Page 24

“The south side of the maze.” Sanchia moistened her lips with her tongue as she peered through the tall iron gates.

She could clearly discern the tall holly hedge looming fortresslike in the distance.

She hadn’t expected the maze to be so large, stretching at least three hundred feet in length and ninety feet in width, the hedges themselves rising to a height of more than nine feet.

“I suppose I should go now.” She cast a glance at Lion but his expression was impassive in the moonlight.

She opened the gate. “You’ll be here? You won’t leave me? ”

“We’ll be here.” Lion’s hand clenched on one of the iron bars of the gate.

She drew a deep breath and then turned and followed Maria in the direction of the maze.

Lion stood watching her until she disappeared beyond the corner of shrubbery.

“She has courage,” Marco said, his gaze following Lion’s.

“Yes.”

Marco shifted restlessly. “I have no liking for this Lion. Sending a woman into danger while we merely stand by—”

“Do you think I do?” Lion’s tone was savage. “But she’s the only person now who can bring me the key that will give us the Wind Dancer.”

Marco fell silent and the minutes stretched on. “It’s a great service she does us. How will you reward her if she does bring you the key?”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me she was a slave. Will you free her? It seems a fair—”

“No!”

Surprised at the violence in Lion’s response, Marco asked, “Why not? You have no liking for slavery. You refused to have slaves at Mandara. Surely it’s—” He stopped as comprehension dawned on him. “You use her in your bed.”

“Is that so surprising?”

“No.” Marco studied his brother, anxiety growing within him.

He was aware that Lion was never celibate when he was away from Mandara, and he had known many of the women Lion had bedded.

Without exception they had been knowledgeable in the ways of carnal pleasure and as invulnerable and cynical as Lion himself.

Courtesans, bored wives looking for distractions, widows ripe and willing to enjoy the bed sport of which they’d been deprived.

Never had there been a woman as vulnerable and young as Sanchia, and never had Lion’s response been violent at the idea of parting with a leman.

“You’re not—” He stopped. Dio , he had no right to ask this and yet he felt compelled.

He began again, “You’re not going to take her to Mandara? ”

“No.”

Relief poured through Marco, followed immediately by a twinge of guilt. “It’s not that I don’t wish you to have everything you want, Lion. It’s simply—”

“I know.” Lion’s gaze wearily shifted from the maze to his brother’s face. “Don’t worry, nothing has changed, Marco.”

Marco had an uneasy feeling that a good many things had changed since Lion had gone to Florence to find his thief, but he preferred to accept Lion’s words as truth.

“Perhaps you could place Sanchia in a fine house in Pisa. Since you’ve acquired this passion for shipbuilding, you spend more time in Pisa than Mandara anyway. It would be a solution to—”

“Suppose we worry about solutions to other problems after we have the Wind Dancer back,” Lion cut in as his gaze returned to the maze. “The Wind Dancer is all that’s important right at this moment.”

The false key had been exchanged for the key to the storehouse. Now Sanchia had only to return the key ring to Rodrigo’s belt.

Only? Panic swept through her at the thought of leaving the comparative safety of the haven in the bushes across from the maze and venturing out once again to complete her task.

She had been unusually lucky to be able to quickly, quietly take the key ring and carry it away into the shrubbery to make the switch.

Only the fact that Rodrigo had been occupied with pulling the teasing Maria into the maze had made it possible to whisk it from his belt, but it would be madness to believe it would be as easy to replace it.

A shout of laughter followed by a squeal interrupted her thoughts and she turned toward the labyrinth to see the other guard once again mounting the whore with the bronze-dyed hair.

It was senseless to linger in the bushes cowering with fear. Rodrigo was still in the maze. She had no choice but to go after him. She tucked the key ring in her belt and drew her cloak more closely around her shoulders as she stepped boldly from the protection of the shrubbery into the moonlight.

“Ho, there you are.” Rodrigo Estaban strolled out of the maze, carrying the jug of wine Maria had given him.

She froze. Had he discovered the keys were gone?

He lifted the jug to his lips and drank deeply before lowering the jug. “You shouldn’t have run away. I have enough for both of you. I’m from Spain, where they grow us men as strong as bulls.” He gestured toward the maze. “I left your friend so tired she was barely able to swing her hips.”

Sanchia quickly lowered her lashes to hide her relief. “I was waiting.” She walked toward him. “I didn’t want to get in your way.”

“I want you in my way. I’ve always liked redheads.

” He took a step forward. “Show me your breasts. I want to see how you compare with Maria.” He didn’t wait for her to show him but grasped the neck of her gown and ripped it downward with one tug, baring her breasts.

“Pretty. Not as big, but pretty…” His dark head lowered and his wet mouth enveloped her left breast.

Violation. He smelled of garlic and wine and his teeth were hurting her. She felt…dirty. Bile rose in Sanchia’s throat as she clenched her fists to keep from pushing him away.

She blocked out all thought and feeling.

The key ring. She had to return the key ring.

Her hands moved with purely automatic skill transferring the key ring back to Rodrigo’s belt.

He didn’t notice. He was grunting, making animallike sounds, whispering vile promises.

She should be grateful he was so distracted, she told herself.

She wasn’t grateful. She hated it.

The key ring back on his belt, she had to find a way to releasing herself and getting back to Lion with the key. Dear God, where was Maria?

The man’s head was lifting, his mouth leaving her breasts. “Come.” He grasped her wrist and pulled her toward the maze. “I want you to lie beside that other whore so that I can take turns dipping betw—”

“Rodrigo, where did you go?” Maria emerged from the maze, her bodice still unlaced, her large breasts pale and ripe in the moonlight. A sulky pout pursed her lips. “I close my eyes for a minute and you’re off to mount another woman. Send her away.”

Rodrigo grinned. “Two is better than one.”

Maria flowed toward him, her breasts jiggling as she moved. She stopped before him. “You’re wrong. I’m more than enough woman for you.” She smiled as she deliberately reached a hand between his legs and squeezed.

He inhaled sharply, his hand releasing Sanchia’s wrist.

“You keep telling me what a bull you are. Now show me your coglios.” Maria backed away teasingly.

“Wait here.” Rodrigo tossed over his shoulder as he quickly moved after Maria. “Later I’ll have…” The rest of the sentence was lost as he followed Maria back into the maze.

Sanchia ran!

The cool wind whipped at her face as she fled across the grass, her lips forming prayers of thankfulness. Only a few yards more.

Lion was opening the gate, his gaze searching her face. Then she was outside the gates, thrusting the key into Lion’s hand. “Here,” she gasped. “Here is what you wanted.”

“No trouble?” Marco asked.

Sanchia drew her cloak more closely around her to hide her torn gown. “No trouble.”

Lion’s gaze mercilessly raked her features until she felt he must see the imprint of the foul violation she still felt on her flesh. Then, to her relief, he turned away and strode toward the grove where Lorenzo was guarding the horses. “Let’s get back to the farmhouse.”

During the journey back to the farmhouse, Marco was jubilant and Lorenzo his usual mocking and remote self.

Only Lion was grimly silent.

He knew, Sanchia thought miserably. Somehow he knew she had broken her promise and let herself be touched by another man. She could see it in the way he looked at her, in the tension of his hand grasping the reins, in the tightness of his lips.

When they reached the barnyard Lion dismounted, came around and lifted Sanchia from her horse. His gaze held her own with compelling force. “Who?” he asked softly.

She felt the panic rise within her. “Rodrigo. I couldn’t help—”

He was turning away, his hand grasping her wrist with bruising force as he pulled her toward the barn. “Leave the horses in the barnyard,” he said in a fierce rasp over his shoulder to Lorenzo and Marco. “I’ll tend to them later.”

The interior of the barn was dark and frighteningly alive with strange, scurrying sounds. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it.

His powerful body was silhouetted for an instant against the paler darkness of the night sky before he shut the doors. Then there was only blackness.

“Rodrigo?” The harshness of his voice vibrated in the silence. “No other men?”

“No one else.” She rushed on frantically, “I couldn’t help it. I had to get the keys back and Maria wasn’t there and there was no other way to—”

“So you spread your legs and took him into you.” His hands fell heavily on her shoulders and he shook her hard. “You let him mount you and—”

“No, he only touched me with his mouth and his hands. He didn’t—Maria came and he let me go.”

Lion went still. “You’re telling me the truth?”

Sanchia nodded frantically, then realized he couldn’t see her in the darkness. “I swear, my lord.”

“Cristo! Then why in hell did you look so guilty?”

“I was guilty. You told me I was never to be touched. And he touched me.” She shuddered. “I felt befouled. Unclean.”

He was silent, his hands still heavy on her shoulders. Abruptly he released her and she heard him moving away.

“My lord?”

“I’m lighting the lantern.”