Tavia hurried a soothing touch to the hound’s head. “Lord Bhric means me no harm.”
“She commands him with her magic touch,” Sven whispered.
“His name?” Tavia asked, her hand remaining on the hound.
“Fen,” Bhric said, and the hound’s eyes went to him.
“Fen, it is time to go home,” Tavia said, and the hound kept to her side as they walked.
Warriors stopped and stared when they saw their leader’s petite wife walking with the large hound close at her side, and whispers started.
“Pay no one mind, Fen,” Tavia said softly. “They know not the power of a gentle touch.”
Sven stepped close to Bhric as they followed a distance behind Tavia and Fen, and whispered jokingly, “I would be careful of her touch, or she will be commanding you.”
Bhric’s anger flared in his eyes when he turned to look at his friend, and Sven grinned.
“If the hound was suffering with pain it is no wonder he had turned vicious,” Sven said. “He will be a good war dog again, once healed.”
Bhric held his tongue. He did not think the hound would go into battle again, not with the memory of lingering pain caused by the last one. And now that he knew a loving and caring touch, he would not want to surrender it.
He certainly would not. He would want to feel it again and again, and he would never want to be far from it. He would want to keep it as close as possible, never let it go, cherish it.
“Go see that Harald is ready for our arrival,” Bhric ordered Sven and he took off. He raised his voice enough for his wife to hear him. “Fen stays with Harald.”
“As you say, my lord,” Tavia said.
Why did he have his doubts?
Harald waited with shackle and chain, and Bhric mumbled an oath beneath his breath when he saw it, knowing his wife’s reaction when she spotted it.
“You will not chain him,” Tavia called out when she saw the chain. “His neck wound will not heal shackled. He needs rest and care.”
“He is a hound,” Harald said as if that explained it.
“An injured hound who trusted no one or believed no one cared enough to tend him,” Tavia said.
“Hounds do not think that way,” Harald said.
“You think you send only foolish hounds into battle?” Tavia argued.
“Obedient ones,” Bhric said to Harald’s relief.
“So, you have no loyal dogs only obedient ones?” Tavia asked.
“Obedient or loyal, there is no difference,” Bhric argued.
“There is a tremendous difference,” she corrected.
Anger tinged Bhric’s command. “You will not argue with me, wife. Leave the animal now.”
A low, warning growl came from Fen.
“Not to worry, Fen,” Tavia said calmly, petting the hound’s head. “Lord Bhric may sound brutish, but he has a good heart.”
Bhric motioned to Harald and the man stepped forward with the chains once again.
Tavia stepped in front of Fen. “I told you his neck wound will not heal if he is chained.”