“My, you do seem fixed on this one particular slave.”
“She is not a slave,” Erec growled. “She is my wife.”
The man looked back, shocked—then suddenly threw his head back and roared with laughter.
“Your wife! That’s a good one. Not anymore, my friend. Now she is someone else’s play thing.” Then the innkeeper’s face darkened, into an evil scowl, as he gestured to his henchmen, and added, “Now get rid of this piece of trash.”
The two muscle-bound men came forward, and with a speed that surprised Erec, they both lunged him at once, reaching out to grab his chest.
But they did not realize who they were attacking. Erec was faster than them both, sidestepping them, grabbing the wrist of one of them and bending it back until the man fell flat on his back, and then elbowing the other in the throat at the same time. Erec stepped forward and crushed the windpipe of the man on the floor, knocking him out, then leaned forward and head-butted the other one, who was grasping his throat, knocking him out, too.
The two men lay there, unconscious, and Erec stepped over their bodies and towards the innkeeper, who was now shaking his chair, eyes opened wide in fear.
Erec reached forward, grabbed the man by the hair, yanked back his head, and held a dagger to the man’s throat.
“Tell me where she is, and I might just let you live,” Erec growled.
The man stammered.
“I will tell you, but you are wasting your time,” he answered. “I sold her to a lord. He has his own force of knights and lives in his own castle. He is a very powerful man. His castle has never been breached. And beyond that, he has an entire army on reserve. He’s a very rich man—he has an army of mercenaries willing to do his bidding at any moment. Any girl he buys, he keeps. There is no way you will ever get her free. So go back to wherever it is you came from. She is gone.”
Erec held the blade tighter to the man’s throat until he began to draw blood, and the man cried out.
“Where is this lord?” Erec snarled, losing patience.
“His castle is west of town. Take the Western gate of the city, and go until the road goes no further. You will see his castle. But it is a waste of time. He paid some good money for her—more than she was worth.”
Erec had enough. Without pausing, he sliced this sex trader’s throat, killing him, blood pouring out everywhere, as the man slumped down in his seat, dead.
Erec looked down at the dead body, at the unconscious henchmen, and felt revolted by this entire place. He couldn’t believe it existed.
Erec walked through the room and began to sever the ropes connecting all the women, cutting the thick twine, freeing them one at a time. Several jumped up and ran for the door. Soon the entire room was loose, and they all trampled for the door. Some were too drugged to move, and others helped them.
“Whoever you are,” one woman said to Erec, stopping at the door, “bless you. And wherever it is you are going, may the lord help you.”
Erec appreciate the gratitude and the blessing; and he had a sinking feeling that, where he was going, he was going to need it.
CHAPTER TEN
Dawn broke, spilling through the small windows of Illepra’s cottage, falling over Gwendolyn’s closed eyes, and slowly waking her. The first sun, a muted orange, caressed her, waking her in the near silence of dawn. She blinked several times, at first disoriented, wondering where she was. And then she realized:
Godfrey.
Gwen had fallen asleep on the floor of the cottage, lying on a bed of straw near his bedside. Illepra slept right beside Godfrey, and it had been a long night for the three of them. Godfrey moaned throughout the night, tossing and turning, and Illepra had tended to him incessantly. Gwen had been there to help any way she could, bringing wet cloths, ringing them out, placing them on Godfrey’s forehead, and handing Illepra the herbs and salves she’d continually asked for. The night had seemed endless; many times Godfrey had screamed out, and she’d been sure he was dying. More than once he had called out for their father, and it had given Gwen a chill. She felt her father’s presence, hovering over them strongly. She did not know whether her father would want his son to live