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Chapter Thirty-Three - Xander
Last Updated:
2022-08-09 17:24:36
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“I need your help,” she said, “starting from now.” Eithne was too shocked to protest, while Megan demanded to know on whose authority. “Clara won’t like it if she isn’t aware.” The female gladiator ignored her, crossing the threshold and surveying the richly-appointed chamber. A frown formed on her forehead and she went over to the far side of the room. Without warning, she took the dagger from her belt and stuck it into a small opening in the wall. “Has that always been there?” Eithne shook her head. “If I were you I’d undress behind a screen in future,” Rowanne said. Crouching down, she inspected a hole in the flagstones, shaking her head in a way which didn’t disclose what she was thinking. “The Princess would be far safer under your protection,” Megan said. “A flatterer. Why didn’t you warn her?” “Because I didn’t know.” Slowly, it dawned on Eithne that there had been a clandestine witness to her wanton romp. She clapped a hand over her mouth, feeling slightly sick. “My
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Eithne knew she was in trouble when the man in the surcoat planted his dirty boots on the part of the floor she had just finished scrubbing. Orange and mauve, her least favourite colours in the world. “You are to come with me, Princess,” he said, extending his arm. She scrambled to her feet without assistance, wondering why every time someone sent by Clara spoke to her they did so with a sneer. The way he pronounced her title made it sound as if she belonged in a dung heap. It couldn’t be any worse than here. Her heart sank to see they were on their way to the royal chamber. The escort rapped once on the door and stood back so that Eithne came face to face with Ephron. “There you are, you little harlot. Tell Mama how you behaved like a true fille de joie with an unknown man.” Two things alarmed her about that last sentence. Her brother used the Frankish term for a prostitute when he had always professed a distaste for Clara’s mother tongue. And he apparently hadn’t recognised Xand
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Iain’s quarters were even less comfortable than Rowanne’s. Was that deliberate? she wondered. Yet the sometimes prickly girl from across the water made her welcome and she sank gratefully onto a pile of cushions, rubbing at her sore knees. The still limping gladiator – how had she missed that before? – was only too pleased to share some of his allotted ale and they sat at the tiny table as Ava continued where she had left off on the castle battlements. He asked a question or two occasionally, but otherwise left her to make sense of her past as best she could in the telling of it. * There were four of them in the commander’s tent, all unshackled now and on their knees. Ava tried not to think about what would happen next. King Harold had regularly made her watch his guards have their fun with reluctant maidservants. It would be too cruel to play an active part in that. Connor was in no mood to be gainsaid. Marriage was definitely off the table, while the other benefits clearly weren’
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“There’s a lot of intrigue in a royal court.” Iain set down his tankard, wiped his mouth and offered up a smile. “I’m beginning to understand that, Princess. Though Isabel wouldn’t open up to me. Scared of her own shadow that one.” “You’re wrong, gladiator,” Ava said. “She’s just different, that’s all.” She looked him straight in the eye as she added, “Izzy needs someone to love and appreciate her or she’ll never know her own worth.” The big man spluttered, and Eithne slapped him on the back. “Surely you don’t mean me?” he gasped. “Bloody piece of bread went down the wrong way.” “That’s what you get for stuffing your face.” Ava said it with affection, and Eithne couldn’t help remembering how readily she’d prepared the simple meal which included cheese and red apples, as well as buttermilk. She’d disappeared for a while “on a forage” as she said. No doubt the food had been pilfered from the royal larder but these days the Princess of Ormond wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the m
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Something wasn’t right. The Princess hadn’t been seen for hours and she was concerned. Knowing it was probably breaking all kinds of rules to seek out her fellow gladiator, Rowanne did not hesitate. Flavius had seemed the friendliest of the bunch and appeared to know his way around.He would tell her it straight, assuming he knew.What was Queen Clara plotting now? She was no fool. Her days as a combatant were definitely numbered, especially when the concept of fighting to the death was introduced. Rowanne knew she would be lucky to win a bout and may make an unlooked for enemy if she did.Though it was late, the female gladiator who had once contemplated being employed as a cook, made her way stealthily down the corridor until she found the door with the appropriate symbol. Even the slackwits knew this was a fighter’s domain and to be cautious. Her own was an arrow, while he had opted for an axe.She knocked only once and not loudly, but everyone said his hearing was excellent.The d
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“She plans to do what?” “You heard me the first time, Alexander of the Franks.” They were riding a couple of nags along an overgrown path and, if the nettles had been any higher … No, he mustn’t exaggerate. “Why do you always turn up at just the right time, and never with good news?” Jocasta gave him the stare he remembered from years ago, maybe three of them now. “I wouldn’t have sought you out to tell you Princess Eithne was getting married.” Xander decided not to rise to it. “Seriously, my thanks for coming all this way and on foot, too.” “A cart was going my way, if you must know. But the last few leagues put a strain on my poor calves.” “Take them to market, did you?” he quipped. The look she sent him was decidedly sour. “Don’t think being in the tower will save her from the barracks. Word is Clara didn’t even know. That was down to Ephron.” “So, the wanderer returns?” “Apparently,” she said. “Though there are some as have their doubts.” “Jocasta, Jocasta. If I appea
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Isabel was dismayed to see the two piece costume which Queen Clara had ordered to be stitched specially for them to wear at the next gladiator contest. The top was designed to come away without too much trouble in a style called, “à la Rouen”.“It won’t make you a beauty,” the Dowager Queen had told her, rudely. “But then, nobody will be looking at your face.”As usual Ava leapt to her defence.“That was a mean thing to say, Your Majesty.”“One more word from you girl and you will be flogged beside Eithne. Where is my disgusting daughter these days? Whoring around, no doubt.”The two princesses exchanged worried glances. Megan seemed at a loss and so it was Becca who provided the distraction.“Yellow is such an ugly colour. I’m not wearing it, and that’s final.”“Very well, my dear. Do without. I’m sure a nubile young nude like you will raise many a staff.”“You must concede,” Isabel urged. “A horrible garment is better than nothing.”“Horrible, you say? Someone else appears to be itc
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Eithne supposed it could have been worse. They were still alive and down in the dungeon now. Guisset had been removed a short time ago and they could hear his agonised screams which soon stopped. When he returned, bloody and barely able to stand, even she felt pity for the state of his poor feet.“They call it the bastinado,” he told her in his broken Ormondian.“Speak Frankish, if it helps,” she urged. “I understand both.”“Yes, don’t mind me.”How could she have forgotten about her companion?“Sorry, Rowanne.”“Now, if it were Norse, I could just about get by. Let me examine that head wound.”But the mercenary brushed her aside.“I bleed easily. It’s worse than it looks.”The Princess interpreted his words for their companion’s benefit. That was when Eithne realised her time of the month had come and gone without even a trickle. She gasped aloud, feeling slightly sick.“Stay strong,” Rowanne said, eyeing her with sympathy. Let them think her squeamish. It was better than the alterna
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Eithne could hide nothing from Xander, nor did she want to, and especially not when it came to her condition. He was delighted and swept her off her feet, though with caution, adding after several kisses that they really ought to conclude their arrangement.Procrastination shouldn’t become a habit.She puzzled for a time until she translated that to mean wed sooner rather than later. Illegitimacy remained unspoken between them. While he had so often flaunted his, she knew it rankled more than he let on.They were still arguing about what form it should take and where. Ephron had disclosed that Genevieve was seeking an alliance for purposes of trade and defence. It seemed she had approached Louis, but he wasn’t interested in Beeveland, just its Queen. And marriage was definitely off the table as far as she was concerned.Eithne knew that didn’t mean there was hope for her brother. Or any man, including Halfdan who was probably unaware how she felt.But Xander’s sister was due for a st
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The lightning strike had done all the damage, and now Prince Connor Mac Neill lay dying in tremendous pain, one of his legs crushed beneath a fall of rocks. Despite what he had done, turning on them like that, Eithne saw to his comfort, staying with him until the end.Finn was devastated and Ava was nestled in his arms, sobbing openly. That was what death did, it made you remember the good times. In most cases.Though she tried her best, she could not find it in her to mourn her mother, the despised lover and the fake brother.It was an act of God. She would see to it they had a decent burial and that was all.King Ephron seemed to be recovering, as if disaster was making a man of him whereas the ability to do as he pleased had not. Genevieve may have had something to do with that. If he was enamoured that was his affair. Eithne knew Xander’s sister would never consent to be his.They were for Beeveland soon and she was looking forward to seeing the country of his birth. The conqueror
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There was a new hazard to be overcome once they were close to the fresh air. Xander pulled Eithne back just as she was on the point of exposing herself to the men surrounding the small boat.That gave him an idea. He knew she wouldn’t like it.“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you how much you love the realm,” he said, in a low voice which sounded mock serious even to his own ears.“I don’t understand.”“Trust me, you will. Well?”“It is my solemn duty to do anything to help the kingdom of Ormond.”“Thank the good Lord, I was hoping you would say that. You didn’t swear?”“Unlike the royal heir, it was enough that I made a promise to my father, the late King.”“I see. Now, I want you to do exactly as I say. Strip!”Her eyes widened.“Here? Now? But I thought – ”“As I suspected. A most disloyal subject,” he said. “Must I do everything myself, including undressing you?”“You failed before,” she pointed out, her violet eyes stormy.“This is a needs must situation,” he said, spinning h
The Conqueror's Royal Slave Chapter Seventy-Eight - Commitment
It wasn’t the most romantic of proposals yet it set her heart aflutter. Eithne gulped.“I will need to change my gown,” she said.“Princess, I didn’t mean now.”“Oh. Forget it then,” she snapped, and had to ask herself why.“I have no intention of doing so. In fact, letting you out of my sight is not an option either.” Xander took her hand. “Come with me to Beeveland,” he coaxed.“Now? Why?”“Not now. Once the affairs of Ormond are sorted.”“I fear that will never happen. Still, it would be good to get away and probably best for Genevieve if we do.”“What do you mean?”“Nothing,” she said, hastily.That crush on one of the Danes, blurted out impulsively after an excess of good local mead, needed nipping in the bud in her opinion. Halfdan was leaving anyway. She hadn’t meant to let the cat out of the bag, but Xander was nothing if not persistent in his questioning.“Genevieve has no sense of propriety,” he fumed.That was rich coming from him, a self-styled conqueror and enslaver. Eith
The Conqueror's Royal Slave Chapter Seventy-Seven - Duped
Xander hadn’t sued for peace so much as cheated in its name. He would do the same again, twice over, if it meant avoiding war. His betrothed had been taken aback by his tactics but he couldn’t afford to let her in on it; her surprise would go a long way to convincing this new enemy whose ego was legendary.Maybe some flowers would mollify her. He had treated her like a pawn and she was still sulking.Encountering his sister in the corridor he enlisted her help.Genevieve’s eyes danced with amusement.“Just be yourself. Spend some time with her. It’s all a girl ever wants. Gifts only make us think you want to atone.”But I do, he thought. For the way it all began.The Danes were preparing to depart, while Finn was now in charge of his brother’s forces.“Stay awhile,” he’d encouraged both the group of Norsemen and those loyal to a different Mac Neill.“Tell him,” Ava urged, nudging Connor’s brother.She was seldom far from his side these days.“We’d like to settle here permanently,” he
