Sean glanced at Nell who righted her clothing. She spat at the man who had been about to impale her. He moved to slap her but Sean’s sword was quicker when he placed it between them and shook his head. The man glanced toward their leader who gave a barely discernible nod of his head before backing down.
“Men need their sport.”
“She does not have an aversion to the sport. She’s merely trying to feed herself,” Sean said.
The leader dropped his hand and nodded thoughtfully. “But these are good Norman soldiers. They’re keeping the countryside free from… rabble.”
“Ye’re taking her wares.”
Their leader narrowed his eyes at this. His steely gaze seemed to be measuring Sean’s willingness to fight over this woman. Sean focused his attention on the man. His willingness to fight was without question.
“So you believe each man here should pay to fuck her?”
“Otherwise it would be stealing. Ye ken?”
Their leader’s lips pressed into a stiffened line as if hiding his amusement. He raised his eyebrows in a questioning expression. “Where are you from?”
The soldiers tensed toward Sean as if waiting to hear his answer.
Sean lifted the tip of his blade just a hair. “I am from the west.”
Nervous glances toward their gear left by the door heightened Sean’s readiness for battle. His size alone usually kept men at a distance. He had no problem taking them on either.
“Across the sea!” Their leader smirked at him then glanced at his men. “Ye ken?”
They laughed as if on cue.
“You’re a dumb farmer?” The man at Sean’s left shifted his feet after he’d asked the question. His face disfigured and reddened, possibly from boiling water or tar. A battle-seasoned soldier.
“You’ve the right of it, Will,” the leader said.
Sean stood straighter. He looked down on the man. His expression tight. “Dumb? Nae.”
The disfigured man sneered, his lips and chin the only area unmarred, and moved in closer. “What are you then?”
“A warrior.”
All sound stopped in the room. No one dared to breathe. There were only seven of them. He’d won in more uneven matches than this. That’s when he’d been the only one he needed to think about. Sean wished Thomasina had a means of escape from the area he’d relegated her to. Protecting her from these men was paramount.
“So are yer men willing to pay for their… satisfaction?” Sean questioned.
“I don’t want their blood money.” Nell let loose her outrage at their treatment. “They can just leave. Go!” She directed them to the door with a sweep of her hand. “Go!”
Sean had hoped to defuse the situation but lusty men coming from battle were not to be provoked. Her anger at them would cause resentment. A lesson apparently lost on the wench.
“Mayhap a drink for ye.”
Sean froze. He swallowed hard and had to stop his jaw from dropping at the sound of Thomasina’s voice from behind him.
“Can I get that for ye?” she asked.
The soldiers’ eyes narrowed with suspicion. The leader tipped his head as if assessing this newest development. He watched her as she crossed in front of them, running his thumb along his bottom lip. Sean’s breath caught at the sight of her rounded bottom. Mayhap he should have mentioned that little oversight of her costume instead of making it his mission to block anyone else’s perusal.
She stretched across the trestle where Nell had just been held down against her will and offered a good view to all the soldiers. A collective groan of appreciation then sideways glances between a few of the men. Turning to face them with two jugs now in hand, she smiled.
The leader closed the distance to her in two steps, accepting the jug with a slight bow before placing it on the table.
“Aye. I’ll take that.” He snaked his arm around Thomasina’s back and turned her to face front. He held her up against him. His arm tight around her, just under her breasts which were thankfully bound. A knife glistened in his other hand, close to her neck. “And anything else I like.”
