Tuesday Tales: Writing Rancid

Welcome to Tuesday Tales, a weekly blog featuring diverse authors posting excerpts from their works in progress based on word and picture prompts. I’m pleased you stopped by today. This week’s word prompt is rancid. My snippet is from a medieval romance featuring a knight and a lady caught in times of turmoil and war. I’m excited to work in my favorite reading genre. Enjoy the other authors of Tuesday Tales.

Reese stiffened, as the woman he cradled against him shifted again, causing him to adjust his own seat and take the reins with his opposite hand. His breath caught for a moment and then resumed a more shallow rhythm. Focusing on breathing kept him from encircling her lush body with his free arm and drawing her even closer. His men would surely have something to say about that, as would the garrulous harridan called Agnes. If eyes could spark a fire, that one would have set him ablaze by now with her scrutiny and constant harangue about keeping his “hairy paws” off her “angel” lest he bruise her tender flesh.

The trouble was he had become all too aware of Alis’ tender flesh during the miles they had traveled two astride. It now dawned on him, though, that at the moment she was anything but tender. In fact, she appeared to be bristling. Reese honed in on the waves of disapproval hurling back at him. He heard her mutter beneath her breath. The lady was obviously in a ripe snit about something.

“What spake you, Lady Alis?”

“Tis none of your concern.”

A half smile creased his lips. This was better. He would rather quarrel than be lusting after her. “Something puckers your lips like a draught of rancid wine. What is amiss this time? Are you overly dusty? Saddle sore? Ready to poke out my eye with the dagger you keep hidden beneath your skirt?”

The last brought a sharp retort as she half turned, eyes blazing into his. She stopped of a sudden and blinked, anger vanishing. Her eyes widened, staring up at him. He was caught in their warmth and softness. Those golden flecks…

A warning from the lead man Dalbert caught their attention. Reese and Alis turned to face a rider racing toward the train. Hugh, the scout he had sent to attain high ground and report back. “Why come you from the east?” Reese demanded.

Hugh pulled in close, along with Dalbert. “I took the precaution of circling around. We are being followed. Several men, maintaining at two furlongs. I like it not. They are diligent in their silence.”

Reese frowned, noticing an audible gasp from Alis. “Not accidental then, and not interested in confrontation, or they would be closing in. Mayhap tracking for an upland force. Tighten formation, proceed as we have been, but with caution. Have Bardolph safeguard Old Agnes. We must expect an ambush.”

“There is a ridge ahead if we can but make it before a strike.”

Reese nodded curtly, and the men moved to follow his orders. Alis turned toward him again, her face awash with concern. He placed his arm around her waist. “Fear not, lady. Whatever happens, hold atight.”

I hope you enjoyed the snippet based on the word prompt rancid. Thanks for stopping by. Return to Tuesday Tales.

Cheers & Happy Reading!

Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance

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