by D.E. Dunlop
“Come, now. Don’t be so cruel. I merely want you to feel appreciated. You are, after all, the best there is. You should be treated like the best.” Kathryn snapped her fingers and a couple of servants came running in with brightly coloured clothing. They quickly laid them out and another couple of servants came with brilliant, gleaming, oil tinged armour and laid it beside the clothes.
“What do you want from me?” Angela asked again.
“My dear, as I said you are the best. These garments and armour will make you quite distinct in the ring and your fans will recognize you immediately as will your opponents. They will be struck with an even greater fear than they ever imagined possible when you enter.” Kathryn explained.
“I told you, I don’t need your gifts.” Angela answered.
“Oh, I’m not finished my dear.” Kathryn motioned to the door leading to the maid’s chambers and the guards pushed Angela along behind Kathryn as she entered the side room.
The room had been meticulously arranged with materials just as bright as those laid out in the other room. There was a large bed with pillows and lounging chairs set about. The whole scene nearly softened the presence of the bars on the high arched windows and the cage door that would be locked behind the wooden door.
“This will be your home.”
“And what of the rest of my team?” Angela asked.
“They are not the best, are they? You are.” Kathryn answered with her face only centimetres from hers.
Angela spit directly in the princess’ face in response. The princess merely looked at one of the guards and motioned with her head to the pillar in the middle of the room. The guards quickly shackled Angela to the marble post so her arms were around it and her face was pressed against it.
Kathryn stepped close behind Angela and pressed her own cheek tightly to Angela’s so she felt her face squish against the marble column.
“You ungrateful little trollop.” She whispered menacingly in her ear. “I saved you from becoming dog food. I offer to treat you as a great warrior even though you’re nothing but a conquered cur and you give me thanks through spit!” Kathryn put her hand in the middle of Angela’s back and pushed herself back roughly. She took a length of leather with sharp stones woven into it and began to whip Angel across the back. Angela clenched her teeth and flexed against the chains. Her anger and indignation swelled within her.
‘How dare this pampered, prissy little brat do this to me; a seasoned warrior!’ She thought to herself while her blood began to seep through the tearing garment. After about twenty strikes Kathryn stopped and resumed her former position against Angela’s back.
“Had enough, my sweet? Perhaps you won’t be so ill mannered now. What do you say? Will you accept the gifts of my adoration?”
“I told you. I don’t want your gifts.” Angela replied through clenched teeth.
Kathryn looked at her coldly. She reached into the torn shirt, purposefully and carefully; she dug her nails into the stripes on her prisoner’s back, grabbed hold of the shirt and ripped it wide. The princess took hold of a fist full of Angela’s lacerated flesh and whispered, once again, in her ear while twisting her bleeding wounds.
“Perhaps you will be more receptive when you have nothing left.” Kathryn then smacked Angela’s head against the pillar and walked toward the door. She looked at the guard with bloody fingers in her mouth and motioned over her shoulder at Angela with a nod.
“Do something with her.” She said and walked out and closed the door.
“You promised us freedom!” Angela screamed back as the door slammed shut.
Chapter 14
Shayla
“For the lips of a strange woman drop as a honeycomb and her mouth is smoother than oil: and you mourn at the last when your flesh and your body are consumed.”
Tinne gazed across the clearing at the tree line as the morning sun rose behind it. He stirred up a small fire he had been cooking on. “Good morning.” He shouted as Ren came into view.
“Got anything for me on that pan?” Ren asked.
“I said good morning.” Tinne repeated.
“Yea, yea, mornin’, give me something to eat.”
“Help yourself, I’ve already eaten.” Tinne offered as he stood and stretched his back. “I haven’t seen any Sitts for four days. You?”
“No, not one.” Ren mumbled with his mouth full.
They had separated nearly two months earlier when the Sitts had chased them out of the Field of Lords. They decided it would be beneficial and less likely for both of them to be caught if they went their own way until they felt they were clear to meet in Innisfil.
“Well, well, what’ve you been up to? Are swords not enough for you anymore?” Tinne enquired of the pistol that stuck out from under Ren’s arm.
“Just a trophy. I ran into some old trash talking fool a few days back.”
“You robbed an old man?” Tinne asked with distaste.
“Well I killed him first.” Ren said before shoving another bite into his mouth.
Tinne raised his brow in disbelief.
“What? He started it!” Ren defended. “What? I’m a thief! I have to loot the victim, it’s who I am.”
Tinne shook his head and sat down to pour some more coffee. “I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to show.”
“Here I am. Thanks for breakfast.”
“You can thank me by cleaning the pan.”
The two sat for some time drinking coffee and watching the smoke from Ren’s cigarette casually dissipate in the crisp morning air.
It wasn’t until Tinne began to whistle that they noticed it dancing through the branches with cigarette smoke partners, the notes of a sweet, almost melancholic melody.
“What’s that sound?”
“Somebody singing.” Ren answered.
They stretched their necks searching for the source.
“It’s coming from over there.” Ren continued as he rose to his feet. “Let’s check it out.”
So they left their horses to graze in the clearing and wandered into the forest. They followed the melody for half an eternity, or at least that’s how Tinne felt. They followed through nook and cranny, over knoll and under felled trees. As they got closer the song became sweeter, almost hypnotic. Tinne rushed along several metres ahead of Ren the whole way.
“Easy, boy.” Ren called. “Have you never heard a woman sing before?” He chided.
“Not like this.” Tinne replied on his way up the next knoll. He ducked suddenly and signalled Ren to do the same. Ren scrambled up beside him and the two peered cautiously over the top of the knoll. The bare forest opened before them around a small pond, well lit by the morning sun.
“Now that’s something you don’t see every day.” Tinne stated rather dumbfounded.
“At least, not at the end of October, anyway”. Ren remarked.
“She’s beautiful.” Tinne observed in awe.
“She’s nuts is what she is.” Ren whispered. “That water should be about to ice over.” He continued.
“I’m surprised the water’s not boiling around her.” Tinne said.
Ren gave Tinne a slightly puzzled glance. He’s not usually so interested. He thought to himself.
The woman continued singing as she stepped slowly out of the water at the far end of the pond. Her red hair reached nearly half way down her back.
“She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” Tinne continued to rant as he admired her pleasant form. In actuality she was the only woman he had ever seen, in less than a nightdress anyway. Her skin was fair yet healthy in its strangely warm glow.
“I kinda gathered that by the puddle at your feet.” Ren replied dryly, still wondering about Tinne’s behaviour. He looked back to the woman and contemplated the scene. “Something’s not right about this.” He said.
As the woman stepped out of the water and reached for her robe a
Sittyan soldier stepped out from behind the tree and grabbed her by the wrist. “Hey, Chad, look what I caught!” He yelled to an unseen comrade. “Think the captain would be happy if we brought this back to him?”
“What the…?” Tinne and Ren shot to their feet
The woman struggled hard, trying to cover and free herself at the same time.
“Come on sweetie pie. Give me a hug and a smoochie, smoochie. I can warm you up after that nice cold bath.” The soldier slobbered.
Ren and Tinne were halfway around the pond when the soldiers saw them. The first soldier reached for his sword and the woman broke free. She scrambled fearfully back into the water until only her head was visible. She watched nervously as the swords clashed. She looked around to see where Ren and Tinne had come from and half smiled and half smirked when she realized they had to have been watching her in the pond.
It didn’t take long for the soldiers to realize they were outmatched. Not a wound dealt or received and they fled through the trees. Ren and Tinne stood poised, their eyes hanging securely on the backs of their fleeing enemies. The Sitts disappeared and the two young men stood, looking and listening for signs of reinforcements or return.
Something at Tinne’s feet stole his attention. A soft blue robe lay bunched between his feet. He remembered all at once the woman in the pond and quickly stepped to pick it up.
With her chin tucked and her hands flat on her thighs she stepped confidently out of the water and approached him.
Her luminous green eyes melted his heart and he felt his knees weaken. His eyes wandered from hers, as she approached without shame, and he felt himself blush and go faint. His composure finally caught up with his eyes just below the lower curve of her navel where a fairly large ruby hung on a fine gold chain.
“Did you get a good look?” She asked.
“Your robe, miss.” He offered raising it between them and turning his beet red face to a patch of ground beside his foot. He nervously stole glances at her bare feet on the forest floor when she took the robe. She gave him a sly sideways glance as she casually began dressing herself in no particular hurry.
“And to whom do I owe the pleasure?” She asked.
“Oh, yes,” Tinne fumbled. “My name is Tinne and this is my friend Ren.”
Ren watched in amusement from a short distance with one foot on a fallen tree.
“Those soldiers will be back you know.” He said after a few minutes of silence. His gaze lingered with the woman. Something didn’t seem right. That jewel that hung so low on her abdomen. A ruby shaped like an hourglass on a fine thread of a gold chain. It was familiar to him although he was certain he had never seen it before. The nagging feeling thrashed around in the back of his mind. He found himself feeling anxious, not that it showed of course, but he felt like he had the first time he drank too much coffee. A horse snorted and stepped into view from behind a group of spruce trees. The woman went to the horse and took an outer cloak from the saddlebag to wrap herself in.
“We will have to take her with us, Ren.” Tinne insisted. “It’s not safe for her here.”
“Take her with us? Since when did we become armed escorts for hire? No offence miss.”
“None taken.” She replied softly as she climbed into the saddle. “I do not wish to go with you anyway. I’m on my way to my winter lodging.” She explained, looking at Tinne.
Even spoken, her voice rang like sweet music in Tinne’s ears.
“How far is this place? We will see you to it.” Tinne offered.
“It’s not necessary. It’s only two days west.” She feigned protest.
“Tinne, we need to get back to Bayfield. Winter’s gonna hit soon.” Ren argued.
“It’s only two days, Ren.”
“Bayfield is five days north.”
“We can’t leave her alone. It’s too dangerous. Besides, Ren, if they hadn’t been chasing us the Sitts would never be in this neck of the woods. It’s the least we can do.” Tinne persisted.
“Okay, fine. Have it your way.” Ren surrendered.
“Great! I knew you would agree!” You go get our horses and I’ll help the lady with her things.” He was motioning with his eyes at the woman. Ren looked over Tinne’s shoulder at her. She was sitting straight in the saddle with her back to them.
“Yes master, I’ll just run along, sir.” Ren mumbled dejectedly. As he headed in the direction they had come from he heard Tinne’s voice fading away.
“By the way miss, what is your name?” He asked nervously.
“Shayla.” She replied with a rather seductive and bashful sideways glance.
The three headed west, under Shayla’s guidance, for a number of hours before stopping by a small shallow stream. Ren had been slightly irate and travelled several metres behind Tinne and Shayla. A few times he suggested they travel by way of open fields, but each time the other two insisted on staying in the forest. They had really been hitting it off, almost like they had known each other all their lives.
“The sun is beginning to set.” Ren observed. “We’ll have to make camp soon.”
“We can make camp here.” Shayla suggested to Tinne as they filled their canteens from the stream.
“She’s right Ren, why don’t we camp here? That’ll give us time to gather wood.”
Ren clenched his teeth slightly and looked about the forest. With the others to his back side he stuck out his bottom lip and muttered silently “she’s right, Ren. That’ll give us time to gather wood.”
After viewing the area completely he agreed to camp with a reluctant nod of his head and went in search of firewood. Shayla watched him from under the hood of her cloak with a smile of satisfaction on her face.
“I’m glad you insisted on accompanying me, Tinne. It’s not the same alone.” She flashed her eyes fleetingly from beneath her long dark lashes.
“If you don’t mind my asking, where did you get that ruby you wear around your waist?” Ren asked after dinner.
“It’s been handed down for centuries.” Shayla replied.
Ren raised his eyebrows with interest and surprise at the answer.
“Centuries, hey? Have you ever had it appraised? A ruby that old…and the shape of an hourglass…it’s probably worth more than a small fortune.” He said.
“Oh, I could never sell it. I’d die if I were to lose it.” She said.
“Even still, it might be interesting to know. Wouldn’t it? Just an idea.” He said as he rolled a cigarette.
“Do you think I could have another look at it sometime?”
Tinne gave him a look and elbowed his friend in the ribs.
“What? I don’t mean she has to strip or anything! I just wanted to have another look at it. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Ren complained.
“It’s okay, Tinne, it is a very rare, very beautiful artefact. I don’t blame him for wanting to see it again.” Shayla interjected.
Tinne had a sneaking suspicion however that his friend wasn’t just asking out of slight interest. He suspected Ren was thinking of lifting the prized object. He did have a habit, after all.
Shayla smiled. She fumbled around with her robes and after a couple of minutes she procured the jewel still attached to her waist by the fine gold chain. Tinne’s face went blank as he gazed upon it.
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to just take it off the chain?” Ren said, as he looked at it, mesmerized.
“Oh, I never take it off.” She replied.
“Never?” There was a very slight hint of disappointment in Ren’s voice. He realized it and hoped Shayla had not.
“Never. I’ve worn it every day since I received it.” Shayla said without indicating whether or not she heard the disappointment in Ren’s voice.
That night while the forest lay in early winter silence Ren slept restlessly beneath his tarp. His unconscious thoughts had found their way to a rendezvous with his l
ast memories of his father.
The door, torn from its frame, lay in a number of pieces on the veranda. Ron stormed across the lawn and entered the shed with the same crashing and roaring as when he exited the house.
“I’ve never seen him this bad before.” Ren’s mother said quietly and sympathetically from behind him as they watched the large man literally tear the shed apart from the inside out.
“What is it that’s done this to him, mom?” Ren asked with fear in his voice.
“The voice in his head.” She replied as Ren turned around to look at her. Rose was a small, kind lady with deep brown eyes. Her expression was normally that of joy and peace, but, lately, had become one of concern. Ren responded with a puzzled look.
“He didn’t think I would shoot him in the back.” Milton’s voice intruded.
Ren opened his eyes. By the glow in the tent he could tell that morning was approaching. He got up and looked around. A couple of deer scampered off nearby. Troubled by his dream he began to stir up the fire for coffee.
When Tinne emerged from his tent Ren was sitting with his back to him with a cigarette and a second cup of coffee.
“Good morning. Shayla up yet?”
“Went for a walk. She said it’s a morning ritual.” Ren replied.
Tinne poured himself a coffee and sat down. “So what do you think of her?” Tinne asked anxiously to hear his friend’s response.
Ren gazed just a little too long into the fire blowing smoke rings.
“That bad hey?” Tinne said after a few minutes of silence.
“What?” Ren questioned, slightly irritated and pretending to be interrupted from some deep thought.
“I said what do you think of her?”
“What difference does it make what I think?”
“You’re good at reading people and I thought you were my friend. Isn’t that what friends are for, advice, second opinions, encouragement?”
Ren continued to gaze at the fire.
“Well? What do you think?”
“I don’t know.” Ren replied sharply.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
Exactly that. She seems nice enough, but there’s something about her I don’t trust. I don’t know what it is. I can’t place it.” Ren explained.