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must have come with our visitor.
    “A fine one you caught,” one said and whistled.
    Another added, “Hurry on or the food will be cold by the time we all get a turn.”
    The one that had me flashed a terrible grin. I ignored the pain of his hands biting into my flesh, screamed as I struggled, but could not match the man’s strength. He ripped my clothes off in no time, baring me to the cold night and his friends’ hungry gazes.
    He untied the strip of leather that held together his leggings, which were made of much finer cloth than Tahar’s warriors wore. The other men were dressed just like him, very strangely, I noticed as I tried to scramble away.
    Their swords hung from wide leather belts decorated richly with gold rather than left plain and dyed dark green as was the custom of Tahar’s men. They wore taller boots, better made. I could see well enough the fur lining—as the men stood close to me.
    I screamed again, but the brute above me paid no heed, his fetid breath choking me as he pressed his mouth to mine and bruised my lips. I shoved him with all the strength I possessed, ignoring the small stones that dug into my back and the man’s weight that crushed my lungs.
    Dread filled me, for I could see only one outcome, and its inevitability slowly crept into my limbs to paralyze them. I forced myself to fight on, but I could do little damage. He held me tightly.
    “What is this about?” The commanding voice that cut through the night had the power to still the man.
    The warrior’s weight lifted from me as he stood to attention with the others.
    I gulped air as I grabbed the tattered remains of my clothes and held them together while I scrambled backward, falling into the creek. The frigid water burned my skin and stole my breath. I tried to climb out on the other side but slipped and fell back in. My gaze fluttered in panic to the men.
    The one who rescued me stood tall, the moonlight gliding off his light hair. Not as thickly built as the other warriors, he wore magnificent garments studded with gemstones the likes of which I had never seen before. He seemed young, only a few years older than I. But young or not, he was in charge, the warriors’ attention on him as they waited for his command.
    He had arrived just in time, and I thanked the spirits for him.
    He looked me over as I finally managed to scramble out of the creek on the other side, dripping, shivering from the freezing water. I lifted my long braid that clearly marked me as a maiden. And I knew he understood, but from his annoyed shrug, I also knew he considered it beneath him to be involved in my plight.
    “All this noise over a slave woman? Keep her quiet,” he said as he walked away.

CHAPTER FIVE
    (The Palace Guard)
     
     
    “Hear that?” The warrior who had grabbed me before was wading through the water with large strides that gobbled up the distance between us.
    The others stayed on the opposite bank, probably not wanting to ruin their boots, counting on their friend to bring me back.
    “You be quiet,” he murmured, as if trying to calm a skittish animal. “We will not harm you, girl. But a man is due some entertainment after a hard battle.”
    In my head, I could hear my mother’s warning: if a Shahala healer lost her maidenhead before gaining her powers, those powers would never come to her but would be lost forever.
    “I am a maiden. It is forbidden,” I pleaded as I leaped to run, stumbling on the uneven ground.
    He reached me all too quickly.
    “Nothing is forbidden to the Palace Guard.” He bent my arm back roughly as he pawed my breast and crushed my lips under his foul breath once again.
    The Palace Guard. The man who commanded them must have been the High Lord of the Kadar. 
    “A pretty one like you.” The one on me grunted into my mouth. “Time you learn to please a man.”
    I tasted my own blood and fought hard as if for my life. I swore he would have to take my very breath before he could take the gift from me