Seduced (11 page)

Raik slapped his hands on the stone opening,
leaned out as far as he could and bellowed. "Cursed Satan's tu...
arse! Get ye back with my horse."

Never had he seen such a troublesome woman.
Nor one so bold she would dare to seize a man's horse. In angry
frustration, he tore his fingers through his hair near pulling
strands out by the roots.

Warin rode close behind Letia, his sword
strapped to his side. Giles followed with a bow and quiver of
arrows. What foolishness was she up to now? A red dotted cloth tied
to the saddle horn. Meat?

Archers lined the barbican walkway, their
stance watchful. 'Twas obvious whatever they were about, the woman
shouldn't be there. Anger at Warin rumbled up in a vicious growl
from his chest. Was the man so weak he had no control over his
foolish wife?

Raik spied the injured beast creeping from
the trees beyond. It seemed more aggressive than the day before.
Its lips curled back from large, menacing teeth. Its nose wrinkled.
Raik couldna hear the sounds, but he knew from the lowered head,
the bunched shoulders, that the black beast snarled, ready to leap
if the humans rode too close.

If Storm had even one scratch on him when
they returned, he would shake the lady till her teeth rattled. He
grunted. But first, he would blacken Warin's eyes.

The creature took a step forward, pushing low
branches away. He howled when they snapped back against his
dragging leg. The baron drew his sword. He raised his left arm in
the air, his hand flat with fingers raised in a signal to the
archers.

Lady Letia rode forward, halving the distance
between herself and the beast. She tossed her offering to the
ground then quickly wheeled Storm as expertly as any warrior would
and thundered away. Raik's eyes narrowed in grudging respect for
her skill.

When the beast made no effort to charge after
her, the baron lowered his arm. Giles kept still, his eyes watching
the beast as the baron and Lady Letia rode back to the drawbridge.
When they reached it, the baron called out to Giles, and he too,
returned.

Why did they not go within the curtain walls?
He ground his teeth, wanting to shout his anger. Storm was unused
to anyone other than Raik on his back. The great horse could have
thrown her to the ground and broken her fool neck! 'Twas an outrage
the baron had allowed anyone to ride another man's mount. That a
woman did so pricked Raik's temper to such fury, he wished his eyes
could burn holes in the back of the woman's sky-blue kirtle.

"I hope I did not put overmuch sleeping
potion in the meat." Letia nibbled on her thumb, watching as the
big head began to droop. The dog shook itself, lifted his black
snout and howled again.

"This dog is the biggest I have ever seen. If
not for his color, I would say he was a large wolf." Warin patted
her arm then gently lowered her hand from her mouth. He eyed Giles
waiting beside them. "Hm. He must weigh near as much as Giles
here."

"Oh, the indignity of it! You compared me to
a wild animal," Giles said, grinning.

"Huh!" Lydia shook her head. "I think it no
insult. That dog must have been wondrous afore being so badly
mistreated."

She looked at Giles then back at the dog, now
sprawled on its side.

"I used near half of what would be needed to
bring you to your sleep, Giles."

Letia's back burned, but not from strain
controlling the huge, light-brown horse. She knew the steed's owner
was most likely frothing at the mouth because she sat upon his
steed. She squared her shoulders as Warin turned and bellowed to
the men waiting beneath the gatehouse.

"Bring the carrier. He sleeps."

They rode back to the animal, but kept their
distance until they studied him. His eyes had closed. His tongue
lolled from his mouth. Loud, raspy breathing kept to a deep, steady
rhythm. Letia nodded, satisfied.

Four men arrived with a carrier used for
injured warriors. One man moved close to the fallen animal when
Letia nodded. He gently nudged the furry shoulder blade with his
boot and jumped back. The dog did not move. The men spread the
carrier on the ground and started to roll the sleeping dog onto
it.

They jumped backward and near fell over
themselves when they disturbed the injured leg and the dog thrashed
about. His strange, yellow eyes opened mere slits; his jaws opened
much wider. Both sides of his mouth were torn. Had someone forced
chains between his jaws too? Then taunted him with food? After he
again settled down, they lifted the four ends of the poles and
carried the beast to the stable.

As she rode past the keep, she tried to keep
her eyes lowered. She could not. Some force willed her to look
upward. The harder she fought it, the stronger was the urge to do
so. She gulped and took one quick glance at the window above. The
Scotsman stood there, his arms crossed.

If fury were a color, a red haze would
surround him. Muscles bulged in his forearms as if he fought the
desire to strike her. One quick glance at his face was near her
undoing.

The force of his stormy blue glare was so
near a physical thing that she fought not to sway in the saddle.
She gritted her teeth, looked straight ahead and continued to the
stable.

A stall, with higher walls and gate than
customary, stood off to itself. Sleeping quarters for the stable
hands divided it from the horse stalls. They carried the beast
there and lowered it to the straw covered floor.

"Remove the poles but do not move him." Letia
waited until the men left the enclosure then motioned to a stalwart
slinger to come to her.

"We need your aid to tie strips of leather
around his front legs and then secure his snout."

The freckles across the red-haired warrior's
nose looked darker than usual. He hesitated, then clamped his jaws
together and swallowed before kneeling. Warin held the dog's head
up as the man did as she bid.

When he was done, Letia worked fast, not
wanting the beast to awaken before she was through. It took longer
than she had expected, though. Warin aided her when he could. 'Twas
his decision to leave the chain around the dog's neck for now. The
skin was too raw to take a chance for the blacksmith to cut it
free. She coated the black neck with salves that would at least
start the skin to healing then concentrated on the rest of its
injuries.

"Julian's men must have secured the dog's
chains to a post." Warin shook his head in sympathy. "No doubt they
tormented the helpless beast with swords or spears."

"Aye. At least his smaller wounds are clean."
She carefully treated each one. "Ugh. I hate maggots." She
swallowed and steeled herself. "Much as I dislike them, 'tis a good
thing they have eaten away the dead flesh."

She shuddered as she cleaned the maggots and
bits of dirt and leaves from the yawning wound on the animals
flesh. Earlier, she had boiled water and steeped herbs in it, which
she used to flush the wounds clean. Starting at his back and around
to his groin, she stitched the flesh together.

Warin kept a steady hand on the big, black
head as she worked. It took as many stitches as she had sewn on the
Scot's shoulder. Much less fancy, though. This flesh required
speed, not delicate mending.

"You must hurry. He begins to awake," Warin
warned.

She hurriedly coated her work with healing
salves and settled back on her haunches. She could do no more.

Letia talked and rubbed the black head all
the while Warin and Giles untied the leather straps holding
him.

"Were you Freki, Woden's wolf, and not an
earthly hound, his ravens would have warned him you required aid."
Letia shook her head at the silliness of her words. "I shall call
you Freki. Such great size deserves a great name."

As if he sensed her words, he took a deep
breath then opened yellow eyes to blink sleepily at her.

Giles set a large wooden bowl filled with
water within the dog's reach and placed scraps the servants had
collected from the evening meal beside it. Warin helped her to rise
and they hurried from the stall. Piers swung the tall gate closed
and latched it. Fearing it would not be enough should the beast
become enraged, he placed a heavy board in the braces at either
side of the gate. They used it to keep unruly destrier's from
kicking it open, so surely it would contain the beast.

o0o

Raik paced his chamber. Hearing someone
approach, he stormed over to the door, his muscles tensing. When it
opened, he expected Lady Letia coming to check his wounds. Instead,
Maud appeared, walking with a crisp, no-foolishness manner.

"Where is yer lady?" His arms, folded across
his chest, twitched as he strained to appear relaxed and keep them
clasped there.

"Do you think Lady Letia has naught else to
do but care for your ills?"

"Ha! I know too well your lady spends her
time doing things that rightly only a man should." He lost his
fight with his arms as he threw up his hands in disgusted
irritation.

"Sit." She pointed to the chair with a
demanding finger. "If you go about waving your arms enough to
create a wind, you'll ruin the lady's fine stitching."

He sat.

His forced his face to relax and softened his
tone. "Once ye are done, I must have words with Baron de
Burgh."

"The baron has retired. Leofwan is outside if
ye require man talk."

"I dinna want Leofwan and I dinna want man
talk!"

Maud rolled her eyes at him and frowned.

"Shush!"

Raik's eyes widened. She shushed him like he
was a Halfling! Not since he was a boy half grown had anyone dared
to do so. To his surprise, he pressed his lips together and stifled
an angry retort.

He tried to make eye contact with her when
she questioned him about his wound.

"Does this pain you?" She softly prodded the
swollen flesh on either side of the stitches.

He held his answer so she would look up at
him to see why. He would hold her gaze when she did.

She didn't. She shrugged and kept her eyes on
her hands as she changed his dressing and bandaged his shoulder.
Huh? Had she heard tales about him? She stood and gathered her
things.

"'Tis good you are saving your words. Likely
your throat hurts from screaming and throwing a fit like Thomas
when he dropped his sweet tart in mud this noon," she said.

On her way out the door, she muttered about
men having the temper of unruly boys.

Raik's face heated. After the noon meal, he
had watched the children jumping in and out of puddles. One small
boy, holding a pasty in his fist, fell on his arse. The tart flew
out of his hand and landed in the mud. The lad threw himself on his
back, kicking and screaming, splattering the other children who had
circled around him to watch the display.

Raik ground his teeth together.

No doubt, that had been Thomas.

In her solar, Letia rested her neck against a
drying cloth folded on the back edge of the wooden bathing tub.
Maud had placed it there so she could brush Letia's hair afore
washing it. She was more tired than usual this eve. She had no need
to think on why. The hot water relaxed sore muscles that made her
flush with shame on knowing why they ached.

These last two nights with Raik were more
reason than riding his great horse astride. Storm was much like his
master. Headstrong and determined against a woman's control. She
had ridden him before in the far pasture where Raik could not see
them from his window.

No doubt, if he had witnessed the time and
struggle it had taken her to gain control over the horse, he would
have leaped from the window and throttled her with his big
hands.

Well, Hades. Why did she have to go and think
of Raik's hands? To look at them, one expected they would be hard.
Cruel. Not so when they caressed her shoulders, her breasts. Not
even when he held her hips, forcing her to keep to a slow rhythm
last eve when she fought him to gain her release.

She blinked, hard, squeezing her eyes tight
to keep from picturing it. Was it the heat of the water or her
thoughts that made her pulsate below?

"Why do you groan, lovey? Did you cause
yourself an injury when tending that devil dog?" Maud's hands
stilled the brush crafted from oak and boar's bristles.

"Nay. I do not believe so. 'Tis more from
fighting that great horse."

"Hm. I worried that the baron was wrong to
suggest it. The Scot roared and cursed like one demented. I feared
he would throw chairs about in his anger."

"If anger has substance, I felt its fury when
he watched from the window opening." She shuddered and rubbed her
arms. "If he were below, he would have yanked me by my hair till I
toppled from his horse."

"Um. I do not doubt it."

"The baron's reasoning was sound. My own
mount would never have trotted calmly up to the beast. She would
have wheeled and galloped back across the bridge."

Letia picked up the wet cloth, wrung out the
water and spread it across her closed eyes. The movement slipped
her lower in the water, so she pushed with her heels to return her
to the tub's edge.

"Never could I have turned my mare so
swiftly. And Storm lengthened into a gallop with little urging."
Letia sighed. "I am thinking mayhap I should have Warin select a
gelding for me."

"A wise choice." Maud patted her head. "Slide
down and wet this mass of hair so I may wash it. If we do not
hurry, you will go dripping to..."

Letia dunked her head back in the water and
heard only garbled sounds. Water surged in the tub when she pushed
back up.

"Sorry. Did I wet you?" She glanced over her
shoulder at Maud, who shook her head.

They were finished with her bath all too soon
for Letia. Her stomach twisted. She felt so odd about tonight.