… perhaps, as part of a lesson for both of you, we will let him watch. Yes,” he mused slowly, his eyes glittering with hate. “That would please me immeasurably to have you naked and begging for mercy—bribing me, perhaps, with what pleasures I desire, while he is forced to stand by and watch. By God, it would indeed be worth sparing his life an hour or two. For that matter, if you pleased me enough with your enthusiasm, you could win a reprieve for days … even weeks.”
Servanne gaped up at him in horror, her eyes flooding with tears. De Gournay only laughed harder and lowered one of his hands to her breast, scooping it free of the ragged edge of her bodice and squeezing the nipple to a bloodless pink between his fingers.
Servanne screamed again and this time there was an answering roar from behind. The Dragon turned just in time to see the raging blur that was Eduard shove Nicolaa aside and launch himself at his master’s back. The glitter of a knife arced downward, aimed for a point midway between the broad shoulders, but the Dragon was able to step aside at the last possible moment, his arm swinging around and throwing Eduard hard against the wall. Releasing Servanne, De Gournay went after his young squire, hauling him to his feet, grabbing for the wrist of the hand that still clutched the steel dagger. Eduard buckled under the pain, but held steadfast to the knife as well as the hatred that blazed from his eyes.
A glance at Servanne brought a malicious smile back to the Dragon’s face.
“It seems you have found yourself another champion, my lady. Think you he would also be useful in convincing you of the error of your ways?”
Before Servanne could respond, or even react to the loathing in his voice, the Dragon slid his hand farther along Eduard’s wrist to engulf the clenched fist. He turned it until the blade was aimed at Eduard’s own thigh, then drove it inward, punching the steel through clothing, flesh, and muscle. Eduard screamed with the pain, a scream that was bitten off, crammed back into his throat on a deep gulp of air, then unleashed again as the knife was given a deliberate half twist.
“Stop!” Servanne shrieked, appalled by the sight of the agony on Eduard’s face. “Stop!”
“No, my lady!” Eduard shouted. “No, do not agree to anything! Do not—ahhhh!”
The blade was wrenched again and the spreading stain of blood flowed freely over the two hands clasped around the hilt of the knife. Servanne flung herself away from the wall and clawed at De Gournay’s shoulders, her tears blinding her, the terror numbing her to her own pain.
“Stop! Stop! I will do anything you ask me to do, only stop! Stop! Stop!”
De Gournay gave the knife a final twist before releasing it. Eduard’s free hand clamped over the one still holding the hilt, and, as he slid slowly down the wall, he used what few grains of strength he had remaining to pull the knife free of his flesh and squeeze his bloodied hands tightly over the wound.
“Eduard!” Servanne dropped to her knees beside him, but was scarcely allowed the opportunity to touch a trembling hand to his ashen cheek before she felt the rough grasp of De Gournay’s hands on her shoulders. Dragged upright, she could only stare in horror at the steady stream of blood that leaked between Eduard’s fingers and fell in a sickening pat, pat, pat onto the floor.
Dimly she was aware of Nicolaa summoning two guards from the landing. Dazed, she watched them pass in front of her and take hold of Eduard under each arm. Helpless, she could do nothing but sob his name as the two grim-faced mercenaries hauled Eduard from the chamber, his leg leaving a smeared trail of crimson in their wake.
“Where are they taking him?” she cried. “What are they going to do to him?”
“They will do whatever I command them to do,” the Dragon said wanly.
Servanne looked at him through the scattered tangle of her hair. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly with the need to control her panic; her hands shook visibly where she tried to hold the torn flaps of fabric over her nakedness. She had seen enough wounds in her eighteen years to know the bleeding hole in Eduard’s thigh would cost him his life if not cauterized and sealed right away. She knew also, beyond a doubt, the Dragon would