Just as the sun was setting behind the trees, they reached an open area. Paxton called for a halt and order for camp to be set up. D’Jacques slid off his horse, to find Renken standing there. The man held up a pair of leather straps. D’Jacques eyed them.
“You didn’t tie me to my saddle on the way here,” he objected.
“A horse is one thing. Having you wander about in the middle of the night on your own is another,” Renken drily replied. “Turn around.”
Knowing he had no choice, D’Jacques did as he was told and held out his wrists behind him. The straps were wrapped and tightened to where he couldn’t remove them, and their width was enough to prevent them from biting into his flesh.
“But what if I had tried to get away when I was on horseback?”
Renken laughed softly as he checked the bind
