Enchantress (Medieval Trilogy 1)
“Except for Garrick.”
A mean glint lighted Strahan’s eyes. “All I want is Garrick’s loyalty.”
“Do you think he would ever kneel before you?’ Ware spat. His stomach roiled, and he thought he might get sick all over Strahan’s freshly oiled armor.
“I think there are ways to persuade him.”
“He would never…” Ware’s voice trailed off as the truth hit him full in the face. “You bastard! You stole Logan.” Ware lunged forward, but Strahan pushed him easily against the wall. “Where is he?”
“The boy is fine.”
“And what of Will Farmer?” Ware demanded. “The gang of robbers who—”
“Will was just a pawn. I used him to get the news to Garrick. The thieves and cutthroats, they are my men now,” Strahan bragged, apparently enjoying the horror on his cousin’s faces. “They were easily bought. For a few pieces of gold and the chance for free amusement with Jocelyn, they gladly took the boy and his maid and kept them on the run, hiding them in this place and that.”
“You bloody devil!”
“God in heaven,” Clare whispered, “how could you?” When Strahan didn’t respond, she advanced upon him. “Why would you torment a man who has done naught but help you?”
“Ha! Help me? Has he ever once tried to wrest Hazelwood away from McBrayne?” Strahan demanded, his lips curling. “Nay. Never. And why? Because he enjoys being my lord and master and would never allow me to be his equal.”
“You’re daft!” Clare said, still walking bravely forward.
“I think not.”
She stopped just short of him. “Let us go, Strahan,” she demanded. “For the love of God, let Logan and Jocelyn go free and give up this sinful vengeance against a cousin whose only fault is that he trusted you. You have no right to take this castle—”
“Shut up!” he backhanded her, and Clare staggered backward toward the wall, catching herself with one hand, though she nearly fell to the floor. A throbbing red welt appeared on her cheek as she regained her balance.
“You cowardly bastard!” Ware lunged, but Sir Joseph, his arm still bandaged, lifted his sword, ready to slay the young whelp who had wounded him.
“Don’t!” Strahan commanded, and Joseph, with a growl, stopped advancing. “Now, Ware, if you know what’s best for you and your family, you won’t cause difficulties while I’m gone.”
“You’re leaving?” Ware couldn’t hide his delight.
“To find your brother. We’ve spent two days searching the forests and villages for Morgana. She’s vanished, and unless I miss my guess, she’s fled to Garrick.” His face had turned into a mask of hatred, and he clenched his teeth as if trying to keep back vomit that rose in this throat. “It appears that my intended has become your brother’s lover.”
“Garrick would never bed another man’s woman,” Clare stated. She rubbed her cheek but stood tall, silently daring Strahan to strike her again.
Strahan lifted a skeptical brow. “Cousin Garrick is used
to taking whatever he wants. I doubt he feels any sense of honor where Morgana is concerned. He’s stolen from me all my life; he won’t stop now.”
“That’s a lie!” Ware growled.
“You’re to answer to Joseph and Sir Charles now,” Strahan told him.
“The steward was in on this?” Clare demanded, unbelieving.
Strahan lifted a shoulder. “Most men’s loyalty can be bought — with either gold or women or fear for their lives. Charles was one of the easy converts.”
“You Judas!” Ware muttered, and Glyn began to pray again. For the first time Joseph noticed her kneeling on a pillow by the bed, her blond hair pulled away from her face as she whispered prayers for deliverance.
Joseph’s eyes gleamed for a second, and he licked his fat lips. Strahan, reading his thoughts, placed a restraining hand on the huge knight’s shoulder.
Glyn stiffened as she caught the lust in Joseph’s glittering stare. Understanding the sudden tension in the room, she stumbled over her prayers, and her face drained of all color.
“You cannot have her,” Strahan said to Joseph.