Chapter Eight - Punishment

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