The Knight’s Forbidden Princess. Carol Townend

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СКАЧАТЬ me, Doctor!’

      In the general melee, Rodrigo got to the man first, practically dragging him to where Inigo lay stretched out on some sacking by the wall. Other captives crowded close, some were curious, others clamoured for the doctor’s attention.

      The doctor scowled and waved the crowd back. ‘Be silent,’ he said. ‘Give us space to breathe. I will see to the rest of you shortly.’

      The hubbub faded.

      The doctor crouched down at Inigo’s side and touched his forehead. ‘How’s his fever? Did it abate after he drank that infusion?’

      Rodrigo shook his head. ‘He’s been hot as a furnace all night.’

      The doctor gave him a sharp look. ‘He’s not spoken? Has he roused at all?’

      ‘No, I had to force the drink down his throat. I’d be grateful if you would take another look at his leg.’

      The doctor sat back on his haunches. ‘I stitched it most carefully. And that poultice is best left alone.’

      ‘I would prefer if you checked it, and I’d like him to have fresh bandages.’ Rodrigo spoke firmly, he’d seen a man lose a leg through neglecting to care for a wound and he wasn’t going to allow that to happen to Inigo. There would be no more deaths, not if he could help it.

      A wave of grief swept through him. Diego. News of his brother’s death would kill his mother; had it reached her already? Rodrigo had bribed one of the Sultan’s officers to send his brother’s body home. Was the officer honourable? Would he do as he was asked? Rodrigo had no way of knowing.

      ‘Very well.’ The doctor held his hand out, palm up. ‘For another examination and fresh bandages, I need further payment.’

      ‘You want more? Good God, I’ve already given you my gold signet ring.’

      The doctor gave a regretful smile and glanced pointedly at the other prisoners struggling to catch his eye. A trooper was doing his best to ensure they waited their turn, but it was clear he was fighting a losing battle.

      The doctor spread his hands. ‘It’s hard to perform miracles, my lord. This is not the healthiest of places. In my view, your friend needs more infusions to bring down his fever. That will cost you.’ He stood up and prepared to move away. ‘So, unless you can pay, there are others who require my services.’

      Rodrigo and his friends had no coin, their purses had been taken the moment they’d been captured. They’d only been allowed to keep their rings as proof of their identity and status. Rodrigo’s gaze landed on Inigo’s signet ring. Like the ring Rodrigo had given the doctor the previous day, Inigo’s was pure gold. Rodrigo had balked at taking it whilst Inigo was unconscious, which was why he’d given the doctor his own ring. Now, it would seem he had no choice.

      Reluctantly, he reached for Inigo’s ring.

      ‘That will not be necessary,’ a gentle voice said.

      A small hand reached out and a jewel-encrusted bangle was pressed into his palm. The scent of orange blossom, as refreshing as a breath of spring air, surrounded him.

      Rodrigo’s jaw dropped. A woman? Here? He scrambled to his feet and found himself staring at a mysterious, feminine figure. She was swathed in black from head to toe. Everything was hidden, even her eyes were lost behind a full veil. Clearly, she’d been there long enough to overhear his conversation with the doctor.

      ‘The doctor will accept this as payment for treating your friend,’ she insisted, in a soft, faintly accented voice.

      This mystery lady spoke Spanish? Rodrigo was gazing bemusedly at her when the doctor whisked the bangle from his palm and hunched over Inigo.

      ‘Sir, I am charged to question you.’ That small hand emerged briefly from within the folds of the woman’s all-encompassing gown. She beckoned at a guard who was standing so close he had to be her personal escort, then she and her escort headed for the door.

      Two soldiers appeared and Rodrigo was marched out into the corridor.

       Chapter Three

      Leonor’s pulse was racing. She could hardly believe what she’d done. She, a Nasrid princess, was alone in a cramped prison cell with four men. Alone and unchaperoned.

      Her hopes had risen when she’d realised the Spanish knight had parted with his own ring to pay for help for his injured companion. He might be her father’s enemy, but he was obviously loyal to his comrades. With luck, he’d be grateful about the bangle and would be forthcoming when she asked him about her mother.

      Folding her hands tightly beneath the maidservant’s veil, she turned to Yusuf and switched to Arabic. ‘Be so good as to take the other guards outside. Wait for me there, I shall call you when I need you.’

      Yusuf hesitated and for a dreadful moment Leonor’s skin chilled. If Yusuf refused to leave her, she would achieve nothing. She wouldn’t be able to question the knight about her mother within Yusuf’s hearing, for if Yusuf understood that she was asking about the Sultan’s dead Queen and her family, he’d be bound to tell his commanding officer. Then word would soon get back to her father. And that letter in her jewel box wouldn’t help her; she’d been deluding herself to think it would.

      But it was too late for second thoughts. The die was cast and it was imperative that Yusuf leave her alone with this knight.

      Yusuf eyed the knight’s chained wrists before giving a curt nod. ‘As you wish.’

      ‘My thanks.’ Leonor let out a sigh of relief and Yusuf marched out with the other guards.

      The knight shifted. ‘If you want any sense out of me, you will need to speak Spanish.’

      ‘That is not a problem, sir.’

      Dark eyes looked her over so thoroughly Leonor felt herself flush from head to toe. She was thankful for the heavy veil.

      ‘I assume you gave me that bauble because you need my help in some way,’ he said.

      ‘You are astute, sir.’

      ‘No serving wench would have such things to give away. May I know to whom I am addressing?’

      ‘I... No.’

      He gave her a curt nod. ‘Very well. Lest you are curious, I am commander of the King’s garrison in Córdoba. Rodrigo Álvarez, Count of Córdoba, at your service.’

      It was a good sign that he had told her his name and Leonor felt herself relax a little. She even took a step closer. Rodrigo Álvarez.

      His hair was disordered and in need of a wash. Light from a narrow window fell directly on his face, allowing her to see the hollows under his eyes and a haze of dark beard. His eyes were almost black and fringed with thick eyelashes; his gaze was intent and focused entirely on her. His tunic was torn and dirty, and his wrists rubbed raw—they’d been chafed by his chains. His mouth edged up at a corner—it was a smile, yet at the same time, it was very definitely not a smile. Beneath it, she sensed СКАЧАТЬ