By the Horns

by Jeanette Lynn

  “Ah... better. Thanks.” I tried for a smile but couldn’t hold it.

  Her smile was bright and sweet. “You’re welcome.”

  I’d made a fool out of myself yesterday, over and over again. And that scene right out the gate as we got to the village! I was lucky no one had done away with me right then and there. What had I been thinking?!! This is to be my new home and I’d completely gone and blew it. They’d labeled me a crazed Mad Queen’s wingless beast after that for sure. I wouldn’t be surprised if they wanted to put me down like a rabid dog.

  Again, what had my arse been thinking?!!

  I hadn’t.

  “Where am I?” Bits of daylight streamed in through horizontal slats hanging over a small window.

  “The unmated females’ hut.”

  “The what?” I didn’t hear that right. Couldn’t have.

  “You made quite the impression on many a male, I daresay. And imagine the novelty you present. A wingless! Here! You’ll be caught up and paired off for sure. Fights might ensue.”

  Fights might ensue, alright, but not for the reason she assumed.

  Oh boy. “I did? I mean, I- what?”

  “Mm, hmm.” Her boxy head bobbed, the short mop of curls on the top of her hornless head, lighter at the tips, flopped over her eyes. Blowing out a long breath, she sent the wayward strands towards her left, her fingers reaching up, more human-like fingers, tucking her unruly locks behind a twitchy ear. She had no horns, not even stubs of them, and she like most of the women I’d noticed, was topless, small, perky breasts on display. A thin length of material wrapped around her waist, a small gold and black ring through her nose.

  “Pretend I know nothing of unmated females in huts and pairings,” I murmured warily. “What’s to become of me?”

  Catching where my gaze strayed, she grinned. “You’re wearing my old nightgown. For someone your age, you’re certainly small. Smaller than me.”

  “How old are you?” I was afraid to ask, but this mouth…

  “Two tens and a summer,” she proudly informed me. “I was born in the spring.”

  Twenty one years old.

  “I dare say I’m not that much older than you.” Not wanting to be a shrew right out the gate, I kept my indignant huff to myself. Did she think me an old maid?

  “Really?” Her fuzzy brow furrowed. She looked so disappointed.

  “You’re still bigger than me,” I pointed out.

  “True.” Another nod, the return of that infectious smile. “Oh! Right.” A frown, then a smile. “The hut. Females of age can move into the unmated females’ dwellings, waiting for their chance at a pairing. Those that don’t usually eventually take to temple. And maybe a mating later. There’s safety in numbers. We look out for each other. Is it true you’re a banished princess and Kvigor saved you?” She twirled a little, flopping down beside me with a wistful sigh. “Ekodar thinks it swine swill, but not me. I think it’s so romantic!”

  “No.” My lips flattened, expression droll. “I’m afraid the poor fellow ate one too many funny mushrooms.”

  Her eyes widened and her hand went to her mouth. Eyes going from the door to me, she snorted out a giggle. “Oh.”

  “Matings are rare?” I asked, because what’s one more knife to this heart?

  “Not many females want one.” She gave a short shrug. “And why?”

  Yes, why indeed, especially if the males were anything like Kvigor.

  “The dagger. Was that planned?” she asked in a scandalous whisper.

  “Planned?” My brow beetled in confusion.

  “Mm. Very dramatic. Had everyone holding their breath. I wondered if you meant to attack Kvigor, and then, ah, kill yourself. Like the story of the lovers’ moon.”

  Gods preserve me.

  “Ahh... Can I- Is there a bathroom?” I didn’t want to have this conversation. Didn’t care what the story of the lovers’ moon was, either.

  In the state I’d been yesterday, I had no idea what I’d have done once I’d finished slicing my own palm. Stab him? Threaten to? Thinking of last night, I wouldn’t have put anything past me. I’d been... distraught.

  Distraught? No. Devastated. Out of my head. Off my rocker.

  Maroon eyes shifted to the door, then beyond that, staring off outside, the open door bringing with it a cool breeze. “A bath-room? Bathing room?”

  “A place to relieve myself.” Soon, please, I prompted.

  “Oh. Here, come, get changed.” She stood, making a shooing motion. “I’ll show you.”

  Glancing down at my shift gown, my nose scrunched. “Dressed?”

  A snort left the spritely cow-maiden. “You can’t go out in that, silly. Yes, dressed.”

  Surreptitiously glancing at the four rows of pert breasts stacking down her fit frame, I cleared my throat. Yeah, the not-tops attire skirt combination, I wasn’t doing that.

  ˜˙˜*˜˙˜

  I didn’t care how badly my lower extremities screamed at me to let this liquid go, I was not putting on that outfit.

  “Everyone is wearing them,” Vachel reasoned.

  “Is that your real name?” I had to ask. “Or is Vachel some sort of nickname?” Vacha for short, perhaps? I’d heard her called vacha by that Adelric, Adel, Enforcer.

  “It’s my name,” dark cheeks pinched inward as thick lips pursed, “Adel named me. It’s special. I’m his,” her lips twitched and she rolled her large eyes, “little cow. I’m told he was elated to have another sibling, a baby sister. Mama loved it so much she kept it, and now that horrible name- Ugh, well, it’s mine.”

  For a time that bastard Kvigor—I cringed just thinking about him and his betrayal—had been calling me a little cow? I should be mad, raging, but it was so... “That’s horrible,” I blurted.

  “I know,” she said on a giggle.

  “Just... horrendously horrible.”

  “I know!”

  We glanced to each other, grinned, shaking our heads, then burst out laughing.

  ˜˙˜*˜˙˜

  Vachel sighed. She was growing tired of my stubbornness. I guess I couldn’t blame her. “It is what everyone is wearing,” she groused, feeling the need to defend their traditional garb.

  It was what everyone was wearing. Everyone save lil ol’ human me.

  Her back turned, I glanced around the designated relief area, found as good a place as any, squatting down, and, well, did what needed to be done. “It would be easier for you, in the end, if you simply did as I say,” she stated primly.

  This was her nice way of saying, ‘Just shut up and do as you’re told, you ridiculously difficult, annoying human.’

  “It might help soften the Chief towards you,” she offered.

  All that told me was their leader wasn’t so fond of me. Big surprise there.

  I appreciated her efforts, I really did, but no way was I running around with my breasts swaying in the breeze. It was too cold for that, especially for me and my hairless person right now. I’d grow ill and die of some horrible chest infection, some random strange sickness to send me to my early grave, and who would be left to avenge me? Or glare at Kvigor every chance they got until we both died? This hating his guts business was going to be a lot of work, but my ornery hide was up for the challenge.

  A clicking noise issued from somewhere past the wooded area Vachel had led me to and her ears perked up.

  “I shall be back,” the younger female told me after the third and fourth click. Was that a signal? “Do not be going far. Ekodar will not be pleased if he has to send trackers to find his wingless. Your... unfortunate accident yesterday has left him more curious, intrigued than angry. You would do well to hope his feelings are not swayed towards the latter.”

  Like say, with a stumble into the woods and getting my butt lost. Understood. “If I’d angered him more than amused?” I was curious to know.

  “You would not be standing here with me this day.”

  With that morbid tidbit, she was off slapping leaves a
nd branches out of her way, working her way up the small dirt path.

  Finished, I adjusted the gown billowing out around me like the fancy ball gowns I’d seen in a picture book once. Only, my gown looked as if it had been fashioned from bed linen and was more fit for a granny, a sack dress, than a banished princess.

  My soap was in my pack, whatever Adelric had done with it. My eyes slid towards the funny smelling blossoms Vachel had pointed out to me earlier. Picking off a few small flowers, I picked my way down the small hill that was all too familiar to me, to wash my hands at the pond.

  My stupid white bull’d taken me to their piss post to shove his giant cow tongue down my throat, a very memorable, if not for the reasons he’d intended, send off. “Arsehole,” I grumbled, kneeling, careful not to dirty my hem, and proceeded to squish the juice from the tiny petals into my palm.

  A lather slowly built, the smell of sweet flowers scenting the air. This wasn’t so bad, I guessed, and my undamaged hand did feel clean. I was just standing up, flicking my hand out, when a deep, familiar voice called out to me.

  “You are decent?”

  “I am,” I called back. Nerves filled me. A sudden bout of shyness overcame me. I’d asked the dark-furred Adelric, in my stunned stupor, to fuck me last night.

  Ye gods...

  The Chief’s man came into view then, stepping out from the dense brush as if he’d been watching me all along, allowing me the illusion in believing he’d been the gentleman.

  “Adelric,” I greeted quietly, glancing down at my hands to find I was wringing them anxiously. Clearing my throat, I shoved my hands behind my back, knowing once I’d started fidgeting, until the source of my distress was gone, there was no end in sight.

  The Tauran’s lips parted, mouth opening to speak, but nothing came out. He was eyeing my gown dress with a most curious look.

  “Riadne.”

  “What?” The Chief’s guard blinked.

  “I’m Riadne. Never told you my name.” Trying to break some of the tension, I smiled.

  This just seemed to make the woolly bully even more uncomfortable.

  Friendly expression faltering, I was just about to try again when two more Taurans joined us.

  “Collected her, then?” Yhem, the yak-man of Minotaurs commented gruffly. Axe on his back, grim twist of his lips firmly in place, I didn’t think the grey male had a soft edge to him, physically or otherwise.

  “Thought for a minute there we’d be going on a beast hunt.” Bainan came up on Adelric’s left. “Bring us back a demonic wingless for punishment.”

  Punishment? Now that had my hands tightening, eyes widening. Swallowing reflexively past the lump in my throat, gaze darting from male to male, hands suddenly going clammy, breath catching, I made to take a step back to find myself trapped. Water behind me, males before me, I was boxed in. Geez’m Pete, those fellas moved fast!

  “Now look what you’ve done,” Yhem admonished, flicking a long finger in my direction. “Gone and scared the wee little beastie, ye dolt. Look a’ her. Frightened the tiny bit silly.”

  “What?” Bainan muttered petulantly. “She’s not going to find out soon enough?”

  “It’s not punishment,” Yhem argued, “not unless she runs and fights. It’s...” he struggled for words for a minute, “orders. It’s orders, is all, and we’re to see them out.” I wasn’t even buying that, but if it helped him to keep saying it...

  Gods... this was just getting worse and worse. Glancing over my shoulder at the tiny pond, I wondered how far I could make it before one of them’d catch me.

  “Ekodar ordered yer tamin’, little one,” Yhem’s voice softened. “Says he won’t have a savage runnin’ ‘round rilin’ up others.”

  “And you say I say too much.” Bainan snorted.

  “I’m explainin’, and shut your gob. Don’t see you trying ta calm her, eh.”

  “There’s no way out of this?” I got out between panting gasps. “What if I promise to be good?” The walls were closing in on me. This taming, whatever that was, was going to happen. It didn’t sound good.

  Yhem took a deep breath, expression softening. Something like pity entered that somber face. “Would not be fightin’ it, lest it grow worse.” Yellow eyes wearily slid to Adelric. “Best just make your way o’er and be done with it.”

  Again my gaze darted about the trio, then the pond.

  “Two jam cakes and my best spear say she runs for it.” Bainan’s smile was nasty. I disliked him instantly.

  Yhem looked to the dark blond Tauran in disgust. “She’s not goin’ to run.”

  “Says you.” The dark blond snorted, his thumbs hooking on the belt hugging his kilt.

  “She’s smarter than that,” Yhem muttered, starting to look unsure all of a sudden as I started panting loudly, eyes wild, my throat working convulsively.

  “Says you,” the young bull retorted confidently.

  Adelric, arms folded over his chest, just stood there, face set, dull ambery, goldish bronze eyes shadowed, and waited.

  Heart pounding, heartbeat thundering in my ears, my options were limited.

  That unnerving gaze was unwavering. I would be punished, Chief’s orders.

  This was how a cornered animal felt.

  “Goin’ ta run,” Bainan mused in a sing-song.

  Yhem spun on his heel, baring his teeth. “Prissy namby-”

  Turning, I dove, hitting the water with a wild splash.

  “Ah, fuck me. She’s running.” Yhem sighed heavily.

  Adelric walked to the water’s edge, calm as you please, ignoring his bumbling companions as they stumbled over one another in their haste.

  I was almost to the other side when the stalky warrior dropped his weapons and dove into the water after me.

  “Like a fish, he is,” I could hear Bainan murmur, over my screams as a giant of a bull popped up right next to me, scooping me up like I was nothing, restraining my flailing, soggy self with ease, and carted my caterwauling carcass were he may.

  “That’s stupid,” Yhem huffed. “Everyone knows frogs are better.” The sound of a smack rent the air. “Land and water.”

  “Ow.” Bainan huffed. “Don’t hit me!”

  Yhem chuffed. “Don’t be saying stupid things.”

  Adelric spun around, my ass in the air, my makeshift gown gone see-through, exposing my person to the world. Thrown over his shoulder like a gunny sack, ignoring me as I pounded his back, calling him every name known to man and then some, he lifted his head and snarled at his men. “Enough,” he roared at the pair.

  I didn’t know how I knew he wasn’t yelling at me, continuing my angry diatribe without thought. He bid me shout as I would with his silence on the matter, my legs neatly pinned beneath his thick arms, stomping off with me, dripping water all over him and everything within a few feet of us as I thrashed about to my heart’s content. Fear didn’t truly settle in until the village was no longer in sight and there was nothing but forest.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  It was quiet but for Adelric’s stomping steps. I’d lost my soggy, borrowed slippers a ways back. I should say, the dark-furred demon carting me to my fate had grown tired of them ramming into his gut and yanked them off, one by one, tossing them over his shoulder with a satisfied grunt.

  My stomach growled. The hour was surely close to lunch, the morning long past, or possibly later. I was ravenous but refused to voice it aloud.

  Like I’d go begging with this lot for food. Pfft. I’d rather starve!

  Blue trunked fur trees with dark orange needles, cherry red pepper sized berries on invading white veined bramble bushes gave way to shady, willow whip fashioned, olive green and swirling lavender patterned trees. The leaves were all red, a million different shades from rusted orange, faded pink, to ruby red. I’d yet to venture out to this part of the forest. It was... unsettling. Unsettling in a similar yet different way from the Hollows.

  The hairs on my nape rose, skin prickling. Oh, Adne, what ha
ve you gone and gotten yourself into now?

  Passing under a few wispy branched trees, the slight breeze blowing in past the treetops sending the flimsy branches slapping this way and that, I shivered, a definite chill in the air. Chilled me to the bone, it did. A few branches caught me, causing me to jump. Even through my clothes, the sting of those slaps were prevalent.

  Adelric and his band stopped at a small copse of the whip sharp, floppy trees. All the way down to the long yet thick trunked, pale trees, it swayed, as if entranced by the ever-changing weather.

  The snow had all but vanished overnight, leaving the smell of damp leaves, the more swampy, waterlogged section of this part of the forest mired in falling leaves and greyish brown muck.

  Small bubbles popped up in the mud, tiny creatures hidden in the little pools, masked beneath the crusty surface.

  It wasn’t the location I’d been unceremoniously dragged to that had my hackles rising, it was a combination of distance, being this far out, and the many marks marring those whip branch, stinging leaved trees. Their light, pale trunks were covered with familiar, alarming shades of red.

  Sensing before he’d even set me on my feet they meant to tie me to one of those, for lack of better term, whipping trees, for whatever purposes their chief, their unscrupulous overseer, had in mind for me—this taming, so to speak—I panicked.

  It was me or them, and I certainly wasn’t going to just stand around and allow myself to be tied to a tree, helpless, allowing them to do to my person as they pleased.

  “Hey!” I shouted, struggling for all I was worth, knowing it was no use. “This is unnecessary, and what about last night? Huh! What about that? We had a moment, damn it!”

  The dark-furred bull didn’t answer, merely slid the sack on his shoulder opposite me off his back, pulling something I couldn’t see out to dump the rough brown knapsack at his feet.

  “A moment?” Bainan sounded like he was choking on his own laughter. “Was this while you lay atop her and held her down while she, screaming like a banshee, cursed ye all over the great plains of Tavros and the mountains above? Or...” a sly glint filled his tone, “after.”

  “Shut it, squint,” Yhem chuffed out under his breath, adding, “if ya know what’s good fer ya.”