the Leathermines

Back to Chapter 6

 

The rocking of the cart was comforting, though she knew that she was not supposed to be there.

Laun did not open her eyes.  She felt light headed and it was not just the sway of the cart.  She was laying on padding...  She remembered pillows and sheepskins and she did smell sheep.  There were multiple horses around her, but not all going the same pace, or in the same direction.  There was a tight feeling around her wrists...rope.  It was dark.

Laun opened her eyes when she realized that it was not just dark behind her eyelids, it was dark outside, too.  She was in the back of the cart that Silar had taken her to the Spring filled glade in.  She could not see Silar from where she was, but she was in a four-sided cart with a basket next to her face.  She could see that there was rope around her wrists, expertly tied so that she could not get out.  She flexed her hands slightly and there was pain, the pain she knew from when her wrists went out of place.

They must have been traveling all day.  She could not tell when the sun had gone down, but they were in an area that was being fairly well traveled.  She heard another set of footsteps going past in the other direction, and some low voices.  The cart went past the voices and turned a corner.  It was quieter along this stretch of road.

They traveled for at least another hour before she felt the cart being pulled off the roadway and onto the grass beside.  Laun’s back was hurting, but she had not moved from where she had woken, trying to make sense of what was going on.

The basket was taken from by her head and she finally saw Silar.  She had no doubts that it had been Silar to do this.  She had walked into some sort of trap.  He saw that she was awake and frowned.

“How long have you been awake?”  His voice was not toneless, but there was very little emotion in it.

Laun did not speak.  She just looked at him from her position in the cart.  He shrugged and reached for a few other things from the cart.  She heard him setting up some sort of camp and making a fire.  There was light on the other side of the cart before he stood again where she could see him.

“If I unbind you, will you run?”

“I promise to not run from you.  I have never broken a promise to you.”

Silar had a bit of a start but nodded.  He reached in and cut the rope and backed away from the cart.  “Can you get up?”  Laun did not even nod to him.  She was rubbing her wrists, trying to put them back into place.  He started to reach for her and she pushed herself up, feeling where she had not quite gotten one bone back in quite right.

“I have some of the food from the keep...”  Silar saw the cold stare from Laun and had to look away.  

Laun climbed out of the cart using the wheel next to her and stood stretching for a moment, wrapping the long cloth back around her to keep the night air out.  She felt a kick and smiled.  At least the baby was still active after the drugging.  Unfortunately, so was her stomach.  The acid that had crawled up while she was asleep was painful and her throat felt like she was eating fire.

Silar was standing, knife at the ready.  Laun looked at him in the face, down at the knife and then raised her eyebrow when she looked up again.  He turned away again and put the knife back in it’s sheath on his belt.

Laun stepped towards the fire.  The rug was lain out next to it.  She went to the far end of the rug from Silar and sat, awkwardly, but she was down and crosslegged facing the fire.  Silar had a wooden trencher with some of the tidbits Orgia had packed for them.

“I told her that I didn’t know what the baby let you eat, so she packed a bunch...”  Silar was holding the trencher out to her and she was just looking at him.  He put the trencher down on the rug between them and turned to look at the fire.

Laun looked and saw in the firelight a few of her favorites.  She was very hungry.  And the acid was very painful.  She lifted a pinch of dried duck up and into her mouth.  It was divine, and she knew it had been the last in the pantry.  As was the hard cheese sliced and placed on the trencher.  She took one of the three slices.  She ate it, savoring the slight saltiness.

“There is more if...”  Laun had turned and lain down on the rug away from Silar.  She was not tired as the drugs had worn off and her natural energy level seemed to have come back.  She could not face him any more.  He had kidnapped her.  There was no excuse, no reason she could see that he would have done such a thing.

Silar was not as angry as he had been.  She had rejected him in front of the household.  He could not stand for that.  His pride would not allow her to continue to be with the other men once she had said that she loved him.  The sex was good.  The Play was some of the best he had endured.  Once she had come out and said that she loved him, she had to be his.  He could not share.  Not any more.

He had thought as he stayed away from her, fuming and getting angrier.  If they had been alone, it still would have hurt.  But being told in front of all those people that she would rather marry her soft-as-cream cousin over him, that ripped his heart out.  He had the offer from the greyworld still there.  He reached into himself and knew that to take Laun away from Salam-Dir to be presented to King Falmir would be the best revenge he could arrange.

But...  Now that they had been on the road for most of a day, he was having second thoughts.  He had not thought things through.  He felt bad about those who had been left behind to wonder about them, about her.  He would miss the household.  It had become home, the first he had been afforded in several years.  He had just broken all of the trust he had won with Laun.  That started to hurt even more than the rejection.

He was wondering about what he had slipped her.  She had downed most of the cider before sitting on his lap.  He had been talking to Pillar about not sleeping well and the healer had brought out this phial, telling him that just a drop would put most people out for most of a night, two drops for a night and a day.  Silar had used three drops in the cider, thinking that she would have been asleep until the next morning.

His eyes went wide and was glad that Laun was not looking at him.  He had not taken the baby into account.  The baby.  They did not know who’s it was.  It could be his, and he could have just hurt his own baby.  In his anger, he had not taken that into account.  At all.

Laun moved slightly, her back obviously hurting.  Silar knew her body, how she moved and could see right where she needed rubbing.  She would not let him touch her.  He knew that.

Silar ate some of the food and put the rest away.  Pillows and sheepskins were pulled from the cart and he put one of the skins over Laun.  She pulled at it to cover her shoulders, but that was all.

The dark man sat on the rug, watching the fire for a while.  He was still angry, some because she would not talk to him.  He could not go back now.

He banked the fire and pulled another one of the sheepskins over himself.  He faced her and wanted to touch her.  She had curled up around herself and he hoped that her mind’s darkness had not taken her too far.

Laun was still awake, aware and too angry to have the darkness come up.  It was hiding, not showing it’s self because it knew it could be rent from her with the rage she was under.  She was keeping her breathing level, trying to only move when the pain in her back or legs was too great.  She heard him bed down and fought off the shivers that she had, some of them from the cold, but some from the pent-up adrenaline floating around her system.

If only she had not promised to run away.  She did not promise to let him live...  NO, Laun thought to herself.  She had to let this play out.  He had a past that she knew was shady.  He had ties to the greyworld and she thought that perhaps they had been able to contact him and she was his prize to them.  Her eyes opened and she saw the low glow of the fire on some close trees.  He was taking her to Falmir.  She knew there had to be a bounty on her.  With his anger and embarrassment, that combined into trouble for her.

It was a frosty night and Laun was awake through most of it.  Silar dipped in and out of sleep until there was a light fog on the ground in the early morning.  There was some light and he could see that Laun was no longer under the sheepskin.

He rolled over and faced his own dagger in the ground next to the rug.  His hand went to his belt and the sheath was still there.  He saw her up and going through one of the forms as she did every morning.

She had just told him that she could have killed him at any time in the night.  With his own blade.  She had shown yet another skill that he had not counted on.

She was in fine form that morning.  Strong movements that flowed together.  A focus that had a core of ice within it.  And a flip to her hand he had not taught her, but would be good if she had a knife... Like the one with it’s blade facing him.

He sat up, the sheepskin falling off to let in the cold morning.  He pulled the knife from the ground and scraped the dirt off along the sole of his boot before replacing it in his sheath.  She must have known he was there, watching her.  She just started the form again and ignored everything else.

He brought the fire back to life and warmed himself next to it.  She was still doing the forms, changing in the middle of one to another.  He could see who she was fighting.  He was afraid that she would win.  He wanted to be the balance to that form, he knew she already saw him there.  Her strikes were aimed where it would hurt him the most.  The evades were ones he knew he had trouble recovering from.  She knew him as well as he knew her.

He brought out more food and placed it on the trencher, trying to make it look edible.  He had not done anything domestic for himself before finding himself at Salam-Dir.  He still was not good at most of it, but Orgia had been delighted at his arm strength and had used him more often than he would have liked.  He had picked up a few things in the kitchens, a few thrills too...

Another pang of regret went through him.  Laun had been his focus, but there had been others.  Very willing others.  He was going to miss Ali most of all.  It had been a shock when he learned that she was a she, not a he.  It explained much, but Ali was still the best mouth in the household.  He had hoped to have lain on top of her at some point, but she was not ready.  For any man, yet.

He finished putting the food on the trencher and laid it on the rug.  He stepped away to relieve himself, a tinge of fear in him that she would still try to run.  He stepped back and she was still in the form, doing the last finishing steps, turning and thrusting as though a knife had just gone into someone’s belly.

She was panting and put her hands on her back.  He heard the pop of her wrists as she tried to support herself.  She did not flinch, the look on her face did not change.  She did turn and look at him, the cold anger under her calm face.

“There is food.”  Silar motioned to the rug.  She nodded once and went to the side of the rug where she had slept, pulling the sheep around her.  She reached out and gathered up a pinch of one thing and a pinch of another, but no more.

Silar sat on the other side of the trencher.  He took some of the food and ate.  He suppressed his hunger, trying to match what she ate.  It was not much.

“I’m taking you to...”  Her eyes blazed.  She had already figured it out.  He did not have to say more and he had to look away.  He could not face the anger in her.

She sat.  He could feel her eyes on him.  He could not just sit there, so he busied himself with putting things back in the cart.  She was on her feet, still wrapped in the sheepskin, but off the rug when he turned back from the cart.  He rolled up the rug and put everything in.  She threw the sheepskin into the cart and climbed up using the wheel.  She sat as he put out the fire and put the hobbled mule back in the harness.

He could not look directly at her.  She did not take her eyes off of him.  She would not speak.  As they traveled, no matter what he said to her, she would not speak, and most of the time, the look in her eyes told him that he did not really want to know the answer she had.

It became a very warm day.  The clouds were sparse and the sun shown down very bright and hot.  Laun unwrapped herself layer by layer until she was down to just a tunic.  Silar could not do more than unbuckle his leather jerkin and hope for a breeze.

Laun sat back and allowed the sun to warm her as she was in the cart.  She shielded her eyes with her arm and let sleep take her.  She knew what she looked like in the cart to Silar and she wanted to drive him to distraction.  She had pulled up the tunic so that her best leg scars were showing before she had lain back.  She also knew that she would be pink where the sun hit her, but the torture she was trying to provide to him was worth it.

It was working.  Silar glanced back once as he was holding the lead on the mule from his horse and saw the legs.  She was asleep, her face turned so that he could see the true calm she had when she was dreaming good dreams.  Her arm was shielding her eyes, the light scars on her wrists and forearms showing, but not as much as the legs.

He had to force himself to look forward.  To not look at her sleeping form.  But he knew those scars.  The lightly raised places that the arming harness had rubbed raw.  The wide scar on her hip, the scar she had received fighting the scout on her side above.  And the one over her breast.  He caught himself glancing back, but he could not see the scar that was across her one breast.  He could almost see the one he had given her on her shoulder...

No.  He had to focus on bringing her to his Master in the Guild.  The Sand Master would be able to take Laun off his hands and present her to the upstart Falmir.  Silar nodded to himself.  He did not believe that Falmir was in the right, but he had just torn a household apart with his actions in the name of the false King.  Sand Master would know what to do.

If they pushed that day, it would be yet another day before they reached the Capitol City. 

Then he could get away and try to forget that this happened.

But he found his eyes were searching out Laun again.  It wasn’t just the scars.  He had grown to depend on her.  Her stability, though she thought she was not, brought him stability.  Her willingness to try new things, and learning quickly.  Her precision when she took him down...

He found he was leading the cart off the road.  There were no other travelers, so he figured it might be a good time to take a break.  She stirred after the cart had been still for a while and the mule had been unhooked and hobbled near a puddle.  Silar had already stretched and found a more out of the way place to relieve himself.  Though, that was slightly hard because he was slightly hard.  It took concentration to bring himself down so that he could water the bushes.

Laun pulled her tunic down and climbed out of the cart.  She went over to the same puddle the mule was drinking from and scooped water up with her hand.  Silar started to say something about the drink he had in the basket, but stopped when she glared up at him.  She moved to behind a short bush and took advantage of the privacy.  He could still see the top of her head and she made no moves to try to bolt.

She had made a promise.  She was keeping it.

Laun came out from the bushes with her tunic up around her hips.  Silar turned away.  He glanced back and found that she was using the water to clean herself.  She stood, slightly off balance, and went back to the cart.  She sat, facing a slightly different way than before and waited.

Silar was getting angry again.  She would not speak!  She would only glare.  Even when he was trying to be kind.  The bitch.  He reharnessed the mule and started them on their way again.  Laun did not take long to settle down and go back to sleep.  He fumed.

Silar saw where they were as the sun was going down.  They had made excellent time and would only be a few hours away from the Sand Master.  But it was getting dark, and he was not entirely sure of the roads between where they were and where they needed to go.

It was still hot.  There was little air movement and Silar took his leather jerkin off as he made camp.  The fire was more for light than for heat right then, but he knew that the temperature could fall suddenly in the Spring.  The rug was down beside the fire and Laun sat, seemingly ignoring him.  He had more of the food out and found that one of the crocks had been milk.  Silar knew that her stomach must have been angry at her, but the milk had gone bad and he poured it out on the ground next to the fire.

That was the first actual reaction he had seen from her in the last day.  She must have been in agony for the trip.  Good, Silar thought to himself.  Let her feel some of what she had given to him.  Perhaps he would eat all the food himself, too.

A little voice called to him within himself.  He knew he could not deny her.  She had already been denying herself, and his child...  The child could not go on without food.

The trencher had more food on it than before, almost all of what had been in the basket.  Silar ate some because he had not eaten much on the road himself, but then he placed the entire trencher right in front of Laun.

She was cross legged on the rug looking at the fire.  She looked down at the food and then up to him.  She tilted her head for a moment and then started to eat.  She ate almost a third of what was there before stopping.  He could not tell if it was because she was full or because that was as much as she was allowing herself to have.  It was almost ten minutes of the trencher before her, but no movement from her, before Silar snapped.

It wasn’t the food.  It was her.  She was so damnably quiet in everything she did.  She would not look at him except for with that stare that wrenched at him.  He wanted to cram that food down her throat.  He wanted to hit her until she begged for mercy.  He wanted to fuck her until she bled.

Her pain, his pleasure.  He pushed the trencher away and grabbed her hair.  He heard a small gasp, but she did not resist as he pinned her head down to the rug.  He forced his mouth onto hers, but there was nothing to her, her mouth opened to him, but the lively tongue he knew was in there was lax.  He lifted his face from hers and she just let her head fall to the side away from him.

He took her arms and lifted them above her head, her breasts straining the fabric of the tunic.  He used one hand to restrain her arms at the wrists as he pushed the tunic up over her belly.  She was already spread open as she had been crosslegged.  His hand went down to her fur and stroked along her nub and lips.  There was nothing from her.  No reaction at all.

He released her arms and went to his knees.  She just laid there, her head turned away from him, her wrists crossed as if his hand still was around them.  He was very angry.  He was her best lover and now she had nothing for him?

His leather breeches went down and he untied his cockring from the restraining thong.  His loincloth was pushed to the side and he positioned himself between her legs.  He had to move her ankles to get her legs out of the way.

There was a flash of something.  Above them, a meteor shower was starting in the darkening sky.  Yellow streaks of light going East to West started to light the sky.  It was very bright, out shining the fire behind him.

He could see that she really was not reacting.  Not even a tear was at the corner of her eye.  Laun’s breathing was normal.  Silar thought he could change that.

His fingers went into her.  She was warm, but not as wet as she normally would be.  He tried to get her to sigh, to moan, to do anything.  He moved her legs further apart to see if it was the angle and she was just limp.  Her legs fell to the side as though nothing was keeping them together.

He needed to fuck her, to show her that he was in control.  That she needed him as much as he needed her.  He reached down and felt that his erection had faded.  Silar tried stroking himself, spitting into his hand for lubrication, making himself hard to take her.

He couldn’t.

Silar released her and sat back, looking at her.  She rolled over.  Her back was to him and he could see the line of her womanhood peaking out at him from between her legs and ass.  But his manhood would not respond.  That had never happened to him before.  He had raped before.  It was not uncommon in the ranks of soldiers and greyworlders he had run in.  He had forced himself on women who had wanted his attentions, but had to be convinced.  He had serviced his old Mistress, the memory bringing a grimace to his frown.  He had never failed to go through with it.

Silar refastened himself into his breeches and sat, looking at Laun again.  There really was no turning back.  There wasn’t even a shred of respect left in her for him.

Silar went to the cart and easily found the sheepskins in the light from overhead.  He looked at them for a while, his eyes going to the red flares that popped on the ends of some of the yellow trails.  The ShipFall shower had started when he had started forcing her.  If he had still been in his home kingdom, his soothsayer would have called the timing portentous.  Perhaps even a bad omen.

The sheepskin was partially placed over Laun, but she didn’t even pull it over her shoulder.  The meteor shower blazed overhead, the red and yellow flames in the sky lighting her rounded belly naked to the night.

 

Entrance to the Capitol City in Chapter 8.