through the floorboards above. Rowena stared at this small, barren cell in the torchlight and willed herself not to cry.
Sir Robert himself had brought her to it. He said not a word as he removed the cords from her wrists, but he was frowning. When his eyes caught hers as he finished, she was sure he wanted to speak to her. But his lord’s order held his tongue, for he was a man who followed orders down to the smallest detail.
But as he turned to leave, he growled at the man who held the torch. “Leave that and fetch the jailer so he can bring her a pallet and what other necessities are needful.”
She had not realized until the door closed her in that awful cell that she might have been leftin darkness. She was left in silence, however. Her ears strained to hear the parting footsteps, but the sound did not last long. Then there was the sound of rats scurrying across the floor above her.
Chapter 14
Rowena knew she was in trouble when the jailer showed up with only two thin blankets for her to sleep on and a rusty tin of water. He was a heavyset man in his middle years, with scraggly brown hair and watery eyes and a stink about his person that nearly gagged her. He had been surprised at first sight of her, amazed actually, but that did not last more than a moment, and then he did not even try to hide his delight that she was there. He was so pleased, he was close to laughing as he explained the routine he followed and that she would have to abide.
He would feed her only once a day, and she had already missed this day’s meal, so she would have to wait until the next one. And if she wanted better than moldy bread and water, she would have to think of some way to pay him for it. Her fine bliaut might get her some butter andcheese for a fortnight, but after that…She was to relieve herself in the corner of the cell, and he might or might not get one of the stable lads to shovel it out once a week. There would be no water for bathing. He was not a lackey and he refused to haul buckets of water from the well, even though the wellhead was close by. She was to give him no complaints, or he might forget to feed her. If she wanted aught better, including another torch, she would have to pay for it.
Rowena managed to keep the horror from her expression during this recital. She knew what manner of payment he was anticipating. ’Twas there in his eyes, which returned repeatedly to her breasts and hips. She could say now that she would never, ever touch that stinking swine, but how would she feel a month from now? Even a sennight? She had not eaten last eventide, nor this day. Already she felt some weakness along with her hunger pangs. And no torch? Was she to be entombed in darkness permanently, looking eagerly toward this foul man’s visits simply because he would carry a torch with him?
She could not have spoken if she tried, but he was not displeased by her silence. He even gave in to a chuckle, finally, when he left. As soon as the door closed, however, Rowena sat down on the blankets and cried. Her torch would last but a few more hours, and then…She did not mind the dark, truly, but she had never had to endure it without having the means to make light close to hand, and she had never had to endure it in a place like this, with rats nearby.
She was so sunk in misery she did not at firsthear the loud argument coming from the guardroom. But it was a short argument, and the last of it, “Be gone!” she did hear clearly. Moments later, she cringed inwardly as her door was opened again. But ’twas not the jailer who came in with a brace of candles and set them down in the center of the cell. This man was a little older, and his surprise at his first sight of her lasted much longer. But then he looked around at what she had been given, and he swore foully.
“That whoreson, and I will wager he did not feed you either, did he?” Rowena blinked, then shook her head slowly. “Aye, ’tis as I thought, and him bewailing he
Sir Robert himself had brought her to it. He said not a word as he removed the cords from her wrists, but he was frowning. When his eyes caught hers as he finished, she was sure he wanted to speak to her. But his lord’s order held his tongue, for he was a man who followed orders down to the smallest detail.
But as he turned to leave, he growled at the man who held the torch. “Leave that and fetch the jailer so he can bring her a pallet and what other necessities are needful.”
She had not realized until the door closed her in that awful cell that she might have been leftin darkness. She was left in silence, however. Her ears strained to hear the parting footsteps, but the sound did not last long. Then there was the sound of rats scurrying across the floor above her.
Chapter 14
Rowena knew she was in trouble when the jailer showed up with only two thin blankets for her to sleep on and a rusty tin of water. He was a heavyset man in his middle years, with scraggly brown hair and watery eyes and a stink about his person that nearly gagged her. He had been surprised at first sight of her, amazed actually, but that did not last more than a moment, and then he did not even try to hide his delight that she was there. He was so pleased, he was close to laughing as he explained the routine he followed and that she would have to abide.
He would feed her only once a day, and she had already missed this day’s meal, so she would have to wait until the next one. And if she wanted better than moldy bread and water, she would have to think of some way to pay him for it. Her fine bliaut might get her some butter andcheese for a fortnight, but after that…She was to relieve herself in the corner of the cell, and he might or might not get one of the stable lads to shovel it out once a week. There would be no water for bathing. He was not a lackey and he refused to haul buckets of water from the well, even though the wellhead was close by. She was to give him no complaints, or he might forget to feed her. If she wanted aught better, including another torch, she would have to pay for it.
Rowena managed to keep the horror from her expression during this recital. She knew what manner of payment he was anticipating. ’Twas there in his eyes, which returned repeatedly to her breasts and hips. She could say now that she would never, ever touch that stinking swine, but how would she feel a month from now? Even a sennight? She had not eaten last eventide, nor this day. Already she felt some weakness along with her hunger pangs. And no torch? Was she to be entombed in darkness permanently, looking eagerly toward this foul man’s visits simply because he would carry a torch with him?
She could not have spoken if she tried, but he was not displeased by her silence. He even gave in to a chuckle, finally, when he left. As soon as the door closed, however, Rowena sat down on the blankets and cried. Her torch would last but a few more hours, and then…She did not mind the dark, truly, but she had never had to endure it without having the means to make light close to hand, and she had never had to endure it in a place like this, with rats nearby.
She was so sunk in misery she did not at firsthear the loud argument coming from the guardroom. But it was a short argument, and the last of it, “Be gone!” she did hear clearly. Moments later, she cringed inwardly as her door was opened again. But ’twas not the jailer who came in with a brace of candles and set them down in the center of the cell. This man was a little older, and his surprise at his first sight of her lasted much longer. But then he looked around at what she had been given, and he swore foully.
“That whoreson, and I will wager he did not feed you either, did he?” Rowena blinked, then shook her head slowly. “Aye, ’tis as I thought, and him bewailing he
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