Free Lock by Kate Hill Page A

dropped back onto the floor, a pleased smile on his lips.
    “I can’t believe you just did that.” Sparrow placed her hands on her hips. “That little girl will most likely have nightmares for a year.”
    “Ah!” Lock waved his hand. “That’s probably the most fun she’s had in her life. Nothing like a good scare every now and then.”
    “You really are a pirate,” Sparrow hissed before trudging back to the barn.
    She was shoveling out the stable when three of the women from the village stepped inside.
    “Good afternoon, Sparrow,” said a chubby woman of late middle age who Sparrow knew to be a fisherwoman.
    Another of the women, the local blacksmith, a tall, muscular blond, added, “We took a ride out here to have a look at your man.”
    “Excuse me?” Sparrow stopped shoveling and stared at them.
    The last woman, whom Sparrow recognized as a seamstress, giggled. “Emerald and young Ginny said he’s something to see, of course I’d take Emerald’s description as more apt. Ginny made him out to be a combination of a wizard and a wild boar.”
    “The girls did say he was a giant.” The blacksmith winked. “I saw him from a distance during the whipping, but I wouldn’t mind a closer look.”
    “You rode all the way out here to look at my slave?”
    “None of us were fool enough to buy him, with his reputation, but we’d still like to have a look,” the oldest woman said.
    “He’s a person,” Sparrow said. “You can’t just look at him like so much horseflesh.”
    “Why not?” asked the seamstress. “Do you think men don’t display their female slaves? It just so happens, in our village we have the power.”
    The blacksmith smiled. “That’s why I love it here. Never got along in my home village.”
    “Just one little look, Sparrow. There are others who’ve been talking about coming up here to get a look at Lock the White. He has quite a reputation, you know.”
    “He’s a rotten criminal, and I think he’s gotten just what he deserves,” the seamstress said. “If you ask me, most men should be in chains.”
    “So how about it, Sparrow? Give us a look?”
    Sparrow was about to adamantly refuse, knowing how much Lock would hate being gawked at like a slave on display. How much he’d hate it…
    “All right,” she said. “But just for a minute.”
    The women followed her to the house. When they stepped inside, Lock, clad only in his loincloth, scrubbed dishes in a basin of water. He glanced at them.
    The women stared then burst into laughter.
    “Just like all men should be!” The blacksmith clapped Sparrow on the back. “Barefoot and working in the kitchen!”
    “What the hell’s this?” Lock demanded, his pale eyes sweeping each of the women.
    “They wanted to have a look at you.” Sparrow tossed him a gloating smile and folded her arms across her chest.
    “Not bad.” The seamstress took a few steps closer, but still remained a safe distance away from Lock as he stood, towering above the group, his fists clenched almost as tightly as his teeth. “Strong lines. Stunning height. Pity about his back, though.”
    “And he’s big.” The fisherwoman giggled, her plump cheeks stained pink. “Biggest man I’ve ever seen in these parts.”
    “What am I, a horse?” Lock snarled. “Get these bitches out of here!”
    “Need to teach him some manners.” The blacksmith glanced over her shoulder at Sparrow. “But at least he speaks our language.”
    “You’ll have to train him to do more than the washing up,” the seamstress said. “Once he’s tamed, you can move him to the barn and let him do the heavy work.”
    “That hair is rather pretty,” the fisherwoman looked thoughtful. “If you cut it off, it would fetch a good price from the wig maker. Odd color, though, she might take off for that. You can keep letting it grow, cutting it off, and making a profit, just like you do with sheep.”
    “You’re all daft. Every last one of you.” Lock bellowed, “Get