He stood and strode over to Aneira, and unhooked her leash. "Up, walk slave. And keep up. I don't have time to dawdle along while you crawl."
Her knees were stiff as she stood and she almost fell backwards but he caught her upper arm and held her steady. He was still fully dressed aside from the gloves and cap, a sword still belted at his hip, but the top buttons of his jacket and fine white shirt were opened – she could see the beginnings of a well-muscled chest beneath.
He tidied himself up and buttoned the jacket to the neck with one hand as he walked. She followed at a trot a few paces behind as the butler lead them through the halls. He was tense and busy, and she really didn't want to anger him in this mood.
Rogers meet them as they came down the stairs towards the entrance hall.
"What happened?"
"Sir, eight men, lightly armed, they were caught attempting to cross the lawns. We had them all before they were within a hundred yards of the house."
"Why on Earth did this warrant disturbing me? You have caught some thieves, Rogers, hand them to the local authorities. I'm going to bed. I thought better of you than this, Rogers."
"No sir, not thieves. That is why I called for you sir. They are some of her people sir."
"I apologise. You were right to come and get me."
At the foot of the stairs she could see figures. A dozen or so men dressed like Rogers stood over the bound figures of eight slighter men. They were lined up in the tiled hall, some clearly injured. There was blood streaked from the main doors where they had been dragged across the floor. She studied the faces of each of the men. She couldn't restrain the gasp that followed when she reached the third face in the line.
"What is it girl, upset by the blood?" He turned sneering, but seeing hers his face broke in cruel understanding. "Oh no, it isn't the blood that has upset you is it." He followed her gaze and turned back to her, looking wicked. Without looking back he called to the men behind him. "Have the blonde third in from the left brought to my library, lock the others away." And turning to the butler: "I want plastic sheeting on the floor and all of the carpets rolled away." The man scurried off. "We shall find out what he means to you, pet. You clearly mean enough for him to come on this fool's errand to retrieve you."
He enjoyed the despair that she was unable to hide in those pretty eyes. This could work out very nicely. The lad meant something to her and he did not intend to waste that. He headed off, gesturing for Rogers to follow, two large soldiers, dragging the man between them, bringing up the rear.
The fireplace room had been rearranged remarkably quickly. All or the rugs were gone and the furniture pushed back to reveal an expanse of polished floorboards. Where the hearthrug had been there was now a thick layer of plastic sheeting, extending several yards in every direction. She pushed from her mind any thoughts about the mess from which he might want to protect his things.
The man was dumped unceremoniously on the sheet, a soldier holding each arm, forcing him up onto his knees. His head was lifted roughly. His eyes met hers.
"Aneira! Aneira we were sure you would be here, we came to get you out!"
She tried to convey that he should stop, imploring him with her eye, but one of the soldiers silenced him with a heavy punch to the jaw at a gesture from the general.
He rounded on her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look him in the eyes rather than at the man's swelling split lip and the blood dribbling down his chin.
"You will tell me who he is."
She staggered back, collapsing to the floor, sobbing and shaking her head.
"Rogers fetch me the trunk under the window will you?"
Rogers heaved the thing over, and the general rummaged, bringing out a strong pair of shears. He held them in front of her face and called to the soldiers "hold out one of his hands for me, the right. Let's see if he is still up for rescue attempts with a few fewer fingers.
"No!" She pleaded, tears coming fast. She grabbed his boot and pulled herself up to her knees, gripping the hem of his jacket, she begged him. "No, please, please don't. He didn't know what he was getting into, he isn't a threat to you, I'll explain, just please stop." This was no time for pride, she grovelled and begged and meant it.
He bent down to her, caressing her face and holding her into his broad chest, quietly handing the shears to Rogers. He held her like one might a frightened child, encouraging her to associate him with comfort and protection.
"Shhh, shhh now, come on, I've got you, there's nothing to be afraid of. Tell me what you know, pet, be good now." There was still more than a hint of a threat, but she didn't care. He'd force it from her if she resisted, she simply wanted it to be over.
Pulling her away from his chest he dried her eyes on his handkerchief before pulling her onto his lap, still cradling her trembling body. She looked up at the bloodied man but couldn't bear to meet his eyes.
"He's a young lord, from my father's court. He knows nothing of war. He can't have known..." She trailed off.
"Yes, that much I guessed pet, but who is he specifically, and what does he mean to you?"
"Telor. He... We... We were engaged to be married before the war."
"And he means a great deal to you?"
"Yes, Lord." She trembled all the more as she said it but there was no point denying what he already knew.
"And she clearly meant enough for you to lose your wits and break into my grounds?" He had raised his voice and was speaking to Telor. He gave no answer, refusing to look at either of them.
"Break the little finger on his right hand" he said turning to one of his soldiers. The crack sickened her. She barely heard his pained yells as she turned back to the general in horror.
"But lord you said you wouldn't..." How could she have been so stupid as to let him trick her?
"No, my dear I said I wouldn't cut them off, and I haven't. I didn't lie to you. He will heal. I cannot, however, allow him to ignore a direct question without some consequence."
"Will you answer me now young lord?" he sneered, "do you care for my little slave?"
"More than my life" he spat, without looking up.
"Well that much is obvious. You were stupid to come. You were stupid to join with those rebels. Your plan had no hope of success. You have thrown your life away."
He gestured for the man to be taken away, and carried her gently from the room. Rogers held the door at the far end for him and he slipped into the cool of his bedroom. The girl could take nothing more tonight, but he was more than satisfied with her progress. He pulled back the covers of his bed and laid her down, cuffing her hands together in front of her and securing the leash to the headboard. One could never be too careful. He had no intentions of waking up to find her about to slit his throat with a letter opener.
He undressed and had a quick cold shower in his personal bathroom, glad to be free of the heavy wool of his uniform. When he returned he found that she was where he had left her, curled slightly, and with some of the coves pulled back over her. He climbed into bed beside her and pulled her gently to his chest to wrap her little body in his. She allowed this without complaint. He wrapped his arms around her and entwined one leg with hers. She flinched, she didn't want him, but she was far too drained to resist. He fell asleep thinking that this was an excellent start after barely more than a day.
*****************************
He woke early, there was a lot to be done, but he was careful not to wake her. It was deeply concerning that the rebels could do anything at all so close to the capital, even if it was a tiny raid with no chance of success. They could not be working in isolation, and he needed to know who. He had people within their ranks but they hadn't reported anything of this sort. It was a problem.
He cleared his desk, pulled a laptop from the top drawer and set about eliminating and circling possibilities from lists of all bodies active in the area. What he really needed was to know where they were hauled up, and then he could simply eliminate them from 18,000 feet. A plan was forming. He wrote a short message to one of his agents in their ranks. He messaged his butler for breakfast and coffee. Thinking it through he sent a second message telling him to bring a hell of a lot of very strong coffee. Dawn was breaking. He had already been up for an hour and it must have been three before he got to bed.
A small pile of pastries and fruit arrived along with a large pot of coffee. He poured himself a mug and swigged it before walking over to his bed to wake her. He released her hands and removed the leash from her collar, brushing the hair from eyes. What a mess she looked with thick, black eye make-up streaked down her cheeks – still pretty though. He kissed her and murmured that it was time to wake up. She recoiled away when she opened her eyes.
"No, girl, don't fuss. I won't hurt you unless you give me cause to. It's time to get up, there's breakfast. Do you promise to behave better this morning?" He spoke softly, as if to a flighty horse. She nodded and stood up from the bed, dropping to her knees. "No sweet, you don't need to crawl. You've been very well behaved so you may walk."
"Thank you lord." She kicked herself for allowing him to treat walking as a privilege, but was far too drained to do anything but what she was told. She felt it all: the loss of her brothers, the aches, the humiliations, and now the capture of her lover.
When she reached the desk, he pulled her onto his lap and fed her from his plate, allowing her sips of coffee, holding the cup to her lips. When they were done, he rested her head on his shoulder and stroked her hair as he continued to work.
One of his servants, May, accompanied by one of his more physically imposing looking guards, took the girl away to wash and tidy her. He called for Rogers, rubbing sleep from his eyes. There was a knock and he called for the man to enter.
