Dragon Tree by Canham Marsha

Author:Canham, Marsha
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: romance, adventure, medieval england, crusades, templar knights, king richard, medieval romance
Publisher: Marsha Canham

CHAPTER TWELVE

Despite a fierce resolve—bolstered by two cups of strong ale—Amaranth experienced several harrowing moments through the long, seemingly endless, afternoon and evening. The first came the instant she set foot inside the gloomy vault of the great hall. She was certain all eyes in the room would turn to stare at her as she followed Roland down the stairs and along the length of the room. A step, two at the most, and she expected to hear the shout that would bring her husband raging toward her, his hand on the hilt of his sword, the promise of all black things in hell gleaming in his eyes.

Not one single glance was squandered in her direction, however. At intervals as they walked toward the rear screen, Roland pretended to cuff her, as if she had been caught shirking her duties. But true to Marak’s prediction, no one gave a thought to a scruffy, ill smelling stable boy. Even the trio of rotund women who were skewering hens and setting them to roast over the cooking fires did little more than point at the nearest spit that wanted turning. A word from Roland, whispered in their ears, had them placing Amie where the smoke was thickest and the duties kept her head down.

From her vantage point at the rear of the hall she had a clear view of the dais. Odo’s bright red hair made him stand out on the brightly lit platform. He was eating, drinking, talking, laughing with Lord Tamberlane who, by contrast, sat quiet for the most part, his smiles as scarce as snow in summer. Odo’s brother Rolf sat on his right and picked at morsels of food with the point of his eating knife, trying to make it appear casual as he studied the faces of everyone in the hall.

Amaranth kept her head bowed whenever Rolf’s dark eyes roved the room. Odo was a brute with his contempt and his fists, but Rolf was sly, cunning, and dangerous. He had followed her into the gardens one day at Belmane and, with his men standing guard, had attempted to rape her. Whether by design or happenstance, Odo had come searching for her and found them twisted together on the ground, her skirts above her waist, Rolf's cock poised to plunge between her thighs.

Rolf had neatly twisted the story to make it sound as if she had instigated the tryst and nothing Amie said or did could convince Odo otherwise. It gave him free rein to treat her like a whore, to justify his beatings, his rants, his disgusting demands.

Rolf, free of all blame, continued to watch her like a big lethal cat, his gaze promising to finish what he started.

Like his brother, Rolf had the instincts of a fox and would not hesitate to act upon them if he felt something was amiss.

The rest of the men who had accompanied Odo de Langois into the keep, including Sigurd the Oaf, sat above the salt but still much closer to where Amaranth worked over the spit than was comfortable.

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