Page 101 of Iron Blade

“God! Are you okay?” I went to her, just as an older woman rushed to her side, dumping a rag to the ground to clean up whatever stew she’d been making.

“Sorry, Miss…” the girl said, catching her breath. “Oh my God! I mean… Missus! Oh God. Please don’t tell Mr. Eoghan…”

Her eyes darted around, landing on Malinda, who stood like she was his mistress, trying to assert herself in front everyone. Was she going to be a problem? Probably.

But I had faith in the infatuation of my husband. I could have her fired in an instant.

I was becoming confident in this life, the more my husband spent his evenings plying me with loving words about us, and our future. Our children – all twelve of them, if he had his way.

My youth had been spent with just me and my father. The idea of having a big brood of children underfoot wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

I looked at the fiery haired Malinda, as if daring her to try and strike that future from me. Not that she could. She was long forgotten when she was out of sight. I would have Eoghan talk to her about her skirts though - they were entirely too short. It was practically obscene.

“I won’t tell my husband you called me Miss,” I said to the girl who had dropped the pan, though I didn’t take my eyes off of my enemy. “But I was just looking for something to snack on. Crackers and bread will do.”

Of course, there would be. What the hell were the pantries for?

“Oh, Miss, I can bring it up,” the girl said, with a curtsy.

“No, I have two working hands. I can just bring it up to our room.”

The women looked back and forth at each other, suddenly sharing a secret that I didn’t understand.

“It’s down in the basement, Miss…us.” Malinda said, her voice dripping with brittle anger. “I’ll go fetch it.”

That sounded like a dare.

“No thanks,” I said, probably just to be contrary. “I’ll get it. Please just point the way.”

“The bread, crackers and such will be down in the basement, to the left. We’ve got a little pantry there, with a stone hearth that the Greens prefer to use. They think it gives the bread a bit of that old world flavor…” Malinda was giving way too much detail, and it all reeked of a woman who wanted to tell me that she knew better than I did.

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Miss.”

She didn’t correct herself.

Malinda pursed her lips as if she had gotten something on me… fat chance.

For a moment, I was filled with dread over what I could find in an old house’s basement. A cask of Amantillado? Skeletons? A long, frightening crypt, with the skeletons of old, extinct dragons? Maybe some mutant turtles, mentored by a sagacious rat?

She pointed to a door, and without giving any of my strange thoughts away, I opened it and saw that stone steps lead down to a lit hallway. Well, that was a good start. It smelled like all basements - stagnant water and stone. I stepped down without a look back at the girls, even though I could feel a sense of insecurity wafting from them - plus Malinda’s malice.

The way to the bread pantry was simple enough. There was an open room to the left, the wooden door left ajar. The walls, true to Malinda’s word, were stacked with bread stuff, labeled in metal containers and other air-tight containers. Rice, grains, and yes… bread that looked like it had just popped out from the large belly hearth on the far end, and laid down on a wooden thing with a large handle to reach into the fire.

It smelled delicious. Just like a real bakery. And they had everything. Croissants, and bagels, and everything smelled fresh. Despite the moisture outside of the pantry, this room was somehow tended and dry, perfect for conserving baked goods.

I was thinking with my stomach, no question. I was wound up with a hunger that I had never experienced before, and I was not sure what to do with myself. With my dirty hands, I reached down to grab a slice of hot, multigrain bread, prying it apart with my fingers…

I’d normally be more respectful, but my cravings were on such an all time high! Plus, I was going to be in charge of this house one day, so they’d have to just deal with it.

I didn’t even like bread most of the time, but I attributed everything to the sex. The incredible, intoxicating amount of sex.

I moaned as the buttery goodness melted in my mouth, and the nausea that had marked the exhaustion I’d felt in this house suddenly disappeared. Just to save myself the embarrassment, because I’d have to face Malinda upstairs soon, I grabbed a large bowl and filled it with breads - croissants, a bagel, some white bread, a strange little grainy loaf with a hard shell.

I was just about to climb the stairs back to the light of the kitchen when I heard a sickening sound. A sound I hadn’t heard in quite some time.

The unmistakable hit of bone and flesh, over and over again, punctuated by the grunts of a person in pain. I froze, wondering what the hell that could be. Maybe they had a slaughter house down here? The cries of animals were strangely similar to those of humans… right?

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