man’s feet and had him on his back. He was about to punch him on the ground, when the big oaf kicked the back of Valc’s head.
He rolled across the floor and retrieved the man’s discarded spear. The soldier ran at him and Valc held the weapon steady as his enemy’s momentum carried him forward and impaled him on the spear with a low sucking sound.
Valc didn’t move and the soldier’s big, dark eyes went wide, then empty. Hoisting the man to the side, Valc twisted and let the soldier’s weight drop him to the floor.
Valc jumped to his feet and stuck his head out the door, looking for Brother Auden. He needed help with the body. His enemy’s body—would have killed him if he hadn’t acted. It was understandable.
The monk was still hidden in the shadow of the gilded purple tapestry that hung on the wall just outside the door. Valc waved him over.
“They’re headed for the river,” he whispered.
The monk peered into the room and then followed Valc inside. He didn’t balk at the body and stepped right over the fallen guard.
Valc bent over and took the soldier’s heavy hands. “Help me with this.”
“Leave him,” Auden said. “There’s nowhere to take him.”
“How did you know to come out of hiding?”
“I saw one of the lords pass this way.”
Valc dropped the soldier’s arms. “He didn’t get what he came for, so I suppose there would be no harm in the world seeing him leave.”
“This is why we have been working to end the trade that happens in this room.” The bitter note in Auden’s voice revealed his rancor. “The meetings are now more frequent and they are being more obvious. No one will stop them.”
Valc put his hand on the monk’s strong shoulder. “You will stop them.”
Auden offered a sympathetic, but sad smile. “One man cannot right all wrongs, brother.”
Valc opened the river door carefully, one hand on his dagger in case there were enemies on the other side. But it was only a dank, dark hallway, free of sound or soul. “The only wrong I need to right at the moment is to cut out the heart of the man who just bought my wife.”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
Valc whirled on the monk, but Auden’s smile was more playful.
“Let’s find her first,” the monk added.
Valc went through the door, keeping a hand on his weapon, and scanned the dark corners of the hall for any enemy. He wouldn’t give up Cadha without a fight, and he wouldn’t let the evil man who took her slip into the night without punishment.
Mercy wasn’t in his blood.
Chapter Twelve
Cadha wound the loose end of the cord around her hand and checked to see if it pulled tight when she spread her wrists. It did.
Her gloves had been removed and the lesions on her skin were raw and bleeding. Whatever salve the French-speaking woman had put on her aching wrists had been rubbed off by the gloves and the rough treatment.
They moved down a narrow passage that smelled of standing water and sulfur. It seemed there were two people with her, because one had held her arms and the other walked ahead.
She attempted to make her footfalls light so she could tell if someone else walked with them, but she heard no one. Only the man in front of her and the man beside her.
They walked at an incline, as though down a hill, but from the echo of their steps, Cadha felt they were still inside. For a time, the ground was solid beneath her. Then they came to steps, and the passage seemed to narrow even further.
Her feet were still unfettered. She took her steps carefully, letting the man in front get a bit ahead. The one holding her arm tried to force her to pick up the pace, but she resisted. None of them spoke, and only their unenthusiastic grunts echoed against the walls.
Perhaps they did not feel her worthy of hearing their voices. Or perhaps they preferred not to acknowledge each other on this dastardly journey they were about to take.
They had just bought her, like a prize pig, and the
He rolled across the floor and retrieved the man’s discarded spear. The soldier ran at him and Valc held the weapon steady as his enemy’s momentum carried him forward and impaled him on the spear with a low sucking sound.
Valc didn’t move and the soldier’s big, dark eyes went wide, then empty. Hoisting the man to the side, Valc twisted and let the soldier’s weight drop him to the floor.
Valc jumped to his feet and stuck his head out the door, looking for Brother Auden. He needed help with the body. His enemy’s body—would have killed him if he hadn’t acted. It was understandable.
The monk was still hidden in the shadow of the gilded purple tapestry that hung on the wall just outside the door. Valc waved him over.
“They’re headed for the river,” he whispered.
The monk peered into the room and then followed Valc inside. He didn’t balk at the body and stepped right over the fallen guard.
Valc bent over and took the soldier’s heavy hands. “Help me with this.”
“Leave him,” Auden said. “There’s nowhere to take him.”
“How did you know to come out of hiding?”
“I saw one of the lords pass this way.”
Valc dropped the soldier’s arms. “He didn’t get what he came for, so I suppose there would be no harm in the world seeing him leave.”
“This is why we have been working to end the trade that happens in this room.” The bitter note in Auden’s voice revealed his rancor. “The meetings are now more frequent and they are being more obvious. No one will stop them.”
Valc put his hand on the monk’s strong shoulder. “You will stop them.”
Auden offered a sympathetic, but sad smile. “One man cannot right all wrongs, brother.”
Valc opened the river door carefully, one hand on his dagger in case there were enemies on the other side. But it was only a dank, dark hallway, free of sound or soul. “The only wrong I need to right at the moment is to cut out the heart of the man who just bought my wife.”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
Valc whirled on the monk, but Auden’s smile was more playful.
“Let’s find her first,” the monk added.
Valc went through the door, keeping a hand on his weapon, and scanned the dark corners of the hall for any enemy. He wouldn’t give up Cadha without a fight, and he wouldn’t let the evil man who took her slip into the night without punishment.
Mercy wasn’t in his blood.
Chapter Twelve
Cadha wound the loose end of the cord around her hand and checked to see if it pulled tight when she spread her wrists. It did.
Her gloves had been removed and the lesions on her skin were raw and bleeding. Whatever salve the French-speaking woman had put on her aching wrists had been rubbed off by the gloves and the rough treatment.
They moved down a narrow passage that smelled of standing water and sulfur. It seemed there were two people with her, because one had held her arms and the other walked ahead.
She attempted to make her footfalls light so she could tell if someone else walked with them, but she heard no one. Only the man in front of her and the man beside her.
They walked at an incline, as though down a hill, but from the echo of their steps, Cadha felt they were still inside. For a time, the ground was solid beneath her. Then they came to steps, and the passage seemed to narrow even further.
Her feet were still unfettered. She took her steps carefully, letting the man in front get a bit ahead. The one holding her arm tried to force her to pick up the pace, but she resisted. None of them spoke, and only their unenthusiastic grunts echoed against the walls.
Perhaps they did not feel her worthy of hearing their voices. Or perhaps they preferred not to acknowledge each other on this dastardly journey they were about to take.
They had just bought her, like a prize pig, and the
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