Eldred grinned. “You are a fool, Randwulf. What matters who she was? She is a slave now.”
His hand rose to touch Kristen’s cheek as he spoke. Kristen turned her face away. She was feeling a definite nervousness now. They were crowded round her, too close, and she had the table at her back, preventing any retreat. But how far could she retreat with the long chain binding her to the wall?
“Have done, milords,” she said tersely. “I have work to do.”
It was a bold move, turning her back on them and hoping they would accept her dismissal. It was the wrong move. A hard body pressed into her back, and two hands came round to fasten on her breasts.
Kristen’s reaction was swift. She only had to turn partially to shove the man away from her. It was Randwulf, and he stumbled back with an expression of amazement that was almost comical.
“You dare, wench?” he blustered once he got his balance. “You truly dare!”
Kristen looked at each one of them. Eldred was amused; the other two were not. God help her, if only she had a weapon to ward them off. But not even a small cutting knife had she ever been allowed to use while she worked. The other women did all the cutting.
“I am not here for your pleasure, milords. I am used as hostage, to assure the behavior of the men I came here with. Royce would not like me to be ill used.”
She was bluffing, for she had no way of knowing what Royce would do if these men raped her. He might not care if they did, but he might also use that excuse to challenge Eldred and be glad for it.
Eldred took particular interest in her words. “‘Royce’? You call your lord by his name? I wonder why.”
“Because she shares his bed, no doubt,” Randwulf sneered. “And if he can have her, so then can we.”
“Nay!” Kristen shouted, but it was at Eldred she glared. “Do you risk what he will do to you? He will kill you!”
“You think so, wench?” Eldred smiled. “Then let me correct you. Your Royce will do naught, because Alfred does not like his nobles fighting amongst themselves, and Royce never displeases Alfred.”
He had moved closer as he spoke, and so did the others. Because she had all three to watch at once, she was caught off guard by Eldred. His hands clamped on her wrists and shoved them both up behind her back, forcing her breasts hard against his chest. He tried to kiss her, but he could not keep her face still when he held both hands. He thought to remedy that by holding both her hands together with only one of his. It was his mistake, her strength underestimated.
It was no measly slap she gave him when she broke one hand loose, but a solid blow with her fist that struck the side of his head and staggered him with dizziness. But the other two immediately laid hands on her to subdue her own. Eldred was now furious, a dark rage contorting his handsome features, turning them ugly.
“You will pay for that, wench,” he promised her. “I will demand your life—after I am done with you.”
“Enough!”
They all turned to see Alden coming toward them, with Eda close on his heels. Kristen could have kissed the old woman for bringing someone, even him.
“Stay out of this, Alden,” Eldred warned. “The wench struck me.”
“Did she? Well, ’tis no surprise, for she is no common wench.” Alden moved around them to the stake in the wall that held Kristen’s long chain, pointing at it with his sword tip. “Why think you she is chained?”
The question was ignored by Eldred. “I warn you, Alden, I mean to have her.”
“Aye,” Randwulf agreed. “So do I.”
“Do you fight us three?” Eldred grinned now.
“Me?” Alden feigned surprise. “I will not have to. The wench fights her own battles, and she does it very well. And in all fairness, she must be allowed to.”
Before they knew what he was about, Alden broke the chain from the wall with his sword point. His action brought no concern to the three men. They still watched Alden, sword drawn and only a few feet away, so Randwulf was again taken by surprise as Kristen jerked her arm away from him and bent to pick up the length of chain.
The third man could not release her other arm fast enough, now that she had this weapon in her hands. She twirled the loose end of the chain round her head, forcing the circle of men back. They could not get near her now without gaining some hurt.
Randwulf was bold enough to try, though, thinking that if he could get the chain to wrap about his arm, he could yank her off her feet with it, since it was still connected there. He was prepared to endure the pain, sure the chain would strike on the fleshy part of his arm and be no worse than a stinging blow. He was not prepared to have it slip below his raised arm and strike his rib cage.
One rib cracked. The sound of it was lost to Randwulf in the horrid sting of iron meeting flesh. His skin felt torn away, the pain shooting instantly to his brain. It was so bad he nearly fainted and was unaware he rolled on the floor screaming.
Kristen felt not an ounce of remorse for what she had done. She was fully prepared to do it again. Eldred was the first to realize this and motioned the other man back. But he was not done himself, and turned on Alden.
“Make no mistake, the King will hear of this. He sent us here—”
