LIRIENNE
My body was on fire. I must have been feeling the heat so much because of how badly I fought to keep my senses awake. Each time the wheels of the cart climbed over a stone I was tossed to another end of the cage. My wolf whined in the back of my head. She was trying to keep up with the bane that was continuously leeching off any strength in my bones.
I wasn't going to die today. I had a lot of expectations in my life, the mode of my death being one of them. It was never meant to be as cheap as this. Sold by a loser I just had sex with for change that won't feed him for a year, even in the filthiest parts of the capital? Bound in a sack like meat to be sacrificed at the foot of a stupid god?
Don't close your eyes, Lirienne!
I gritted my jaw as I kept fighting. I waited for the cart to hit another bump in the road. As soon as the vehicle lurched again and I was flung over, I used the momentum to break the thick binds on my wrists.
The cart immediately stopped.
I froze, clutching the ropes and my hands together like they were still bound. From the holes in the sack, I could see two ugly faces observing me like vultures. All I had to do was not move. They soon looked away and the cart lurched forward again.
My heart fluttered with relief to find that the knife strapped to my thigh was still there. Moral lesson: Always carry at least two knives; three if you can. While keeping my heavy eyes on them I pulled it off. This was the point where making a single noise could end me.
The cart was now making a lazy climb up a hill. Knife clutched as tightly as possible, watching their mouths move as they gossiped, I slowly dragged the blade sideways across the sack. A sigh of cold air kissed my ankles. I cut the ropes around them as well.
One of them turned around. His forehead slowly rose at the sight of his prey locking eyes with him.
"That wench!" He alerted the others.
I blindly rolled out of the sack, hitting the edge of the cart. Although my legs weren't as steady as I needed them to be, I still scrambled over the cart and found myself tumbling down the steep slope. I met a strong impact at the foot of the hill, whining from the pain. There was a piece of wood lodged deep in my knee. Right above me were three silhouettes furiously descending in my direction.
My dagger was gone too.
Run.
"Grrh…" I forced the wood out of my knee. My leg was split with fire and my sight went black for a moment. But I got up and limped away, fighting the taste of vomit that was curling up my stomach.
Hours and hours passed; a new day was breaking, I was still on the move. The bane had worn off my body, but I was just as tired as anyone would be if they were running for so long. I took a rest under the canopy of a tree. I had enough time to catch my breath, add extra herbs to my wound and relieve some stress.
I must have fallen asleep, because the sounds of dry twigs breaking somewhere behind me made me realize it was fully morning. They might catch up again. I ended my leisure and kept moving.
Today, I was certain I had better chances of escape; of finding somewhere new—once I managed to get on a boat across the sea. Unfortunate that I kind of had to start afresh yet again. I could have lived off the money I hid under the bed back at the house. My new rent tenure was only a few days old too. What a waste.
And Ger, he would have what's coming for him as soon as I had the time for that.
Right now, I could use some food.
Staring at the clearing below, I saw three tents. My stomach clenched at the thought of finding food down there. Some water maybe. I continued clumsily towards the space that now felt a lot like another's territory as I entered it. There was a faint scent of citrus in the air and I stared at the farthest tent where it seemed to be coming from.
The first taste of juice on my tongue and I could feel myself come alive. Food was indeed life. If only they left some meat hanging….smoked venison…or even a squirrel. I devoured two more oranges, now peeling the fourth as the spray of citrus stung my eyes.
Someone was coming.
Looking through the space in the tent, I saw two men striding into the clearing. Not much difference between either except one of them had a huge slice of raw meat that made my mouth water hanging over his shoulder. Beef.
One set to work washing the meat while the other prepared the fire and all I did was watch, the half-peeled orange in my hand no longer palatable.
The one crouching by the fire suddenly turned his face around, sniffing the air.
"I smell dung."
"I thought I did too," his partner affirmed.
The former now stared straight at my tent.
I lifted my arm and sniffed myself. It was me.
A flood of light filled the tent as a flap of it was opened. Two stern faces stared at me.
"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have come in here without permission but I was starving."
Jerking to my knees, I immediately swept the peels around me into a pile.
"I'll leave now. Thank you for the food."
As I got up, I snatched two more oranges and rushed outside towards the uphill path I had come from. I immediately regretted not begging for some meat instead.
I resumed eating anyway and was observing the connecting roads, wondering where to go next when the bushes ahead of me parted. Some men stepped out of it.
"Get her!"
I flung the fruits away and took to my heels. Back down the slope I went, disturbing the tent men again.
"Rogues! Rogues are coming," I screamed.
The men went into attack mode immediately and I burst into the same tent to grab a pitchfork I'd noticed there earlier. I hoped I wouldn't resort to using it.
Rogues were detested and treated as criminals. Thieves. Having been one of them many years back, I could agree that there was usually a lot of thieving and infiltrating, but there were a lot who honestly worked for their food and had integrity. Just as not everyone under a pack was "good", not all rogues were "bad". Even lone wolves, like I currently was, were sometimes called rogues too.
But for the first time today, I relished the sight of what it looked like to hate a rogue. Their claws protruded and replaced their fingers, skin darkening as they prepared for the men rushing down the clearing.
I clenched my fingers around the fork, wishing I could do that too without having to shift completely. But that was one of the few perks of being a legitimate member of a pack that I only got jealous of once in a while.
"Stay back!" The meatman snarled at the group.
The heavy thudding of their boots stopped just before the line of stones marking the territory.
"The wench who ran in here just now, hand her over and we're gone." It was the one who doused my senses with bane earlier.
Then the man who had paid Ger, seeming to me like their leader, stepped forward and raised his arms placatingly with a dirty smirk I so badly wanted to punch off his face.
"Look, we're no men of trouble, okay? A girl ran in here, I believe you saw her too. She's our property. So kindly help us fetch her out and we'll be on our way."
"What girl?"
That was a different voice. Calmer, like a soft breeze trying to break through a storm.
I dared to take a look.
Bronze skin. He shone especially under the morning sun, making the others almost look sallow. His thick dark hair covered the side of his face so I only saw the clean line of his nose.
"You must be the master around here," the leader said. He then nodded at the tents. "Something of ours slipped into one of these. We'll just collect it and be gone."
The man's gaze slid sideways and I stepped back slowly. Then I saw the shadow of his legs approaching the tent. He opened the flap and we locked eyes. His ones were the blackest I've ever seen.
I shook my head slowly, whispering, "They'll kill me."
"Please."
His eyes went down my dress and stopped on the greenish wound on my exposed knee.
"Come out."
My heart began to pound more wildly and the hairs on my skin stood even straighter. He's handing me over.
"Did you hear me? They're going to kill me for a sacri—"
"I said get out."
Taking a deep sigh, I gripped the fork tight and did as told. My insides coiled with pure terror and disgust. If these men took me, there wouldn't be any room for escape so I had better fight to my death.
"That's the one!" The leader clapped.
"You can have her…" The man told them.
I grit my teeth hard, pointing my weapon shakily at the nearest person to come for me.
Then he came and placed himself between me and the cult, his broad back blocking my view.
"…if you fight me and win."