Chained to the Barbarian. Carol Townend

lead mercenary spat. Another swore in a language that William did not understand. There was another backwards step, and another, and moments later all three had melted into the street round the corner of the building.

      Warily, William turned. Lady Anna’s hair was tumbled down about her shoulders, she had lost her hair pins as well as her veil, but thank God he could see no bruises.

      ‘My lady—’ Commander Ashfirth was frowning down the side street ‘—where is Katerina?’

       Katerina? Who the devil is Katerina?

      Lady Anna’s mouth opened and shut, and the Commander gave her a little shake. ‘My lady?’

      ‘You … you know?’ Lady Anna said, all colour leached from her face.

      The Commander nodded and shook her again. ‘The time for pretence is over. Where is Katerina?’

      William frowned and stepped closer, he did not like the way the Commander was handling her. And why was he asking about Katerina? Surely he should be worried about the Princess? If William had guessed correctly, this man was the Princess’s lover. Who was Katerina?

      Lady Anna met William’s gaze. ‘She is safe. In Hagia Irene.’

      ‘Thank God!’ The Commander’s relief was obvious. He looked at William. ‘You there, slave!’

      William did not lower his guard. ‘Yes?’

      ‘You will look after Lady Anna?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Time is short,’ the Commander said.

      ‘I understand.’ Lady Anna smiled at the Varangian. ‘You had to know she was safe.’

      Commander Ashfirth nodded. ‘Do you trust this Frank?’

      Lady Anna and William looked at one another.

      ‘I will be safe with him,’ Lady Anna said, her gaze flickering briefly to William’s sword. ‘Go back to your men, Commander.’

      The Commander gazed coolly at William. ‘You are to protect Lady Anna with your life. Take her back to the women’s quarters in the Palace. Understand?’

      Nodding, William held out his hand. ‘I understand.’

      Lady Anna moved towards him and Commander Ashfirth turned and sprinted round the monument towards his men.

      The sunlight shone in Lady Anna’s hair, it was glorious in its disarray. Her hand when it met William’s was trembling and her breath was shaky, but she was safe.

      Another whoop came from the side street, it was followed by the unmistakable sound of swords being banged on shields. Scare tactics. Lord, it looked as though Lady Anna was not quite as safe as William had hoped.

      Her hand jerked free and she pointed. ‘Look!’

      Two of the mercenaries had returned, they were marching towards them, screeching like demons as they beat their sword hilts on their shields.

      ‘Holy Mother!’ Bundling Lady Anna behind him, William braced himself.

      With only two mercenaries, the odds were turning in his favour.

      The mercenaries nodded at each other, it must have been a signal, because one of them rushed at him headlong. He was over-confident and had little finesse. A butcher. As their swords clashed, the jolt sent black pain shooting up William’s arm. He grunted and parried the next stroke easily. He might be out of condition, but they had barely engaged and already the mercenary was breathing hard. Too much wine, William suspected. Too much chasing after innocent women.

      He parried half-a-dozen more strokes, feeling his way into the man’s weaknesses, of which there were many. The other mercenary must be as drunk as the butcher, for he made no move to come to his comrade’s aid, instead, each slash of the butcher’s sword was accompanied with an unholy whoop and a thud on his shield. The strokes were wild, uneven. Slice, crash, hack, crash—like beats in in a devil’s chorus.

      It took only moments for William to begin to enjoy himself. It had been too long since he had held a sword and it was invigorating to realise that he had not lost his touch. This man was not his match. William was just through the warming-up stage—he no longer felt shooting pains with each clash of steel—when the mercenary overreached himself. William made a swift, decisive thrust and the man clattered to the ground. His shield rolled to the side, blood seeped across the paving.

      Behind him, Lady Anna whimpered and the devil’s chorus fell silent. The second mercenary stared at his comrade, eyes bulging.

      William picked up the shield and beckoned. ‘Come on, don’t be shy, it’s your turn. I could use more practise.’

      The man had eyes as dead as his comrade’s. His lip curled, he muttered something incomprehensible and retreated back the way he had come.

      There was movement behind him. ‘I … I thank you, William.’ Lady Anna’s cheeks were bloodless, she looked to be in shock as she watched him clean his sword on the dead man’s chausses. It was a pity she had had to witness death at close hand, but William had had no choice.

      ‘Come, my lady, we must hurry, there may be other mercenaries about. Which way?’ That terrible screaming had started again, William gritted his teeth. ‘Which way?’

      Her smoky grey eyes were wide with alarm. ‘Do you think he went for reinforcements?’

      ‘It is possible. Which way?’

      She seemed held by panic and waved vaguely at the wall of the Great Palace. The domes of the Palace buildings were visible behind it. ‘The Palace is too far, we might not make it.’

      Shaking his head, William slung the mercenary’s shield over his shoulder. With the sword firmly in one hand, he took hers in the other. Tugging her after him, he ducked behind the myrtle bushes and ran along the side of the building. The myrtle bushes were good cover. He stopped abruptly at the corner. A small structure resembling a storehouse stood a few feet away. There was no window, just a stumpy wooden door with fat hinges. He frowned doubtfully at it. It could almost be a prison cell.

      Releasing Lady Anna, he handed her the shield and shouldered open the door. Inside, it was dark as night, he could see nothing. Behind them came the tramp of heavy boots.

       ‘William!’

      With a final glance at the sky, William bent his head and pulled her into the dark. Prison or not, this was the only hiding place. He had to be realistic. He could not fight an entire troop—if he were killed, who would protect Lady Anna?

      It was ice cold inside, in an instant his skin was covered in goosebumps. The dim outline of a great cavern opened up before them, it was large enough to house a cathedral. William halted, staring in disbelief. He could smell water.