Eithne really wished Ephron would make himself scarce, though he showed no signs of abandoning her. Did he too think, like Megan, that she would jump? She didn’t know whether to be relieved or irritated when she saw the small delegation in the form of the two other princesses making their way towards her. She sincerely doubted they were fawning over her brother, who had changed considerably in two years. “How are you both faring?” she greeted them, motioning with her hand for Ephron to move away. He didn’t take the hint, staring at Ava like a predator. As far as she could recall, her brother hadn’t lusted after females so openly, but perhaps someone she knew all too well had unleashed the beast. Isabel was the only one who smiled. She had been spending time tending to Flavius’ injuries and it seemed a firm friendship was forming. “Iain was telling me … ” she began, and paused as a bird of prey – probably a falcon – flew overhead. “Oh, isn’t it magnificent? Such speed.” “This one

“I need your help,” she said, “starting from now.” Eithne was too shocked to protest, while Megan demanded to know on whose authority. “Clara won’t like it if she isn’t aware.” The female gladiator ignored her, crossing the threshold and surveying the richly-appointed chamber. A frown formed on her forehead and she went over to the far side of the room. Without warning, she took the dagger from her belt and stuck it into a small opening in the wall. “Has that always been there?” Eithne shook her head. “If I were you I’d undress behind a screen in future,” Rowanne said. Crouching down, she inspected a hole in the flagstones, shaking her head in a way which didn’t disclose what she was thinking. “The Princess would be far safer under your protection,” Megan said. “A flatterer. Why didn’t you warn her?” “Because I didn’t know.” Slowly, it dawned on Eithne that there had been a clandestine witness to her wanton romp. She clapped a hand over her mouth, feeling slightly sick. “My

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’

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

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