Warrior's Lady by Amanda Ashley Page A

else.”
    “No.” Jarrett took a step forward, only to come up short as Gar laid his blade against Leyla’s throat. “Do what you want with me, but let her go.”
    “We will do exactly as we want,” Siid replied. “With you. And with her.”
    “I’ll do anything you ask,” Jarrett said. “Grovel in the dirt. Crawl on my belly. Anything. Only let her go.”
    Gar’s laugh was cruel. “You’ll do all those things and more before you die, Rebel, I promise you that, just as I promise that your dying will take many days.” He wrapped his free hand in Leyla’s hair, jerking her head back as he pressed the edge of the sword to her throat. “Siid, bind him.”
    Jarrett kept his gaze on Leyla as Siid bound his hands behind his back. Don’t be afraid. I’ll think of something, I swear it. He sent his thoughts toward her, hoping she would read them in his mind.
    He thought she nodded slightly, but he couldn’t be sure.
    With malicious glee, Siid drew back his fist and buried it in Jarrett’s stomach, howling with delight when Jarrett doubled over, retching.
    Again and again Siid lashed out with his fists until Jarrett lay on the ground, his body drawn into itself. With a grunt, the Gamesman kicked Jarrett in the ribs, then turned away, his eyes glinting with desire.
    “Bind her,” Siid remarked. “I’ll get the dice.”
    “We’ll use mine,” Gar informed him with a cold grin. “I’ve lost to you too many times.”
    “As you wish,” Siid agreed. “I won’t mind losing tonight, since the prize remains the same.”
    In moments, Leyla was bound hand and foot, forced to sit between the Fen warriors while they played a game of nine points to see who would be the one to deflower her.
    Frightened as she was for her own fate, it was fear for Jarrett that pounded in her brain. They might abuse her. They might steal her maidenhead, but Jarrett’s life would be forfeit, and it would be all her fault. If only she had let him kill the Fen as he’d wanted. If only she could go back, she would do it herself!
    Leyla gazed at Jarrett. He lay so still, she wondered if he was dead. Heartsick, she willed him to move, to breathe, even as she hoped that he would never regain consciousness, that he might be spared whatever torment the Fen had planned for him.
    Jarrett opened his eyes to a red mist of pain and the taste of blood and dirt in his mouth. It hurt to breathe, to think. He could see Gar and Siid sitting cross-legged before the fire, their heads bent as they rolled the dice. Leyla sat between them.
    Slowly, laboriously, he strained toward the knife sheathed within his boot. Pain slashed through him as he tried to reach the knife. He curled tighter into himself, drawing his leg as close to his body as he could, stretching his arm, his hands, his fingers, praying to the All Father that he wouldn’t pass out. From the cries of his captors, he knew time was running out.
    With a last mighty effort, he made a grab for the blade, felt his fingertips brush the haft of the knife. So close. Grimacing with pain, he tried again, willing hands gone numb to respond. It took a moment before he realized he’d succeeded.
    He glanced at Gar and Siid, making sure they were still distracted by the game. Then, moving slowly and awkwardly, he began to saw at the thick rope around his wrists.
    Leyla’s scream warned him that the game was over.

 
    Chapter Ten
     
    His wrists were slick with blood, his brow sheened with sweat, by the time he cut through the rope. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, willing his hands to stop shaking, blocking the pain from his mind as he concentrated on what he had to do.
    Moving slowly, he glanced over his shoulder. Siid was holding a wildly struggling Leyla while Gar stripped off his breeches.
    It was now or never. Gripping the knife in his right hand, Jarrett rolled to his knees and crawled stealthily toward Gar.
    Struggling to stay conscious, Jarrett raised the knife. It was then that Leyla