His Captive Lady by Carol Townend

Author:Carol Townend
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-05-04T21:00:00+00:00

Erica's thoughts were in chaos. She had scarcely heard a word that Wulf--that Captain FitzRobert--had said to her; the only thing she could hear was the blood pounding in her ears.

They had bound Morcar and Osred and were making them walk behind her, that much she did know. Her own hands remained free. Wulf's grip on her arm had not slackened and this, Erica was ashamed to discover, relieved as much as angered her. Nor had he permitted that other Norman, that sergeant, to paw over her father's arm-rings.

Vaguely, she noticed that the garrison stockade was in good repair, wood, but solid, very solid. The teeth on the portcullis were filed to sharp points. How easy, she wondered, would it be to fire it?

Erica wanted to notice everything, but her mind would not obey. When she walked into the yard, her whole body jerked. The place swarmed with soldiers in chainmail, with archers. Aliens. Invaders. Normans, like the man at her side. How had she ever thought him Saxon?

Dogs barked; men shouted; steel clanged; and the acrid smell of burnt horn wrinkled Erica's nostrils--a horse was being shod nearby. Several archery butts were being stacked in a cart. Preparations were underway, it seemed. For what? Her heart jumped about in her breast.

Around the yard there were a number of wooden buildings, another of stone, and there, yes, that must be the stable. Horses were being groomed in the winter sunlight. They were huge beasts with chests that were broader than the chests of the oxen that used to plough the peasants' strips by the river in Lewes. Destriers, they called them, warhorses. Terrifyingly huge. Bits jingled, harnesses flashed. And--her breath caught--soldiers, more mailed foot-soldiers. At sea in the midst of so many Normans, Erica shot a look at Wulf...no, at Captain FitzRobert, and struggled to keep the loathing from her face.

'This way, my lady.' He directed her towards the largest of the wooden buildings. It had a double doorway, oak, that was flung wide like a giant mouth. It had huge iron hinges and two sentries guarding the entrance. Erica did not want to go in and she clenched her fists as a chilling thought came to her. Once inside, she would never leave, this hall was a monster, a Norman war monster, and it was about to devour her.

Boot on the threshold, Wulf paused to signal at the troopers who had Morcar and Osred under escort. He gave a swift command in Norman French. With a salute, the troopers bore her men towards the stone building.

Unnerving as it was to hear Wulf speaking French with such fluency, Erica managed, briefly, to marshal her thoughts. 'Where are they going?' Uncurling her fingers, she clutched at his arm. 'What did you tell those soldiers to do to them?'

A broad hand came to rest on hers. In another world, in another time, she might have interpreted the gesture as comforting. 'Do not fear, they will be safe.'

She craned her neck as Morcar and Osred disappeared through a shadowy archway.

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