EXTRACT FOR
His Chattel
(Danielle Fonda)

     Sabra watched with shaking dread as Lord Black Hawk straightened and turned his head in her direction. She vowed in that moment that she could see red fire in his eyes??"glaring through the thin black vertical slits of his visor.



      He is but a man??"But a man! She admonished herself fearfully even as he began to stride heavily toward her. A fearsomely big man! She faltered backward along the wall as Lord Black Hawk stalked her, until she was trapped in the smoky shadows of the furthest corner of the hall. There she stood cornered, unable to halt her body's shaking, as she realized what strength must be behind this towering lord's fists. Fists that he would use to beat her! This thought skittered through her mind and had the substance of vivid memories in her minds eye! It caused her to turn away with an anguished cry, until she could hide her face into the corner. Only the brute fist which she envisioned would be equal to her husband's cruelty did not fall upon her. Yet within moments her shame came swiftly, as the dark lord spoke his caustic words.



     "Mon dieu, does all these Bascoms hide as cowards?"



     Sabra recoiled at finding Lord Black Hawk's tenor voice so near to her that his size blocked out all the light as if it were a shroud at midnight.



     "Bring a torch, Pascal, so I may see this whoreson's wife!" Suddenly two gauntlet fists were planted on the wall beside her head! Sabra whimpered in fear and surprise as the massive presence behind her shifted until chain-mail links were forced into her spine. The avenging lord's voice when he spoke was husky and accented, frighteningly suggestive! "I would examine my personal prize, yes."



     Sabra's mouth filled with the taste of hot male sweat, steaming in a headiness around her, as she clamped her jaw tightly, desperately trying to keep her teeth from chattering. When she knew surely she would suffocate from his male power seeping through her, all around her, the dark lord withdrew his bulk from her spine and stepped backward with an audible chinking of his armor. It was then she could sense the torchlight drawing nearer through her closed eyelids, even though she prayed against it. All the while, horrible thoughts skittered through her mind.



     He will not kill me??"he will not! He called me prize . . . that-that means he will not sever my head from my body with one powerful stroke of his sword. He will not??"he will not??"!



     "Turn around esclave. Now!"



     The dark lord's bellow so startled Sabra that she jumped around to face him with the word esclave ringing in her ears. Esclave meant slave in French speaking words!



     "Are you this Bascom's wife?" Lord Black Hawk demanded.



     Sabra's frantic gaze darted upward and she panicked when she realized that Lord Black Hawk had removed his helm and they should view each other face to face! Her thoughts frantically bade her to look away??"cast her gaze downward??"but her eyes would not obey!



     The dark lord's face was a pagan god's visage . . . fearsome??"yet compelling. His features were tanned-skinned and rawboned, and he had earthy-shaded eyes that held no reflection but a deep malice that turned fleetingly to surprise before it was shuttered behind his mahogany irises. His hair was shorter, laying in sweaty waves of stark blue-black ebony, the same color as his full moustache. His jawbone was square with cheekbones that were faintly concaved beneath the strong bone structure outlining them. His nose was a proud hawk's beak, long and narrow, and his eyelids were heavy-lidded. When he turned his head slightly at some inconsequential sound behind them in the hall, she saw a small gold ring pierced his right earlobe.



     "Yes," she finally gasped with her hands clenching in the wool skirting of her burgundy colored over tunic. She tried futilely to catch her voice. "I a-am thee Sir Robert Bascom's wife, Lady Sabra Bascom."



     She was unable to endure Lord Black Hawk's forceful male visage a moment longer so she lowered her gaze and did not view his powerful, gauntlet-covered hand reach forward to take hold of her upper arm. The surprise of it caused her to yelp in fright just as she realized that it was a firm handling, yet not cruelly bruising as he pulled her forward.



     "Non esclave!" he snarled in a heated tenor voice. "You are no more the lady but now Noir Faucon's whore!"