Scratching his crotch, he squirmed in the saddle. He’d been
riding for hours and was weary. His muscles and back ached clear to his bones, but the thought of bargaining over his sisters’ future brought a smile to his face. Sorcha—his tormentor. Now, at last, he could be rid of her and be paid a handsome price as well. As for Leah, he was glad to see her off, as far away as possible. Let her preach and pray at another castle; Tadd was tired of her piety and glances of disapproval. Yes, he’d take whatever he could for her as well.
From the looks of the castle, the Baron of Erbyn was a very rich man. He could let go of a few pieces of gold and a smaller castle somewhere near Prydd, a castle where Tadd could keep several whores, women who would take care of him in ways his wife would never.
He planned to marry soon, get his wife with child, and become father to a son, but he knew that whatever noble-woman he chose, she wouldn’t excite him in bed. She’d do her duty and bear children, but would probably disapprove of the wenches he would need to satisfy his lusty appetite.
Yea, a small castle for drinking, gambling, bearbaiting, cockfighting, and whoring. Mab. He’d take Mab with her small breasts and quivering lips and round, fearful eyes. He’d keep her until she no longer trembled at the sight of him. Then, as was his original plan, he’d loan her to his friends; by then she would learn that by pleasuring a man, she would receive gifts and kind words. Yea, in time, she would make a fine whore.
At the outer gate his party was stopped, and he argued with a guard. Eventually he was allowed into the castle with two of his knights, though the guard wasn’t happy about the second man. But Tadd insisted and rode proudly into the inner bailey. A fat man with suspicious eyes and a belly that hung over his belt grudgingly took their horses to be fed and watered.
The guard was a man without expression, and he led Tadd and his two men, Christian and Gower, into a great hall that was as grand as it was immense. Huge beams crossed beneath a ceiling that was high and coved, tapestries decorated the whitewashed walls, and the lord’s dais was two steps above the smooth stone floor. Sweet-smelling rushes had been scattered over the floor, and a huge fire crackled in the hearth.
Servants scurried out of their way as they walked through a wide corridor and past a staircase toward the dais, where the cur Hagan … nay, Darton of Erbyn sat in a huge chair, looking for all the world as if he were the baron. Two were with him, a tall, gaunt-looking man and a shorter fellow with red hair and mean eyes. The hairs on the back of Tadd’s scalp lifted in warning, but he showed no trace of fear.
“Welcome,” Darton said, rising. His hands were out-spread in a gesture of greeting and goodwill. “Come sit at the table. Have food and drink and find comfort.”
A serving wench appeared carrying a tray laden with six mazers of wine and a basket of apples. She was a comely girl with big breasts that seemed about to spill out of the top of her tunic. “Lucy, give Sir Tadd whatever he requests,” Darton said warmly, and the girl, flashing large brown eyes in Tadd’s direction, smiled. Tadd’s loins tightened as he took a cup of the wine, stared at the deep cleft of the wench’s incredible bosom, and drank heartily. Oh, to bury his face in those warm, supple pillows. He watched Lucy retreat. Her hips were wide and swung as she walked, and he imagined himself mounting her. A big woman, she could endure much and might spend hours satisfying a man. His breeches were suddenly painfully tight and he had to force his gaze back to his host. He gritted his teeth and hoped his passion didn’t show.
“You like her?” Darton asked, his eyes flashing as he picked up an apple, polished it on the end of his tunic, and tossed it in the air. “You may have her. I’ll arrange it.” He caught the apple deftly and took a bite. “Or … if you would prefer, there is Bliss … None sweeter, I assure you. Here, drink … and eat.” He motioned to all the soldiers.
Tadd’s throat constricted and his mouth was dry with lust, but he forced his thoughts away from whoring for the moment and picked up a cup. “I am here about my sisters.” He took a long swallow, quenching his thirst. The others joined in.
Darton smiled warmly. “I expected as much.”
“Baron Hagan has promised their safe return along with payment for the trouble and grief I’ve suffered.” Importantly, Tadd plucked Hagan’s letter from his pouch and laid it on the table near Darton, who scanned the words and shook his head.
Sighing, Darton said, “I’m afraid I have some disturbing news.”
His sisters—were they dead? Already killed by Hagan’s men? Tadd’s muscles tightened and he was glad he still had his sword with him. “News?”
“Hagan is missing. As are your sisters.”
“What?”
“Oh, don’t fret,” Darton said with a wave, as if swatting away a bothersome insect. “ ’Tis only a matter of time until all are found.” Setting his elbows on the table, he leaned closer to Tadd, as if to confide a great secret. “Sorcha and Leah decided to return to Prydd on their own and convinced a stableboy to turn traitor. Then they stole some valuable horses to accomplish their escape.” He clucked his tongue as if the plan were silly and foolish. “Hagan, of course, was incensed at their disobedience. He gathered together a few of his men, left me in charge of Erbyn, and took off after the traitors. We expect them back any time.”
Traitors? “My sisters were not traitors. It sounds as if they were treated like prisoners.” Tadd was uneasy. He didn’t trust anyone from Erbyn, and this story seemed a convenient lie guaranteed to make him sweat. Well, he was worried, but he hid it well. “Leah was kidnapped,” he reminded his host, “brought here and held against her will.”
Darton’s lips tightened a bit, but he didn’t argue.
“Hagan admits to the deed.”
“Yes, well—”
“And Sorcha only came here to free her sister,” Tadd continued, smiling to himself as he defended the woman who had been the bane of his existence from the moment of her birth. “I will expect compensation.” Tadd decided to press his advantage. “But, of course, I should discuss this with Lord Hagan.”
Darton’s smile froze. “I’ve spoken with Hagan about this and I know his plans. You will be compensated well, Sir Tadd, and as for your sisters, they will be provided for. Sir Marshall has offered to marry Lady Leah—” from the corner of his eye he saw Marshall stiffen, but if he was inclined to argue, he held his tongue “—and I myself will take Lady Sorcha as my bride. We will expect no dowries, of course, and in truth, I think Hagan will want to keep the peace.”
“Three people were murdered during the kidnapping.”
“A mistake. Those responsible have already been imprisoned,” Darton said, lying easily. Tadd was so easy to read—a mere boy. “Justice at Erbyn is swift.”
“I lost two soldiers and a woman servant.”
“For which you will be paid.”
It was Tadd’s turn to inch closer. “I want a small fiefdom; a castle not far from Prydd.”