The Dead Don't Wai by Michael Jecks

Author:Michael Jecks [Jecks, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781780291208
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2019-09-01T16:00:00+00:00

FIVE

Early the next morning I woke to the sound of pigeons and sparrows making merry, and glanced down at Cat’s firm, pale body beside me. I can say, I think without exaggeration, that I had satisfied her in the hours of darkness. She had no reason to complain of my stamina. I rose, pulled on my hose and a shirt, and made my way down the stairs, calling to Raphe for some attention. When I reached my parlour, there was a knock at the door. The dog was curled into a small ball beside the fire at the foot of the ladder that led to Raphe’s small chamber behind the chimney. The brute opened one eye, clearly decided I could do my own guarding and closed it again.

Thinking that Sir Richard had returned, wishing for a discussion about the miller and where he could have hidden, I went to the door and opened it.

A fist struck my belly, and the sudden pain made me curl into a ball. A hand grabbed my shirt, and I heard threads snap as I was hauled from the house bodily, whirled around in the air and slammed against the outer wall.

All the air was driven from my lungs. The brick and wood of the wall was painful enough, but the violence of the attack had knocked my skull against a prominent stone, and I was stunned. Stars flew about me, and I had to blink to try to clear my vision. All I knew was that I was pinned as effectively as a man with an arrow through his chest. Desperately trying to get a breath, I wheezed and coughed, and at last, when my eyes could focus once more, I goggled. It was Cat’s man Henry.

But this was not the Henry I was used to. This was a fierce young man with molten iron in his veins. He was, in short, terrifying. I could quite understand how Cat would be afraid of him.

‘Where is she?’ he roared.

‘In my house,’ I said. ‘Upstairs, I—’

‘You have been ravishing her, haven’t you? You put your foul hands on her pure skin! You’ve been swiving her in your bed, haven’t you? I could gut you now for that!’

‘I … What do you want of me?’ I said, trying to keep my voice low. One does not want the neighbours to enjoy such discussions so early.

‘She is mine, you understand me? Mine! And I won’t have her trifled with by a half-arsed merchant, or whatever you are!’

I did consider mentioning that I was an assassin, but felt the time was not perfect.

‘What did you do to her?’

‘Me? I – um—’

‘Never again, you understand? You will never do this with her again. Is that clear?’

‘I – well, I suppose—’

‘You’re pathetic!’ he said, which I thought was a bit rich from a man who had stood outside my door all night because he wanted to see what had happened to his associate.

‘Well, look,’ I said, and then I whimpered. There

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