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Bulkezu mounted the horse and shouted a coed up the hill A hail of darts fell a them, but neither Bulkezu nor his soldiers flinched As the shadow arrows struck, the tattoo beasts and warriors caught and sed theht cause Neither horse nor rider could be wounded With Bulkezu in the lead, they crested the slope and fell upon the shadow elves
The battle thrashed away into the trees as the Quman drove off their attackers Prince Bulkezu was nowhere in sight, a dozen men scurried to corral the spooked horses, and the sha from the snow, threw his patchwork cloak back on and with a few assistants got busy tending to the wounded, including poor Lord Welf
No one was paying attention to Hanna, no one at all
Lady Fortune had a strange way of showering her favor over the hapless Hanna got as far as the tree line before, aly, she tripped over that saht her in the first place She fell hard, wind knocked out of her Her head ached, and her hands had gone nuet out of here She forced her elbows under herself and began to push up, just as hands grabbed her ankles
She swore helplessly as a soldier dragged her back into camp It was as round so she didn’t so of her until he reached the entrance to the great tent There, he let go of her ankles and rolled her over the threshold--a ridge of wood that bruised an arm and hip as she was tipped over it--onto a miraculously soft carpet that had no snow on it She lay there, gasping for breath, as ranules of snow trickled fro to nu She wanted to weep, but she didn’t have the luxury
After a htly, and stood, aware that about a dozen er to watch the final tawdry scene unfold
Bulkezu sat on a stool at his ease, watching her He still wore his ars and his heln of the tattoos that had protected hin of it in his posture or his serene expression He said a few casual words to the interpreter, who like Hanna was still breathing hard, looking relieved to have escaped death
"His Iests with all politeness that you not try to escape again He’s quite taken with your blonde hair If you’re lucky, he’ll like you well enough to keep you to himself for a bit before he throws you to the wolves"
"I wonder that he can’t hear what a bastard you are just from your tone of voice," said Hanna "I’ll thank you, traitor, to let His Most Gracious Prince Bulkezu know that he’d better not touch le, and my person is sacrosanct"
The interpreter merely snorted, then repeated what she hoped were her words Bulkezu only laughed as he rose and approached her Miraculously, her cloak hadn’t corabbed hold of her brass Eagle’s brooch and ripped it clean off Her cloak slid down her body to land in a heap on the carpet, all ridges and ru skin
Bulkezu sighed, lifting a hand to fondle her hair
"Sorry to tell you," said the interpreter, who hadn’t moved from his place beside the prince’s stool "The Quood luck I’ve seen a ht-haired bed-slave"
She was really getting frightened now, knowing how ugly it was probably going to get, and her fear ry and reckless She hated the feel of Bulkezu touching her like she was an ani his wrist, she yanked his hand down from her hair
He hadn’t expected her to defy him, and anyway, she’d worked hard all her life and wasn’t a weakling For the space of two breaths they stood poised there, she holding his wrist away and he gone tense, resisting her They were alht This close, she saw a shadow flicker in his eyes, the spark of anger Soed, his posture, the cant of his head, the tension in his shoulders The atmosphere in the tent altered coled noise in his throat, catching back a gasp of fear
The ugly scene was upon them
Bulkezu forced her hand down slowly, slowly It wasn’t easy for hiht him all the way He just held her arm down by her hip to prove that he had her, that she’d lost, that nothing she could do would change the fact that she was his now, to do with as he willed He kept his gaze locked on hers, to drive her into utter submission