and she fought just to breathe. Her joints ached beneath reddening skin. ’Twas as if her very soul were trussed up like a holiday boar, helpless as any other woman.
Caltrik didn’t notice anything unusual as he removed her original bindings and secured her other wrist. “Get some rest. Ye’ll need ev’ry bit o’ strength ye can muster when King Jalad gets here, so ye don’ die on us too quick.” He laughed as he left the room. The heavy door swung shut with a final, ominous thud. A scraping signaled the bolt being drawn from the outside and Dara heard a key turn in the lock.
Resting was just what Dara meant to do. Battle naps, Rufus called them. Even a candlemark permitted the sleeper to awaken much refreshed. She’d need what she could get for the battle ahead. She forced her mind from the true-iron binding, breathed, willing her muscles one by one to relax.
Jalad had kept Hengist’s silk sheets and velvet-edged quilted coverlet. Fluffy down pillows cushioned Dara’s head as she sank into the mattress. Too much give, no support to push off. No chains for her legs. Must be a way to take advantage of that. She wasn’t a garden variety bed slave, slack fleshed. Her legs were as strong as a man’s.
She tugged on the chains above her head, ignoring the darts of black flames that shot through her wrists. The arm chains weren’t long at all, but they might be leverage enough to let her wrap her legs around Jalad’s neck and flip over. ’Twould be worth her own death if she took him with her. While women often overestimated a man’s strength, men’s greatest mistake involved underestimating a woman’s.
Her eyes drifted shut and the world went dark and hazy.
The rattle of a key in the lock snapped her eyes open. The room was dark, but torchlight from the hallway backlit a man’s silhouette in the opening doorway. She swallowed down her fear.
Jalad had arrived.
***
Burning pain sliced through Loren’s shoulder, shocking in its intensity. Hani`ena screamed and stumbled, nearly falling to her knees. Xavier slid to the left and clutched Loren’s tunic to right himself. Loren blocked his connection to Hani`ena and felt her relief as she recovered. He reached back to steady Xavier with his good left hand and glanced down at his right shoulder, half expecting the skin to bubble like an egg in a skillet. He saw naught until he used sight, and then a hideous black and red S appeared.
Xavier grasped Loren’s good arm. “We’re almost to Jakop’s Crossroads. We must keep going.”
Loren cradled the burning arm in his left hand. He could not shield the pain out. He could but block it from Hani`ena. Choking fear and agony suffocated him.
“Breathe,” Hani`ena ordered.
He gasped. The cold air filling his lungs cleared his mind. “They have Dara. We must go back.”
“We can’t,” Xavier argued.
“Life-debt. I shall not leave her to that monster.” Desperation clawed at him. What had he done? He never should have left her—
“The mission . ” Hani`ena’s voice cut through the panic. “ Hengist’s kingdom is worth one life. Even hers.”
“Nay—”
“Even mine. Even yours . Every delay belittles her sacrifice. Our mission is to get Xavier to Jakop’s Crossroads and to find Moira . ”
“I cannot leave her.” The thought made him double over. His eyes watered from the pain in his arm. Knowing it was Dara’s pain made him half mad. “On my shoulder. An S in Westmarche colors. It burns.”
Xavier’s face crumpled. “A Westmarche slave brand.”
Despair almost knocked Loren from Hani`ena’s back.
“All the women were thus marked,” Xavier told him. “Don’t you see? This is why we must ride. For all their sakes.”
“Father, help me.” Loren’s throat was too tight for words. “Show me.”
Loren’s memories rushed through the bond in an agonizing flash of tangled light. Dara’s battle with the Boars, her tending his wounds, his vow, their kiss. “ I cannot
Caltrik didn’t notice anything unusual as he removed her original bindings and secured her other wrist. “Get some rest. Ye’ll need ev’ry bit o’ strength ye can muster when King Jalad gets here, so ye don’ die on us too quick.” He laughed as he left the room. The heavy door swung shut with a final, ominous thud. A scraping signaled the bolt being drawn from the outside and Dara heard a key turn in the lock.
Resting was just what Dara meant to do. Battle naps, Rufus called them. Even a candlemark permitted the sleeper to awaken much refreshed. She’d need what she could get for the battle ahead. She forced her mind from the true-iron binding, breathed, willing her muscles one by one to relax.
Jalad had kept Hengist’s silk sheets and velvet-edged quilted coverlet. Fluffy down pillows cushioned Dara’s head as she sank into the mattress. Too much give, no support to push off. No chains for her legs. Must be a way to take advantage of that. She wasn’t a garden variety bed slave, slack fleshed. Her legs were as strong as a man’s.
She tugged on the chains above her head, ignoring the darts of black flames that shot through her wrists. The arm chains weren’t long at all, but they might be leverage enough to let her wrap her legs around Jalad’s neck and flip over. ’Twould be worth her own death if she took him with her. While women often overestimated a man’s strength, men’s greatest mistake involved underestimating a woman’s.
Her eyes drifted shut and the world went dark and hazy.
The rattle of a key in the lock snapped her eyes open. The room was dark, but torchlight from the hallway backlit a man’s silhouette in the opening doorway. She swallowed down her fear.
Jalad had arrived.
***
Burning pain sliced through Loren’s shoulder, shocking in its intensity. Hani`ena screamed and stumbled, nearly falling to her knees. Xavier slid to the left and clutched Loren’s tunic to right himself. Loren blocked his connection to Hani`ena and felt her relief as she recovered. He reached back to steady Xavier with his good left hand and glanced down at his right shoulder, half expecting the skin to bubble like an egg in a skillet. He saw naught until he used sight, and then a hideous black and red S appeared.
Xavier grasped Loren’s good arm. “We’re almost to Jakop’s Crossroads. We must keep going.”
Loren cradled the burning arm in his left hand. He could not shield the pain out. He could but block it from Hani`ena. Choking fear and agony suffocated him.
“Breathe,” Hani`ena ordered.
He gasped. The cold air filling his lungs cleared his mind. “They have Dara. We must go back.”
“We can’t,” Xavier argued.
“Life-debt. I shall not leave her to that monster.” Desperation clawed at him. What had he done? He never should have left her—
“The mission . ” Hani`ena’s voice cut through the panic. “ Hengist’s kingdom is worth one life. Even hers.”
“Nay—”
“Even mine. Even yours . Every delay belittles her sacrifice. Our mission is to get Xavier to Jakop’s Crossroads and to find Moira . ”
“I cannot leave her.” The thought made him double over. His eyes watered from the pain in his arm. Knowing it was Dara’s pain made him half mad. “On my shoulder. An S in Westmarche colors. It burns.”
Xavier’s face crumpled. “A Westmarche slave brand.”
Despair almost knocked Loren from Hani`ena’s back.
“All the women were thus marked,” Xavier told him. “Don’t you see? This is why we must ride. For all their sakes.”
“Father, help me.” Loren’s throat was too tight for words. “Show me.”
Loren’s memories rushed through the bond in an agonizing flash of tangled light. Dara’s battle with the Boars, her tending his wounds, his vow, their kiss. “ I cannot
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