A Hero's Bargain Read Online Free PDF

choked.
    “Shh. Be still. We can talk after
you sleep.”
    “No sleep.” Was that croak his
voice?
    “All right,” she said softly, patting
his hand. He flinched, fearing the fire would strike again.
    “We’ll talk while I tend your
wounds.”
    The angel-demon surely had plans
other than tending his wounds. If she wanted him alive, it was for her pleasure
and his pain.
    “You’re going to kill me, aren’t
you?”
    “No. No, I’m not. I will do my best
to heal you.”
    Some things were better left
unasked. The words wouldn’t stay unformed. He opened his eyes and struggled to
focus on her. She blurred in his vision, a shadow, a ghostly angel-demon with
the full moon as her silvery halo.
    “For what purpose?”
    “We shall see, once you live.”
    He closed his eyes.
    Well,
Ryder, that was reassuring, wasn’t it?
    * * * *
    He must’ve passed out again because
he didn’t remember arriving at the village. He was just suddenly there, inside
a stockade. There were excited voices and the sense of many bodies milling
around. The angel-demon seemed to have a lot of friends.
    They stopped in front of a round
hut, where several men gingerly lifted him from the litter and carried him
inside. He bit the inside of his mouth bloody to keep from screaming. Every movement
was agony. Couldn’t they just leave him alone to die in peace?
    He started praying for the
blackness to take him again. The angel-demon was speaking to another woman.
There was a flurry of activity above his head. He seemed to be lying on some
sort of raised table or platform. The smoke from the fireplace had a fruity
fragrance, like the apple wood his grandfather had burned long ago and far
away. He didn’t want those memories right now. The angel-demon loomed over him.
    “I will tend your wounds. This is
Jennica. She will help me.” Hands began pulling at the rags that used to be
very expensive clothing.
    “You don’t know me well enough to…”
He was seized by a fit of coughing. “See me naked,” he finished, wheezing.
    The angel-demon’s servant laughed
softly and assured him that they wouldn’t look.
    He didn’t trust them for a moment.
    “Jennica. He hardly needs such
banter. Perhaps where he comes from, it isn’t proper for you to see him.”
    Ryder couldn’t see the man
speaking. The man stood somewhere above Ryder’s head, between him and the fire.
    “Then perhaps, Tyree, you will
undress him.” The angel-demon pressed a warm, scented cloth to his forehead.
“Perhaps it would spare all of us if you did.”
    She was awfully willing to just
turn him over to her minions. And why not? She had to prepare her next torture.
    “I’ll keep my clothes on,” he
mumbled. He didn’t really mean it. His clothes stank, and he feared, so did he.
More painful proof he remained among the living.
    The angel-demon refolded the cloth
and wiped his cheeks. The cloth had been dipped in something astringent. Small
cuts on his face burned as it passed over them.
    “Your clothing is in rags, ones too
fouled to even try to wash. They will be burned. We’ll provide new for you.”
She turned away and he heard the faint sound of water tinkling in the basin as
she rinsed out the cloth. The man, the one who must be Tyree, leaned over him.
Ryder blinked him into focus.
    The man was tall, broad and looked
like a fighter. Great. Just great.
    Even on a good day he looked like
someone Ryder would have trouble taking in a fight, and this was definitely not
a good day. At least he was sane and awake enough to realize that fact. Actually,
the fog seemed to be lifting from his brain.
    The man gave him a stern look and
then gently lifted him, pulling the remains of his shirt away. He shivered, suddenly
bare. The angel-demon noticed.
    “Put a few more logs on the fire,
Jennica.” Her order was given quietly and Ryder sensed more movement behind him
as the other woman moved to do her bidding.
    The angel-demon wiped his neck, and
he grabbed her wrist with all the