Read Online PRINCE OF THE WIND by Charlotte Boyet-Compo - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Charlotte Boyet-Compo
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glaring at him from out of the now-heavy rain pelting the keep’s stone walls.
"You are mine!" she had screamed. "No other shall have you save me!"
He feared her, he realized as he walked to the bed and sat down. He wrapped his hands around the tall column of his footboard and clung to it as though it was a lifesaver thrown to him in a raging sea.
Aye, he feared her as he had never feared anything else in his young life. Her intensity had put that fear in him, and her insanity had kept it there. Despite the fact that he knew for a certainty she was locked inside the high, barricaded walls of Baybridge asylum, he still feared her and what she was capable of doing.
That she would kill him if given the chance, he had no doubt. If her maniac threats were to be believed, she would skin him alive and feed him piecemeal to the vultures. Or she would disembowel him and tack his still-bleeding heart to her bedchamber door. Her cruelties knew no limits.
"You tell him what I have sworn!" she supposedly had screamed at the guards who had taken her to Baybridge. "Tell him what I have sworn!"
How the word had gotten back to Briarcliffe was anyone’s guess, but Riain had heard of it while eavesdropping on a conversation between his father and eldest brother.
"They have put her in one of the most secure cells within the asylum," his father had assured a concerned Tiernan. "She is chained by the neck to the wall and the cell door is never unlocked."
"How is she fed?" Tiernan asked.
"Through a slit in the door. No one speaks to her and no one visits. There is a privy hole in one corner, so there is no need for anyone to come into contact with her."
Despite the woman’s murderous promises, Riain felt sorry for her. It was obvious that she was deranged; he had known that from the beginning. But to be treated so cruelly, so inhumanely…
"She deserves her sentence," Duncan had suggested when Riain once broached the subject. "Should she ever get loose, son, your life would be in jeopardy. Do you think either your father or hers would take that chance?" Duncan laid a gentle, understanding hand on his student’s shoulder and squeezed. "Forget her, brat. She is precisely where she belongs."
But Riain could not forget Suzanna de Viennes. He wished he could, but her memory was like a bad taste left in the mouth.
Just as the vague, haunting memory of his mysterious savioress was like cool, sweet water on his tongue.
Chapter 7
----
The madwoman shielded her eyes against the bright glare of the lantern. She scuttled away like a rodent, plastering herself tightly into a ball in the corner of the filthy stone cell, drawing up her scabby knees into the protection of her thin arms.
"Up with you!" the warder snarled. "You got a visitor!"
Suzanna trembled so violently from the sudden appearance of the warder and his two vicious assistants that her teeth clicked together. As a result, she did not heed the man’s words, but buried her face into the corner of the wall in an attempt to hide.
"Get your slovenly arse up!" he bellowed. "We ain’t got all day!"
Brutal, uncaring hands grabbed her arms and jerked her to her feet. The chain attached to the slave collar around her neck slapped against the wall and pulled back her head. A low moan gurgled from her throat as she sagged in her jailers’ hands.
"Gawd, but the bitch stinks!" one assistant grumbled.
"We’ll have to bathe her ’fore she sees that swell, we will," the other snorted. He grabbed a handful of Suzanna’s limp, greasy hair. "You’ll like that, won’t you, dearie?"
Suzanna whimpered as she hung between the heavyset men. She had felt their rough hands on her many times over the last two years.
* * *
"Get her to the bath house," the warder said with disgust. "And no dallying." He held the lantern higher so he could look at his assistants.
Runyon Kullen shrugged disdainfully. "Ain’t nothing to me."
The warder knew he was wasting his breath. As sure as the sun
"You are mine!" she had screamed. "No other shall have you save me!"
He feared her, he realized as he walked to the bed and sat down. He wrapped his hands around the tall column of his footboard and clung to it as though it was a lifesaver thrown to him in a raging sea.
Aye, he feared her as he had never feared anything else in his young life. Her intensity had put that fear in him, and her insanity had kept it there. Despite the fact that he knew for a certainty she was locked inside the high, barricaded walls of Baybridge asylum, he still feared her and what she was capable of doing.
That she would kill him if given the chance, he had no doubt. If her maniac threats were to be believed, she would skin him alive and feed him piecemeal to the vultures. Or she would disembowel him and tack his still-bleeding heart to her bedchamber door. Her cruelties knew no limits.
"You tell him what I have sworn!" she supposedly had screamed at the guards who had taken her to Baybridge. "Tell him what I have sworn!"
How the word had gotten back to Briarcliffe was anyone’s guess, but Riain had heard of it while eavesdropping on a conversation between his father and eldest brother.
"They have put her in one of the most secure cells within the asylum," his father had assured a concerned Tiernan. "She is chained by the neck to the wall and the cell door is never unlocked."
"How is she fed?" Tiernan asked.
"Through a slit in the door. No one speaks to her and no one visits. There is a privy hole in one corner, so there is no need for anyone to come into contact with her."
Despite the woman’s murderous promises, Riain felt sorry for her. It was obvious that she was deranged; he had known that from the beginning. But to be treated so cruelly, so inhumanely…
"She deserves her sentence," Duncan had suggested when Riain once broached the subject. "Should she ever get loose, son, your life would be in jeopardy. Do you think either your father or hers would take that chance?" Duncan laid a gentle, understanding hand on his student’s shoulder and squeezed. "Forget her, brat. She is precisely where she belongs."
But Riain could not forget Suzanna de Viennes. He wished he could, but her memory was like a bad taste left in the mouth.
Just as the vague, haunting memory of his mysterious savioress was like cool, sweet water on his tongue.
Chapter 7
----
The madwoman shielded her eyes against the bright glare of the lantern. She scuttled away like a rodent, plastering herself tightly into a ball in the corner of the filthy stone cell, drawing up her scabby knees into the protection of her thin arms.
"Up with you!" the warder snarled. "You got a visitor!"
Suzanna trembled so violently from the sudden appearance of the warder and his two vicious assistants that her teeth clicked together. As a result, she did not heed the man’s words, but buried her face into the corner of the wall in an attempt to hide.
"Get your slovenly arse up!" he bellowed. "We ain’t got all day!"
Brutal, uncaring hands grabbed her arms and jerked her to her feet. The chain attached to the slave collar around her neck slapped against the wall and pulled back her head. A low moan gurgled from her throat as she sagged in her jailers’ hands.
"Gawd, but the bitch stinks!" one assistant grumbled.
"We’ll have to bathe her ’fore she sees that swell, we will," the other snorted. He grabbed a handful of Suzanna’s limp, greasy hair. "You’ll like that, won’t you, dearie?"
Suzanna whimpered as she hung between the heavyset men. She had felt their rough hands on her many times over the last two years.
* * *
"Get her to the bath house," the warder said with disgust. "And no dallying." He held the lantern higher so he could look at his assistants.
Runyon Kullen shrugged disdainfully. "Ain’t nothing to me."
The warder knew he was wasting his breath. As sure as the sun
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