Sinful Passions by Anna Markland

Author:Anna Markland [Markland, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Bleubelle Press
Published: 2014-05-04T14:00:00+00:00

Swan stared into her empty soup bowl. “What’s taking him so long?”

Grace looked anxiously towards the door, chewing on her lower lip. “I have a bad feeling.”

On the one hand, Rodrick was tempted to tell them they worried too much, but on the other, Bronson had been gone overlong. He came to his feet. “I’ll go out and hurry him along. He’s probably required a demonstration of their talents.”

He retrieved his cloak from his chamber and left the house. The cold stole away his breath. He drew the cloak up to cover his ears and mouth and set off at a brisk walk to the stables. There was no sign of Bendik and Becca. They must have gone with Bronson.

The door to the stables was closed—strange. He shoved hard, but it refused to budge. An uneasy feeling crept into his gut. If the troupe was demonstrating Morris Dancing they were doing it silently.

He reached without thinking for the dagger he’d left in the house. He decided to check the rear of the stables, or mayhap for some strange reason Bronson had taken the entertainers to the men’s barracks near the rampart. Accommodations would be warmer there. Or perhaps they were in the church, peculiar as the possibility seemed.

Edging cautiously along the back wall of the stable, he put his right eye to a crack between two planks. Nothing—only horses. He went a few paces further and bent his knees to peer through another small space where the moss chinking had fallen away. The breath left his already beleaguered lungs. A man lay face down in a pool of blood—a man with unmistakable red hair. “What the devil?”

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled around, vaguely aware of a giant standing behind him. A mailed fist connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling backwards, his head smashing into the wooden wall. The sky was suddenly where the earth should be.

Why would a mummer be wearing armor?

He attempted to get up but a booted foot pressed on his chest as the fist landed on his nose. He choked on blood, pain lancing into his head.

“Leave him, Titus. He’ll soon freeze to death out here.”

He sank into blackness, thinking the sneering voice was somehow familiar.

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