The Taming Read online

  But it didn’t take half a brain to see who was the better fighter. Rogan was obviously testing his half-brother, toying with him to see what he could do, while the half-brother, anger in his eyes, was fighting with all his might. The brother attacked and Rogan easily sidestepped, then quickly brought his pole to the back of his brother’s knees.

  “Are you used to fighting only women?” Rogan taunted.

  Anger was getting the best of his brother, causing him to make stupid mistakes.

  “No one has ever beaten Baudoin before,” the toothless old man next to Liana said. “He’ll not like being bested.”

  “Baudoin,” Liana said aloud, frowning. She didn’t think it was a good idea for Rogan to make an enemy of this brother as he was doing. Rogan had spent most of his life training with sticks and swords, while this young man no doubt spent most of his time behind a plow.

  After a while, it was obvious to everyone watching that Rogan was growing tired of this game that gave no challenge. He stood in front of his brother, put his pole in one hand, standing it on end and…stretched.

  It was an insulting move, and Liana’s sympathies went to Baudoin at being so humiliated.

  Baudoin’s eyes turned dark with rage, and he lunged at Rogan, murder in his face. The crowd gasped.

  Barely looking at his brother, Rogan sidestepped and brought his stick crashing down on the back of Baudoin’s head. The young man went sprawling, face down, unconscious, in the mud and grass.

  Without a look of concern for his brother, Rogan stepped over his inert body and walked toward Liana, took his clothes from her, and slipped them over his head. He pushed his way through the crowd, his shoulders and head back, not looking at Liana but obviously expecting her to follow him. He ignored the peasants about him, who clapped him on the shoulder in congratulations and asked him to have a drink with them.

  Rogan was feeling very proud of himself. He’d bested the man who’d made his wife look at him with desire. He’d shown her who was the best man. And he was proud of how he’d done it. There would be no doubt in her mind as to who was the better man. He could have beat that overconfident half-brother with one hand tied behind his back.

  Very aware that Liana was following him, he led her toward the woods. When she showed how pleased she was with him, he wanted to be alone with her. Once, after he’d won a tournament, two young ladies had come to his tent to congratulate him. That had been a night to remember!

  But now all he wanted was his wife’s praise. Perhaps she’d kiss him the way she had when he’d said he’d go to the fair with her. He didn’t stop walking until he was deep in the woods, then he turned and looked at her.

  She didn’t throw her arms about his neck, nor did she give him one of her smiles that he’d come to know: a smile that was beginning to make him think of pleasure and softness and laughter.

  “I won,” he said, his eyes alive.

  “Yes, you won,” she said flatly.

  He didn’t understand her tone. It was almost as if she were angry with him. “I beat the man rather easily.”

  “Oh yes, it was very easy for you. Easy to humiliate him, to make the people laugh at him.”

  Rogan didn’t understand her and he didn’t try. She had gone too far this time. He drew back his hand to strike her.

  “Will you beat me now? Will you beat someone else who is weaker than you? Will you beat all your relatives? Me, your wife, your brothers. Why not get your children and tie them to the trees and flog them?”

  Rogan knew the woman was crazy; she made no sense. He lowered his hand and turned away from her to walk back to the village.

  Liana planted herself in front of him. “What were you thinking of to beat the boy so badly? You made him look like a fool.”

  Rogan’s own temper came to the surface. He grabbed her shoulders and yelled into her face. “Did you hate seeing him made a fool of? Would you rather it was me on the ground? Would you have comforted him with his head in your lap?” He dropped his hands from her shoulders. He had revealed too much of himself. He walked past her.

  Liana stood alone for a moment, staring at the ground as she thought about his words. His meaning came slowly to her and she had to run to catch him. She stood before him. “You were jealous,” she said, wonder in her voice as she looked up at him.

  He didn’t answer but walked around her.

  She stepped in front of him again and put her hands on his chest. “Did you really beat that boy so badly just to impress me?”

  Rogan looked into the distance over her head. “I wanted to test his strength and quickness, and when I’d done that, I was finished with him.” He glanced at her, then away. “He is not a boy. He is my age or perhaps older.”

  Liana began to smile. She didn’t like what he’d done to his half-brother, but oh how good it felt to think her husband was jealous of the way she’d looked at another man. “He may be as old as you, but he’s not as strong as you or as skilled nor as handsome.” She took his arm and tried to lead him into the forest, but he stood where he was.

  “I have been too long away from my men. We should return to the castle.” His body was rigid.

  “But the wager was for you to be my slave for a whole day,” Liana said, unable to keep from whining slightly. “Come, we’ll sit here in the woods. We won’t have to return to the fair.”

  Rogan found himself following the woman. Somehow she was able to make him forget duty and responsibility. He had neglected his work more since he’d married her than he had ever done before.

  “Come, sit here beside me,” she said, indicating a grassy, flower-strewn patch beside a little stream.

  She could see by his face that he was still angry and she started to smile at him when a movement in the trees behind him caught her eye. “Look out!” she managed to shout.

  Rogan instinctively sidestepped and so missed the knife that came at his back.

  Liana stood where she was and watched, horror on her face, as Baudoin attacked Rogan with a knife. She saw blood on Rogan’s arm, but in the frenzy of activity, she couldn’t tell how bad the wound was.

  This time Rogan did not have such an easy time of subduing his half-brother. Baudoin was enraged, and he meant to kill.

  Liana could do little more than watch as the men wrestled with each other, tumbling, rolling over and over on the grass, the knife flashing between them now and then. Rage added strength to Baudoin, and Liana could see that Rogan was fighting for his life.

  Glancing about her, she saw a short, stout tree branch. She picked it up, weighing it in her hands, then moved closer to the two powerful men. She had to jump back as they rolled near her, then step forward when they rolled away. The two heads, their faces buried in each other’s bodies, were so alike she was afraid she’d hit the wrong man.

  Then there was a chance. Baudoin wrenched his right arm free and held the knife above Rogan’s throat.

  The next moment he collapsed helplessly as Liana brought the club down on his head.

  For a moment Rogan didn’t move. He lay there, his limp half-brother sprawled on top of him. He didn’t like to admit to himself that he might have been killed if it hadn’t been for a…a woman.

  He pushed Baudoin off him and stood, unable to look at his wife. “We’ll go back and send the men for him,” he murmured.

  “And what will your men do to him?” Liana asked as she examined the wound on Rogan’s arm. The skin was barely broken.

  “Execute him.”

  “Your own brother?” Liana asked.

  Rogan frowned. “It will be quick. No burning or torturing.”

  Liana was thoughtful for a moment. “You go and get the men. I will join you in a while.”

  Rogan looked at her and his pulse pounded in his temple. “You mean to stay here with him?”

  Her eyes met his. “I mean to help him escape your injustice.”

  “My—?” Rogan said, aghast. “He just tried to kill me. If that means nothing to you, it means a