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Eithne knew she was in trouble when the man in the surcoat planted his dirty boots on the part of the floor she had just finished scrubbing. Orange and mauve, her least favourite colours in the world. “You are to come with me, Princess,” he said, extending his arm. She scrambled to her feet without assistance, wondering why every time someone sent by Clara spoke to her they did so with a sneer. The way he pronounced her title made it sound as if she belonged in a dung heap. It couldn’t be any worse than here. Her heart sank to see they were on their way to the royal chamber. The escort rapped once on the door and stood back so that Eithne came face to face with Ephron. “There you are, you little harlot. Tell Mama how you behaved like a true fille de joie with an unknown man.” Two things alarmed her about that last sentence. Her brother used the Frankish term for a prostitute when he had always professed a distaste for Clara’s mother tongue. And he apparently hadn’t recognised Xand
Iain’s quarters were even less comfortable than Rowanne’s. Was that deliberate? she wondered. Yet the sometimes prickly girl from across the water made her welcome and she sank gratefully onto a pile of cushions, rubbing at her sore knees. The still limping gladiator – how had she missed that before? – was only too pleased to share some of his allotted ale and they sat at the tiny table as Ava continued where she had left off on the castle battlements. He asked a question or two occasionally, but otherwise left her to make sense of her past as best she could in the telling of it. * There were four of them in the commander’s tent, all unshackled now and on their knees. Ava tried not to think about what would happen next. King Harold had regularly made her watch his guards have their fun with reluctant maidservants. It would be too cruel to play an active part in that. Connor was in no mood to be gainsaid. Marriage was definitely off the table, while the other benefits clearly weren’
“There’s a lot of intrigue in a royal court.” Iain set down his tankard, wiped his mouth and offered up a smile. “I’m beginning to understand that, Princess. Though Isabel wouldn’t open up to me. Scared of her own shadow that one.” “You’re wrong, gladiator,” Ava said. “She’s just different, that’s all.” She looked him straight in the eye as she added, “Izzy needs someone to love and appreciate her or she’ll never know her own worth.” The big man spluttered, and Eithne slapped him on the back. “Surely you don’t mean me?” he gasped. “Bloody piece of bread went down the wrong way.” “That’s what you get for stuffing your face.” Ava said it with affection, and Eithne couldn’t help remembering how readily she’d prepared the simple meal which included cheese and red apples, as well as buttermilk. She’d disappeared for a while “on a forage” as she said. No doubt the food had been pilfered from the royal larder but these days the Princess of Ormond wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the m
Something wasn’t right. The Princess hadn’t been seen for hours and she was concerned. Knowing it was probably breaking all kinds of rules to seek out her fellow gladiator, Rowanne did not hesitate. Flavius had seemed the friendliest of the bunch and appeared to know his way around.He would tell her it straight, assuming he knew.What was Queen Clara plotting now? She was no fool. Her days as a combatant were definitely numbered, especially when the concept of fighting to the death was introduced. Rowanne knew she would be lucky to win a bout and may make an unlooked for enemy if she did.Though it was late, the female gladiator who had once contemplated being employed as a cook, made her way stealthily down the corridor until she found the door with the appropriate symbol. Even the slackwits knew this was a fighter’s domain and to be cautious. Her own was an arrow, while he had opted for an axe.She knocked only once and not loudly, but everyone said his hearing was excellent.The d
“She plans to do what?” “You heard me the first time, Alexander of the Franks.” They were riding a couple of nags along an overgrown path and, if the nettles had been any higher … No, he mustn’t exaggerate. “Why do you always turn up at just the right time, and never with good news?” Jocasta gave him the stare he remembered from years ago, maybe three of them now. “I wouldn’t have sought you out to tell you Princess Eithne was getting married.” Xander decided not to rise to it. “Seriously, my thanks for coming all this way and on foot, too.” “A cart was going my way, if you must know. But the last few leagues put a strain on my poor calves.” “Take them to market, did you?” he quipped. The look she sent him was decidedly sour. “Don’t think being in the tower will save her from the barracks. Word is Clara didn’t even know. That was down to Ephron.” “So, the wanderer returns?” “Apparently,” she said. “Though there are some as have their doubts.” “Jocasta, Jocasta. If I appea
Isabel was dismayed to see the two piece costume which Queen Clara had ordered to be stitched specially for them to wear at the next gladiator contest. The top was designed to come away without too much trouble in a style called, “à la Rouen”.“It won’t make you a beauty,” the Dowager Queen had told her, rudely. “But then, nobody will be looking at your face.”As usual Ava leapt to her defence.“That was a mean thing to say, Your Majesty.”“One more word from you girl and you will be flogged beside Eithne. Where is my disgusting daughter these days? Whoring around, no doubt.”The two princesses exchanged worried glances. Megan seemed at a loss and so it was Becca who provided the distraction.“Yellow is such an ugly colour. I’m not wearing it, and that’s final.”“Very well, my dear. Do without. I’m sure a nubile young nude like you will raise many a staff.”“You must concede,” Isabel urged. “A horrible garment is better than nothing.”“Horrible, you say? Someone else appears to be itc
Eithne supposed it could have been worse. They were still alive and down in the dungeon now. Guisset had been removed a short time ago and they could hear his agonised screams which soon stopped. When he returned, bloody and barely able to stand, even she felt pity for the state of his poor feet.“They call it the bastinado,” he told her in his broken Ormondian.“Speak Frankish, if it helps,” she urged. “I understand both.”“Yes, don’t mind me.”How could she have forgotten about her companion?“Sorry, Rowanne.”“Now, if it were Norse, I could just about get by. Let me examine that head wound.”But the mercenary brushed her aside.“I bleed easily. It’s worse than it looks.”The Princess interpreted his words for their companion’s benefit. That was when Eithne realised her time of the month had come and gone without even a trickle. She gasped aloud, feeling slightly sick.“Stay strong,” Rowanne said, eyeing her with sympathy. Let them think her squeamish. It was better than the alterna
There was to be an unscheduled match between Brutus and a new gladiator, Augustus. Eithne was dismayed to hear it would result in the death of one of them. Isabel was behaving strangely, unable to keep still. She kept glancing at Augustus as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.When Megan enlightened her as to the reason for the contest, the Princess swayed on her feet.“An additional incentive, gladiators,” Clara proclaimed, lifting her eyes heavenwards. “The winner can look forward to not just one woman, but three. The virgin, the whore and the warrior. Step forward Eithne and – Claudia, why are you wearing that hideous outfit? Go below and change.”“Into a man’s harness and leather skirt, Your Majesty?”“The looser the fit, the better, eh boys? I take it there are some spares? Good. My daughter will wear the same thing. We may even have a curtain-raiser.” She tittered. “You can never have enough feminine flesh on display.”That was when Eithne followed the direction of Clara’s specula