The Bride Hunt Read Online Free Page A

remained on guard. Taking care to close his hand over the chain so ’twould not rattle, he pulled as hard as his broken body would allow.
    It moved slightly. If he could get it all the way out of the ground, he did not think it would take much more effort to pull out the restraint on his other hand. By then, however, the men on guard would take notice. But if he could use the loose chains on his arms as weapons, the two would be hard-pressed to come close to him.
    As dusk fell, the fading light worked in Anvrai’s favor. He strained to pull free before the guards lit the torches and took note of his actions. He still had not seen Roger, but that did not mean the young man wasn’t somewhere nearby. Roger could very well be lying unconscious only a few yards away, and because of Anvrai’s blind eye, he would not know it.
     
    The rough stones on the path hurt Isabel’s bare feet as her captor pushed her forward, past several low timber huts. To keep herself from succumbing to a paralyzing fear, Isabel counted each cottage and took note of every detail—every pail, every cart, every stack of animal skins.
    Both Roger and Sir Anvrai were physically incapacitated as well as tied, which meant there would be no valiant hero to come to her rescue. Her plight was no fanciful tale, told in the secure comfort of her mother’s solar or her father’s hall. Isabel quivered with the knowledge that she was doomed to suffer whatever consequence the chieftain chose to inflict upon her.
    The largest building in the village was a long, timber cottage with two shuttered windows, a thatched roof, and a stout wooden door at the far end. When Isabel’s guards pushed her toward it, she realized it was her destination…the place where the dark-eyed chieftain would be waiting for her.
    Beside the door stood two burly Scots, holding spears. They grinned at her, and one of them made a remark to the other. Isabel did not understand the words, but when the men started to laugh, she pulled away and ran.
    Taking the guards by surprise, Isabel managed to elude them. Without thinking, she made a desperate dash toward the far side of the cottage and ran around its corner, hoping her speed would keep her captors from catching her. Mayhap she could distract them all, and Roger and Anvrai would have a chance to get away.
    ’Twas an unreasonable hope, and Isabel could not think of them at that moment. All she knew was that she had to get away. The thought of being touched by that foul-mouthed barbarian made her feel ill.
    Running as fast as possible with her hands bound at her back, Isabel hardly heard the shouts behind her. She reached the end of the cottage and kept moving toward the hills, where sheep grazed peacefully in the gloaming. She did not care where she went, as long as she could get away from the village…away from the fate that awaited her there.
    A sudden, sharp pain stabbed through the arch of Isabel’s foot, and she pitched headlong into the rough turf. She struggled to rise, but could not push herself up. She rolled to her side and tried to get to her feet, but rough hands grabbed her and yanked her up.
    One of the men tossed her over his shoulder, and Isabel cried out in agony. The position crushed the air out of her lungs and pulled painfully at her arms. Someone struck her, and she pressed her lips together to keep from calling out again. There was no one to help her, and nothing she could do to help herself.
    They carried her directly into the chieftain’s cottage and dropped her upon a pallet of furs near the fire. While the men spoke in excitedtones to the chieftain, Isabel managed to get onto her knees, hastily surveying her surroundings.
    The place was well lit with tallow candles, the odor of which permeated the large room. Remnants of a greasy meal lay upon a table in one corner, and beside the discarded bones lay a short knife.
    Isabel turned her eyes away from the blade and tipped her head down, allowing her hair to drape