“And Dog? He would have more luck than you,” Perrin said. “Did you not take him with you?”
“I could not find him when I left the first time. Erin says he returned the next day, wet and injured. He died hours later.”
“I am sorry, Garrick. I know you raised him from a pup.”
Garrick said nothing. He had yet to deal with that loss, or to think of anything save finding Brenna.
“I still insist she did not run away, Garrick,” Erin said stoically. “She is out there hurt, perchance—”
“Do not say she is dead, old man!” Garrick cut him off with such vehemence that Erin quickly regretted his words almost spoken.
Perrin tried to ease the tension that suddenly filled the air. “If Dog returned wet, the nearest lake is northwest of here. Have you been that way, Garrick?”
“Yea, and north. And my father is still looking west, to the coast.”
“I have also been north and east, along with many others.”
“You have my thanks, Perrin, for your efforts, but ’tis time to quit. Erin has told me naught different. There is no clue to the direction she fled, not one.”
“You have given up?”
“That woman is as cunning as any man. She swore once that when she escaped I would not find her. ’Twas only because she had Dog with her the first time that I brought her back.”
“But to just give up when, as Erin said, she might be injured, unable to return.”
“Then I would have found her. Nay, my father will not quit, but I am through being the fool. She is gone, and I do not want her name mentioned in my presence again.”
The icy water thrown on Brenna’s face brought her back to consciousness. She choked and coughed, feeling she must surely be drowning. Then her eyes flew open. She was aware of immediate danger, but she could not recall what was threatening her until a tall form loomed before her.
Cedric stood at her feet, completely devoid of any clothing. She saw then that she was also bared to his view, her torn shift thrown open. He feasted his eyes on her with a libidinous grin and she moaned inwardly. Was it over? Were her most private parts already violated by this grinning whoremaster? Nay—nay! She could not believe her mind would so desert her, leaving her helpless in the face of danger.
“So you came back,” Cedric said in a voice that held contempt. “You are like all my women, swooning when faced with a little pain. I had hoped you would be different, wench, that you could endure what I mete out.”
The horrid memory of blinding pain shot through her mind. She looked down at her breasts and saw that small bruises had already formed where his fingers had dug into her skin. She quickly pulled her shift together, but it would not stay.
“You are an animal!” she hissed, her blood racing with poisonous hate.
Cedric chuckled evilly at her outburst. “You do not appreciate my methods of finding pleasure? You will, Brenna,” he said confidently, his voice rising with excitement. “In time you will love what I do to you, and the many different ways I will take you. You will find pleasure in exquisite pain, and beg me to inflict more.”
Her stomach churned in revulsion. She would have to kill him, there was no doubt of that now. But how soon? What would she have to suffer before she found her chance?
He was an evil monster with a warped mind. She stared at him in morbid fascination, revolted, yet unable to take her eyes away. The scars that covered his arms and torso were nothing compared to a long, horrid gash on his hip. And next to that was his protruding manhood, throbbing with anger—a shaft so swollen she knew it would indeed inflict much pain. Had it already? Was it now standing tall to have her again? She had to know. If the damage was already done, she could never return to Garrick without unbearable shame, knowing that what they might have had would never come to pass.
She bit her lip, her misery intense. “Did you—” She could not bear to ask it, but she had to. She closed her eyes and rushed on. “Did you have me yet?”
He laughed at her question. “Do you doubt it?”
She cried out in anguish, but then she heard him laugh even harder. “Nay, wench. I will not have a woman unless she can feel every inch of my sword. She must know who has mastered her, and you will know now.”
Brenna sighed with a relief that she felt for only a second. She realized with dread that she was in the same position as before, no closer to her hidden dagger. This time he was not on her yet, though he was ready. When he bent down, Brenna quickly scrambled away from him, using her feet and elbows to push her backward. But he was still too close for her to try to rise and run. In the next moment, with the mighty yell of a victorous warrior, he leaped on her.
Brenna’s breath was lost when his body fell on her full force. She fought the black waves that clouded her mind once again. She felt terror-stricken, sure she could delay him no longer. Instead of trying to ward him off with her hands, she reached frantically behind her, praying she had moved close enough to her weapon.
At first she felt nothing but smooth dirt beneath the rug, and she panicked. Cedric was already trying to pry her legs apart with one knee and he quickly succeeded. At the same moment, Brenna’s fingers finally touched the cold blade of her dagger and she pulled it to her until she grasped the hilt.
Brenna would have cut his throat smoothly at that moment had he not become suspicious of why she was not resisting him. As it was, he saw her arm beneath the rug and the blade when she brought it out. He clasped her wrist and pinned her hand to the floor by her head, applying brutal pressure until she felt her own grasp weakening. She held on as if her very life depended on it, and as far as she could see, it did. She could not fail now, not when she was so close.
He raised himself up on his knees, and with his free hand, formed a fist and prepared to inflict a stunning blow. He was furious. In Brenna’s mind flashed the further tortures he would mete out if she failed.
