Free The Boar Stone: Book Three of the Dalriada Trilogy by Jules Watson Page A

soon,’ she murmured, through cracked lips.
    Cian’s eyes flickered towards her. ‘Yes,’ he said, and then laughed, a shocking, bitter sound.
    ‘Come on, then!’ Two sailors slid down the ladder, unchained them and bound their hands in front with rope. When she was hauled on to the deck, Minna’s eyes squeezed almost shut against the dull, grey light. Someone tossed them, stumbling, onto a wooden jetty.
    Through slitted eyes, she glimpsed a silty beach and a humped rock outcrop scattered with little, round houses, smoke leaking from their thatched roofs. To the south were shining mudflats at a rivermouth, and all around, looming hills. The jetty was crawling with people unloading ships, the grey beach beyond scattered with hide boats and canoes. The air was split by shouts and laughter, the thump of barrels and crates. A cold mist hung over the black water of the bay, and a freezing wind cut to her bones.
    Jared stood before them, scrutinizing Minna’s grimy legs and stained tunic. She wanted to spit at him again, but her mouth was too dry and she was weak after little food but stale bread.
    ‘This won’t do,’Jared muttered, taking her rope. She noticed dizzily that the dark water beside the jetty was growing paler as they neared the beach. Jared halted. ‘Into the drink, then, both of them.’
    Minna was shoved from behind, her breath extinguished by freezing water. She scrabbled ineffectually with tied hands, struggling upwards, until someone grabbed her by the hair and hauled her head free. Above, Jared’s sailors laughed as she spluttered and gagged, curious faces peering over their shoulders. Alongside, another sailor was dunking Cian in the thigh-deep sea. Before Minna could speak, her head was shoved under again and shaken around.
    Hands rubbed roughly at her legs, arms and hair, and at last she and Cian were dragged from the water onto the pebbly beach, where Jared sawed away their bindings as they crouched there shivering. He prodded Cian, tossing him a tunic and trousers. ‘Here.’ He dragged Minna to her feet. ‘Strip down and put this on,’ he directed, holding out a folded column of red wool.
    Rubbing her wrists, she looked behind him to his men. Most had gone to unload the rest of their cargo, but four remained, eyes greedily fixed on her wet, clinging tunic. It was too much; it would be her undoing. She looked Jared in the eye, though she trembled all over. ‘No.’
    He considered her for a moment, gaze roaming over her fair skin. Then – utterly exhausted, shocked out of her old self – Minna’s mind made a surprising leap. She saw into Jared like a gull diving into the sea; sensed his thoughts, felt his emotions. She heard his mind. It had never happened before.
    Jared was wondering how much she would bruise if they forced her, and how it would affect his price.
    Her wrists were already chafed from the chain, and the slave-ring, though thin, was wearing welts on her neck. She clenched her fists, bracing her arms. If Jared forced her, she would bruise badly. She showed that with her face, her body.
    ‘Right!’Jared snapped, and pointed behind her with his dagger to a tumble of boulders at the base of the outcrop. Weak with relief, Minna wedged herself in and tugged off her wet tunic. Still shivering, she held its stinking folds for a moment, thumbs moving over the embroidery sewn by Mamo. She touched it to her lips, slowly, and then drew the barbarian dress over her head. It fell to her ankles, a shapeless tube sewn on each shoulder with long sleeves attached. Slowly, she emerged from the rocks, trailing her old tunic.
    Cian had pulled on his trousers to the sound of jeering laughter from the sailors. A tremor ran across his lean muscles as Jared studied his naked torso with a keen eye. ‘Well, well, I had no idea you were as sweet and hairless as the girl.’ The trader’s teeth flashed. ‘Could get more money for him, lads. Might sell him to one of the warriors as a body slave,