To Tame A Warrior's Heart

Still sprawled over her, he made short work of removing the third arrow. Hands shaking, he wet a rag in the bowl of water and swabbed away the last of the blood. The warm cloth seemed to soothe her, and she ceased her struggles.

He ventured a glance at her face; eyes closed, mouth silent, she seemed to have finally reached the end of her endurance. He made swift work of bandaging the cuts, then tugged her shift and tunic up over her back with a sigh of relief.

Legs shaking, Nicholas went to check on Idris. The dog slept, apparently resting comfortably despite his injuries. He decided to leave him thus till morning.

His own wound could be left till then, as well, but he had to get out of his hauberk. Having slept in it before, he knew he’d regret doing so again. He bent at the waist and tugged the neckline over his head to allow the weight of the mail to pull it off.

A wave of dizziness washed over him. Arm aflame, head reeling, Nicholas pitched forward onto his hauberk and knew no more.

Chapter Six (#ulink_64b79b50-5d42-5c1a-b551-796d584160b2)

Bryn Du, Northern Wales

Lord Steffan ap Rhys jerked the bedcovers up over his shoulders and burrowed his head beneath the pile of bolsters, but the pounding at his door did not cease. He poked at the woman sprawled beside him. “Answer that, you lazy bitch.”

The slut moaned, rolled over and slid her leg over his hips as she edged closer to him. “Get up,” he snarled, grabbing her by the leg and thrusting her aside. Lips curled in a frown, he shoved the blankets away and climbed from the bed.

A slap on her fleshy buttocks worked well enough to move her off the mattress. “Why are you still here?” He snatched up her gown and threw it at her. Judging from the leisurely way she dressed, his displeasure didn’t disturb her one whit. He’d teach her better next time, he vowed, blood heating at the thought. “Answer the door on your way out.”

She tossed her tangled hair over her shoulder and sent him a gap-toothed grin. “Aye, milord.” Hips swaying, she ambled across the room, then spun about to face him. Her avid gaze caressed his body, lingering on his engorged manhood. “Certain ye want me to leave just yet?”

Did she count herself responsible for this, his usual morning state? Witless bitch! He stepped into his chausses and pulled them up. “Do as I said and go about your duties,” he snarled.

Jerking the door open, she flounced past Huw, the captain of the guard.

“There’s a fine piece,” Huw said as he entered the chamber and shut the door behind him.

“You’re welcome to her.” Steffan slipped into his shirt. “She hasn’t a brain in her head, but she’s skilled enough between the sheets.”

Huw smirked. “She don’t need a brain for what I have in mind. So long’s she’s got the right parts, she’ll suit me fine.”

“I assume you’ve a reason for dragging me from my bed. And you needn’t look so pleased with yourself, you fool—I’ll not tolerate your arrogance for long.” Despite his displeasure, Steffan kept his tone bland, but something in his voice must have alerted the other man. Huw’s expression grew serious and he straightened, assuming the mien of subservience.

Steffan permitted himself a faint smile.

“That fellow Ralph is here, milord, with two of his men.” Huw spoke in a flat tone quite unlike his previous jocularity. “Says he’s got something for you.”

“Indeed.” Being forced from his bed at dawn just might have merit after all. “Bring them to me.” He paused, waiting until Huw was ready to go out the door. “Bring me bread and wine, as well.”

That order did not sit well upon him, Steffan noted as Huw fled the room.

’Twas clearly time to show him who was master here.

Steffan scratched at his chest and savored the successful completion of his latest strategy. He’d tried three times to bring Catrin within his grasp, and three times he’d failed.

This time he would succeed.

Since subtlety hadn’t worked in the past, brute force might—nay, would—grant him a full measure of success. Rumor had it that the scum he’d hired were the best.

Catrin would be within his grasp soon.

He did hope they hadn’t killed her. There were so many experiences he wished to share with his dear cousin before she died.

The mere thought cheered him immensely.

He’d had little time to put his plan into motion, but the idea had been stewing in his mind for months—ever since his faithless cousin Gillian had escaped him. He rubbed the back of his head. It had taken nearly that long for the lump Gillian had dealt him to disappear. But time had not eased his anger at her perfidy, nor Catrin’s part in it.

Gillian stood beyond his reach for the moment.

But Catrin…

He settled into the commodious seat of a thronelike chair, fingers gripping the carved armrests. By Christ’s bones, he could scarcely wait to get his hands upon the traitorous bitch.

A racket at the door brought his pleasant dreams to a halt. Huw shouldered his way into the chamber, tray in hand, clearly unhappy with the menial chore. Three men followed him into the room.

“Leave that here and get out,” Steffan told him.

Once Huw left, Steffan lounged back into the cushions and gazed at the men. They appeared nervous—not a good sign. However, Ralph stepped forward easily enough at Steffan’s signal.

“You’ve something for me, Ralph?” He could scarcely contain his anticipation.

Ralph took a rough cloth bag from one of the men, opened it and pulled out a woman’s bliaut.

“What is this?”

“’Tis one of your lady’s gowns, milord.” Ralph removed another from the sack and held it out. “There’s two of them.”

“And what does this mean?” Despite his mounting frustration, Steffan ignored Ralph’s offering and sipped at his wine as though he hadn’t a care in the world. “I told you to bring me the woman, not her clothes.”

Ralph flung the gowns to the floor. “Would you rather we’d carried her lifeless body through your bailey for all to see?”

Outraged by the man’s gall, Steffan leapt to his feet. “I wanted her alive, you fool!” He snatched a bliaut off the floor and tore it in two. Perhaps there was still a chance…He thrust the garment toward Ralph. “This proves nothing. It could belong to anyone.” Flinging the fabric aside, he snarled, “Bring Lady Catrin uerch Dafydd to me.”

Though Ralph stood his ground, it appeared his courage had fled, for he wouldn’t meet Steffan’s eyes. “It couldn’t be helped, milord. In the thick of battle she took an arrow—a couple of arrows—in the back.” The others nodded agreement. “It’d be more’n our lives’re worth to carry her in here like that.” His face grew pale. “What if that hell-spawned brother of hers found out? All the gold in the world couldn’t save us from the Dragon!”

Ready to howl his frustration, Steffan dragged his hands through his hair. “What must I do to get anything done properly? I’d wager you never even saw the bitch.” He swept his arm across the table, sending food and wine flying against the wall with a satisfying crash. “I didn’t pay you to spend the night in some tavern—warm and lazy in your doxy’s arms.”

Ralph’s cohorts sidled toward the door. “Get back here,” Steffan demanded. “I didn’t tell you you could leave.” They stopped in their tracks, legs aquiver. “Sniveling cowards,” he muttered, turning to Ralph. “Well?”

“Truth to tell, milord, you haven’t paid us yet.” Ralph smiled—smirked, more like. Steffan’s hands itched at the provocation, but he restrained himself. He wasn’t done with the man quite yet. “But you should,” Ralph continued. “Indeed, milord, though we couldn’t capture the lady like you wanted, we got the job done. She’ll ne’er cause you trouble again.”

One of the others stepped forward, much to Steffan’s surprise. “Aye, milord. Deader than a haddock, she is. Seen it wi’ me own eyes. Weren’t no help fer it, sir—she attacked us.” He hitched up his breeches and nodded. “Right fearsome bitch, weren’t she, Ralph?”

Blood afire, Steffan lunged forward and struck him across the face, knocking him to the floor. “How dare you speak so of a noble lady?” ’Twas his right to speak of her however he wished—she was his kin and his equal. But these scum…

“See here, milord—” Ralph said.

“Get out, all of you!”