Broken Crossroads (Knights of the Shadows Book 1) Read Online Free
Author: Patrick LeClerc
and that was its purpose. It wasn't designed for defense, and that was fortunate. In the gloom of the courtyard Trilisean waited, crouched in the shadow of an ancient elm, scanning for patrolling guards.
* * *
“I was a slave. I grew up in the pens. I never knew my parents. I don't know if they were slaves, if I was captured in a raid as an infant, or if I was sold or taken to pay a debt. I grew up knowing my life was strange, but not what normal was. At around twelve, I'm not sure because I don't know the date of my birth, I found out what I was intended for. I was to be sold as a pleasure slave. All the glory of whoring without the pay. I wasn't having that.”
* * *
He crouched beside Trilisean. “Move when I move,” she breathed. “There are soldiers on the grounds.”
He waited, trying to steady his heartbeat, until she glided forward to another patch of cover. He followed quietly. While definitely less skilled than she, he was no amateur. Conn had fought a war of ambush in the forests and hills of Aeran. He had survived because he had learned to move quietly and patiently.
After several more bounds, they reached the wall of the house. The building was of stone, ancient and weathered. There were windows of real leaded glass, fitted within wooden latticework. It must have been costly at one time, but now the wood was beginning to show its age.
Trilisean crept to a window, and slid a small, supple metal pick in between the frames of the two halves.
After a moment, she swung the windows carefully open and climbed through. Conn followed.
* * *
“I escaped. I knew how to dance, and how to move lightly, so I managed to join a group of entertainers. I learned juggling, knife throwing, acrobatics. All of which were to prov…” she paused, seeking an appropriate word, then smiled, “useful.”
* * *
They found themselves in a neglected sitting room. A relic of grander days, it now served as storage. Furniture stood draped in cloth, and chests were piled in haphazard stacks. The air was thick with dust.
“We'll leave this room, turn right down a hallway. The third door is the stairway to the cellars. That's where our goal is,” she explained. “Nobody should notice this window unlocked, or scratches near the latch. Nobody comes in here.”
She paused at the sound of footsteps in the hallway. They waited in silence for the sound to pass, but the steps stopped at the door. They heard muffled voices, and giggling as the handle was turned. With a stifled curse, Conn and Trilisean rolled under a large oaken table, the cloth over it hanging almost to the floor. Conn put his head on its side and peered under the cloth with one eye.
The door swung open. In the dim light from the hallway, he saw two pairs of feet, one large and booted and the other small, delicate and in the simple sandals of a servant girl. The newcomers made their way into the room with whispers and giggles, closing the door furtively behind them. The sounds of kissing and breathy murmurs soon replaced the giggles. The two pair of feet, now moving together, came to a halt beside the table. The table creaked as the couple leaned against it.
Conn, new to the role of voyeur, stifled a laugh and looked at Trilisean. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw her bite her lip to stop the laughter. Master burglar foiled by servants' illicit affair.
Above their hiding place, the couple grew more urgent. Soft moans accompanied the kissing sounds, and soon they heard the rustle of clothing sliding away. There was a grunt as the woman's feet were lifted away from the floor and the table creaked with her weight upon it.
As a pair of trousers slid down into view around the booted ankles, Conn bit his hand to keep quiet.
Soon, the table began to creak rhythmically to the accompaniment of soft groans both masculine and feminine. Eventually, the couple above reached the inevitable climax.
The noises above changed to soft
* * *
“I was a slave. I grew up in the pens. I never knew my parents. I don't know if they were slaves, if I was captured in a raid as an infant, or if I was sold or taken to pay a debt. I grew up knowing my life was strange, but not what normal was. At around twelve, I'm not sure because I don't know the date of my birth, I found out what I was intended for. I was to be sold as a pleasure slave. All the glory of whoring without the pay. I wasn't having that.”
* * *
He crouched beside Trilisean. “Move when I move,” she breathed. “There are soldiers on the grounds.”
He waited, trying to steady his heartbeat, until she glided forward to another patch of cover. He followed quietly. While definitely less skilled than she, he was no amateur. Conn had fought a war of ambush in the forests and hills of Aeran. He had survived because he had learned to move quietly and patiently.
After several more bounds, they reached the wall of the house. The building was of stone, ancient and weathered. There were windows of real leaded glass, fitted within wooden latticework. It must have been costly at one time, but now the wood was beginning to show its age.
Trilisean crept to a window, and slid a small, supple metal pick in between the frames of the two halves.
After a moment, she swung the windows carefully open and climbed through. Conn followed.
* * *
“I escaped. I knew how to dance, and how to move lightly, so I managed to join a group of entertainers. I learned juggling, knife throwing, acrobatics. All of which were to prov…” she paused, seeking an appropriate word, then smiled, “useful.”
* * *
They found themselves in a neglected sitting room. A relic of grander days, it now served as storage. Furniture stood draped in cloth, and chests were piled in haphazard stacks. The air was thick with dust.
“We'll leave this room, turn right down a hallway. The third door is the stairway to the cellars. That's where our goal is,” she explained. “Nobody should notice this window unlocked, or scratches near the latch. Nobody comes in here.”
She paused at the sound of footsteps in the hallway. They waited in silence for the sound to pass, but the steps stopped at the door. They heard muffled voices, and giggling as the handle was turned. With a stifled curse, Conn and Trilisean rolled under a large oaken table, the cloth over it hanging almost to the floor. Conn put his head on its side and peered under the cloth with one eye.
The door swung open. In the dim light from the hallway, he saw two pairs of feet, one large and booted and the other small, delicate and in the simple sandals of a servant girl. The newcomers made their way into the room with whispers and giggles, closing the door furtively behind them. The sounds of kissing and breathy murmurs soon replaced the giggles. The two pair of feet, now moving together, came to a halt beside the table. The table creaked as the couple leaned against it.
Conn, new to the role of voyeur, stifled a laugh and looked at Trilisean. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw her bite her lip to stop the laughter. Master burglar foiled by servants' illicit affair.
Above their hiding place, the couple grew more urgent. Soft moans accompanied the kissing sounds, and soon they heard the rustle of clothing sliding away. There was a grunt as the woman's feet were lifted away from the floor and the table creaked with her weight upon it.
As a pair of trousers slid down into view around the booted ankles, Conn bit his hand to keep quiet.
Soon, the table began to creak rhythmically to the accompaniment of soft groans both masculine and feminine. Eventually, the couple above reached the inevitable climax.
The noises above changed to soft
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