And then there was him.
The young man with hair like a Viking. The moment Anna had seen him the most ridiculous idea had jumped into her head—a most ridiculous, yet dangerously compelling idea …
That man is desperate. A man like that would surely do anything to regain his freedom. Marry him.
Marry a slave?
Yes! Marriage with a man such as this, a desperate man, will be your means of escaping marriage with Lord Romanos. Once it is done, you can give the slave his freedom. You will never have to see him again and Lord Romanos will not touch you when he learns you have married a slave.
I cannot marry a complete stranger! And yet …
The idea would not leave her.
AUTHOR NOTE
For me, the word Byzantium conjures images of an exotic medieval empire. It carries with it an aura of magic. Byzantium … I loved learning about it at university, and enthusiastic teachers ensured that Byzantium lost none of its shimmer.
These books bring Byzantium alive:
Byzantium, the Surprising Life of a Medieval Empire by Judith Herrin (Penguin, 2008)
Byzantium by Robin Cormack and Maria Vassilaki (Royal Academy of Arts, 2008)
Fourteen Byzantine Rulers by Michael Psellus (Penguin, 1966)
The Alexiad of Anna Komnene translated by E.R.A. Sewter (Penguin, 1969)
Names can be tricky. Without being too rigid, I have used Greek versions of names where possible, and in a couple of cases I have shortened the names of real people.
About the Author
CAROL TOWNEND has been making up stories since she was a child. Whenever she comes across a tumbledown building, be it castle or cottage, she can’t help conjuring up the lives of the people who once lived there. Her Yorkshire forebears were friendly with the Brontë sisters. Perhaps their influence lingers …
Carol’s love of ancient and medieval history took her to London University, where she read History, and her first novel (published by Mills & Boon) won the Romantic Novelists’ Association’s New Writers’ Award. Currently she lives near Kew Gardens, with her husband and daughter. Visit her website at www.caroltownend.co.uk
Previous novels by the same author:
THE NOVICE BRIDE
AN HONOURABLE ROGUE
HIS CAPTIVE LADY
RUNAWAY LADY, CONQUERING LORD
HER BANISHED LORD
BOUND TO THE BARBARIAN*
*Part of Palace Brides trilogy
Look for the final instalment in
Carol Townend’s
Palace Brides mini-series BETROTHED TO THE BARBARIAN in August 2012
Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
Chained To
The Barbarian
Carol Townend
With love to my sister, Jillie.
And many thanks to my editor, Megan.
Her many creative suggestions and insights
make her a pleasure to work with.
Chapter One
William gritted his teeth—he would not lose consciousness. Dark waves threatened to block his vision, his head was pounding from the beating they had given him, but he was not going to lose consciousness.
The children were huddled at his feet. Thus far, neither Daphne nor Paula had been put up for sale. Nor had he. Not that anyone was likely to buy him in his current battered state. William was not generally a praying man, but he was praying now. God grant that we are not separated. If he and the girls were kept together, he could protect them for a little longer. Lord. Two tiny girls, and they only had him, an enslaved knight, to watch over them. William knew firsthand what it was like to feel abandoned at an early age. And these mites were even younger than he had been when … no matter, what had happened to him was nothing compared with what these children were suffering. They were too young to fend for themselves.
William could not bring their mother back to life but, if humanly possible, he would help them.
Something thudded into William’s back. The butt of a spear. As he stumbled on to the auction block, more darkness swept over him. His chains rattled, hobbling him at the ankles, weighing heavy at his wrists. The darkness was all but impenetrable, he could hardly see. It looked as though twilight was gathering, but surely evening could not have come so soon? He would have sworn it was not yet noon …
William fought to stay on his feet as he fought to keep his wits about him. This was combat, a combat that was as challenging as any he had faced and he must not fail. The children need me.
There was buzzing in his ears. A number of black splotches were flying about the auction hall, like crows in a cornfield. William knew what that meant—any moment he could topple like a felled poplar. His limbs were heavy as lead and his movements, as he mounted the dais, were slow. His head throbbed. His vision cleared a little to reveal Paula and Daphne in front of him on the platform, clutching each other. Paula’s eyes were huge, her face white. Both girls were half-starved, that went without saying, but William had learned that in the diminished world of the slave, lack of food was one of the lesser evils. His lip curled. The miscreant who was trying to sell them considered that half-starving a slave was merely one way of controlling him. Or her. He concentrated on the children, praying to be sold alongside them. Paula must be what—about two years of age? And Daphne was only a babe. He blinked to rid himself of the black splotches, bile was bitter at the back of his throat. And to think he had thought his early life harsh. Lord.
A lock of blond hair fell into his eyes. When he shook it aside, pain shot to his temples, there was rushing in his ears. Meanwhile, fury sat like acid in his stomach, burning, burning. I should not be here. This is the slave market at Constantinople and I am up for sale. A knight on an auction block. Jesu, what has the world come to?
Grimly, William forced himself to take stock of his surroundings.
The auction block was a raised dais in the centre of a covered market that was packed with people. Stone pillars held up the roof. With something of a lurch, William realised why the torches had not been lit. It wasn’t twilight, far from it. Sunlight was streaming through Romanesque arches, bright shafts jabbed like hot knives into his brain. The darkness had been conjured by his exhausted mind, by his beaten body. The citizens of Constantinople were jostling each other, talking and laughing as they pressed up to the dais. They were narrowing their eyes as they stared at the children. At him. As William understood it, slavery was common here at the heart of the Empire.
This was the second time William had