak? A garment, she now admitted, had prevented the hounds from ripping her apart. The thick fur had masked her scent and sent the dogs running in circles. Was the garment a means of rescue? Or, a means to humiliate her? What a jest, hunting down the naked peasant lass dressed up like a fox ...

Of course, had Gralam condescended to explain his logic a twelvemonth ago, she would entertain no nagging questions now.

Nor would he suffer a game leg.

Had he shown himself innocent of intended wrongdoing, ne’er would she have called for his steed to throw him. Even later, lying on the ground, his leg broken, he could have explained himself. Had he proved himself innocent then, she would have seen to setting the bone straight. But cold arrogance defined the Norman’s temperament, as a hot temper defined hers. Now, they both paid the price for their natures.

Bad enough her neglect went against her healer’s beliefs. That causing another pain blatantly disregarded all the fundamental rules of her craft. But suppose, just suppose, she had injured and laid a curse on the head of someone utterly blameless. Someone -- a hero, in fact -- who had prevented her group rape. What then?

All well and good to say her callous abandonment of an injured man filled her with regret. Remorse alone was insufficient. What would she do to rectify the situation?

Make him amends, of course.

How?

She would just have to wait and see, she supposed.

As to punishment -- her atonement must fit the crime.

Raising the skirts of her loose tan gunna, then shimmying her brown tunica up to her waist, Avice backed up to a boulder draped in moss. The patch of green would provide a soft cushion for her bare haunches. After parting her thighs, she diddled her wet passage with first one finger, next two, and then applied her thumb just so.

Ah ...

Her jaw gone slack, her fingers beating out a shallow rhythm, her thumb pressing, pressing, pressing, she began to pleasure herself.

She needed this. Needed to fortify herself ere beginning her search for the truth. Carnal release strengthened her witch’s power. She did hunger so! A dark, ungentle, earthy hunger. A hunger that possessed a life of its own. A hunger that ebbed and flowed according to her woman’s courses.

And the sequence of the full moon.

O’er the next few days, both those cycles would join forces. The coincidental convergence would increase her desire for a man.

And not just any man would do her.

Lord Gralam. Now there be a man who would do her very well, indeed. The Norman would understand her base desires. No qualms about it, the swarthy-skinned, dark-haired, dark-eyed, overlord would ken how to satisfy her. His fleshy lips, carved for kisses, told her so.

Built on elegant lines, his muscles long and lean, rather than bulging and brawny, he possessed strength no less powerful for the refinement. Beneath his fine court manners, she sensed some wondrously base appetites. He would lock her in his arms, ply his open mouth to hers, ram his hard fingers up inside her, and stroke her ’till she ... ’till she ...