Chapter 2

The priest stood nervously, mopping at the sweat coursing down his forehead. “Is it hot in here?” he asked, looking about him for confirmation on the subject. “I feel as though it is hot.”

It was warm. Unseasonably so. But that was not what was bothering the man. It was the unceasing arrows and the eerie sounds of a battering ram abutting our defenses that were making him feel thusly. 

Dressed in my finest lilac silk gown, I looked at the older man with a mix of pity and frustration. He was blind in one eye and could barely walk. Of course a siege would upset him. An unwavering allegiance to God or not, this was no game we were playing at. Everyone could feel the enemy breathing down our necks. Soon it would be more than our defenses we had to worry about. It may be our lives we laid forfeit in this endless battle of empires we were unlucky enough to be caught up in. 

“Proceed,” Carrion spat from between clenched teeth.

“I seemed to have forgotten my bible,” the priest babbled, searching about as though it would somehow materialize out of thin air.

“Recite the vows from memory then,” Carrion pressed, his clammy hand crushing mine. “The abbreviated version will do.”

The abbreviated version, indeed! The man was a fool. Instead of trying to force me into his bed, he should have been trying to force the enemy from our lands. Figure out his next defensive move. But that would have been the smart thing to do. And nobody had ever accused my fiancé of being smart.

“I…, do you. I mean, have you…,”

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Carrion swore as I tore my hand from his. “How many marriages have you performed, old man? Surely you can remember enough of the words to finish the job!”

It didn’t matter. I would not submit or speak a single word in response to seal the union. Carrion was right about one thing. Men were conquerors. But women, we were life-long warriors. And I had only just begun to fight. Sometimes the most brutal of battles were waged with words. Or, in this case, silence.

From the windows of the church, I could see tiny orange geysers springing up in the courtyard. The Normans were volleying flaming arrows over our gates in hopes of burning our dwindling spring rations. They must have landed on something flammable like a hayloft or wooden structure because they’d caught and were now being snuffed out by the terrified servants. Who knew what manner of depravities would be next?

“Yes, yes, of course,” the clergyman assented, his head bobbing up and down like a drowning duck. Droplets of sweat dotted his limp collar. “Do you, Elsbet, take this man…” 

The priest’s troubled voice droned on, but I couldn’t hear him. My thoughts were too loud. My eyes swept the church. Those few souls present held the same fearful expressions as rats caught in a trap awaiting what came next.

My maid, Myriam, lovingly tucked a long, dark strand of hair behind my ear. “You need to say yes, my dear,” she coached in her soft, motherly voice.

No, I didn’t. Like the siege outside our gates, I needed to wait this assault out until I could strategize my next steps. Agreeing to this farce didn’t accomplish anything other than tying a noose around my neck. And I had no intention of willingly signing up for that. 

Carrion dug his fingers into my scalp and tugged my hair hard. My head snapped back and his beaky nose crushed against mine. “Say. Yes. Elsbet!” Spittle from his mouth flicked onto my lips and I turned my head in disgust.

“Never!” I stubbornly rasped.

Carrion dragged me over to the front pews of the church. Stopping at the one my family had worshipped from, he furiously bent me over the wooden backrest. 

“Say yes or you’ll regret it!” He threatened.

“Go to hell!” I returned, the wind knocked clean out of my chest as he crushed his weight down upon me. The priest gasped with shock at my blasphemy. 

“Fine,” Carrion relented. “If you don’t agree, I shall be forced not to take you as my wife.”

Relief shot through my veins until he followed up with his next words.

“I won’t take you as my wife, Elsbet. I’ll take you as my whore! I don’t need your agreement for that.”

“Milord,” the priest weakly intervened, “perhaps the lady just needs a moment. It’s not uncommon for brides to become overwhelmed on their wedding day. Mayhap,” but he shut his mouth when Carrion sent him a murderous glare.

Forcing the threat of his erection against my backside, my former fiancé demanded, “What shall it be, milady? Do you wish to be my wife, and do this in the privacy of our bedchamber? Or, do you wish to be my whore, and do it right here in front of my men? Tis your choice. I care not what you decide. I get what I want either way.”

My eyes darted to the group of Carrion’s men standing by the chapel door. One of them licked his lips in anticipation of such a show. Another laughed and whispered something into a third’s ear. He proceeded to rub his hand between his legs, shifting the bulge there to one side.

Feeling as though I was going to be sick, I struggled against Carrion’s grip. But my efforts were in vain. Though a petite man, the lord was far stronger than he appeared. 

He ground his stiff cock against me and I shrieked. I’d been so worried about the invaders outside the keep, that I’d never given a moment’s thought about those within it.

Myriam was at the man’s side now, begging for him to stop this insanity. “Please, milord! Don’t hurt her! She’s to be your wife. You don’t want to do this.”

Carrion’s hand snaked out and cruelly lashed the crying woman in the face. “Silence!” he barked, desperately trying to untie the band that kept his breeches up. “If the little bitch doesn’t want this to happen, she knows what she must do.”

Myriam whimpered helplessly from the floor. The sound near broke my heart. But it did not break my will. I could not be swayed. I’d made my choice. I’d prefer a few minutes of pain over a lifetime’s worth as Carrion’s wife.

Grunting with anticipation, the lord managed to free the knot that kept him from his goal. From the corner of my eye, I could see his soldiers’ feet inch closer. Their breathing was audible now. Their excitement, palpable. They wanted front-row seats to this sinful act and they were not shy about attaining them.

Carrion leaned down, whispering into my ear, “Perhaps I’ll let them each have a turn when I’m done, Elsbet. Show you that you’re no longer the lady of the keep. That your place is beneath me, and not above.” He laughed, a high-pitched kind of sound. “I bet you won’t be so dismissive of me then. I bet you’ll beg for my cock in that arrogant cunt of yours after that!”

Hand fumbling beneath my skirt, Carrion yanked the fabric over my back. Cool air rushed up to greet my naked flesh. Thin fingers reached between my legs and roughly probed my center. 

Panic-stricken, I began to fight anew. Unfortunately, my struggles, like wounded bait on a hook, excited my fiancé and our audience all the more.

Having now freed his member from his chausses, Carrion kicked apart my legs and lined himself up to my entrance. I could hear the priest chanting a desperate Our Father and Myriam sobbing for mercy. His men, however, were egging him on. Encouraging him to “fuck” the fight of me. 

The doors to the chapel opened then and a second group of soldiers entered. The room stilled and all hushed.

“What is the meaning of this?” A man’s deep voice angrily demanded.

Carrion relaxed his hold on me. I scuttled out of his reach and across the floor into Myriam’s open arms. These were my father’s men. And they outnumbered my fiancé’s two to one. 

“Tis my wedding day,” Carrion snarked, fumbling to tuck his softening member back inside his breeches. “And you’re not invited, Tanner.”

My father’s most loyal man took in the state of my rumpled gown and tousled hair. “Twould seem to me you have forgotten the order of things, milord. The wedding comes before the wedding night.”

“Watch yourself,” Carrion warned. “This keep will be mine by the end of the day. And I have no need for men who aren’t loyal.”

Tanner walked over to me and reached out his warm hand. Without hesitation, I placed my smaller one into it. Lifting me as though I weighed no more than the six-year-old child he used to chase around the courtyard, he steadied my wavering legs.

“I’ve bad news,” he addressed the room. “We’ve just received a missive from Lord Farnsworth. The man isn’t coming. He’s just pledged his fidelity and troops to the new king. I’m afraid we’re on our own.”

I felt the walls of the church suddenly fold in on me. “How long until they get in?” I rasped.

“A day. Maybe two.”

“But Bailliot is impenetrable!” Carrion choked out, shock and terror illuminating his pale face.

“Nothing is impenetrable, milord,” Tanner refuted, echoing my thoughts from earlier. “Bailliot will fall. It is only a matter of when. Not if.”