The Irish Warrior

“Her ladyship is here…for a game. Methinks’ twill be great fun,” he announced, then disappeared.

“Sirs,” Senna trilled, sweeping into the small, dirt-walled room. She smiled brightly, completely pushing aside the terror about to close up her throat.

“My lady!” they exclaimed in startled unison.

“I am inspecting the castle,” she explained brightly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “And I couldn’t very well ignore this place, could I, where the ruffians who threaten my lord’s peace are held, before being taught the folly of their ways? ’Tis here that the true peace is kept, and men like you ought to be honored for your role.”

She concluded her patriotic little speech with sparkling eyes. The men stared at her, mystified.

“And how long have you been stationed here?” She wandered around the small antechamber, continuing the one-sided conversation.

The taller of the two cleared his throat. “Since Michaelmas.”

“Do you enjoy the post?” she asked, seating herself at the small table and peering at them with interest.

“My lady,” the shorter one mumbled helplessly. His thoughts were emblazoned across his face like an armorial crest: What was this cruel torment? What answer would suffice?

She got back to her feet and wandered about the room, tucking her injured hand close to her chest. The men stared, slack jawed, then jerked their eyes away. They shifted back and forth on their booted feet, their eyes darting to every point in the room but the brightest.

“The souls who do the hardest work are oft ignored by those who receive the bounty of their labors,” Senna said in a conspiratorial tone.

They nodded miserably. She could have said the king of England should be garroted and they would have agreed.

“I do not wish to be one of those who would benefit without giving recompense,” she added, spinning around.

They jerked straighter and stared straight ahead. “Nay, my lady!”

“Some are,” she breathed, soft again. Bending her head, she touched her hand gently, drawing their eye to the damage done by their lord.

“Aye, my lady,” the taller one muttered uneasily.

“I wish to know all my people and to show my…appreciation to those who work hard in my service,” she murmured in a low voice, and, in a fit of inspiration, trailed her hand along the curve of her bodice.

The guards’ eyes practically bulged out of their heads.

“Aye, my lady,” the shorter one stammered, wiping sweat from his brow.

She lifted her eyebrows ever so slightly. That particular tactic had never come into use in contract negotiations before. “And when do you leave your posts?”

“Prime,” one croaked.

She smiled in relief. “So you shall be here later this eve?”

The taller one adjusted first. “As you wish, my lady.” He stepped forward, his gaze raking her figure with an intense, hungry look.

Her mouth went dry. She stepped backward, her ankle turning slightly as she stumbled.

“Fine then. We understand one another,” she murmured, her heart hammering. This was a remarkably dangerous game, but what other weapons did she have at her disposal? Few enough not to use those to hand.

“I will leave you to your posts and explore the remainder, as I have done with all the rest of the castle.”

“My lady, those are the holes where the prisoners are kept,” the taller one protested, stepping forward again.

She turned, her forehead furrowed in delicate disapproval.

“Are you gainsaying me? My lord has it wished that I know every inch of his keep, as he will know every inch of me. Those were his exact words. I have found it unw

ise to thwart him.”