She didn’t bother to protest, at least not until they had reached the stairs. When he started down them, still with her chain in his hand, she drew back, stretching it taut between them.
“You can release the chain now. I—”
He turned, lifting a brow at her. “Did I not warn you to get used to this?”
She frowned. “I do not understand.”
“You thought you would have the same pain I was given, Erika No Heart?” The smile again—the warning. “Nay, I could not do that to a woman, even you. There are other ways, such as the pain of humiliation and shame.” He yanked, and she stumbled down the steps, nearly into him. “Do not lag behind again.”
Not torture, but torture nonetheless. So now she knew her fate, what he had intended all along. No normal revenge. Nothing so simple as that for her. Just shame and degradation at every turn, until her pride became a meaningless thing. She would rather have had the physical pain, but the choice was not offered to her. He had made up his mind—Nay, she would not be defeated by this. He could force humiliation on her, but she wasn’t going to hand over her pride to him. She would retain it, somehow.
He continued down the stairs. Though she loathed doing it, she stayed so close to him that there could be no question in anyone’s mind but that she followed him willingly, making it appear ridiculous, his holding of her “leash.”
Color still flooded her cheeks, uncontrollably, as soon as they became visible to the hall. But her head remained high. And she did not avoid eye contact with anyone, including his family, who awaited him at a grouping of tables near a mammoth keg of ale.
Lady Brenna looked on in disapproval. Kristen was even more tight-lipped, actually outraged. Lord Royce was amused. And Selig’s father showed no expression at all. He rarely did when he looked at her.
As for the rest of the people in the hall who stopped what they were doing to follow their progress, Erika had to console herself that, being so close to Selig’s magnificence, she would be all but invisible herself, especially in the drab servant’s clothes she had been given to wear. The dun-gray chainse was inches too short, revealing clearly the shackles at her ankles. It was also much too tight for her ample breasts, though that tightness was hidden by the brown outer gown that was much too loose, and belted with a strip of rope.
He led her directly to that leisure area where his family waited. All were sitting except Garrick, who, with one foot set upon the end of a bench, stood with his elbows braced against his thigh. Selig, as casually as if he had been there earlier and was now returning—alone—sat on the bench opposite them. Given no specific instruction, Erika remained standing stiffly at his back.
Kristen stood up as he sat down, probably because the glare she was giving him was much more effective from a superior height. “This is intolerable, Selig,” she began.
“No inquiry after my health, sister?”
She actually seemed to swallow whatever she had been about to add, to say instead, gritting out every word, “Is your pain gone?”
“Mostly.”
Her hands slammed against the table as she leaned forward. “Then I repeat, this is intolerable, and do not ask mewhat, you brainless jackdaw, for you know very well. Do you mean to draw her to the king’s notice?”
That got her an unconcerned shrug. “’Tis not unusual to see a slave enchained.”
Erika flinched at that and turned aside so she might not hear more. But whatever Selig added was in Celtic, which Kristen also switched to. Since Erika understood none of it, she ignored them for the moment.
“A male slave, mayhap not,” Kristen was agreeing. “But the last female chained here was myself. And even should Alfred not notice her, what is to stop her from requesting aid of him? And do not think he would not listen to a Dane. He wouldespeciallylisten to a Dane.”
Royce eagerly joined the argument at that point. Because Kristen had not quite forgiven him for the spanking she had received, and because he had been given more cold shoulders than his passionate nature could tolerate comfortably, it behooved him to take her side in this. That her reasoning was valid was less important.
“She is right,” he told his brother-in-law. “Alfred could well ask you to release the lady. And ’tis not wise to refuse a king without excellent reason.”
“My reason would be sound,” Selig insisted.
“As unfair as it might seem, kings do not consider revenge reasonable.”
“Particularly when the peace of their realms could be threatened by it,” Kristen added.
“And they do not like losing able-bodied men to personal wars,” Royce added still more, “when they need those men for their own.”
The argument continued apace. Brenna saw no need to join it. Neither did Garrick, so he took the opportunity to move to Erika’s side.
“So he has made a pet slave of you?”
The word “pet” was even more galling than “slave” to Erika, for that was exactly what Selig was doing, treating her like an animal, apetfor his amusement, a creature not violent or dangerous, but one too dumb to be allowed out without the guidance of a leash.
It was the first time Selig’s father had spoken to her, though he had visited Selig in his chamber quite often. She wondered now if he was as bad as the son, to point out her humiliating position. His expression told her nothing, was still unreadable.
“He thinks he has enslaved me.”
