The Knight's Prisoner (Medieval Discipline 1)

“Mine. Mine. Mine.” Ferrum said with each stroke, while she gasped and flinched. He strapped up her bottom and back down and then caught her on the back of the legs. She pressed her knuckles into her mouth to keep from screaming. He struck her there again, and she panicked, struggling uselessly against his firm hold. “It hurts a fair bit more on the backs of your legs, doesn't it?” Ferrum asked musingly.

“Ferrum,” she choked. “You're spanking so hard.”

“I know, little flower,” he said tenderly, stroking up and down the long curve of her back with his huge palm. “I plan to spank you to tears tonight.” He began to strap her again with the belt, so hard she knew she'd have difficulty sitting the next day.

Knowing he desired her tears—that he needed this—helped her let go of any push to be strong. She welcomed each welting bite of his belt until she broke down and wept, releasing her guilt and responsibility with her sobs. He lifted her and carried her to the bedding, tucking the woolen blanket around her, lying down next to her. His hand rubbed her blistered bottom, and he murmured comforting words in her ear. And though she could not seem to attend to their meaning, she felt the tenderness in them. She pressed her face into his chest and cried until there were no more tears to be cried, feeling loved and cared for. Feeling as if she were exactly where she belonged—in the safety and comfort of Ferrum's strong arms, cleansed of her sins, knowing the strength of his passion for her.

Chapter 7

Holding and comforting Dani that night, Ferrum felt guilty he'd pushed her so hard, though it had been his intention to spank her to tears. But the following morning she was as happy and chirpy as a little bird, seemingly cleansed of it, and she stayed close by his side all day, as if she craved his nearness and touch. That night she even perched on his knee in front of all the men, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his scarred ear. She leaned the side of her head against his and stared into the fire, and he felt her mood subtly shift to a quiet listening. He had come to recognize when she was visited by the Sight.

“Your home is in danger,” she said gravely.

“My home?”

“Aye, the place where you and Prince Phillip were raised. King Benton is there. Or will be there.”

Umbria. They were headed there already, but this was bad news. He stood up, regretfully sliding his beautiful wife off his lap, to tell Phillip.

“We'll leave before first light at full speed,” Phillip ordered.

He nodded and walked the camp, ordering the men to pack and ready the camp for a quick departure in the morning. They rode out before dawn and stopped only when it was clear the horses needed rest. When they reached the crest of the hilltop overlooking Umbria, Phillip cursed. A battle was underway, with hundreds of soldiers swarming outside the castle walls. “May the devil take Benton!” Phillip hissed. The curtain wall had already been breached, and the soldiers were pouring into the bailey.

Ferrum pulled his horse quickly to the edge of the woods, making a sharp gesture for Dani to follow. “You stay here and wait for me. Don't leave unless you've been seen and must flee. If that happens, go back to the place we rested the horses last. Understand?”

“Aye. Godspeed, Ferrum,” she choked. He shook his head. “No fears for me, little flower. I'll be back for you,” he promised.

Phillip was already making a keening war cry, and he spun his destrier to join the men, kicking him into a gallop as they charged down the hill. They took Benton's soldiers by surprise, dividing their focus between their men and Umbria's, who were shooting arrows from the castle towers. It was not long before they'd cut down most of the forces still outside the walls and routed them inside where the greater battle was being waged.

They plunged inside, Phillip at the lead. There was mass confusion within—it was hard to tell which soldiers were Benton's and which were Umbria's. Ferrum rode his horse in as far as possible, cutting down men only when he was sure they were Benton's. It seemed at first the Duke's men were fighting against them, but then William, their foster brother and the Duke's natural son saw him from across the Great Hall. He lifted his sword in fierce greeting.

“The Red Fox has arrived!” William roared. A shout of approval went up from the Umbrian men, their battle cries growing fiercer with triumph. That seemed to clear up some of the confusion, and they began to press forward with the battle in the courtyard.

“Benton!” Phillip bellowed, turning his destrier in a circle. “Show your face to me!”