Enchantress Mine by Bertrice Small Read Free Book Online

fuck.”
    The innkeeper let his eyes slide over the girl, and reaching out he fondled her plump breasts. The girl moved slightly into his hand, and smiled slowly and encouragingly into the man’s eyes. His tongue flicked nervously over his lips as he seriously considered the wisdom of such purchase. “Is she gentle-natured?” he asked Fren. The innkeeper, who had actually had no intention of buying a slave today, was visibly weakening.
    “Like a ruddy lamb,” replied the slave merchant, and he turned to the girl.
    “Aye, master, I be a good girl,” she said with a provocative wiggle of her hips.
    “I’ll not pay more than the posted price,” said the innkeeper, swallowing hard, and fumbling for his purse.
    “I’d ask no more, sir,” said Fren, his voice slightly tinged with hurt, but knowing the sale was made. The bargain was quickly concluded, and the girl went off with her new master, Fren grinning broadly as they went down the street.
    One of the slave merchant’s assistants laughed. “How many times is it that you’ve sold Gytha now? By the rood the wench makes more for you on the block than she does on her back!”
    “She’s good at luring the wenches for me,” said Fren. “With her tales of Byzantium she has ’em practically begging me to enslave ’em. By the time we return to England next year she’ll have a harvest of fair young beauties for us, you can be sure. Look how well she did for us two years ago in York. Tomorrow we’ll head for Winchester. I’m eager to see the crop of girls Alhraed has enticed for us this past year. There’s another fine Judas goat I own who’s more than worth her keep.”
    The first of the morning business completed, Fren and his assistants settled down to wait for other customers. Dagda, newly enlightened of Fren’s ruthlessness and business acumen, began to seriously consider the possibility of simply grabbing Mairin and making a run for it. That meek little man who had been so fearful in the forest was actually quite vicious and dangerous, and a genuine threat to Mairin. Then as she sat within the protective circle of his big lap he suddenly became aware of a tall serious-faced Saxon who stood staring at the child. The man was very well dressed, and obviously of the upper classes. He stood pondering, obviously considering something, but then as he slowly approached Fren two other men rudely pushed by him, and began shouting questions to the merchant about three of the male slaves.
    The tall Saxon hesitated, but then catching Dagda’s curious gaze he walked up to him and asked, “Do you speak English? Is the child for sale?”
    Slowly Dagda nodded, and scanning the depths of his memory, spoke the correct English words. “What would you want with her?” His look was fierce, and extremely protective.
    “My name is Aldwine Athelsbeorn. I am a king’s thegn, and my estate is in Mercia. My little daughter died this past spring, and my wife cannot cease her grieving. This child reminds me of our Edyth.”
    “You would buy her to give her to your wife?” Dagda’s heart pounded. Aldwine Athelsbeorn’s face was one that concealed nothing. It was an honest face marked by life, yet kindly.
    “Is the child your daughter?” the Saxon inquired, curious.
    “Nay, sir,” returned Dagda. Then he began to speak quickly in a low voice, hoping that Fren and his assistants would be kept busy long enough for him to make sense to the Saxon. This, he realized, was their way to escape from Fren! “The child’s parents are dead, and her stepmother sold her off in order that she might steal my lady’s inheritance. The child is of the nobility in Brittany, sir. I was her mother’s servant, but now I am a freedman. It is a very long story. In the name of the good Jesu, sir, I beg you buy the child! I will pledge myself to your service for five years or more to repay you whatever expense you may incur. The slaver would transport my lady to Byzantium, and sell her to a