The Knight's Prisoner (Medieval Discipline 1)

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She'd enjoyed having sex with Sir Ferrum that morning, despite his belief she was offering it as a commodity. She'd wanted it and actually enjoyed it—mayhap for the first time ever. She hadn't faked her pleasure, as she always had at the tavern if the customer cared about her climax. And that kiss the night before… Sir Ferrum didn't believe she could be attracted to him. He was ashamed of his scars. She'd seen the way he'd covered them when they'd talked about it—the way he'd pulled away when she touched them. She didn't mind the scars—nay, she liked them. They suited the rough warrior. And seeing his insecurity over them made her want him even more.

Not that she was staying. It had been impossible to escape under the knight's watch, but the opportunity came mid-morning that day when he entrusted her to the care of another knight—a man named Sir Godfrey.

“Don't let her out of your sight,” Sir Ferrum warned him.

“I can handle a wee little woman like her,” Godfrey had winked, which solidified Dani's intention to leave on his watch.

She waited until Godfrey was distracted by conversation with his squire, and then she slipped away into the woods as fast as she was able to go. The trouble was, she quickly became lost. It would have been impossible to take a horse unnoticed, but now that she was trudging through the forest without the slightest idea where she was, she realized her folly. She had no food or water, not even her eating knife to help her forage food. The soldiers had been camped near a river. She needed to try to find the river again, and surely following it would lead her to some village where she might beg for food or sell her body for coin.

She had a rising sense of panic, though. Supposing she never found the river. She might die of thirst before she ever found her way. Or be killed by wolves. She didn't like being lost in the woods. Not at all. A sudden movement right in front of her made her scream and jump back, and as she turned to run, she barreled headlong into a giant chest.

Sir Ferrum. He caught her and steadied her.

“It was just a doe,” he said mildly, as if she had more to fear from the wild animal than she did from him. He released her after he steadied her, apparently completely confident in his ability to catch her if she tried to run. He looked neither angry nor even perturbed.

She gaped at him. “Have you been following me this whole time?”

“No, I tracked you here. I only just caught up.”

“I—I didn't hear you.” She seemed only capable of saying inane things.

He gave a slight grin that didn't reach his eyes. “Hard to believe a giant ogre like me can be so quiet, isn't it?” He seemed proud of the fact. Which, she supposed, he should be. She had no idea how he tracked her here, when she had run willy-nilly through the forest.

He handed her a skein of wine and a chunk of bread wrapped in a piece of cloth. The gesture was so unbelievably generous considering the situation, and her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you,” she choked as she took them from him.

“Come, eat as you walk. We were supposed to be moving camp today, so everyone's waiting on us, and there's still your punishment to deal with before we get there.”

Though she hadn't forgotten his warning of the first night for a moment, she felt like her legs had dropped off her body, and she tripped. He caught her arm and easily righted her. She stole a glance at his scarred face. It was blank, as usual.

“I'm sorry,” she ventured.

“I doubt that,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I imagine you will be.”

The surge of fear that ran through her almost tripped her again. “Well I was sorry,” she said sullenly, for lack of anything better to say. “It was not my brightest move. I was completely lost and hungry when you found me.”

“Aye,” he said knowingly, as if it was how he'd expected to find her. “You should've stayed close to the river,” he said.

“Aye, I had just realized that, but finding my way back to the river was the problem.”

“You actually walked in a half-circle. We're not overly far from it now.”

She continued walking, feeling the strangeness of their perfectly civil, ordinary conversation, considering she was his prisoner and in imminent danger of the whipping of her life. They passed by a large felled tree, and Sir Ferrum caught her arm and stopped. He threw his cloak across the enormous log and pointed at it.

“I'll punish you here. No sense in the whole camp hearing it.”

She felt her limbs go weak and stood rooted to the spot. He came to take her arm, guiding her to the log and bending her over it where his cloak was laid. She spared a thought, wondering again at the kindness of the cloak, but then lost her concentration as she felt him dragging her skirts up so her bottom and legs were completely bare. Her belly was a mess—she suddenly wished she had not eaten the bread because she felt quite sick. The hammering of her heart was so loud she could almost hear it echoing against the log.