Thank you for reading. Please feel free to comment.
There must have been at least twenty Frankish men waiting in two parallel lines. Eithne bowed her head, unwilling to make eye contact with any of them. Gradually the last vestiges of conversation died away, including the conclusion of what she knew to have been a bawdy joke.Schooling her features to ignorance, she willed herself not to redden if insults of any kind came her way.Xander sauntered along the line, his hand gripping her upper arm.“I asked you to assemble here, men, because I wanted to express my thanks for all your endeavours in what has seemed an interminable campaign. Yes, Beauregard?”“It has been a pleasure, Sire.”Sire?“No need to stand on ceremony. Xander will do. Many a campaign we’ve spent wrapped in our cloaks. Which reminds me.” He glanced at her. “I need to acquire a new one.”“Permission to speak, Xander?”“Go ahead, Drago.”“Will we be staying on here for a while?”“Missing your family? I sympathise, even though I don’t know what that’s like.”There were g
The man presumably named for his home province was of medium height but he had cruel eyes.Eithne folded her arms across her chest and waited.“Are the rotas arranged, Simpkin?”She blinked. That sounded like a local name. Was this man a traitor?“Checked and double checked, Commander.”“And no-one’s giving the mercenaries any lip?”“Nothing they can’t handle. I’m keeping a watching brief myself.” The newcomer passed a hand across his brow. “It was thirsty work in that smithy,” he said.“I can imagine. Take a break, my captain. You’ve earned it.”As the man from Ormond turned to leave, she had to say something. Because she recognised him now as one of her father’s most trusted bodyguards. His treachery she took personally.“Judas!” she spat.Simpkin paid her no more attention than if she were a gnat buzzing beside his ear, though he made the same warding off gesture with a hand which was missing a couple of fingers.Alone with the conqueror once more, she became aware that her heart h
That evening, having eaten very little else herself, Eithne was instructed by her master to serve ale in the Hall. He had hinted at such a thing though she hadn’t believed he was serious. All this after washing several floors until her fingers were raw and numb, her back ached and her knees were sore.Did she believe Xander that he’d purchased the cloak on a whim? There was no telling with him when he was serious and when he wasn’t. Except she did not doubt that he would indeed test her innocence or otherwise that very night.The men were noisy, boisterous and well on their way to becoming drunk. It heartened her to see Beauregard for some reason she could not quite explain. Though she hadn’t particularly looked at most of the others, except for Drago and Guisset, she could tell the mercenaries by their leather jerkins and short cloaks. It was a kind of uniform which set them apart and she was heartened to see them dispersed throughout the long room. In case of trouble?Surely not bec
So much for Xander not being all he seemed. His action was certainly giving the lie to that. Eithne assumed the situation would only become worse when they reached what was now his bedchamber.As he hauled her up the stairs, she became aware she was still carrying the flagon of ale. Maybe she could drink herself into a stupor, and maybe not.“Haven’t I been through enough?” she cried, unable to stay silent any longer.“You have no idea, do you, Princess? Paupers can’t be choosers.”Was that a hint as to his real origins? Eithne wasn’t about to ask him at that point.“You’re hurting me,” she complained.It was true; her scalp felt like it was on fire. Her mind led her to wonder if his head wound had healed. Then she chastised herself for neglecting her own needs. She had angered him without thought and now was about to suffer the consequences.“Get used to it.”His voice was low and tight, his fury about to be unleashed.Eithne wasn’t too proud to beg if it meant avoiding a brutal rape
The lesson didn’t happen. It must have been the horrified look on her face. Who was this man, this usurper who had neglected to install himself in the former King’s chambers?Instead, he lifted her bodily and took her across to the bed.“You’re freezing, little one,” he said. “Let me warm you.” He began to rub her arms and shoulders briskly.“I forgot to look for the necklace,” she murmured. Only when she’d been gazing at the rough flagstones had she recalled its loss.“What is it with you women? Always hankering after a bauble.”“She gave it to me, Clara. Only yesterday. For my birthday. The first gift I’d received from her in years.”Eithne became aware he was shaking her, though not hard. “Is it true? The raid happened on your birthday?”“My eighteenth,” she whispered, sadly. “It should be a time of joy and celebration.”Xander rolled onto his back.“Go,” he said. “Get out, before I change my mind.”“Do you really mean that?”Eithne looked with longing at the supper tray. Was prese
The solar was no different from when she’d seen it last. Her mother was seated at the harp while Edgar looked her up and down with a wolfish grin. The strings twanged discordantly. Clara’s face resembled someone who had been chewing on lemons. “I heard you last night, little slut, moaning and screaming. Disgusting!” Eithne frowned. Did she mean … ? “It’s a rare vixen that enjoys being ravaged,” the Queen Dowager’s lover said, passing his tongue over his thin lips. “I had hopes for you, my daughter. Now I fear you will be relegated to service the lesser warriors.” “Rest assured, while ever I live, that will not happen.” “Service you well, did she, m’lord?” The leer was hateful and made her feel shame for something she had not done. “For your information, the Princess spent last night in her own chamber. Alone.” “You discarded her. Before or after?” Clara asked, as if she were discussing the weather or the price of fish. “Before. And I don’t answer to you, remember that.” So h
The time she had been dreading had arrived. She was back in the guest suite with Xander, sharing the wooden tub with him. At least he had had the decency – if that was the right word – to wait until dusk. “Your shyness is enchanting, my sweet,” he told her, running the washcloth over her breasts. She shivered. “I have rarely met such an inexperienced female.” “It won’t stop you taking what you want from me, though, will it?” “Rather me than anyone else,” he said. “I only wish Ephron had told me you were so young.” “You probably wouldn’t have believed him. After all, Mama was very convincing about my so-called precocious exploits.” “I didn’t believe a word of it, Eithne.” “And if I said I was looking around earlier in the bathroom for a concealed mirror?” His eyes narrowed. “How did you know?” he asked. Her outraged gasp told him she hadn’t. “Some distinguished guests my father had. I thought they were interested in the books when all the time … ” “I didn’t sneak a peek as you
She woke to the clatter of maids and heard her mother’s strident voice raised in complaint. That was one sound she hadn’t missed. Someone squealed and she guessed Edgar had goosed one of the women. In her opinion the girl had gotten off lightly. Xander was not in the room. In some ways that was a relief, in others not. Eithne felt vulnerable, unprotected. Throwing back the coverlet she rose and went into the bathchamber. Everything was still and silent, except for the nearby chatter and the sound of weapons clashing in the training area. Had he gone to oversee that, perhaps to participate? She told herself she didn’t care. Using some more of the water he’d inexplicably fetched for her, she washed as thoroughly as it was possible to do without immersion. A knock at the door sent her into a panic, but she knew it couldn’t be him and an intruder wouldn’t have taken the trouble. Not wanting to use her voice in case it fetched her mother, she went cautiously to the door, clutching the r