Samantha slept in, exhausted from the drama of raiders, the worry of losing Faren to a Viking sword, the wedding day and the night of dancing. What a whirlwind of a time it had been since Faren had brought her to stay with Maric and Nimue. How dear and funny Nimue was about thinking that she and Faren were lovers without the benefit of the Church’s blessing. Samantha was understanding that Nimue was not a Christian at all but a pagan. She had thought all pagans were great sinners and that many were bedecked with horns while sporting a tail, but Nimue wasn’t that way at all.<br/><br/>Nimue had talked with her about being proud of her woman’s body but Samantha didn’t know about that. The Church taught that women’s bodies were evil. Why even the first Mother, Eve, had been a temptress, causing the fall of mankind! Samantha had lived her entire life being made fun of,<br/><br/>“Look. She is growing like a weed.”<br/><br/>“Yeah, a dandelion, straight up and down with a fuzzy mass of curly blonde hair.”<br/><br/>The boys were snicker and make smoothing gestures down the front of their own chests while grimacing at her before dissolving into smug laughter. The teasing was much worse when she went to work in the gardens.<br/><br/>“Look at the weed among the roses,” they would say as she grew to be a tall, graceful woman with no shape to speak of. Usually this insult would be hurled at her when she was walking to the gardens in the company of some of the ladies’ maids, many of whom were buxom, spilling while bosoms from the low cut bodices of their gowns.<br/><br/>Only Faren paid her much heed. Faren, the lord’s squire, who worked as hard as she did. Faren, who it was rumored, loved his horse, Susan, as a man might love a maid. Faren, who had kind words and a beautiful heart and had taught her to ignore the coarse, low brow comments.<br/><br/>Samantha lay day dreaming of giving herself to Faren, the way that Nimue said she should, proudly, with the sensuous pleasure that only a woman’s body can give a man. She had laid her small palms on Samantha’s breasts, kneeding them, and Samantha realized that her small despised breasts were alive with a mysterious cord that burrowed in the depths of her belly. She ran her own hand over her nipples, just under the blankets as she lay in the small shack beside the other sleeping women.<br/><br/>“Samantha, are you in there?” Faren’s voice was calling softly outside the shack. Samantha’s fingers stilled, touching her stiff nipple. She shivered thinking how close Faren was to her right now and how much she wanted her hand to be his hand. That was an impure thought, she scolded herself, even as she twisted the small nub, I shall have to confess that to the priest.<br/><br/>Clearing her throat, Samantha answered,<br/><br/>“Yes, I will be right out.”<br/><br/>She tossed back the blanket and dressed hurriedly. Well, while she might not yet have the courage to show her small, inadequate body to her love, she could enjoy his company.