Chained to the Barbarian. Carol Townend

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СКАЧАТЬ was there, the woman with misty grey eyes. A burly young man with a martial look to him stood at her side, but William was not interested in the burly young man. Those grey eyes held his and a feminine hand reached towards him. Spring flowers—he could smell spring flowers.

      ‘Let us help you.’

      Her voice was soft and smoky, like her eyes. Between them, she and the burly young man lowered William to the ground.

      ‘The children … Daphne … Paula?’ William forced the words through his teeth with difficulty. His Greek was somewhat rusty. Of course, he understood more than any other Apulian knight of his acquaintance, but today it was a battle to express himself clearly.

      ‘They are safe, they will be cared for,’ the girl said softly. ‘As will you.’

      ‘Where … where …?’ And then, before William could marshal the strength to ask where they were being taken, the grey mist came for him, swirling through his sight, stealing his voice. As his head lolled, the only answer he received was the clatter of chains.

      Back in the Boukoleon Palace, in the reception chamber in Princess Theodora’s apartments, Anna knelt on the marble floor by the slave’s pallet. She studied his unconscious features—just before they had found him a litter, the slave master had revealed that he was a Frank, one of many Normans who had found their way into the Empire.

      He is Frank, he is not all Viking, not like Erling. He is a Frank who has likely inherited his colouring from some distant Viking forebear. But, had Erling lived, he would certainly have resembled this man. The flaxen hair and green eyes—now closed—were the most obvious similarities, the general resemblance was undeniable. Erling was there in the large build, in the protective way the young man had stood over the children. Despite his chains and his injuries, he had been ready to fight the world on their behalf. Erling had been just as protective. Of her.

      Anna had failed Erling and guilt had haunted her for years. I will not fail this man. I may not have decided whether I have a use for him or not, but whatever happens, he will be freed.

      The Frankish slave groaned, the fair head shifted on the pillow, but his eyelids barely fluttered.

      Anna clapped her hands to summon one of the serving girls. ‘Send for more water, if you please, Maria. And clean linens. And …’ she grimaced at the bloodied tunic ‘… fetch some scissors. I will have this man clean and comfortable.’

      ‘Yes, my lady. Those tiles will be hard on your knees—would you like a cushion?’

      ‘Please.’

      Anna glanced across the wide floor towards the two children. Her heart twisted. Poor mites. At her command, a bevy of serving girls had taken them into their care. A large copper basin had appeared, with steaming jugs of water, sponges …

      ‘They will need food first, I think,’ Anna said gently. ‘I doubt they have been fed in some days. Let the older girl have some bread and milk. As for the infant—is there a wet-nurse in the Palace?’

      ‘I shall enquire, my lady.’

      One of the girls curtsied and ran past the guard at the doors, another came in with an armful of white linen. Anna’s attention returned to the Frankish slave.

      His hair needed cutting. Matted and dirty, it had not seen a comb in some time. Carefully, wary of waking him, Anna smoothed it from his face. His face had stopped her breath the moment she’d seen it, and not simply because of the resemblance to Erling. The slave’s features were attractive, regular and even, his mouth was most beautifully formed. He had a strong jaw that was shadowed with several days’ growth of beard, he was overpoweringly male. But the bruises beneath the beard! Anna frowned. His cheekbones were far too prominent, not to mention that they were bruised and bloodied. Overall, the Frank had a gaunt look that was at odds with the powerful build.

      Half-starved.

      ‘Juliana?’

      ‘My lady?’

      ‘Send to the kitchens for meat and wine.’

      ‘Meat, my lady? It is still Lent.’

      ‘Meat,’ Anna repeated firmly. ‘Preferably beef. Tell them it is needed in the Princess’s apartment, no one will gainsay you.’

      ‘Yes, my lady.’

      Taking hold of the Frank’s ragged tunic, Anna began easing it from him.

      ‘Here, my lady.’ Shears were thrust into her hand, a tasselled cushion was placed on the floor next to her.

      ‘My thanks.’

      Anna pulled at the fabric of the slave’s tunic. Like his face, his chest was black and blue. Grimacing, Anna exchanged glances with one of the serving girls. ‘Some people do not deserve to own slaves.’

      ‘No, my lady.’

      The double doors at the entrance to the apartment were flung back and Commander Ashfirth stalked in, his expression was thunderous. He had Katerina by the arm and was towing her behind him.

      Anna caught her breath. Heart cold, she pushed to her knees. She was afraid, very much afraid, that the moment she had dreaded was upon them.

       Has the Commander found us out? Has he realised that the woman he believes to be the Princess is, in fact, just a serving girl?

      She swallowed. ‘Princess Theodor—’

      ‘Later,’ the Commander snapped, marching towards the Princess’s bedchamber. His face was closed, his shoulders were rigid with anger.

      A white-faced Katerina shot Anna a desperate look, but with the Commander hauling her along, she had no choice but to follow.

       He knows! Yes, there is no doubt, Commander Ashfirth knows that Katerina is an impostor. Merciful heavens, if this becomes common knowledge, Katerina and I will be in deep, deep trouble …

      Commander Ashfirth poked his head through the bedchamber door and signalled to the guard. ‘Kari?’

      ‘Sir?’

      ‘The Princess and I do not wish to be disturbed.’

      The guard’s eyes widened. ‘I see.’

      ‘I hope that you do. No one …’ pointedly, Commander Ashfirth jerked his head towards Anna ‘… and I mean no one is to enter this bedchamber.’

      ‘No exceptions, sir?’

      ‘None except Captain Sigurd. Do you understand?’

      ‘Yes, sir.’

      The bedchamber door slammed and the bolts shot home.

      Juliana let her breath out in a rush. ‘Holy Virgin, what is that all about? The Commander will not hurt the Princess, will he?’

      Anna blinked uncertainly at the closed bedchamber door, painfully conscious of the need to guard her tongue. ‘I do not think so.’ Her mind raced. Like everyone else in the Palace, with СКАЧАТЬ