The men jumped back.
“What is it? It is a weasel!”
“Mayhap it is a devil’s familiar.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Hastings said, all the contempt and scorn she could muster in her voice, for she didn’t want Trist to be harmed. “He is
a marten and a pet. Trist come here.”
««v -,-
Trist ran to her, climbed her gown, and settled himself on her shoulder. He raised a paw toward Severin. “It’s all right, Trist. Severin will be all right. Just stay with me.”
Trist turned and rubbed his whiskers against her chin.
De Luci said, “Hastings, you may ride your own palfrey. Let us go.”
They left the Oxborough men lying unconscious.
When Severin regained consciousness a short time later, he found himself tied facedown over his war-horse, his hands bound behind him. De Luci saw he was conscious immediately and merely raised his hand to acknowledge him.
“You may remain thus for a while, my lord. It should give you a taste of humility.” Then he laughed. “No, I won’t kill you, at least not yet. You
have your uses, my lord. Marjorie told me that Hastings was a bitch. I told Marjorie I would have you ready at hand to torture if Hastings did not perform as I bade her.”
He reined in beside Hastings. He was still laughing.
“You are pathetic,” she said, staring between Marella’s ears.
He was silent in an instant. He said very slowly, with utter calm, “What did you say to me?”
“I said,” she repeated, turning now to face him, “that you are pathetic. You keep your distance, have one of your men strike him down, you tie him to his horse, and now you laugh because he is helpless. I doubt you would ever want to face Severin by yourself. He would kill you very quickly, for you are naught but a puking coward.”
De Luci’s face was suffused with rage, then slowly, very slowly, even as his eyes became utterly black, his face paled to white. “Oh yes, Marjorie said you were a bitch,” he said slowly. “I told her that I could control you. It was just a matter of knowing what to do and the exact moment to do it.” He raised his hand and slapped her hard across her cheek, nearly knocking her off Marella. Trist mewled loudly, barely hanging on.
He saw it in her eyes and yelled at his man, “Ibac, hold her!”
She was lurching out of her saddle, ready to throw herself on de Luci, when a huge hand grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She moaned with the pain of it, then shut her mouth, furious with herself that she had made a sound. She was panting hard. “I will get you, you miserable whoreson.”
He didn’t hit her again. She saw from the corner of her eye that he was stroking his short beard with his gloved hand.
The rest of de Luci’s men were silent. Finally, the man Ibac said low to Hastings, “You would have thrown yourself upon him had I not stopped you. You have no weapon, you are naught but a woman. Lord Richard is a man of violent and unpredictable actions. He could smile at you one moment and stick a knife in your ribs in the next. He is as calm as a monk, then strikes out like a wild man. I do not understand you.”
?!
4
Hastings smiled at the man Ibac. “I see that you speak in a near whisper. You fear this madman?”
“I did not say he was mad,” Ibac said, his tongue flicking over his dry mouth. “Nay, never mad. It is simply not wise to anger him. Take care, lady.”
De Luci called a halt just as twilight was darkening to night. The men moved quickly about their tasks.
“Untie him,” Hastings said, as she moved to stand beside Severin.
De Luci nodded. “He is sly. Do not let him out of your sight. It matters not that he is bound. Tie him to the tree yon and two of you remain close to watch him.”
Severin thought his stomach would heave out his guts. He stood very still for a moment, regaining his balance and a calm belly. He drew in deep breaths.