His Judas Bride

Chapter 8

Kara fingered the iron door handle. Even though she wilted with hunger and exhaustion and had sat in a chair all night, reciting her mantra--life was a series of steps to a particular destination. She was happy with the ones she was taking--she squared her shoulders. Ice and stone. Steps and life.

Despite what had happened the previous day, and she was the first to concede it was quite a lot, today was today. Today was time yet to be spent. She would begin spending that time and making herself an even better person, by firstly opening this door. Then having done so, taking the steps she was now happy with taking. Sucking a deep breath she edged the handle round. She wouldn't want anyone seeing her after all.

"Grrrrrrrrr."

My God, what the hell was that bloody awful racket? Her father's dogs here in this place? Already?

"Grrrrrrrr. Grrrrrr."

Having leapt sideways, she flattened herself against the wall.

"Grrr."

Actually why the hell would her father's dogs be here? He couldn't know her plans. She didn't know her plans. No. There was only one thing it could be.Had it been there all night?

For a second she stared at the floor. That damn man didn't trust her any more than her father did. Thank God she hadn't actually tried to run because if she had it would now be on bloody stumps to her particular destination. Great.

If she could slip back to her own glen—let's face it, the Wolf would be dancing a jig. Would he even bother to raise the alarm? Especially in this weather? If she could bargain with him, she would. Maybe the Wolf would be amenable to letting her get on with things? Maybe even put it about that she was still here, on condition she wasn't and she left his clan alone too? Was the Moon made of tartan cheese though?No. These were steps she would not be happy taking. How could she be, if they led to a cut throat? And they would. Then she would not be happy at all.

She slipped her belt off.The net was closing about her. Serenne and Jennet and the other women in her father's dungeons, would tell her to deal with that dog. Serenne would tell her how to do it too. Well?

"Here … nice … " She moistened her lips. What the hell was it exactly? She'd thought dog because it obviously wasn't a horse, or a wolf, but it didn't look like any dog she'd ever seen. Sound like one either. "Doggie." She jingled the belt over its misshapen head anyway. "That's it. Here boy. Nice …"

The snarl said not. But at least, thank her stars, its claws scraped the flags. It was moving.

"That's it. Good, good—"

She swallowed the gulp and the shriek of God, as she flew off her feet. She'd meant it to grab the end of the belt so she could tug it inside the room. What she never meant was it to tug her. Back. Forward. Forward again. After nearly toppling over, so she could hardly stand upright too.So she prayed that anyone chancing by would think she was playing with it. A game that involved her having to dig her heels in to avoid being flung into the fireplace and her arms being forcibly yanked from their sockets. My God. Now what?

Let go of the belt and she'd be attacked. Keep hold of the belt and she'd be attacked if this thing let it go. Then she'd have to explain to the Wolf what she thought she was doing. She'd look bloody awful trying to look appealing to Ewen McDunnagh with bite marks on her body. What if this thing was rabid?It bit her and then she started foaming at the mouth? The one she was struggling to keep shut, to mask the awful sounds that were in danger of coming out of it.Serenne had made this look so easy. Like everything else in her life she tried it and look at the result. Why was this?

She shot a glance over her shoulder at the open chamber door. If she edged into the deserted hall and shut the door on this thing, she could bolt.

Ice and stone. Steps and happiness. She was a good person, remember.

Her heart pounding like a smithy's hammer, she inched a step backwards. Then another. Her mouth dried as she fumbled with the cold edge of the door handle.

The belt pinged as she let it go and she yanked the door shut. Thank God. Now to reach the other door, the one across the flagstones at the far side of the hall. The silence of various graves lay on the place. Not a fire was being raked. Not a cup clinked. Now wasn't the time to wonder why though. She crept swiftly forward, holding her skirt clear of the flagstones.

This iron handle was bigger, colder and heavier than her chamber one, but the door opened easily. Thank God times two. One tug and a gust of cold fresh air blasted in. At long last the fates were with her.

"Son of a—"

The gust of fresh air was not all that blew in. As the knife juddered into the jamb inches from her nose, she froze. Indeed she half expected her nose to land on the ground with a thud. First that thing at her door. Now this. Did the Wolf plan to kill her outright? Standing in her way like this, it was himself he was damaging if he only knew it. She needed to escape. She needed to escape now. Before this went further. And she was forced to lead her father's men here.

"Careful, Princess."

What did he think she was being?That she chose to have her nose removed because she wanted to see what she'd look like without one? Forget belief, sometimes the stupidity of men beggared disbelief.