[The Adventures of Grace Quinlan and Lord William Hayden 03] • Adventures of Grace Quinlan and Lord William Hayden in the Lost City of the Incas

Excerpt: The circle of armed guards parted, allowing Hayden an unobstructed view. His throat constricted and he opened his mouth in a silent gasp. Face pressed against a wood post, Grace was tied to it by her head, arms and waist. The shirt on her back was shredded and bloody. "Bastards!" Hayden cried. At the same time he noticed she was barely conscious, and unable to turn her head because of the bindings. His name echoed through the square and he turned in the direction of Talbot’s voice. Holding a partially coiled whip, the Inca advanced toward him. Rage filled Lord Hayden as he noticed the blood on the leather tong, Grace’s blood. The guards seized him before he could lunge at Talbot, and held him immobile. Talbot regarded Lord Hayden quizzically for a moment, then without preamble, he threw the whip at his rival’s feet and motioned the guards to release him. The oddity of the Inca’s action caused Lord Hayden to think twice before following his first impulse to pick up the whip and flay the Inca to a lifeless pulp for the suffering he had caused Grace.

"Pick it up, Lord Hayden," Talbot said. "You want to kill me, don’t you? This is your chance. A duel between us. The winner gets all, including Grace." Talbot unsheathed a long narrow knife. Lord Hayden’s rage, his anger and his determination in the face of obstacles decided him. He picked up the whip. The next events happened so quickly that he had only time to absorb their meaning and utter a broken rasp. The binding holding Grace’s head to the post was cut. Water was thrown in her face. She moaned and turned her head weakly and looked at Lord Hayden. Droplets of water hung on her face scratched and bruised. Lord Hayden watched them slide down her cheeks and mix with blood, tears and mud. It was evident she had put up quite a struggle. Her gaze was not totally focused, but he could read cognition in it as it settled on the whip he was holding, and then moved back to his face. It lingered there a moment, filling with hurt beyond reparation as it silently asked, how he could have hurt her so. Starting toward her, Lord Hayden opened his mouth to deny vehemently the accusation. The same guard who had cut the cord that had bound Grace’s head to the post, lifted his spear and with its butt struck her, knocking her unconscious. Talbot howled an order and a soldier tore the whip from Lord Hayden’s hand. The Inca’s laughter crackled and permeated the square. The circle of soldiers restraining Lord Hayden parted. Talbot advanced. "And now, Eros," he said, slithering hatred in his voice, "Psyche’s love is taken from you, as you stole it from me two millenniums ago." He paused to savor his victory, and then he ordered the guards, "Take him away!"...