Read Online Knight of Westmoorland: The Queen and the warrior by M. S. Toboorg - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: M. S. Toboorg
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with one arm, and then the other. The warrior gulped in air, as much as the leather around his neck allowed. But then Marcus repositioned his arms around the warrior, trapping the warrior’s arms at his sides.
“Donny, come here.”
Nathan’s voice seemed to come from a great distance away. He watched through blurring eyesight as Donny crept up beside Nathan.
Nathan handed him the pole. “Hold it. That’s all you gotta do. Just hold it. ”
Nathan advanced on the warrior, his hands balled into fists and his eyes intense.
The warrior tried to swallow, wincing. His throat was raw. One eye was swelling and his lip was busted. His face hurt, his back hurt and his side hurt. The loop was gone from his neck but breathing was still difficult. Every breath brought stabbing pain from his ribs. He was familiar with this type of pain and knew what it meant.
Cracked and broken ribs.
He was on his knees, his hands shackled behind him, around one of the legs of the table. A strap crossed his upper back and came up under his arms, the ends secured to the table behind him, holding him upright. The strap chaffed his armpits and he pressed his knees into the floor to lift himself and relieve the pressure.
He gasped, surprised by a dozen points of stabbing pain from his knees.
Looking down, he saw that small bits of broken pottery littered the area around his knees. And he realized the table had been moved. He was now less than a yard away from the fireplace.
He could hear the men talking behind him. He turned his head to find them at the other end of the table, near the door.
Suddenly, Donny backed away from the other two, raising his hands as if in defense. “No.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want any part of this. I…I think I should go…”
“You wanna leave? ” Marcus charged Donny, slamming him into the wall. “Then, go , you yellow-bellied chicken shit mama’s boy. But keep your trap shut, you hear? Don’t say nothin’, to nobody , or I’ll come after you!”
Marcus released the man and Donny fled out the door, leaving it open. Nathan headed for the door.
“You leaving too?” Marcus roared.
“No.” Nathan closed the door and faced Marcus, his face calm and his eyes hard. “But what’s it matter if he runs his mouth? You said the Queen didn’t care if we were down here.”
“She don’t care,” Marcus growled. “Tough man here won’t answer her questions. She’s tired of playin’ with him. Her Highness said,” he paused, wiping his hand across his lips as though saying the title had caused an unpleasant taste in his mouth. “She told me to see what I could do. She said we could kill him, for all she cares.”
The warrior’s breath caught in his throat and his heart pounded.
“Is that what you want to do?” Nathan asked, his tone impassive. “You want to kill him?”
“I want him to suffer . I don’t care if he lives or dies. I just want him to suffer,” Marcus answered angrily.
“Okay, then.” Nathan shrugged. “Let’s figure out how to make him suffer.”
The warrior leaned his head against the table leg and closed his eyes. Marcus and Nathan were behind him. He could hear the murmur of their voices, but couldn’t follow their conversation. He heard one of the men leave the chamber and the table moved slightly as the remaining man leaned against it.
His entire body hurt. His eye was now swollen shut. Sharp pain in his sides reminded him to keep his breaths shallow. His legs trembled and his knees ached from the shards of pottery pressing into his skin.
But his heart hurt worst of all.
Had Marcus spoken the truth? Had she tired of him, taken her sexual pleasures and then delivered him into the hands of the guard?
He couldn’t believe it, yet there was a mustard seed of doubt. After all, she had said he was her enemy and he would answer her questions in the morning.
No! His heart argued. She’d called him Her warrior. Hers! And she’d said he could sleep until
“Donny, come here.”
Nathan’s voice seemed to come from a great distance away. He watched through blurring eyesight as Donny crept up beside Nathan.
Nathan handed him the pole. “Hold it. That’s all you gotta do. Just hold it. ”
Nathan advanced on the warrior, his hands balled into fists and his eyes intense.
The warrior tried to swallow, wincing. His throat was raw. One eye was swelling and his lip was busted. His face hurt, his back hurt and his side hurt. The loop was gone from his neck but breathing was still difficult. Every breath brought stabbing pain from his ribs. He was familiar with this type of pain and knew what it meant.
Cracked and broken ribs.
He was on his knees, his hands shackled behind him, around one of the legs of the table. A strap crossed his upper back and came up under his arms, the ends secured to the table behind him, holding him upright. The strap chaffed his armpits and he pressed his knees into the floor to lift himself and relieve the pressure.
He gasped, surprised by a dozen points of stabbing pain from his knees.
Looking down, he saw that small bits of broken pottery littered the area around his knees. And he realized the table had been moved. He was now less than a yard away from the fireplace.
He could hear the men talking behind him. He turned his head to find them at the other end of the table, near the door.
Suddenly, Donny backed away from the other two, raising his hands as if in defense. “No.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want any part of this. I…I think I should go…”
“You wanna leave? ” Marcus charged Donny, slamming him into the wall. “Then, go , you yellow-bellied chicken shit mama’s boy. But keep your trap shut, you hear? Don’t say nothin’, to nobody , or I’ll come after you!”
Marcus released the man and Donny fled out the door, leaving it open. Nathan headed for the door.
“You leaving too?” Marcus roared.
“No.” Nathan closed the door and faced Marcus, his face calm and his eyes hard. “But what’s it matter if he runs his mouth? You said the Queen didn’t care if we were down here.”
“She don’t care,” Marcus growled. “Tough man here won’t answer her questions. She’s tired of playin’ with him. Her Highness said,” he paused, wiping his hand across his lips as though saying the title had caused an unpleasant taste in his mouth. “She told me to see what I could do. She said we could kill him, for all she cares.”
The warrior’s breath caught in his throat and his heart pounded.
“Is that what you want to do?” Nathan asked, his tone impassive. “You want to kill him?”
“I want him to suffer . I don’t care if he lives or dies. I just want him to suffer,” Marcus answered angrily.
“Okay, then.” Nathan shrugged. “Let’s figure out how to make him suffer.”
The warrior leaned his head against the table leg and closed his eyes. Marcus and Nathan were behind him. He could hear the murmur of their voices, but couldn’t follow their conversation. He heard one of the men leave the chamber and the table moved slightly as the remaining man leaned against it.
His entire body hurt. His eye was now swollen shut. Sharp pain in his sides reminded him to keep his breaths shallow. His legs trembled and his knees ached from the shards of pottery pressing into his skin.
But his heart hurt worst of all.
Had Marcus spoken the truth? Had she tired of him, taken her sexual pleasures and then delivered him into the hands of the guard?
He couldn’t believe it, yet there was a mustard seed of doubt. After all, she had said he was her enemy and he would answer her questions in the morning.
No! His heart argued. She’d called him Her warrior. Hers! And she’d said he could sleep until
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