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An Excerpt From: TEARS OF THE REAPER
 CHARLOTTE BOYETT-COMPO, 2007.
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing
There was a light knock on the door and Elder Dayton went over to open it. He stepped aside as a young woman in a long shapeless black dress that covered her from beneath her chin to the tops of her black boots came in carrying a basin of water and a towel draped over her black clad arm. She nodded respectfully at the men.
"I will warn you, Sister Rachel, your patient has the use of many foul words in his vocabulary. Pay no attention to his ravings. I am sure he would not speak so if he were in his right mind," High Elder Chamberlain told her.
The young woman nodded, the long side strings of the black opaque head covering that fit over her ears and hid nearly all of her pale hair swaying lightly against the front of her shapeless gown.
"Stay and unbind him when 'tis necessary, Elder Barrow, and turn him so she may cleanse his chest and vitals," High Elder Chamberlain instructed as he motioned for the other men to precede him from the room.
Elder Barrow glanced at the young woman and saw heat infusing her high cheeks as she sat the basin on a table beside the bed. "I will see to it, Your Honor. Though he is weak, I would ask that I have an extra pair of hands should he become unruly."
"I will send in my son," Elder Dayton said. "He is much obliged to the Outsider for saving Jonas' life. Bathe your patient as best you can, Sister Rachel, until Brother Edward joins you."
Once again the young woman nodded. It was not her place to speak before the Elders and had she so much as uttered a single word, would have been severely beaten for her thoughtlessness.
Rachel Lawrence barely glanced at the sweaty man lying on the bed. With his arms and legs securely lashed to the iron uprights of the bed, he could do no more than writhe on the mattress. Because his was the first naked male body she had ever seen, she felt a nervousness that made her hands tremble as she dipped a rag into the warm water, slathered it with a bar of the lye soap she took from the voluminous pocket of her gown, and then wrung it out. Very gently, she ran the rag from the bound man's right wrist to his elbow.
The door opened quietly and a tall, very muscular man came into the room. The front of his dark blue shirt was plastered to his chest and his face was sweaty. He closed the door just as quietly behind him and stood with his arms folded over his broad chest. He nodded respectfully at the Elder, unable to speak to him until the Elder spoke.
"How goes the ironwork today, Brother Edward?" Elder Barrow inquired.
"It goes well, thank you," the tall man replied. Being the Colony's chief blacksmith, his was a dirty, tiring job and he welcome the respite coming into the Sick Room afforded him.
"Don't!"
Rachel jumped as she ran the washrag over her patient's shoulder and he jerked, his head coming up, eyes snapping open. He turned a furious face toward her and she was stunned that he wore no beard at his age. In that initial moment of staring into his enraged amber eyes, Rachel felt something inside her give way, melt, break free, and she began to hear the blood pounding through her ears.
"Don't put your hands on me, wench!" he yelled at her. He pulled mightily against his bonds, his wrists already bleeding from the constant tugging.
"Continue with your task, Sister Rachel," Elder Barrow said calmly. "He can not do harm to you. Ignore his statements."
It was more than just the fact that the Outsider had no hair on his face but that his face was by far the most handsome she had ever seen. His dark hair--streaked with sweat--was falling in waves over eyes the color of rich amber. She wanted to push it from his eye, run her fingers through it, to stroke his sweaty cheek. She wanted him to put those muscular arms around her and hold her.
Her lower lip tucked between her teeth, Rachel rinsed the rag out again and soaped it, wrung it out and laid it carefully on the man's back. Such feelings for a man were forbidden, sinful yet she wanted desperately to lie down beside him and take him into her arms.
"Don't touch me, you bitch!" he screamed at her. "Don't put your filthy hands on me again!"
No one in the room had any way of knowing that the hallucinations plaguing the patient were far more sinister than a mere woman bathing his fevered flesh. In his mind, he was seeing a spindly-thin pale gray creature with large eyes the color of pitch leaning over him. He was jerking madly at the shackles and causing his skin to split farther apart at the wrists and ankles.
Elder Barrow walked over to the bed. "Be calm, Lord Reaper." He gave the young woman a stern look. "Finishing bathing him." He hunkered down by the bed, placing a gentle hand on the Reaper's shoulder.
Owen snapped his head around, his teeth bared, his breath coming in gasps. He frowned at seeing a man kneeling there.
"Listen to me, milord," Elder Barrow said. "We are merely trying to help you. No one is attempting to harm you or molest you in any way." He reached up to smooth the hair back from the patient's eyes. "You have been very ill and you must be bathed. It will make you feel much better. Try to lie still until it is done."
"Don't let her cut me," Owen pleaded, his eyes welling with tears, his lower lip trembling. "Please don't let her do that to me again."
Elder Barrow glanced at Brother Edward, who went immediately to the other side of the bed. The blacksmith braced one hand on the tall iron headboard, keeping well out of Rachel's way.
"No one is going to hurt you, milord," Elder Barrow assured him, distracting him from the task at hand. He continued to stroke the patient's hair and talk softly to him as Sister Rachel made quick work of bathing his back and legs. When she was finished, she looked up at Edward. "Unlock the shackles on his ankles. I will see to this wrist." He caught Rachel's eyes. "See to the other, Sister."
Rachel's heart went out to the patient as she saw the damage he'd already done to his wrist. It was chaffed raw all the way around it and the flesh was broken open in places, oozing blood. As gently as she could, she unbound him.
"Help me to ease him over, Brother Edward," Elder Barrow asked.
Owen whimpered as the two men put hands to his shoulder and hip and rolled him to his back. The moment the younger of the two moved to the foot of the bed and the older lifted the Reaper's arm, he knew they were about to shackle him again.
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