A high-pitched screech jerked Sean awake. He stood, sword in hand, before his eyes were opened all the way. A woman screamed again. He remembered where he was and glanced toward the pallet. It was empty. His heart leapt into his throat.
Sean yanked open the door. Laughing and loud talking drifted to him. Men up to no good. He walked soundlessly down the stairs, pausing to secure his sword and tuck the dagger from his boot into his belt, wishing he’d thought to don his leine.
Stopping a few steps from the bottom, he peered around the opening. The back door stood ajar. The red glow of the fire gave off little light. The owner no longer visible. Helmets, leather, and weapons were dropped by the front door as if men had entered in a hurry. Norman soldiers. There had been no soldiers earlier. The men that had been there were gone. Thomasina was not there either.
The red-headed wench was bent over the trestle table, her naked buttocks facing him. A tall, thin man kicked her feet wider and flattened her against the wooden surface before blocking Sean’s view.
“Come on now, ye Saxon bitch.” He yanked down his trews, his filthy, bare arse exposed. “One for me now.”
The men around them laughed. He covered her and the men cheered him on. There was a movement outside. As if in a dream, the scene unfolded before Sean. Nell screeched again. Thomasina came through the door and froze, her eyes locked on the man with Nell. Her mouth dropped open.
“Stop!” Her words held the ring of authority but sounded distinctly feminine.
The men turned toward her. Their surprise visible in the frowns and raised eyebrows, and they quickly sized her up. An eerie assortment of grunts, grumbles, and what he’d swear were groans of appreciation filled Sean’s ears. Dagger in one hand, sword in the other, he leapt into the room with a thud.
The men’s attention quickly diverted to him. Their eyes widened with surprise and fear. One little man with a nasty grin that had shifted toward Thomasina halted and faced him.
“I believe the lad said to stop.” Sean’s booming voice filled the small space.
The soldiers glanced around as if to ask what they were supposed to do. Their eyes came to rest on one man. A blotchy-faced, chicken-chest of a man sitting off to the side, watching. His greasy, brown hair streaked with gray pulled back from his face. Their leader.
“Step away from the woman,” Sean ordered.
The man stepped away with slow movements as if afraid he might be run through before he complied. His stiffened cock wagged in front of him before he thought to pull his trews up.
Sean walked further into the room. He signaled with his head for Thomasina to get up the stairs. She listened without comment.
“The woman is for hire.” Sean lowered his weapons just slightly. A signal that if they wanted to be reasonable, he was willing. “Why force her?”
The leader stood, adjusted himself, and walked toward Sean. His head only came up to Sean’s shoulder which he grasped before he spoke. “My friend, the problem is… we don’t want to pay.”
Sean glanced at Nell who righted her clothing. She spat at the man who had been about to impale her. He moved to slap her but Sean’s sword was quicker when he placed it between them and shook his head. The man glanced toward their leader who gave a barely discernible nod of his head before backing down.
“Men need their sport.”
“She does not have an aversion to the sport. She’s merely trying to feed herself,” Sean said.
The leader dropped his hand and nodded thoughtfully. “But these are good Norman soldiers. They’re keeping the countryside free from… rabble.”
“Ye’re taking her wares.”
Their leader narrowed his eyes at this. His steely gaze seemed to be measuring Sean’s willingness to fight over this woman. Sean focused his attention on the man. His willingness to fight was without question.
“So you believe each man here should pay to fuck her?”
“Otherwise it would be stealing. Ye ken?”
Their leader’s lips pressed into a stiffened line as if hiding his amusement. He raised his eyebrows in a questioning expression. “Where are you from?”
The soldiers tensed toward Sean as if waiting to hear his answer.
Sean lifted the tip of his blade just a hair. “I am from the west.”
Nervous glances toward their gear left by the door heightened Sean’s readiness for battle. His size alone usually kept men at a distance. He had no problem taking them on either.
“Across the sea!” Their leader smirked at him then glanced at his men. “Ye ken?”
They laughed as if on cue.
“You’re a dumb farmer?” The man at Sean’s left shifted his feet after he’d asked the question. His face disfigured and reddened, possibly from boiling water or tar. A battle-seasoned soldier.
“You’ve the right of it, Will,” the leader said.
Sean stood straighter. He looked down on the man. His expression tight. “Dumb? Nae.”
The disfigured man sneered, his lips and chin the only area unmarred, and moved in closer. “What are you then?”
“A warrior.”
All sound stopped in the room. No one dared to breathe. There were only seven of them. He’d won in more uneven matches than this. That’s when he’d been the only one he needed to think about. Sean wished Thomasina had a means of escape from the area he’d relegated her to. Protecting her from these men was paramount.
“So are yer men willing to pay for their… satisfaction?” Sean questioned.
“I don’t want their blood money.” Nell let loose her outrage at their treatment. “They can just leave. Go!” She directed them to the door with a sweep of her hand. “Go!”
Sean had hoped to defuse the situation but lusty men coming from battle were not to be provoked. Her anger at them would cause resentment. A lesson apparently lost on the wench.
“Mayhap a drink for ye.”
Sean froze. He swallowed hard and had to stop his jaw from dropping at the sound of Thomasina’s voice from behind him.
“Can I get that for ye?” she asked.
The soldiers’ eyes narrowed with suspicion. The leader tipped his head as if assessing this newest development. He watched her as she crossed in front of them, running his thumb along his bottom lip. Sean’s breath caught at the sight of her rounded bottom. Mayhap he should have mentioned that little oversight of her costume instead of making it his mission to block anyone else’s perusal.
She stretched across the trestle where Nell had just been held down against her will and offered a good view to all the soldiers. A collective groan of appreciation then sideways glances between a few of the men. Turning to face them with two jugs now in hand, she smiled.
The leader closed the distance to her in two steps, accepting the jug with a slight bow before placing it on the table.
“Aye. I’ll take that.” He snaked his arm around Thomasina’s back and turned her to face front. He held her up against him. His arm tight around her, just under her breasts which were thankfully bound. A knife glistened in his other hand, close to her neck. “And anything else I like.”
Sean didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. He didn’t dare react at all.
The men’s sighs of relief quickly changed to hoots and hollers of triumph. One man slapped Nell’s arse.
“You like this one don’t you, Warrior?” The leader’s smile reached his eyes this time, no doubt convinced he now had the upper hand.
Sean had hoped the men had missed his earlier interchange with Thomasina. If she’d stayed above, it wouldn’t have mattered if they hadn’t.
“Be at ease, men,” the leader announced in a loud voice. “There’s no worry here.” Thomasina gasped, the blade against her skin. “He won’t be stopping you from your fun now.”
The man who had been about to mount Nell jerked her close and threw her back on the table. He yanked her skirts up, spread her legs, and freed his ready cock.
They all nodded with appreciation, moving in close, ready to take their turn. Others moved about the room helping themselves to libations as if Sean were no longer present. Occasional nervous glances were the only sign that he still held their attention. His chest heaved in one low breath. He kept his eyes locked on Thomasina’s which were wide with fear. He pressed his lips together and his nostrils flared.
“Holding a lad hostage does not seem very soldier-like,” Sean said.
“No? I assure you ’tis very soldier-like in our army.” The leader guffawed and the others joined in. He turned Thomasina’s head, forcing her face toward him. “Bet you have a tight little arse.” He glanced at Sean without turning toward him. “Does he? Is that why you keep him to yourself?”
When his hand began its descent toward Thomasina’s backside, Sean pitched himself forward, his sword pointed straight out in front. In the blink of an eye, he speared the man through the chest. The dagger dropped harmlessly to the floor. Sean withdrew the sword as the body dropped to the ground. He shoved Thomasina behind him when he turned around to face the others. His sword at the ready before any of them even realized their leader was dead.
“Any other takers?” Sean asked.
Nell elbowed the man who was just positioning himself and rounded on him. She kicked him in the groin and he dropped to the floor with a hiss of pain. The scarred man took a step toward her.
“Enough!”
A large sound—a Saxon war cry—erupted outside. Sean’s blood surged in response to the primal sound. The grip on his sword tightened. The front door flew open, banging against the wall with the impetus. The soldiers’ eyes locked on to the armed men pouring into the room. The rabble. Armed with blades, axes, daggers, clubs, and a burning desire to rid themselves of the Normans’ abuses.
The soldiers stilled. Any chance to get their weapons blocked by the oncoming men. With no way to protect themselves, this would be a slaughter. Sean raised his sword, unsure which side he was on. Battle lust heightening his awareness. The woman behind him trembled uncontrollably. He could smell her fear.
Against the six unarmed Normans, the mob advanced, attacking without mercy. Slashing. Stabbing. Slicing. All staying clear of Sean.
Sean recognized Ivan, his beady, little eyes glistening with excitement where he watched from the doorway beside a much taller, hooded man. Blood squirted from the man closest to Nell as he dropped. The bald man from earlier had sliced the man’s throat, nearly decapitating him. The wench screamed in horror then worked her way through the malaise to the door, keeping her gown out of the blood that quickly pooled along the hard, dirt floor.
Thomasina shifted closer to Sean. The movement kept Sean’s focus on protecting her. He took her hand and made his way toward the front, against the tide of incoming men who shoved past him. They were intent on the Normans alone and had no interest in him. Sean and Thomasina were able to leave the room unmolested.
Outside, the death throes of the men could be heard mingling with the eerie, night sounds of wild beasts howling as if in sympathy. Sean and Thomasina ran to the grazing area where her horse was. He leapt onto Roana then reached his arm around Thomasina’s small middle to pull her in front of him. He cradled her against his chest. She was ice cold. A rein on either side, he turned the animal back toward the road.
A small, dark figure stood blocking their path. Ivan. “You not going to help us purge the land of these Normans?”
“I have no fight with the Normans.”
“They’ve killed and raped and if they can do it here, it won’t be long before they make it over the sea.”
Sean had seen the proof of what he said. He needed to get Thomasina away. “Ye prefer chaos then? Slaughter like this?”
Ivan stepped closer. He glanced between Sean and Thomasina. “The end is the same. Taking back the land.”
“Take it back from the Normans? For who? The Danes?”
Ivan laughed. “The Danes had their chance. No. Not the Danes. The Godwins.”
The animal sidestepped away from Ivan.
Sean had heard there were no Godwins that survived the battle when the Normans invaded. “I think ye’d be hard pressed to find a Godwin to crown.”
Ivan nodded. A slow, calculated nod as if he were assessing a game he planned to win. “I wouldn’t be so quick to think that. Will you fight with us then?”
“Not like this.” Sean tipped his head toward the inn where the sounds of the dead and dying could still be heard. He pulled the reins to go around the little man. Ivan stood fast then stepped away and allowed them to pass.
Sean urged the animal into a gallop and the darkness. The mayhem and massacre left far behind.
Thomasina woke up slowly, the sandy ground beneath her prickling at her skin, working into her trews and bindings. She itched all over.
“Argh.” She moaned in irritation before she opened her eyes.
Above her was the high, jagged ceiling that looked very much like the one in the cave her brother had left the ewes in.
Baaaa.
Thomasina jumped to her feet and looked around. The deer skin brat fell away from her to drop onto the floor. The same cave. The very one she had waited for her brother in. She glanced around. Where was Sean? Had he left her here and gone off to his life in Eire? A heaviness overwhelmed her. She dropped to the ground, rolling into a ball and covering herself again. Just as well. She had run out of options. Her only choice was to return to her father and be married off according to his wishes.
With her hands tucked under her head like a pillow, she closed her eyes to dream. Her father couldn’t touch those. He could order her where to go, what to do, who to marry, but not what to dream.
It was a beautiful loch nestled against a towering hill with heather and thistle. The place of her childhood when her mother still lived. The scent of lavender and honeysuckle filling the air and wild berries growing all around. She and Daisy could walk along the stream, stripping down to nothing if she wanted to take a swim. Nobody would care. She would be alone.
A tightening in her belly. Maybe not alone. She didn’t want to be alone. Maybe Sean would be there. With his broad chest and chiseled stomach. Hard as a rock. His arms safely around her. Anyone that came to insult her or hurt her would have to face him. He wouldn’t back down. He would stand up to anyone who would harm her.
They would work together to care for the livestock, work the land, and raise their many wee ones. And at night… he would hold her close. She could hear his heart beating. And she could touch him. She could run her fingers from neck to waist. No. She would stroke him from the firm tanned column of his neck, down his broad chest, over his rippled belly, dipping down to grasp his fine, hard prick. That fluttering was there again. Low, down between her legs.
“What are ye about?”
Thomasina lurched to sitting up, her mouth hanging open, feeling as if she’d been caught eating the last hunk of bread.
“What? Oh. Nothing.”
Sean crossed in front of her, his steps heavy as if he were tired. “Ye were making noise.”
Her face heated. She hadn’t realized. “I thought I was alone.”
He glanced toward her, a deep frown creasing his handsome face. Placing two large fish on the rock, he came to stand in front of her. He crossed his arms in such a way that she knew he was angry. She waited.
“Alone?” he finally asked.
Her breath caught. He was a fine-looking man. Awareness heightened her senses. It was as if having been in his arms, his body now called out to her, drawing her to him. She was safe in his arms. She would miss him when he left. She followed the dark line of hair down his belly that disappeared into his trews. She licked her parched lips.
“Are ye without a leine now?”
He didn’t budge. No acknowledgement that he’d heard her say anything. “Alone? Ye thought I had abandoned ye here?”
She shrugged. It didn’t matter what she thought. It didn’t matter what she felt. It didn’t matter what she said. “How long have I been asleep?”
“Through the night and now most of the day.”
“How did ye find this place?”
“The loud sound of bleating sheep helped me locate the spot.” He tipped his head toward the pen. “There’s only five. How many did ye say there were?”
She glanced toward the animals. They’d grown. Dirty, little bodies with dark faces. Snared and stuck with no way out. Sadness swamped her only to be replaced by nothingness. “I dunna remember.”
Sean turned away in a display of his impatience. “Back to that are we?”
“And what would that be?”
“Prevarication.”
Exasperation tightened her gut. Maybe not quite nothingness. She stood, her feet in a wide stance. “I said I dunna remember. Quite a lot has happened since then.”
Images of squirting blood, skin sliced open, limbs being separated from their bodies all flashed through her mind. And the sounds. Men crying out in agony. She dropped again to the floor feeling too weak to stand.
Sean was right there, kneeling beside her. His hand caressed her back with a light touch. “I ken ye’ve been through a lot. Such things are a trial even to a seasoned warrior.”
She searched his face. “I am afraid.”
He settled on the ground and gathered her in his arms, her head against his solid chest. The heat poured off him.
The sound of his heart beating steadily was like a balm, a reassurance that they were alive. He was alive. She rubbed her face against him, snuggling closer. He tightened his hold on her.
“Wheesht now, lassie.” He bent his head toward her, his lips close to her ear. She felt the warmth of his breath. A shiver traveled down her spine. “’Tis over. ’Tis done with.”
She wrapped her arm around his torso, wanting him closer still.
“Wheesht.”
“What goes on here?”
Thomasina’s eyes flew open. Fear leaped to life within her, closing off her lungs. She shoved off the strong chest of the man to stand and face her worst nightmare. Her father.
“What are ye doing, girl? Have ye given up the only thing of value ye have to this ruffian?”
Sean stood as well, more slowly. She sensed the tension in him at the insult. Her eyes bore into the disheveled man before her. His eyes bloodshot. Jowls wagging with his angry words. Her sire. She didn’t speak. She couldn’t speak.
“Did ye hear me? Are ye going to leave me standing here without an answer?” He put his fisted hands to his hips and glanced around the cave. “Yer brother here as well?”
He didn’t appear drunk but it had been a very long time since she’d seen him sober. Sean stood beside her.
Her father took a step closer, bending his head back to look up at Sean. “And who to hell are ye? And what are ye doing with yer arms about my only, precious daughter?” His lips curled into a menacing scowl. “Or did ye not realize she was a lass?”
“I realized she was a lass.” Sean’s voice steady. A stern visage.
Her father faced her, his eyes surveying her clothing as if she were covered in manure. “What were ye thinking? I’ve nothing else to give the man but yer virginity.”
She swallowed hard. “The man? The one ye sold me to?”
“Who to hell else would want ye?” Without warning, he yanked her arm and pulled her away from Sean. He made as if to grab her back but her father’s eyes widened in warning. “Dunna be getting involved with something that is none of yer concern.”
Sean relaxed his stance. Like a strong, solid oak tree. Unmovable.
Her father’s face close to hers, she could smell his foul breath. “Answer me. Have ye been spreading yer legs for this one?”
A hysterical laugh echoed in her head. She would not let it out. One long breath steadied her nerves. Her arm hurt from the tight grasp her father had of her. He shook her.
“Do ye hear me? Ye’ve no value at all without yer virginity. Are ye going to tell me what I need to know? Are ye this man’s whore now?” His voice rasped in his anger. “Or are ye still innocent?”
“I have never been innocent with ye as my father.”
The slap was hard against the side of her head. It sent her to the ground. Her ear rang, disorienting her, but she was aware of Sean bending toward her.
“Stand back now.” Her father was giving the orders. “Unless ye’ve wed her—and I dunna see why ye would if she’s giving it away—she’s my responsibility and I’ll see to her as I see fit.”
Sean moved away, his feet shifting behind her.
“She is not giving it away.” Sean’s voice sounded reasonable, even keeled, but she recognized the barely held emotions filling his words. He was ready to erupt. She shook her head to clear it and came to stand beside her father. He was a bastard and she didn’t want Sean to have to deal with him.
“He has not touched me.”
The words squeezed her heart. She lied. He had touched her. Deeply. He had reached down inside and offered her acceptance of who she was. Dressed as a lad or not. It didn’t matter to him. She didn’t have to explain. He made her want something more than the constant ridicule and criticism that was her life.
“Then get on yer horse. Now.” Her father’s tone was final. “Yer betrothed is waiting on ye unless he’s lost all interest.”
Thomasina walked toward the opening to the cave. Her father followed behind and spoke over his shoulder at Sean.
“Dunna be giving me any trouble.” Her father’s ominous words carried to her. “Ye dunna want to ken what I can have done to the likes of ye.”
“The likes of me?” Sean’s voice was tight. He followed them. “And what likes would that be?”
“One hoping to get between Tommy’s legs then leaving her behind.”
“Ye dunna even ken me. How do ye ken I’d be leaving her?”
Her father halted and turned toward Sean. Thomasina stopped as well. Her feet refused to move.
“Why would ye stay?”
She didn’t dare breathe. Her father must hate her.
“She’s a bonny lass. I find her much to my liking.”
“So what are ye offering me for her?”
Her breath caught in her chest. She couldn’t get it out. The bastard. How could her mother have ever loved this man? No wonder she died so young.
“I hear ye found yerself owing the man? Her betrothed?” Sean’s voice was warmer now as if they were just discussing the weather. A quick glance showed her he appeared relaxed. But then he crossed his arms in that we’ll-just-see-about-that pose. “Tell me what the other man offered.”
Her stomach dropped. They were discussing her worth? No. Not Sean. Father rubbed the unkempt gray beard at his chin in his pretense at thoughtfulness. “Well, well. Maybe I need to reconsider my options. Have ye anything of value?”
Sean smiled at him. The kind of smile that isn’t sincere. The kind of smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. The kind of smile that says you’ve outwitted someone. Sean had no idea how wrong he was. God help him.