Some glares were sent her way, disapproving ones, and she wondered over them, then realized it had to be her garments that upset a few. She wasn’t dressed as most wives… she was dressed as most warriors. She kept walking, ignoring the judgmental stares until a woman’s pleading cry brought her to an abrupt stop.
“No, Ober, please don’t—”
The frightened plea had Raven turning just as a large hand connected with a young woman’s face. She would have collapsed from the vicious blow if the man hadn’t had a strong grip on the woman’s slim arm.
The woman pleaded again when the man raised his hand. “Please, no, Ober.”
“Hit her again and I’ll gut you,” Raven cried out, stopping the man’s hand in mid-air as she walked toward him.
Ober turned, his face filled with rage. “Mind your own.”
“It is my own now with your leader marrying me and I’ll not have any man taking a hand to any woman,” Raven ordered, not showing a bit of fear as she came to stand right in front of him. “LET HER GO!”
Ober drew his head back as if recoiling from a slap in the face at her loud command. “She’s my wife.”
“Something you need to remember,” Raven accused.
“And something that has nothing to do with you,” Ober shot back.
“It certainly does when you raise your hand to a defenseless woman.”
“She’s my wife,” Ober repeated as if that justified his actions.
“Let me make this clear for you, since you haven’t the brains to understand it,” Raven said, shaking a fist at Ober. “Any man who raises his hand to a woman in this village will be punished.”
Ober laughed right in Raven’s face. “Wolf will put you in your place soon enough.”
Raven’s hand shot out so fast, the man had no time to react, catching his cheek with a hard slap. His other cheek caught an even more vicious slap and left his cheek to redden with her handprint.
Ober released his wife with a shove that sent her stumbling while his hand rushed to his face. Rage stirred in his eyes as he felt the welt growing.
“Twice. You hit her twice from what I can see on her tender face.” She turned to the stunned woman. “Did he hit you more than that?”
Ober yelled at his wife. “Keep your mouth shut.”
Raven delivered another vicious blow to this cheek, so hard it stung her palm. “You answered for her. You raise a hand to her, I raise a hand to you.” She jabbed him in the chest. “Do I make myself clear?”
Ober’s face reddened with fury and he clenched his hands at his sides. Both were telltale signs that he fought to contain himself. If she wasn’t Wolf’s wife, he would have taken a hand to her. And oh how she wished he would. She wanted to give him what he richly deserved.
“You want to strike me, don’t you?” Raven said, giving him another jab. “Now you know what it’s like to feel helpless, not able to retaliate against someone causing you harm and fear.”
“I don’t fear you,” Ober spat.
“You should,” Raven warned with another jab.
“Wolf will have something to say about this,” Ober threatened.
“You’re right, I do have something to say.”
Raven turned not only to see her husband standing there, but also Gorm, as well as several villagers. The fury in her husband’s eyes made her wonder if it was meant for her. Had she overstepped her bounds? She didn’t care. There was no way she would stand by and let a man beat on a helpless woman. Ober was three times the size of his wife.
“Are you all right, Dearyn?” Wolf asked.
“Aye, sir,” Dearyn said, a tremble to her words.
“Tell him. Tell him why I hit you,” Ober said.
Raven wanted to hit him again, forcing his wife to condone what he did.
“I was clumsy and spilled a hot brew on his hand,” Dearyn said and Ober held his left hand out to show a red spot on the back as proof.
“You strike her three times for a burn that is barely visible?” Raven shook her head. “You’re a coward.”
Ober’s knuckles turned white he gripped his fists so tight and he looked ready to charge at Raven. “I’m no coward and I am a good husband. Isn’t that right, Dearyn?”
“Aye. Aye, Ober is a good husband,” Dearyn said, her slim fingers twisting her apron in a knot.
Wolf spoke up loud and clear for everyone to hear. “You’re three times your wife’s size, Ober. DON’T hit her again.”
Ober looked ready to argue.
“My word is final!” Wolf commanded. “If you strike her again, you will suffer three strikes for each one you give her. And I will gladly deliver each one myself.”
Raven was pleased to see the fear suddenly replace the fury in Ober’s eyes. Her husband must deliver a powerful punch if it caused fright in Ober.