The women were both still there in the hall. MacNabh’s mother started screeching as soon as she saw them.
Roisin saved her words for when MacNabh dragged Darlei up again by one arm. She looked disheveled, and blood stained her hair.
“So ye caught the wee bitch! I want her beaten, beaten soundly. Battered for wha’ she did to me.”
“Nay fear,” MacNabh grunted. “She will get in full wha’ she deserves.”
The servants had gathered. They crowded the edges of the room, all staring. They would no doubt speak of this for years.
Roisin said, quite shockingly, “I want to watch. I want to see ye discipline her.”
“Get awa’ fro’ me, woman!” MacNabh elbowed her aside viciously before hoisting Darlei up in his arms.
She struggled. She fought as best she might, kicking and flailing, but she could feel his rage, a ferocious fire, could feel how her struggling served to fuel it.
A voice sounded in her head.Keep it up and he will kill you.
That must be the voice of sanity breaking through the terror. She’d been half mad since all this began. The only spot of beauty, of calm, since she’d left home had been Deathan.
Deathan. Had he truly been there in the forest?
I will find ye, always, she thought she heard him say.
But nay. She did not want him here, risking his life. She would save herself or perish.
How was she to save herself?
MacNabh bore her from the hall and on a determined slog up to her chamber. The very place from whence she’d escaped.
Thought she had escaped.
He tossed her not onto the bed but on the floor, and kicked the door shut.
“Get up, bitch.”
She still did not know if she could. She could feel all her hurts now, the blows and the scrapes. Worse was to come.
And was this to be her life? At this man’s mercy always? Beyond alone, here in this prison?
Somehow she gained her feet and faced MacNabh. “If you beat me, the king will see the bruises. When he comes, he will see what you have done to me. You cannot beat me.”
“When the king does come, he will see I ha’ applied the discipline that was required. I ha’ been too soft wi’ ye, by half.”
He took a step toward her.
She stepped back, which took her up against the bed.
Another step—he stalked her now—and he unfastened the belt he wore over his kilt. Tossed it, as before, onto the bed.
“I shall breed ye as was meant. I do no’ think ye are good enough to carry my sons, but since that is wha’ the king intends, so it shall be. Ye may expect me to ride ye every night till the deed be done.”
“Nay.” It was the only word Darlei could force through her lips.
“And if ye say nay”—he delivered a blow that knocked Darlei onto the bed—“this is wha’ ye will earn.”
Anger gathered inside Darlei. A desire fully born. With no one here to save her, shemustsave herself.
He came down toward her like a mountain falling. Panic rose inside her, swift and fierce. She could not let it hamper her, such terror. Not now.
