He grabbed up her skirt, exposing her buttocks. She still struggled, but futilely.
The man she had kicked laughed. “God, now that's a sight. Give it to her good so's she learns her lesson.”
The sharp sting of a strap landed on her buttocks. She clenched her teeth and her mind went black with rage. She tried to heave up the chest pressing into her back. They all laughed. The tip of the strap tickled at her skin, taunting her, then seconds later it struck again.
“Hell, it's making me hard as rock just watching,” her captor groaned. “More.”
She braced herself. She would kill them, kill them , even if it took her whole life to do it.
Suddenly he groaned again. More a garbled cry, actually. Weight collapsed on her back. Yelling and shouts and furious activity crashed all around her. She pushed up against his stomach and chest. When that didn't work she rolled her body until he slid off.
A chaos of violence assaulted her. Swords flashed and rang and pain-curdled cries echoed. At first it appeared that ten men fought in the clearing, but her befuddled mind slowly realized it was only three and then only two. She glanced down at the head lolling over the tree trunk. Blood dripped from its neck into a puddle in which she sat.
Abruptly a horrible silence fell. She stared wide-eyed at the carnage filling the clearing, unable to absorb it coherently. Blood everywhere, bright and garish, like gaping wounds on nature's bounty, flashed into her senses. With the danger past she succumbed to the terror and began shaking from a cold that arose from her core.
Strong arms lifted her up, crushing her face against a broad chest while the trees sped by. Then she was cradled on hard thighs near the ground, encased in human warmth and flooded with sunlight that began to banish the cold and calm her trembling.
Her senses slowly righted themselves and she found herself staring at a little amber crystal with a bug trappedinside. She lifted her head to a stony profile with a pale scar slicing from hairline to jaw. “What took you so long?” she mumbled.
He turned his eyes on her. Small quakes still shook her, but her gaze seemed to be clearing. Blood streaked her gown but he could not tell if it came from her. Her veil and wimple hung limply from behind one ear and her hair was half-unbound. “I decided to let them whip you to save myself the trouble later.”
She pursed her lips. He had hoped for a more spirited reaction that might indicate whipping was all they had done.
“How did you …? ”
“I saw the cart left on the road and became curious.”
“But the road was empty all the way east.”
“I came from the west, around the bend.”
Her brow puckered. “Not heading to Darwendon, but away from it?”
She still looked dazed and shocked. He rested his palm against her cheek. Still too cool, but warmth was flowing back. She seemed oblivious to the gesture, so he let it lie there a bit longer than necessary. “I must go elsewhere before I return to Darwendon.”
He had almost ridden past that cart until the household goods had caught his eye. And then the baskets. Exceptional baskets, as Raymond had described hers. Not really believing she would be either so stupid or so bold as to run away by herself as soon as his back was turned, he had let curiosity lead him to the sounds in the trees.
He had known it was she even though he could see nothing but creamy buttocks and naked legs. Had just known it, and gone berserk. He had let them whip her again while he moved to a better position for first killing the one who held her. He remembered little of the rest. The rage still boiled in his head and in truth he hadn'tbeen in much better shape than she when he carried her away.
She suddenly realized that she sat in his arms and pushed herself onto the ground. She grimaced when her bottom landed, and then rocked forward with an arm over her stomach.
“They asked about you,” she muttered. “Maybe they were waiting for
The man she had kicked laughed. “God, now that's a sight. Give it to her good so's she learns her lesson.”
The sharp sting of a strap landed on her buttocks. She clenched her teeth and her mind went black with rage. She tried to heave up the chest pressing into her back. They all laughed. The tip of the strap tickled at her skin, taunting her, then seconds later it struck again.
“Hell, it's making me hard as rock just watching,” her captor groaned. “More.”
She braced herself. She would kill them, kill them , even if it took her whole life to do it.
Suddenly he groaned again. More a garbled cry, actually. Weight collapsed on her back. Yelling and shouts and furious activity crashed all around her. She pushed up against his stomach and chest. When that didn't work she rolled her body until he slid off.
A chaos of violence assaulted her. Swords flashed and rang and pain-curdled cries echoed. At first it appeared that ten men fought in the clearing, but her befuddled mind slowly realized it was only three and then only two. She glanced down at the head lolling over the tree trunk. Blood dripped from its neck into a puddle in which she sat.
Abruptly a horrible silence fell. She stared wide-eyed at the carnage filling the clearing, unable to absorb it coherently. Blood everywhere, bright and garish, like gaping wounds on nature's bounty, flashed into her senses. With the danger past she succumbed to the terror and began shaking from a cold that arose from her core.
Strong arms lifted her up, crushing her face against a broad chest while the trees sped by. Then she was cradled on hard thighs near the ground, encased in human warmth and flooded with sunlight that began to banish the cold and calm her trembling.
Her senses slowly righted themselves and she found herself staring at a little amber crystal with a bug trappedinside. She lifted her head to a stony profile with a pale scar slicing from hairline to jaw. “What took you so long?” she mumbled.
He turned his eyes on her. Small quakes still shook her, but her gaze seemed to be clearing. Blood streaked her gown but he could not tell if it came from her. Her veil and wimple hung limply from behind one ear and her hair was half-unbound. “I decided to let them whip you to save myself the trouble later.”
She pursed her lips. He had hoped for a more spirited reaction that might indicate whipping was all they had done.
“How did you …? ”
“I saw the cart left on the road and became curious.”
“But the road was empty all the way east.”
“I came from the west, around the bend.”
Her brow puckered. “Not heading to Darwendon, but away from it?”
She still looked dazed and shocked. He rested his palm against her cheek. Still too cool, but warmth was flowing back. She seemed oblivious to the gesture, so he let it lie there a bit longer than necessary. “I must go elsewhere before I return to Darwendon.”
He had almost ridden past that cart until the household goods had caught his eye. And then the baskets. Exceptional baskets, as Raymond had described hers. Not really believing she would be either so stupid or so bold as to run away by herself as soon as his back was turned, he had let curiosity lead him to the sounds in the trees.
He had known it was she even though he could see nothing but creamy buttocks and naked legs. Had just known it, and gone berserk. He had let them whip her again while he moved to a better position for first killing the one who held her. He remembered little of the rest. The rage still boiled in his head and in truth he hadn'tbeen in much better shape than she when he carried her away.
She suddenly realized that she sat in his arms and pushed herself onto the ground. She grimaced when her bottom landed, and then rocked forward with an arm over her stomach.
“They asked about you,” she muttered. “Maybe they were waiting for
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