“Bind ’em,” their captor commanded.
Forced to his knees in mucky straw, Terric gritted his teeth. “We were simply seeking…”
Dizzied by a cuff to the side of the head by a meaty fist, he struggled to think of a way out of their predicament.
“’Twill be up to Bertha to decide what’s to become of ye,” the giant mumbled.
Terric didn’t know or care who Bertha was, but he preferred not to receive another blow to the head. Adelina’s future depended on him keeping his wits sharp. Using a rough twine, the youth bound his and Roland’s wrists to a wooden partition. On the other side, a large sow rooted at a trough. Thankfully, his cousin continued his role as a mute. The subterfuge might be useful later.
“You can leave,” a commanding voice declared. “I’m here to interrogate the prisoners.”
With his back to the doorway, Terric couldn’t see who had spoken but the mode of speech betrayed a Sussex lilt.
Frowning, the guard hesitated, eyeing the newcomer. Terric got the feeling they weren’t known to each other, but the grumbling giant shuffled off, taking the youth with him.
Exchanging a glance with Roland, Terric braced himself for an inquisition. He swiveled his head at the sound of a mocking voice that declared, “As I live and breathe, Terric de Quincey.”