Page 9 of Ravager

Thankfully, Rolf let the lie slide. “Have you come to talk to me about the girl in the dungeon?”

Erik shook his head, though he knew she would have come up at some point.

“It’s the other men, Rolf. We’ve been in Criolium for a week, and they are getting worried. They think you don’t have a plan.”

Rolf laughed, thick and hearty. His dark eyes twinkled like diamond-dusted coal, and in that moment, he looked much younger than his thirty-five years.

“You know I always have a plan.”

“I don’t doubt you, but I do think perhaps you should let everyone in on it. They are growing restless and…well, I don’t have to tell you that being around the same men will take its toll.”

“They need a good fuck, do they?”

The corner of Erik’s mouth lifted briefly. “Yes.”

Rolf nodded and straightened. “As do I, Erik. How is the girl, at any rate? I’m starting to think I should have let you save more than only her.”

Erik thought back to that morning he went to visit the girl, taking away the food she didn’t eat. She had been lying on the floor, shivering in the stacks of blankets Erik had brought to her over the week, unable to get warm, unwilling to speak, although she did occasionally spit in his face. He also got a name out of her.

Cherine.

He thought it sounded like silk.

“She’s not doing well,” Erik said slowly, unsure of how much to reveal. “She hasn’t eaten since she arrived here.”

Rolf’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Our food not good enough for her? Let her starve then.”

“Sheisstarving,” Erik said. “She’s traumatized. You can’t blame her.”

“You have grown soft, my friend. She should be grateful you spared her life. Should I pay her a visit?”

A strange thrust of fear gripped Erik’s heart. “No. I’ll get her to eat. It’s just taking some time.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing we haven’t moved on yet,” Rolf mused darkly. “You seem quite taken with this wench.”

Erik pressed his lips together, not wanting to admit to anything, knowing Rolf would find fault with whatever he ended up saying.

He waited while Rolf studied him. Finally, Rolf said, “She sounds like she might be worth holding onto then. She certainly is beautiful. You know, these French women have a certain quality we just don’t get at home. Fire.”

Erik choked on a small laugh. Even in her weakened state, Cherine certainly had that.

“I’ve been thinking,” Rolf said. “What could possibly anger the French more than just taking over their repugnant villages one by one? What if I had a French bride?”

Erik’s eyes shot to him, the grey-blue burning as Rolf smiled at him.

“If this woman lives, she might make a nice companion—at least a nice fuck. And then what will the French think when they see I’ve taken one of their own?”

“She is but a peasant,” Erik said, trying to hide his disapproval. “She is nothing to them.”

“Perhaps. But it can’t hurt, can it?” Rolf fell silent, seeming to mull it over. A breeze brushed his long black hair from his back, flowing behind him like Lucifer’s wings. “We will be leaving here in a few days for Saint Martin. We’ll follow the Yères River and take the holding by storm. There is a baron there, a very powerful one. We won’t kill him this time. No, we’ll hold onto him, send a message that we are a force to be reckoned with.”

“Don’t you suppose the baron will be waiting for you? All we’ve done here is give the other towns time to prepare.”

Rolf gave him a wolfish grin that sent shivers down his back. “Ah, Erik, and this is where you doubted me. Yes, we have given them time. That’s what we want. It doesn’t matter how many poor peasants this baron can muster up to fight for him. We willlay waste to every single one of them—the more, the better. Have you so little faith in what we can do?”

Erik’s faith in his fellow man had disappeared years ago, but he wasn’t about to admit that. Rolf would lead his men to victory, no matter how great the cost.

“In the meantime,” Rolf went on, “I want you to break the wench in for me.”