Sharon Green - Diana Santee 01, page 18
“Ah, no, my pretty, you must recall the need for silence,” he whispered, grinning well at the fear he was able to see in my eyes..
“Far better that we seek what other treasures lie beneath this cloth.”
His free hand touched my leg, rose upon it beneath the thin skirt, and then I was back again, Bellna gibbering in fear in her favorite corner. Her panic was still racing through me, sapping my strength and reason, and her relinquishment of control was almost too late.
The house guard slid his hand onto my thigh, making my head ring with Bellna’s screams, and I just couldn’t help myself. I had to do something to make him let me go, even if it blew my role straight out of existence. The bastard had my wrists pinned, but that still left me free to raise both legs and kick him in his face and chest. He released my wrists as he went over sideways at the blow, cursing in surprise as he hit the dirty floor. I scrambled to my feet and pulled the wad of cloth out of my mouth, intending to go over him before he could recover, but the man was no lily with a glass jaw. He pulled himself to his feet almost as fast as I had done, blocking me in with his body again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“So, you would strike at me when my attention was elsewhere, eh, slut?” he snarled, well beyond finding the situation as amusing as he had. “Let us see what you may do with my eyes full upon you - and my hands, as well!”
He came for me then with those hands outstretched, ready to close the distance between us in three or four fast steps. Never in my life had I had trouble making decisions, but right then I didn’t know what the hell to do! If I stopped him - which I could do very easily - there would be no accusations of hitting him when he wasn’t looking. He’d know a better fighter had settled his hash, and on that planet fifteen-year-old girls just didn’t do that to trained mercenaries. I had enough control back from Bellna to just stand there and let him do whatever he pleased, but playing patsy was almost guaranteed to do more than protect my role. As mad as he was it would also probably get me good and knocked around, possibly to the point of broken bones. I know I’m better than most, but instant healing isn’t among my store of talents. Even a bad sprain would likely mean the game for me with Clero’s men, but if I put the clown away Clero’s men could hear about it and know something was wrong. Whatever I did would turn out to be the wrong move, and as he closed with me I still couldn’t decide which way to go.
The first slap told me which way I wanted to go, but an open hand isn’t a fist, and I’ve lived through a lot worse. I stumbled sideways with the force of the blow, gasping involuntarily at the ache in my teeth and the pain in my head and shoulder as they hit the wall. The room swung around for a crazy minute, dark shadows and smudges of light mixing together in a swirl, and then there was a ripping sound as the house guard’s hands came together on my blouse then pulled violently apart. The spinning of the room stopped when a big hand closed hard on my breast, deliberately hard, making me grunt with the pain. I was pulled close to the guard’s now-sweating body, his pleasure at hurting me almost thick enough to feel, Bellna’s hysterical screaming tearing at the inside of my head. I fought no harder than Bellna would have to get myself free, but holding back was getting more and more difficult to do. The man pulled my head back by the hair and forced his lips onto mine, smothering the scream he expected when his squeezing fingers closed on the nipple of the breast he held. The fear raced through me, as did my rage, exploding then coalescing, when -
“Get of a scrofulous muck slave!” came a snarl, and the guard was pulled away from me so suddenly that I dropped to the slave rags on the floor. It was Fallan who had pulled the slob off me, and I sat and panted in an effort to reestablish control while the big mercenary did what I’d almost been unable to keep from doing. He’d pulled the guard around to face him, blocked a wild roundhouse aimed at his head, then threw one of his own into the guard’s middle. The guard grunted at the strength of the blow, doubled over, then went to one knee with his arms wrapped around himself. I expected Fallan to finish him off, but he turned to me instead, which was a mistake.
Fallan took no more than a single step before the guard came up with one that started at the floor, trying to unman his opponent with the blow. It would have done a lot of damage if it had landed, but he didn’t know how fast Fallan could move when he wanted to. Fallan jumped back as the house guard brought himself up from the floor with the missed foul, but the mercenary captain had had to move too fast to keep his guard up. The other man was able to shoot a fast, hard left right into his middle, harder than the one he’d taken.
The fact that I was starting to get to my feet showed me that I’d underestimated Fallan as badly as the house guard had. We both expected to see him fold from the punch he’d taken, but it didn’t happen. He grunted to show that the try wasn’t everyone’s imagination, then came back with one of those measured throws from two feet behind him, right into the house guard’s face. The solid, meaty “thwak” sent the house guard straight back and down, to land unconscious even as his hand was starting to reach for his sword. I had time to stare down for a brief moment at the motionless form at my feet and wonder why he hadn’t drawn his sword to begin with, and then Fallan was gently turning me to face him.
“How badly are you hurt?” he asked at once, carefully brushing my hair back so that he could look at my face. “How many times were you struck?”
I tried to answer him, to tell him that I wasn’t hurt, but the Bellna presence had been through too much as well as having just been saved by her idol. I began shuddering with reaction as if I were the one feeling it, and Fallan quickly wrapped his arms around me and held me to him. It was a strange sensation, being held by him like that, feeling Bellna’s delirious joy overlapping her narrow-escape hysterics and realizing that he’d saved me as well as her. Truthfully he’d saved me twice, once from the possibility of being badly hurt by the house guard, and once from defending myself against the attack and thereby blowing my role. Bellna was terribly aware of his broad chest against my cheek, his powerful arms holding me gently, and when I raised my head and looked up into his face, I could feel how desperately she wanted him to kiss me. I felt exactly the same, couldn’t help but feel exactly the same, but at the same time I didn’t want his kiss. None of that assignment was over with, not really, and I couldn’t afford to want to kiss him. As if he were reading the thoughts of the Bellna mind, Fallan’s head began to lower to mine, to take a small part of the victory winnings he’d earned, and that was when I pushed out of his arms.
“I am not hurt badly at all, Captain,” I said with a good deal of tremor left in my voice. “You have my thanks, and will surely have the thanks of my father and my husband-to-be. It would not be presumptuous of you to also expect a reward.”
Considering the way he was looking at me, I couldn’t help stumbling over the word “reward,” and that seemed to amuse him. Laughter touched his eyes very briefly, wiping away the sharpness of desire, and then he took a step backward to give me an up and down.
“I have your permission to expect a reward?” he asked, folding his arms as he stared at me. “I consider that extremely kind of you, wench, yet would know what you believe you may expect.”
“I?” I echoed, wondering what he was talking about. “What might there be which I would expect?”
“A good deal,” he answered, the amusement gone from him. “Were you not told to remain near to me, so that you might be properly protected? Were you not told what would befall you if you were to disobey? Had you not taken yourself off, this would not have happened, nor the possibility of worse, had I not noticed your absence. Are you prepared for the reckoning?”
“Should you wish to see the matter in that light, Captain, there is surely another more deserving of a reckoning with than I.” I came back stiffly, finally remembering to make a stab at pulling the tatters of my blouse back together the way Bellna would have. “When I walked about in the kitchens, I made certain that your attention was with me; had I thought it would wander, as though I were of no consequence, I would certainly not have allowed my curiosity to bring me in here. It seems, then, that my lack of protection is the fault of another rather than mine.”
He stared at me in silence for a minute, the flickering lamplight showing nothing in the way of an expression on his face. Because of that, it was hard to tell what he thought of my counterattack, especially since it was pure hogwash. I didn’t know if he’d realized yet that I was trying to slip the leash, but if he hadn’t, I certainly wasn’t about to tell him.
“So once again is it circumstance rather than yourself who may be given the blame,” Fallan said at last, a slight nod accompanying the observation. “‘I would venture to assume that my reward is soon to be turned to a reprimand, therefore shall I dismiss all thoughts of reward and inform you that no longer will circumstances be held at fault. You, wench, will reap the consequences of your actions, and that as quickly as we have reached our night’s lodgings. Wrap your shawl about yourself so that we may depart.”
“I shall reap nothing of the sort,” I huffed, reaching for the shawl I’d forgotten all about. “Had I remained in my proper position, such an outrageous attack would not have occurred. Need I remind you, Captain, at whose insistence I did not remain in my proper place?”
“All points of the disagreement will be clarified when we have reached our night’s lodgings,” Fallan said, dismissing my arguments by refusing to discuss them. The hard decision in his voice was turning Bellna wide-eyed again, but I refused to believe the man would cut his own throat by beating me. He might decide to lecture me for an hour, but lectures were easy to turn off, especially when you had experience at it, the way I did. It might not be a bad idea to pretend to be browbeaten at the end of the lecture, which could take Fallan’s eyes off me long enough for me to do a fast fade. Even though Clero’s men weren’t in sight yet, I knew I was running out of time. If I didn’t separate myself from Fallan soon, the entire question would become academic.
Fallan took my arm in one of his now familiar firm grips, and began hustling me out of the storeroom. He seemed to have overlooked the fact that I didn’t yet have the shawl tied around me, and his hand on my arm wasn’t helping matters any. The closer we got to the door Out of the storeroom, the more heat I could feel in my cheeks from Bellna’s wailing embarrassment, and the more frantically my hands fought to tie the green wool-like material around me. Back off and let me do it! I ordered the presence in my mind, silently cursing her too-deep sense of modesty and lack of control, but I could feel I wasn’t getting through. My breasts were bouncing with the pace Fallan was forcing on me, and the feel of the rough shawl against my skin was adding to Bellna’s agitation. She was about to be dragged naked in front of peasants, and the humiliation was killing her.
Fallan reached the end of the aisle and turned without even slowing down, taking me with him, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I was tripping over every third thing sticking out of the stacked items to the left of the aisle. His hand on my arm kept me from going down, but my own efforts to stay on my feet and avoid more bruised shins, toes and feet bottoms were destroying Bellna’s fumblings with the shawl. We were back in the kitchen before Bellna-I realized we were being punished after all, and by then it was too late. Every male eye in the room was on me, staring hard as I frantically closed the shawl and held it in place, their eyes taking in the inner burn of embarrassment I was helpless to stop. Fallan finally let go of my arm to look at my face again in the better light, and one of his men came up to him.
“Was the wench harmed, Lieutenant?” the man asked as Fallan put his hand on my face under the chin to keep me from squirming away from him. “What of the one who followed her?”
“The one who followed her is now asleep,” Fallan replied, frowning only slightly at the spot where the house guard’s slap had caught me.
“She will not be much bruised, a fact he may thank as the reason for his continuing to live. I also choose to ignore his having reached for his weapon.”
“In opposition to the codes?” the other man asked, sounding shocked, echoing the sounds of shock from the other mercenaries in the room, including the other house guard. “When not engaged to fight for opposing sides, we are forbidden to draw weapons against one another!”
“Perhaps he was taken by forgetfulness,” Fallan suggested, a dismissal in the tone he used, finally letting my face go. “Go and inform the captain that we shall await the Princess in her carriage, so that we may depart as soon as she has ended her meal.”
“As you say, Ca-Lieutenant,” the man responded, giving me a last glance before turning and heading out of the kitchen. I was still holding the shawl, knowing damned well Bellna would have a fit if I tried tying it in front of all those people. Once it was closed it would cover me more completely, but the process of tying would just about strip me again. Fallan put a hand in my back and pushed me toward one of the two doors leading directly outside, and the rest of our party hurried to join us.
The coach stood waiting for us in the afternoon sunshine, the harnessed vair looking peaceful and satisfied. Fallan made me stand and wait while the other girls climbed in, then put his head in the door after I’d reclaimed my seat on the far side of the coach.
“Should I feel you sufficiently remorseful for your unthinking willfulness, girl, I will obtain a new bodice for you,” he told me, letting his glance slide over the shawl. “Until that time, however, you will cover yourself as best you may with that which you have.
When the new bodice is brought, I will also expect an apology for your past behavior.”
Don’t hold your breath unless you look good in blue, I commented to myself as he closed the door and walked away. I didn’t need his generosity, and especially wouldn’t need it when I managed to take off in my own direction. The man may have helped me out of a tight spot, but he was still a royal pain in the backside.
“Should the Captain see such an expression upon your face, he will punish you to an even greater extent than he now intends,” a whispered voice came, and I looked up to see the brown-haired girl who had told me how unhappy Fallan was with me that morning. “Should you give him the apology he wishes, he will surely be more lenient with you.”
The other two nodded their agreement to the sentiment, all three of them looking extremely uncomfortable, and I didn’t have to wonder why. In my place they would have been punished, and undoubtedly knew what it was like.
“There will be neither apology nor punishment,” I assured them, taking the opportunity to quickly tie the shawl before Bellna could squawk. “Though the beast has forced me to dress as a peasant, never would he dare to treat me as one to so great an extent. I will arrive at my destination as I was at my departing, totally untouched by the beast Fallan.”
“Perhaps, Princess, you are correct,” said one of the others, the oldest of the three, her expression serious. “Perhaps your true station will indeed keep you safe from the Captain’s displeasure. It will be well to hope that this shall be so, for if it is not, there are none to protect you from him. This, above all other things, must be remembered.”
They broke off the conversation then out of respect for the
“princess,” who had finished her meal and was being escorted back to the coach. Considering it just as well, I let it drop, too, working to keep the pity off my face. Those girls really did have no one to protect them from the men around them, and they were trying to make a sheltered young girl aware of the real world, to keep her safer than her ignorance was likely to keep her. It didn’t matter that I didn’t need anyone to protect me; they didn’t know that, and they were trying to help. I damned Fallan for risking their lives so casually, then slumped back and waited for the coach to get moving again.
The only thing more boring than a slow, primitive trip is a monologue by a small town bumpkin on the wonders of big city life, and once we were on the road again we had both. The redhead chattered away about the fantastic meal and service she’d been given, her previous silence disappearing behind the flood of words like shadows in a rainstorm.
The three girls listened with a good deal of interest, but I sent my attention out the window and turned my hearing off, spending my time praying for the attack that should have already come. The redhead hadn’t noticed that her blouse was hanging on me in tatters, so taken was she with her new life. She seemed to have forgotten that her life both new and old could disappear at any time, but I hadn’t. I had decided that I had to force Fallan to let me play princess again, but the one thing I couldn’t decide on was how.
The afternoon disappeared behind one discarded plan after another, and nightfall found me empty of ideas and in a really lousy mood. The woods were dark blobs on either side of the road, a breeze moved in against the warmth of the day, and I was beginning to think about being hungry. I was just wondering how far ahead the next inn was when the coach turned off the road into the trees, making me Sit up with abrupt suspicion. Both of the previous inns we had stopped at had been built right at the side of the road, and there seemed to be no reason for the unannounced side trip.
“A pity we left the last inn too late to reach the next at a comfortable time,” the redhead observed, looking casually out of the window on her side of the coach. “We now must take lodging in a woodsman’s house, a location far inferior to an inn, yet the Captain feels it best that we travel as short a distance as possible in the dark.”
“A woodsman’s house,” mused the girl who was oldest, staring at me through the darkness. “A place with a house, a stable and perhaps a woodshed; My father’s house had no more than a small woodshed, yet that was where my sisters and brothers and I were taken, to be punished. The polished switch stung more greatly there than any other place, and this, I think, is true of all woodsheds.”
