Page 1 of Bought to Break
Chapter 1
Lana
‘Iknow you’re here. You’re always in here. I know you’re hiding from me. When I find you, do you know what I’m going to do to you?’
Lana gritted her teeth as a bit of straw brushed against her nose. She pinched it shut, willing herself not to sneeze. She was crouched in a small hollow space amongst the hay bales. He couldn’t see her, but she couldn’t see him either. A horse snorted and stomped and the others followed suit. They didn’t like him here any more than she did.
She heard him swear. He was very close. He’d hear the smallest sound from her, no doubt about that. If he found her now … she shuddered … losing her only hiding place would be the least of her worries. She held her breath, praying to the gods for deliverance, and, finally, she heard the door bang closed as he left.
Lana breathed out slowly and extricated herself from her hiding place. The stable was quiet and the horses calmed as soon as she appeared. She began her usual duties; feeding the mares and rubbing them down after their long day. Some she’d known since she came here. They worked the fields during the day and came in at night. Others belonged to travellers who were passing through. All were doted on, though, whether she knew them or not. Lana loved horses; always had, even as a child. She remembered that her mother had had high hopes for her stud farm once Lana took over when she was older, but they had never come to fruition.
After an illness had ravaged her dear mama’s body for three long weeks, she’d finally succumbed in her sleep. Lana had been thirteen and her stepfather had sold her to Dirk, the stablemaster, long before the pyre was cold. Her mother’s property was the most valuable in the area and, if he’d waited until she was of age, he would have had to relinquish it to her. That was the law and a freewoman of property was a force to contend with. So he had quietly exchanged her for a horse early one morning. Knowing her master Dirk, he’d probably still been drunk from the night before – and that was that.
It had been eight long years since that day and, though she was old enough to inherit, Lana was a slave. She had no rights to property unless she was freed and she knew Dirk would never give her the Writ of Ownership. Her stepfather was a dangerous man and no one wanted to be on the wrong side of him.
So she tried to make the best of her life. Dirk wasn’t a bad fellow really. He was fair when it counted and he didn’t hate her, just his life. His son, Ather, was the real problem.
Lana felt her ribs, still bruised from the last time Ather had found her. They hurt, but the black masses had turned to light purple and yellow now. New ones would take their place sooner rather than later. Of that she had no doubt. He liked to beat her for imaginary wrongdoings, and lately he’d been looking at her differently – in a way that made her skin itch, as if he’d suddenly remembered she was female.
She hid her body under shapeless rags as much as she could, but he’d noticed all the same. And he wasn’t the only one. The men in the tavern leered and grabbed at her whenever Dirk sent her to get him a flagon. She hated it when she had to go, and she’d taken to rubbing stinking mud over her skin and hair to try to put them off.
Finishing her duties, she was about to curl up under the straw in the corner to sleep when she heard movement outside. Fearing it was Ather coming back, she leapt for her hiding place, but the door swung open before she had taken two steps, taking her by surprise.
Two monstrously large men trudged in, leading two of the biggest ink-black stallions she’d ever seen. Both men and horses looked like they’d been out in the wilds for a good long while. They were all hardened and worn, dusty and rugged. The men wore dark clothes and had thick black cloaks for the season. Both had dark hair and eyes, and their handsome faces alone were enough to guarantee neither of them would want for female company while they stayed at the inn.
At that thought, Lana blushed and hoped her face was still dirty enough to hide it. Their great horses stomped impatiently with their enormous hooves, their breath coming out of their nostrils like smoke in the winter air. It made them look like beasts from a dark realm and she imagined these men were just as wild as their mounts. She shook slightly. Village lads and farmers were one thing, but the last time men like these were in her village, they had simply taken anything they wanted; food, supplies – and more than one woman was now growing with a child that was not her husband’s. Lana still had bad dreams about the raids though she had hidden herself well each time they had come and they hadn’t been back since the end of the summer. The local lords had run them off, she’d heard.
Lana continued to survey them. No, she wasn’t used to men like these. They must be warriors of some sort though. Yes, that was right. She had heard talk earlier in the day from travellers who had come via the north road. Mercenaries had been seen journeying south to the ports, travelling to where their services would be best paid for. These men were part of that sell-sword army, the feared Dark Brothers. She must have made a sound, because suddenly she was the focus of their piercing gazes.
‘Where is the master here?’ one of them ground out.
She opened her mouth, but, to her mortification, no sound but a tiny squeak passed her lips. The one who had spoken looked impatiently at her and the other, amusedly.
‘Are you mute, girl?’
‘Leave her alone, Viktor. You’re frightening her.’
Viktor smiled slightly. He was enjoying her discomfort, and her eyes narrowed at him.
‘I am not frightened!’ she sneered.
Viktor’s grin widened. ‘Are you sure of that?’
He took a step towards her and she took two back.
‘You look terrified to me. Tell me where your master is before I become impatient.’
He was playing games with her. Ather did that as well, but whereas Ather’s games always ended in her receiving a sound beating, these men had no reason to harm her. They had no reason to even think of her, so far was she beneath their notice, she mused.
She looked Viktor in the eye and stood up straight. ‘The sun is almost down. He’s no doubt asleep.’
A look was shared between the two men. ‘Bit early in the day to be abed.’
‘He’s a drunkard,’ she said simply. ‘But he never comes to the stables anyway. If you want your horses taken in, there’s room in the last two stalls for the night. A silver.Each. They’ll be well tended. You have my word.’
‘You’ll see to them yourself, girl?’ the other man asked, looking her over, somewhat oddly.
Unable to help herself, she barked a small laugh. ‘Do you see anyone else, sell-sword?’
