“These foreign women have bewitching powers. We should never have entered into an agreement with the otherworlders.”
Ronen listened to his brother’s bitter tone and nodded in agreement. Sorin fared little better in his choice of mate, already regretting his hasty actions as he glared at those gathered in the hall. Tension rolled from the lord’s shoulders and Ronen knew better than to ask for details. When Sorin was angry, it was best to leave him be. One irritating move and he’d rip a man’s head from his body. But, for all that rage, he would never lay a rough hand on his new bride. Even with Bianka, he’d never struck her and that woman deserved it.
Ronen related to the feeling and practically growled at the shadowy reflection in his pale yellow drink. His desire had been sated, somewhat, and replaced by fury. She tried to get out of their arrangement. How dare Jayne choose him, kiss him like that in front of everyone at the breeding ceremony and then try to leave him. This was his life, not a game. His stomach tightened into big knots. Only one thing had changed from her decision to take him as a mate. They’d had sex. By the teeth of the damned, it had been awhile. Had he truly been such a bad, clumsy lover? The idea that he’d failed kept him from repeating the act a second time, no matter how enthusiastically his cock wished for him to run back up the Mace Tower stairs. He needed to calm the lust running rampant in his blood so he could concentrate and do it right.
“Witches,” Ronen muttered, waving to a maid to refill his goblet. As the woman dared to make her way to the ill-tempered brothers, Sorin motioned Sir Rian to join them at the table. By the un-tortured look of his expression, Ronen assumed the man hadn’t chosen a woman.
Lucky knight. Would that we had been so smart.
“Any word from Lord Serik’s man? Do the Caniba armies march against the forces at Spearhead?” Sorin asked.
“They do not march yet, but Lord Martin suspects it will be soon.” Rian took a seat next to Sorin, his steady brown gaze meeting both men briefly. “Sorceress Magda’s scouts were captured in the southern marshes, but at the loss of two good men—Richard of Daggerpoint and Peeter of Fallenrock. They died well and were not taken by those cannibals. Sir Vidar goes to lead the interrogations. He has already left with his new bride.”
“Vidar, too?” Ronen let loose a long breath. It would seem all three of the foreign women had been claimed, not that it surprised him. Women were scarce and men were lonely. The fourth, Lady Paige, had been an arguably spiteful gift from the fairies and would go home with her husband, Sir Aidan, to be punished as he saw fit. Perhaps the foreign women were defective and should be sent back to their worlds. Surely Divinity only gave away those they needed to be rid of. The Starians should have known the deal was too sweet an offer. Blue mineral water for willing wives? More like water for witches.
“Yea, Vidar, as well.” Rian agreed. “Though he looked about as pleased as the two of…” The words tapered off and Rian gave the brothers a sheepish look.
“And Aidan?” Sorin asked.
“He did not look well when he left Battlewar.” Rian sighed, leaning forward to grab an abandoned goblet at the head table and lift it to a maid. She nodded, running to fetch him a clean one. “Nor did Lady Paige.”
“This is a bad year for finding mates,” Ronen put forth grimly. “Perhaps we should cancel the ceremonies, especially those involving the otherworlders.”
“The decisions are made,” Sorin broke in, giving Ronen a look of warning. He would not like any hint of dishonorable thoughts, especially not in front of witnesses. As the oldest brother, he took their familial duty very seriously. “There is no reason to contemplate them.”
Rian nodded once in agreement. “Though, it does not mean we have to choose the women they send.”
“What other news?” Ronen inquired.
“Not much else. Lines hold strong on both sides. Vidar hopes to discover where the Sorceress’s encampment lies. We suspect she is in the Hanging Forest, but we can’t find any who will speak of her. All they say is she lives in the ground like a serpent, rising up from the earth to feed. It’s impossible to tell her numbers, and Sir Fredrick is still not the same since being held her prisoner. We must leave him in a room lined with mattresses to keep him from bashing his own skull against the stone walls of his chambers. He must eat without trencher or knife and a guard watches him at all times.” Rian didn’t reveal anything they didn’t already know, more or less, and the news of Fredrick saddened Ronen’s heart.
One of the self-proclaimed queens of the Caniba tribes, Sorceress Magda was as elusive as she was cruel. It was whispered that she studied the black arts and her followers, before being allowed to bear the mark of her soldiers, were made to dance with the serpent. Whoever endured the serpent’s poison and lived was allowed to serve and they did so with blind obedience and obsession. Over the last four years, she’d been one of the more aggressive Caniba factions attacking the borders.
“We should ride to the borderlands,” Ronen said, lightly touching his bruised eye. He’d had worse injuries in battle, but somehow this one stung more. “We will be of more use there.”
“We have not been summoned,” Sorin lowered his voice to a whisper, “and, unless the king orders otherwise, we will be forced to bring the women with us.”
“Not if they become with child,” Ronen reasoned, suddenly sorry he’d spoken the idea out loud. He wanted children, many of them, but he was certain the woman abovestairs wouldn’t be so inclined.
Sorin tensed, a severe frown crossing his features. “We would do better to pray for war, Brother.”
“Witches,” Ronen grumbled, falling into the comfort of his foul mood. “The gods have cursed us with witches.”
“Yea, these be a poor lot of women,” a brunette maid grouched as she lifted her arms over her head to hang a fresh tapestry in the long corridor. Jayne stayed crouched beside a door inset into the stone, shaded from their view. A large metal urn on the floor reflected the blurry figures just enough that Jayne could watch what they were doing.
“What do you expect, Nan? I told you foreigners wouldn’t suit our men as well as we.” A second servant laughed with pride. Her thick red hair was piled high on her head. “Only Starian women know how to properly please Starian men.”
“It’s too bad Lord Sorin and Lord Ronen didn’t take their two south like the others,” Nan said. “I wonder if Ronen’s wench is anything like Lady Lilith.”
“That one thinks she’s the Princess of the Black Tower, or my name isn’t Hannah. Barely said a word to us while we were up there. Princess Lilith, that one. Well, I will show her princess.” Hannah lifted her foot and pretended to kick.
“Barely did a thing to poor Lord Sorin,” Nan giggled. “Did you see the poor knight walking funny like his serpent was still full of venom? How hard is it to lie back and let a man have his way? I daresay I looked forward to an ease in that nobleman’s temper. Now she’s gone and made him worse. He practically strangled Sera in the stairwell. She was lucky those stairs are so close to the kitchen so we would have been able to hear her screams.”
Hannah gave a dark laugh, stepping back to eye the tapestry on the wall. She nodded once in approval of it. “Don’t you worry about that. I took her clothes out with the old bedding. One look at her naked body, even one as skinny as hers, and Lord Sorin will take what he needs from her, willing or no. That will cool his beast.”
“Should we check on Ronen’s wench?” Nan asked, as the women walked away.
“He’s drinking with his brother and did not order us up to his tower. Let his wench fend for herself. If his dark mood is any sign, she knows nothing of spreading her legs either.” Hannah laughed, prompting Nan to join her. They lifted up the rolled tapestry they’d just replaced and carted it off down the hall under their arms. “In some ways it serves the lords right for choosing otherworlders from the Divinity deal. It’s not what the gods intended for our people. Had they been patient and waited for a blessing, they’d have been given a woman who knows how to move her hips.”
Like you’re some prize to have in bed, miserable cat. Jayne frowned after the women, as she pushed to her feet. I know how to please a man. Lord Ronen wasn’t complaining when I got done with him.
Thinking of how desperate Ronen had been only made her eager to turn around and return to his bed. The fear of being trapped stopped her. She could not stay here and be some man’s love slave—even if the mere thought of him caused her legs to tremble. The fact that she wanted him made her fear him all the more. Thankfully, in such a world as this, the man would never come to care for her. He probably wouldn’t even bother searching for her should she run. Or, if he did, he’d soon give up.
Since Ronen confiscated her gown, she simply took one of his tunics—a long black affair with a red patch on the chest. The sleeves were too long so she cut them off to uncover her hands. Then she used one of the strips to tie her hair back away from her face and the other to sheathe the blade she had tied to her upper thigh with a piece of belt. The decorative jewel hilt of the knife would make for good barter should she have a need to trade it. The short boots she’d stolen from a laundry room pinched her toes but were better suited to running through a prairie than bare feet.
She resisted the urge to follow after the servants to give them a piece of her mind. Then again, she could always thank them for their gossiping help. With Karre and Paige out of the castle, it would mean she only had to find Lilith. Sure, she didn’t really owe the woman anything and, by all reasoning, she could have left Lilith to fend for herself, but Jayne wasn’t like that. When a child slipped through the orphanage’s bars, they helped all they could through behind them. Besides, she didn’t want to go it alone. Regardless of her strength and bravery, this was still a strange land and a strange people. Jayne could use all the friends she could get. Nothing made faster friends than two people fighting for the same cause—freedom.
Already she’d made slow progress through the castle. It would seem most of the occupants were in the main hall drinking in celebration, so she stuck to the narrow passageways and mazelike tunnels that wound around the central room. The blue-gray stone walls and minimal decorations made it hard to navigate—especially if the maids continued to change the tapestries.
Jayne had run into more than a few amorous couples in the act of “taking the venom out of the serpent”. One pair, a knight and his busty mistress, went at it on a stairway leading down to utter darkness. Their clothes were simply pushed aside while they fucked hard and desperate, grunting like wild beasts. Another man found pleasure by his mistress’s lips as she busied herself beneath the front flap of his long tunic. He kept his eyes closed, moaning softly as the shape of her head bobbed up and down beneath the green material.
By far the most salacious was the servant who took two men at once, sandwiched between them as one pressed his back into the wall. Jayne saw them through a cracked door, perfectly positioned as if they invited others to watch what they did. When she crawled past, she noticed that was exactly what was happening. A third man sat on a chair, stroking himself as he enjoyed the sexual exploits of the performers.
Jayne had been to wild parties before, but never on such a grand scale as this. There were more couples locked in various ways and not a one noticed her as she passed. Maybe this castle was a brothel of some sort and these soldiers were here on leave from their home dimension. Is that what happened? They paid the castle Madame to claim a woman in some strange custom in the front hall, took their fill of them and then left the woman for the next man? Did they know who she was? Was getting a chance to fuck the famous Jayne “The Sweet” Hart some sort of high-dollar draw? Rich men had offered her a lot of money in the past—not that she’d ever taken it. She’d seen women on the street who fell into such a life for the sake of survival. Jayne was surviving on her own. She didn’t need to be a man’s paid whore. But, with losing so much money in the last fight for Divinity, had they come up with a way for her to pay them back? She wondered how much Ronen paid for her. Was that why he hesitated when she lay claim? The whore wasn’t supposed to pick her patron? Or had he been calculating the worth of her cost? Is that why he got mad? He’d paid for her and she was trying to renege on a deal she hadn’t realized she’d made?
I’m going to throw up.
“All the more reason to find Lilith and get out of here,” she said under her breath. Never having played the part of the prude, Jayne didn’t relish the idea of being any man’s permanent or temporary plaything. If luck were on her side, she’d find that kitchen and the Black Tower steps soon.
She hurried down several corridors, doing her best to navigate through the halls unseen. Slowing as she neared a sharp corner, she listened first and peeked second. The faint sound of padded footsteps caught her attention before being drowned out by a boisterous laughter from the main hall. She’d traveled along the back wall of the main hall, ending up on the opposite end of the castle. Jayne tensed, inching back, her legs ready to make a run for it should a boisterous knight happen upon her.
A woman appeared, dressed in a black tunic similar to the one Jayne now wore, only the sleeves were rolled instead of cut, and the lady had wrapped a belt around her midsection. Seeing the long, straight blonde hair, Jayne nearly laughed with relief. Lilith. It would seem luck did favor her. She suppressed the urge to make a sound and bit her lip.
Lilith appeared to be alone, as she glanced first at the noisy hall and then back the other direction. With no way to call out to her for fear of drawing attention, Jayne crept up behind her and slid her hand over the woman’s mouth.
“Hey,” Jayne whispered in her ear, pulling her back past the stairwell she’d emerged from into a hidden inlet.
Lilith tensed, jerking in alarm at the sudden attack. She began to claw at the hand over her mouth, but Jayne turned her around so they faced each other. Lilith instantly relaxed, though her eyes remained wary.
Pressing close in the tight space of the narrow alcove, Jayne glanced down meaningfully and gave a light laugh. “Looks like we shop at the same store.”
Lilith followed Jayne’s gaze downward, but didn’t answer.
“I overheard the maids talking. I was about to come up to the tower to get you.” She looked at Lilith’s bare feet. “Couldn’t find any shoes to steal? Follow me, there’s a laundry room this way. They have shoes.”
Still Lilith didn’t answer. The poor thing looked terrified and completely out of her element. She almost felt sorry for those wide blue eyes. What had that giant of a man Lord Sorin done to her? Surely, he didn’t break her spirit already? The maid said nothing happened between Lilith and Sorin, but seeing the woman’s pale face, Jayne wasn’t so sure. Some men had strange tastes.
Deciding scared company was better than none, she hoped to spur the woman into action and put her at ease. Jayne leaned forward and kept her voice low. She tugged on Lilith’s arm. “Come with me. I promise Lord Sorin won’t touch you again, but you have to make a fight of it.”
“Wait.” Lilith refused to move.
Damn those almost innocent blue eyes. They instantly drummed up protective, big-sister feelings inside of her. She’d seen that look on the faces of children as they came to the orphanage—scared, confused, hopeful and still capable of love. And then the years would hit them and Jayne would watch those eyes fade and the hope die. The death of the soul was worse than physical death and hurt a lot more.
“What did they do to you?” Lilith whispered, as if scared to hear the answer. “Did they hurt you?”
Jayne tried not to think about how great Ronen’s body felt inside hers and lied, “No, they didn’t touch me, but I don’t want to give them the chance to.”
How could she admit to what she’d done? Especially if someone had gotten paid for her to do it?
“What are you planning to do?” Lilith asked with a tinge of desperation.
“Karre and Paige have been taken south by a couple of the barbarians. With any luck, we’ll be able to find them. Paige seems to know her way around this backwater place.” Jayne again tried to pull her. “The timing is perfect. They’re in there having a party and getting drunk. It will be dark soon. We’ll find a way out of the castle and wait until nightfall. If we travel by dark, we should make it through the prairie to the forest. From there, by the grace of some miracle, we’ll find a trail to follow—”
“You’re going to escape?” Lilith jerked Jayne back, keeping her from leaving. “You can’t, Jayne. I’ve talked to a few of the servants. If we displease them, I think they might kill us.”
“They didn’t kill Paige for running,” Jayne reasoned.
“Yet,” Lilith asserted. “How do you know that’s not what they’re taking her south for? You heard the guard. Her master might delve out a harsh punishment.”
Jayne felt the color draining from her face. “What would you have us do? We can’t stay here forever, waiting for them to get tired of us. What if they try to philter us like the others—whatever that means. What if they make us take on more men? If you saw what I saw walking these hallways, you’d know we have to run. I can’t stay here and be a whore and that’s exactly what I think this place is. A whorehouse.”
“I was told the philter is a drug to make you forget you’ve been here. They said those women from the cell with us were sent home because they were unsuitable.”
“I don’t think that’ll work for us. We’ve been chosen to stay,” Jayne drawled mockingly. Though, it did sting that those whiny bitches from the cell got to go home and they were stuck here. Maybe she should learn to cry and pout more. Perhaps then Ronen would ship her off to be rid of her. Jayne wondered if she even had it in her to muster up fake tears. Fists were much more her thing.
“I think we should stay in the castle for now. Sorin didn’t seem too keen on passing me around to all the men.” Lilith reached to touch her shoulder lightly. “Are you sure you weren’t hurt? Did your man…? Did he make you…?”
“Ronen? No. He didn’t try to pass me out.” Jayne said, only to add silently, yet. “I would have ripped off his balls had he tried.”
Lilith’s eyebrows lowered in thought as she reasoned, “I can learn more here in civilization than in the woods. If we keep our heads low and try to behave, maybe we’ll find a way home. I think we’ll have better luck here at a castle than in the wild. Besides, running is too big of a gamble. How will we survive in the wilderness? How will we eat? What kind of animals are in the forest? Poisons? Flora and fauna? Insects? What about the people the Starians are fighting? What’s out there could be much, much worse than what is in here. Paige seemed really scared when she spoke of the monsters.”
“Paige could be lying. This castle could be a theme place and beyond the compound is a thriving society with technological advances. Whatever it is, I can’t stay here. I’m not scared of dying,” Jayne put forth grimly. “But I will never live as some man’s slave. Please come with me.”
Jayne followed Lilith’s contemplative gaze as she looked to the main hall. They heard a low murmur of conversation with the random bouts of laughter filtering in. If they were going to leave, they needed to go now while the men were distracted with their party. Maids or knights could happen upon them at any moment.
“I can’t go with you,” Lilith decided. “I’m taking my chances here.”
“Do you have a plan?”
Lilith nodded, not looking too sure of herself. “I think so. If I find a way to escape, I’ll do my best to let you know about it.”
“And if I do, I’ll try to send word,” Jayne glanced down and smiled, “in a pair of shoes.”
“Good luck to you then.” Lilith looked as if she might hug her, but stopped and instead held out her hand.
“And to you.” Jayne clasped it briefly. “Don’t let them break you. One way or another, we’re going home. I promise.”
“She is my wife.” Ronen stumbled into the wall and frowned at the stone. How did that get so close? He pushed away, continuing up the Mace Tower stairwell, only to hit the other side. When did the stairwell become so narrow? “I will grab her, shake her and tell her, ‘you are my wife, my lady, um, my Lady Jayne’.”
It was a plan. A great plan. A brilliant plan. She’d have to listen to his decree. He was a lord after all and a great leader. Men had to listen to him, why not his bride?
“Ugh,” Ronen grabbed his head as his vision swam. He would declare his position and then to bed. Tomorrow he’d talk to Sera about the mead. It should not have been so strong. He’d only had…
Ronen frowned. How much did he drink? He started to sit down on the stairs only to catch himself. Why didn’t Sera insist he eat something? Or had she? He vaguely remembered throwing a tray of food onto the hall floor.
“Jayne.” He’d forgotten in all his irritation to order food sent to their room for her. Hopefully, Sera remembered. The servant was usually good about those things. It’s why she held the position of honor in Battlewar Castle. “Jayne will be rested and fed, and now it will be time for her to listen as I explain her role as my wife. Starting with my bed.”
The thought quickened his steps as he hurried the rest of the way to his chambers. Desire heated his liquored blood, causing his skin to tingle and his cock to lift high and proud. He opened the door, his eyes eagerly seeking the bed. She wasn’t there. Then again, why would she be? This was not her room. Crossing over the floor with purpose, he opened the door to where she would be sleeping.
“Jayne,” he announced, pointing his finger into the darkness. “You are my wife and that means something.”
She didn’t answer. The fireplace in her room had not been lit so he couldn’t see beyond the soft glow coming from his own chamber.
“Jayne,” he continued, holding onto the door frame. “You are a Lady of Firewall and there will be no more talk of you leaving me. The decision is made. I understand that there is nothing in the tradition of warriors choosing women from a group they just met that ensures a great, great, ah…” He frowned, blinking hard. “A great joining of two households, er, people. What I mean to say is at least I didn’t raid your village like my ancestors used to do, grab you and cart you off to my bed. And you chose me for a husband without having ever met me. That must mean something. I didn’t ask for a wife, didn’t pray to the gods for one. You just happened.”
Still she said nothing. It was just as well she listened. He had much he wanted to get straight with her.
“Though, many of us agree the raids were easier. That way we did not have to leave the battlefront to bother with a ceremony so far north in the kingdom.” He paused, shaking his head. What was he talking about? Oh, his wife. “You are my wife and the gods chose you for me as a reward to my great service in battle. They brought you from your otherworld and we will have sons and if so blessed daughters when I am not at war. I will take care of you and protect you.”
Still nothing.
“I realize earlier I might have been overeager, but I should like to make that up now.” Desire at the idea of bedding her curled within him, stirring his lust to settle heavy in the already thick mass of his cock. “We Starian men have needs and I would not have you turning me away from your bed, but, if you command it, I will leave you be. I am not a monster.”
She didn’t answer. Did that mean she accepted him? He took a step toward where the bed would be hidden in the darkness. Reaching out, his fingers bumped into the mattress. Excitement pumped in his veins and he prayed to all his gods that he’d be able to satisfy her this time. His hands remembered the feel of her skin. His mind conjured the silk of her flesh, the softness of her breasts, the athletic perfection of her form.
Pulling out of his tunic, he tossed it aside. Ronen crawled onto the bed, feeling around for her. Whispering, his hands shook, as he admitted, “I would have happiness between us, Jayne, and perhaps, in time, affection. I know it’s not required in a marriage, or even sought, but I would have us come to care for each other.”
Why wouldn’t she speak? He’d laid bare his soul, a feat harder than facing a hundred Caniba warriors in battle.
“Jayne?” His hand slid over the bed. The coverlet hadn’t been ruffled. In disbelief, he kept searching. If she wasn’t in here and she wasn’t in his chambers, then…
The realization sobered him greatly. She wasn’t there. He leapt from her bed. Running to his room, he grabbed an unlit torch and thrust it into the fire. Once lit, he went back to search for her. Torchlight cast over her unruffled bed and revealed the unused chair and vanity.
“Jayne?” he called, knowing he wouldn’t receive an answer from the empty space. He checked his own room again, his gaze scanning over the bed and trunk. Finally, they landed on this weapons’ wall to the spot where the jeweled blade he’d had since childhood should have been.
Ronen’s first thought was the Caniba had snuck in and stolen her away. He quickly dismissed it. That was not how the Caniba fought. They attacked in the open, crazed man-eating beasts without reason or thought, driven by their primal needs. There was no way they’d slip through the gates, pass through town and a castle filled with knights and servants. Not looking and acting as they did—smelly, pelt-covered monsters with sunken eyes and sharpened teeth.
But if not their enemies, then it would mean she’d left him on her own. Hoping that she’d gone in search of food, or to explore, he rushed down the stairs still carrying his torch. He turned away from the main hall’s entrance, going to the maze of halls running behind it. Seeing a servant, he handed her the torch. “Have you seen Lady Jayne?” At the woman’s blank look, he clarified, “My wife. Have you seen her?”
The maid shook her head in denial. “No, my lord.”
Ronen’s heart beat heavily in his chest, echoing in the caverns of his ears. With each person who told him they hadn’t seen her, the more panicked he became. The servants and guards joined in the search, spreading from inside the castle to the inner bailey.
Sera brought him herbs to help clear his head of the liquor, but clarity of thought only convinced him that Jayne had run away. Thoughts of his brother’s first wife, Bianka, filled him with fear. What if he was cursed to relive Sorin’s pain? Seeing the torture the evil woman had put Sorin through had torn at Ronen’s heart. His brother had never been the same. A vital part of him had died, leaving a hard shell.
What if Jayne did to him what Bianka had done? What if she suffered the same fate?
In the very short time he’d been in her presence, Ronen didn’t suspect the lady to be a selfish witch who drained the very life force from those around her. But then, Sorin had thought Bianka a tender heart in need of protection. Only later did her true, cruel nature come out. Her own people had shoved her into a fairy ring to be rid of her.
Ronen thought of what he’d been prepared to confess to his new bride, of his desire for something more, deeper, in their lives together. If the men were to find out it would be an embarrassment, let alone if word reached his older brother. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have bared his soul like that? It was a small blessing she hadn’t heard, and he would not be making the same mistake twice.
“Ronen!” Sorin stormed across the torch lit bailey. Tension radiated from his stiff movements and he looked like he’d crawled through the very heart of Caniba. “What news is this?”
“Jayne is gone.” Ronen took a deep breath, trying to hide the pain he felt at admitting the words out loud. “You were right. I should have stayed strong and not allowed her to influence my choice. Now I have dishonored—”
“No,” Sorin stated, cutting him off. He put his hand on Ronen’s shoulder, drawing him near as he quietly stated, “We will find her before she dishonors you or our family. Are any horses missing?”
“No.” Ronen shook his head.
“Then she is on foot. With the celebration tonight it would have been easy for her to slip through town and out the gate without being noticed. None of us thought another bride would run from her wedding night so soon after Lady Paige. It will not happen a third time. Precautions will be made in the future.” Sorin motioned his hand to a nearby page. “Our horses!”
Several of the men heard the command and hurried to order their mounts as well, without having to be asked to ride out.
“We will find her, Brother,” Sorin assured him. “Feet cannot outrun horses, even if she has hours upon us. And, if you have to, you will lock her away in a tower to keep her safe. This will be made right.”
Ronen didn’t answer. He knew Sorin also thought of Bianka’s escape. Only, with Bianka, they’d not found her in time. Firewall Castle had been closer to the borderlands and all who lived there were busy with the fire. By the time Sorin and Ronen were told of her disappearance, it was too late. She’d crossed over the Caniba border and propositioned one of their raiding parties. First, they took what she offered, then they took her valuables and her horses, and then they took her for food. It was a nightmarish day they would never forget.
“She is not Bianka,” Sorin hissed, willing it to be so with the hard tone of his voice. Even so, his gaze wavered in its certainty. Turning, he yelled, “Twenty men. We ride!”
Ronen blinked, spurred into action as he strode to take his horse. Two pages arrived, carrying weapons from the armory for the brothers. Another handed Ronen a tunic shirt.
By all the bloody battlefields, do not let the Caniba take her.
“Good ride, my lords!” the young boys yelled, unable to hide their excitement. How little they understood what happened.
Ronen ignored them, grabbing the reins and swinging up before slipping on his shirt. Then, taking the weapons, he rode for the gate, letting the horse guide the way as he tightened the cross strap of the scabbard over his shoulder and across his chest to his waist. To himself, he cursed, trying to forget his fears as he held onto his anger. “My wife has run away. The gods truly frown upon me.”