the Leathermines

Back to Chapter 8

 

The room was cold.  One candle burnt on the wall and some light came in under the one wooden door, but the light was enough to see around him.  No windows, a few columns and...  He turned on his back onto his tied hands and bumped into a wall.  No, not a wall, part of a stone box.

An altar.  His head spun, but he was able to bring himself to his knees and then his feet.  To look around.

It was cold and he shivered as he paced around the stone floor, seeing nothing that could be used to cut the rope that bound his hands together and his arms to his body.  He stopped at the door and heard a slight scuff of someone trying to stay awake while on guard.

There was little he could do.  He still shivered and could not tell how long he had been asleep.  She had drugged him.  He smiled at that.  It seemed as the poison had been working on her, she stepped around his defenses and took him down when he was not looking.

Blue Master had not given the Princess that much credit.  The old lady had given him the paper already tainted and some information before the half payment.  It seemed to go very well, even with having other messengers to travel with for the last day.  They all had been derisive of King Falmir and the whore daughter he had found.  It was rumored that she was pregnant, but it was not something that Blue Master had mentioned.

His mind was not as fuzzy as he moved around, warming up with awkward steps that had his knees to his chest.  It made sense that he had been stripped, but he was chilly and was having problems keeping warm.  He winded himself moving and trying to warm himself as best he could.  He had to stop when the cold air in the room began to burn his lungs.

He heard something outside the door.  He looked around and could not see a good place to hide or ambush.  He stepped back from the door almost to the altar and stood, waiting.

The door opened outwards, large figures with lanterns coming in and standing at the quarters of the room.  They all had plain clothing, all had a grey-green cape with hood, the hoods pulled up to mask somewhat who they were.

The two servants dressed in black came in.  A sturdy chair was placed in the open space between the door and the altar.  They knelt to either side, keeping their eyes on him.

The Princess was in the doorway.  She waddled in and the door was closed behind her.  She came around and sat on the chair.  She had one of the capes around her over her tunic and skirt, but it fell away from her and she did not seem to need the warmth.

Her eyes were clear.  She did not seem to be having any problems or symptoms of the poison.  In fact, she seemed to be in better health and mood than when he had last seen her in the tent.  He silently swore.

He watched her eyes go down his body and back up again.  Not stopping any particular place, not changing what she was showing.  She was back up to his eyes and she smiled.

“You were sent to kill me.  I am not asking, I know.  Were you also sent to assassinate anyone else?”

He looked at her and took in how calm she was.  How intense the servants were looking at him.  How still the ones holding the lamps were.  He took in a deep breath and shook his head.

Her eyebrow went up.  “I am honored that Blue Master would consider my life important enough to stop.”  She leaned back slightly and rubbed her extended belly.  “Though, it isn’t just my life.  I hope you were paid triple for this job.”

He tried to keep his eyes on her eyes, but his flicked down to her belly and he found he had a dry mouth.  He looked back up to her eyes and saw a slight crinkle to the corners as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“A quiet one.  Interesting.”  She looked at him and rubbed her belly.  She did not say anything for quite some time.  He found that his shivering could not be stopped, even with concentrating on catras running through his mind.  She watched him and started to get a happy look to the calmness on her face.  She put her hand on her braid, moving it through her fingers and bringing it to the front.

She was not unpleasant to look at, but she was fairly plain.  The pregnancy seemed to have rounded her in more than her belly, her face and breasts looking larger than her frame should have had.  Her hair was long, with a straight cut at the end.  He saw a little charm on the end of the braid, tied on with grey ribbon over thong.  Her bell.  Blue Master had said that she was one of those tongueless whores.  They had to warn and there it was.  As it had been on her braid while she was sitting in the tent.  He hadn’t paid it any attention until he had felt his mind closing after drinking the tea.

She sat and continued to watch him, playing with her braid and slightly tilting her head.  He stood, the shivers getting worse, even with the other bodies in the room with him.  It was cold and he was having problems.  He did not want to show weakness, but she had created one that he was having problems with.

She leaned forward and her smile was...real.  “It has been a while since I have had the opportunity to play.  I see you have gone through many of the tests.”  Her chin motioned to the scars from his ranking tests.

He nodded, the motion bringing a need to clench his jaw as the shivering took his neck muscles.

A look of concern went over her face.  “You must be from the South.  The ones from the North never have this much problem.”  She sighed.  “I hope I don’t loose you to the cold before...”  Her smile was back, but there was also a flash of something in her eye.  Something he rarely saw in anyone outside the guild.  And never in the Information Gatherers he had known.

He swallowed.  The dryness in his mouth was spreading.  It made keeping the shivering at bay difficult when he thought that he needed water and then his body would shiver when he blocked the dryness out.  He would stop shivering and keep staring ahead.  Then he would move his tongue or try to swallow.  It was becoming a short cycle.

She stood, no hand offered to her to support.  She stepped forward and stopped only a few handbreadths away from him.  She looked at him, looked at the scars he had, saw the trembling.

He tried to think of how he could go after her with his hands behind him and arms tied to his sides.  Not without having the people around him immediately on him.  He stood and could not stop her from looking at him.

She moved to the side and circled him.  The hem of the cape touched his leg, starting a tremble up his leg that threatened to topple him.  She was behind him.  He could hear her light step but could not tell where she was.

Then his back was both in agony and full of ripples of pleasure.  Her hand was warm.  He could not tell for a moment if she had plunged a knife into his back, but it was just her warm hand.  It was fire and it was warm and it was comfort and it was death.  Her hand on his back made his head go back, his back arching around his bound arms.

Her hand was gone and he was off balance.  He stepped back and found he was against the cold stone of the altar behind him.  She had moved quickly, stood calmly, looking at him with an amused expression.  She waited until he stood back up and stepped close again.  He tried to look forward, but he could feel the heat in her breath as she stood there.  The shivering became uncontrollable, every muscle in his stomach and back cramping and shaking.

Her hand came out from under the cape and hovered above his stomach.  He felt his muscles tighten to keep away from her touch.  Her hand moved up and he had to close his eyes to try to control his body.

She had not killed him.  She was trying for information, but had only asked one question which he had answered.  She was using techniques he had not come across, but similar to ones that Silver Master had used in his second rank test.  Had she been taught by him?  If so, he was screwed.  He had almost not survived Silver’s test.  She was much more subtle.  And seemed to be enjoying what she did.

Her hand went so close to him that even with his eyes closed, he could feel where her hand was.  Above his chest.  Over to one shoulder.  Near his throat.  She stayed there, her hand heating the space to his throat.  He found that he was breathing fast and shallow and he had a need to swallow.  His mouth was so dry that it was almost impossible.  His shivering was running up and down his body and he could not concentrate on anything enough to make anything come completely under his control.

Her hand moved and for a moment, he thought it went back down his chest, but then she touched him and he could not stop the cry out.  Her fingers were lightly on his throat, touching him on his windpipe, his adams apple dryly scraping beneath them.

She stepped closer and he could feel her belly against his hip.  It was warm and it sent shock waves though his body.  His knees gave out, her hand still at his throat.  His knees hit the stone and he cried out in pain.

The fingers never gripped.  They never tensed.  They did not move.  They were still on his throat as he knelt on the stone, his head down and his arms still tied behind him.

He felt her beside him.  She was kneeling, breathing into his ear.  A quiet voice that had a touch of sadness.  “I had such hopes for you.”

Her hand was gone and he found that he was headed for the floor.  Just that light touch had kept his body from falling.  She had taken his strength with her touch.  He had no idea how she had done it.  His head hit the floor and he felt pain and saw light.

He struggled on the floor.  He rolled to his side as his head throbbed.  The light in the room should have been the same, but it seemed dimmer as he tried to get back to his knees.  He finally was on his knees, his arms useless behind him.  She was sitting in the chair, watching him.

He tried to ignore the cold and the pain.  The dryness in his mouth did not matter.  He thought of catras to calm, catras to focus.  It did not work.

“You at least have some fight to you.  That should make you last longer.”  She stood and turned to go.

He saw a flash of jewels under the plain skirt.  Something strapped to her leg.  It made no sense for a noble woman to have jewels hidden under her clothing.  And while being in such a place with him.  The skirt caught on the thing and he was able to focus on it for just long enough to see what it was.  His heart sank.

“I will have an offal bucket brought in for you.  Use it.  If you are good, you will get the use of your hands back.”  She was holding the back of the chair lightly as she stood over him.  The look was plain, calm and the words had some sympathy to them.  The voice was as cold as the room.

He started shivering again.  He saw her tilt her head and look at him, though his eyes did not want to focus.  She came around the chair again and stood by him, looking down at him.  She undid the cape and draped it over him, her warmth chasing the cold away.

She knelt and whispered, “Use the focus catras.”

He felt a shock go through him as the back of her hand went along his cheek, gentle and tender.  She stood and left, her people leaving after her and taking the chair with them.  The door closed and the one candle was the only light still in the room.

She gave him warmth.  She wanted him strong.  For what?  Focus catras.  She was right, they would keep him going, now that she gave him the cape to keep him warm.  Thirst or cold alone he could fight, but both had been too much.

Why was she helping him if she was just going to kill him?  A sister assassin...  The royal warrant blade must have been on her in the tent, too.  Blade and Bell.  A high level rogue who herself was noble, a Princess of the Realm.  Not unknown, but she was so young to have gone through the trials.  And...to be of different greyworld disciplines?

He shifted in the cape and some of the hem went under his sore knees.  He was again much warmer without the stone against his skin, draining his heat.  None of the Masters would have shown kindness or mercy like that.  It was a sign of weakness.

His shivering started to be just a small tremble occasionally as he knelt in the windowless stone room.  He settled in the cape and closed his eyes.  Catras came to mind and he focused on them, blocking out everything else.

 

Onto Chapter 10