Free Dominion (Book 1 of The Dominion Series) by S. E. Lund Page A

clearly brings tears to my eyes despite my resolve to die with honor. The medic makes the sign of the cross and helps her roll me over onto my side and the pain takes my breath away. I groan and grit my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut.
    Please God stop...
    "This is one of the Comte's loyal vassals," she says as she rolls me onto my back once more. "Bring him to my tent."
    "If he's the Comte's, shouldn't he be taken to the city?" the medic asks, wiping his hands on his tunic.
    "No." Her voice is firm. She takes the medic's chin in her hand, staring into his eyes. "Take him to my tent." The medic stares back, open-mouthed, as if bewitched.
    "I'll take him to your tent," he says, his voice flat.
    She turns away, re-mounting her horse, and rides off.
    The two ragged young men set to work, unrolling a pallet, struggling to lift me onto it and every movement brings another wave of pain. All I want is for them to end my life quickly but that prayer goes unanswered like all the others.
     
    I wake, lying on a table, my teeth chattering.
    "Why aren't you dead, beautiful Sir Knight?" she whispers. "Your wounds would kill any man."
    I hiss in pain as she removes my chainmail hauberk and undershirt. Finally, she lays her hand over my brow, and in a moment, a sense of bliss spreads through me.
    "Beautiful Julien," the blonde woman whispers, her face close to mine, her lips beside my ear, brushing my cheek. "Yes, I know who you are, Sir Knight. I've been watching you for a while. Should I be merciful and let you die or should I heal you and take you for my own? Do you want to die?"
    "No," I gasp, for I don't believe in heaven.
    She leans down and kisses my lips. "Then I'll heal you." She bites her own wrist, drawing blood with sharp white teeth, and places the wound over my mouth.
    "Drink," she says, holding it against my lips, pinching my nose, forcing me to swallow or suffocate. I struggle, horrified at what she does, but she's so strong. "Drink and receive eternal life."
    I swallow – my body forces me and after the first mouthful, an incredible need fills me and I must drink. I grab her wrist, and suck, for the blood is so sweet. And then darkness closes in once more.
    An incredible headache pounds in my temples when I next awaken. The bright sun beaming in from the window beside the bed makes my eyes burn and so I throw a hand over my face and take an accounting of my body. I'm naked beneath a thick coverlet and my body feels as if I've just come back from battle.
    Which, of course, I have – outside Carcassonne. I remember now. How have I come to this place? And more importantly, where am I? The rooms are unfamiliar.
    Cradling my aching head, I sit up on one elbow and glance around. A fire blazes in the hearth, and beside it sits a woman with very pale skin and, due to some trick of lighting, with eyes that seemed to glow red in the firelight. A very beautiful woman with waist-length flaxen hair. She wears a thin nightdress and I can see the hint of a rosy nipple through the muslin.
    "I remember you, but my apologies, my Lady. I can't place your name."
    "You don't know me, but I know you, Sir Julien de Cernay, Knight Defender of the Comte de Toulouse," she says and crosses the floor to stand in the shadows at the foot of the bed. "Bastard son of Vicomte de Clarmont, identical twin of Michel, the very new Bishop of Carcassonne. You're finally awake. How do you feel?"
    "Like shit," I say and grimace at the loudness of my own voice. "Michel's a Bishop now? What of my father?"
    "Dead."
    I frown. He was a brutal father, but still my only one and a wave of sadness fills me. She watches me carefully as if gauging my response.
    "Carcassonne is now in French hands," she says and continues her story. "Michel was given the Bishophood for his loyalty to the Church, while your father lost his life for going against it."
    Michel the Bishop. He has everything he wants now – our father dead and the Bishophood. Betraying our family was good for