Read Online The Rose of Blacksword by Rexanne Becnel - Free Book Online Page B

the outlaw Blacksword!”
    “ ’Twill be a union deadly to them both,” someone cackled from the sea of faces below them. But it set the crowd to laughing again, and despite her fright Rosalynde sensed a more genial mood from the avid spectators. Still, she did not doubt their mood could just as easily turn black. If only she could be done with it all and make good her escape.
    But that was not to be.
    In short order the chair was dragged to a place before the two other condemned men. Then the intimidating Blacksword was freed of his bonds by a wary guard and thrust rudely toward the chair.
    Rosalynde thought for a moment that her scheme would fall apart right there, for the fearsome rogue gave the guard such a quelling glare that the man raised his dagger protectively before him. But despite Blacksword’s threatening posture, he seemed equally aware that this was not the time to seek revenge against those who had captured and imprisoned him. She saw him flex his shoulders as if to stretch them after their long cramped position. Then in a move she would never have expected, he turned toward the waiting crowd and gave them a victorious wave, with both his hands extended high over his head. Then equally surprising, he crossed the few steps to her and gave her a wide, mocking bow. “If you wish to live out this day, go along with whatever I say,” he said quietly, for her ears only. Then he abruptly picked her up and tossed her most unceremoniously over his shoulder.
    At once the crowd erupted into riotous waves of laughterand bold exhortations. From her upside-down position over his iron-muscled shoulder, Rosalynde heard the lewd advice and coarse suggestions. For a desperate, dizzying moment she feared she had delivered herself into the hands of Lucifer himself, a man who’d no sooner been set free by her intercession than he threatened her very life! What sort of madman had she bound herself to?
    In a panic she kicked her legs and pounded her knotted fists against his back. But it was to no avail. He only strode back and forth along the platform, displaying her struggling, up-ended form for all to see and thereby goading the crowd to even more uproarious laughter. When he finally righted her, she nearly collapsed, she was so woozy from his topsy-turvy manhandling. But when he tried to steady her she furiously slapped his hands away.
    “Cuff ’er one!”
    “Teach ’er who’s to be boss!” The laughter rang out.
    For a moment Rosalynde cringed, fearing a blow from his mighty fist. But to her enormous chagrin he only scooped her up once more, then sat down on the chair with her firmly on his lap. Though she struggled, he clasped her tighter around the waist until she could hardly catch her breath at all.
    “Be still,” he said with a fierce growl in her ear.
    But that only increased her terror and the tempo of her flailing arms. Then his other arm wrapped around her, holding her arms snug against her sides.
    “I said be still and go along with whatever I say,” he snarled once more, even as the spectators laughed anew at the antics before them.
    “Oh, please, just let me go,” she pleaded in a faint and breathless tone. She was unable to think or even move as her heart thundered painfully in her chest. What manner of man had she loosed by her ill-considered plan?
    “It’s too late to change your mind, wench.” He pushed her hair aside so that his face was beside her own. “Just play your role and with any luck darkness shall see us free.”
    At this unpredictable remark Rosalynde turned a stupefied expression toward him. What did he mean, “luck”? Then in a flash she understood. It was not him she need most fear, but the crowd.
    He glanced down at her frightened face while in the background the crowd became steadily drunker on both ale and pent-up anticipation. Once more she was struck by the vivid gray of his eyes, and she saw the sharp intelligence there. But before she could signal her new