“Jaryna, you forgot your drink.”
Emala smiled politely. “No, thank you. I think your cider may have soured. I’ll be fine with some water.”
Alix sighed and shook his head. “I had hoped to do this the easy way.” Emala watched in confusion and no little mounting trepidation as he flicked two fingers in the air.
“Wha—”
A pair of long arms circled around her, pinning her in place. Emala yanked her arms uselessly against Dres’s iron grip. The stench of his unwashed body made her stomach turn and she tried to breathe through her mouth as she spoke to Alix. “I don’t understand. What is going on? Alix?”
The burly leader shook his head regretfully. “I really wish you would’ve done this the easy way. A little nap and before you know it, you would have woken up far from here with a whole new life waiting for you. A life far better than wandering on a mountain or taking a chance in a village of strangers. A pretty girl like you would be treated like a queen.”
“What are you talking about?” Emala sputtered as she renewed her struggle against her captor’s vice-like grip.
Nici snorted and answered for her brother. “Pretty girls like you fetch a fine price at Dunyar Citadel beyond the Dark Forest and the Plains of Shades. It is a long journey and not for the faint of heart. You’ll wish you had slept when we travel through the western lands, plagued as they are by the Ragoru and all manner of beasts,” Nici said as if they were speaking of selling pigs at a fair, her eyes bright with cruel amusement. Her smile fell as she glared at her spouse with jealousy. “Don’t get too comfortable holding her, Dres. Alix, some rope if you please?”
“Already ahead of you, sister,” Alix rumbled. He smiled down at her with genuine warmth that Emala found far more disconcerting than his sister’s cruelty or Dres’s expressionless acceptance of every order he was given. Alix acted as if he were cheerfully doing her a favor while they tied her up and prepared to sell her into slavery. She shook her head as he approached closer.
“Please—don’t do this! I have some coin in my bag. You can have all of it! Just let me continue on my way to Myst Sanctuary and I will never speak of this again.”
Nici laughed at her attempt to bargain with Alix, and even the burly man in question smiled at her with amusement. “You think you can bargain with Alix? This whole thing is his idea! He’s lured in many pretty young girls from the villages when the opportunity presented itself and turned them over for gold in Dunyar. He got the idea when he heard that they lost most of their womenfolk during a horrible plague. Deprived of women, they’re always looking for slaves to do the work around the city—and wives for their harems.”
Nici paused, grabbed Emala’s jaw, and turned her face in close inspection, a chortle of gleeful laughter bursting from the woman as she got a clear look in the firelight. “Alix, you’ve outdone yourself this time! Most of the girls you bring in don’t look as healthy or striking as this one.” She released her grip and patted Emala on the cheek. “Don’t worry, little girl. No doubt you’ll be a coveted specimen. You will live nearly in luxury in one of the wealthier harems. Better than one of the serving whores among the rabble of guards. So be grateful.” Nici slapped her hands together and looked at her husband and brother with a greedy gleam in her eyes. “Boys, we’re sure to make a fortune when the bidding starts on this one!”
Once Alix secured the rope around her, the traders busied themselves around the camp, leaving Emala in relative peace with nothing but her thoughts for company. Alix turned his back to her as he spitted the rabbits over the fire. Emala suspected that she wouldn’t be given any of the meat to eat. She supposed she should be grateful that they weren’t torturing her; they wouldn’t want to damage their precious merchandise. Her lips contorted into a bitter frown as she glared at Alix, cursing her willingness to trust a seemingly harmless face.
Chapter 6
The wagon jerked as the wheel slid for the umpteenth time. Emala had lost count since they set out hours ago. She’d been deposited in the wagon to sleep on the hard floor with only her fur coat to serve as padding while the merchants drank, ate, and talked in low voices late into the night. It had taken her hours to fall asleep, even after they’d retired to their own enclosed wagons to sleep comfortably no doubt on real beds contained within. She’d barely gotten to sleep when that horrible woman, Nici, splashed her with freezing water with a terse order to get up.
Offered no more than cold porridge from the night before and watered-down coffee likely only offered in hopes that the caffeine would get her moving, Emala endured the humiliation of peeing in front of strangers before being thrown back into the wagon. There she ate her cold meal while the wagon swayed. She barely managed to avoid spilling the coffee in her lap. A simple canvas roof was suspended overhead to keep the snow off the merchandise, but it left the sides free so that she could glare daggers at Alix’s back.
She couldn’t believe she was taken in and so thoroughly fooled by him.
To add insult to injury, he was riding her fucking horse!
She seethed as every jerk of the wagon sent her flying into the hard sides. Each time, she tried to stay low so that her shoulder took the brunt of the impact. As much as she wanted to escape, she wasn’t particularly interested in pitching over the side of a moving wagon into the ravine below. Unfortunately, with her arms and legs bound, there wasn’t much she could do to control her slide.
The wagon pitched violently to the left as the wheels skidded. Emala was thrown into the wall of the wagon with such force that her upper body hung over the edge. Her eyes widened as she stared out into the wooded ravine. She could hear Alix shouting to someone—she thought maybe Dres—as the tree-line rose quickly. The other men shouted in a panic as they swarmed upon the wagon, grabbing at the ropes along the side. Emala looked down at the wheel just in time to see it slide on a patch of thick ice onto the ledge. The wagon teetered for a moment before the snow and loosened rock gave way from beneath it.
A scream lodged in her throat and terror surged, making the small hairs on her body stand on end as the wagon seemed to hover in the air before the entire contraption tipped sideways. Emala braced herself, trying not to get thrown from the interior as merchandise slammed into her as it spilled over the side and into the trees below. By some miracle, she remained within the wagon as it dropped with her into the empty arms of the air. She heard a scream but knew it didn’t come from her. Her lungs were frozen in fear. She couldn’t scream nor could she spare a glance for whoever issued the blood-curdling sound as she dropped into the evergreens and naked branches of all manner of trees that reached up for her with their wicked arms.
She was aware of the pain of branches scratching her skin as the wagon plummeted. Each strike stole her breath as it sent pain shooting through her. When she finally tumbled out of the wagon, it didn’t take more than a moment for her head to crack against a limb. Emala was almost thankful as she fell into the blessed unconsciousness that would spare her from witnessing her death.
When she came to, Emala was several feet from the shattered wagon that lay haphazardly in the snow. She was in terrible pain but was otherwise whole. The wagon had taken the brunt of their misadventure before it surrendered her. She had to have been pretty close to the ground when she was thrown from it. She felt bruised, but nothing was broken as far as she could tell. She thanked the Mother for small mercies delivered. It was a shame though that she hadn’t struck anything sharp enough to cut through the ropes binding her.
With a grunt, she turned hard enough to send herself rolling through the snow. She shrieked as she slid a short distance down and landed in an icy pile of fresh powder. Coughing, Emala wiggled until she was lying on what seemed to be packed snow once more. Exhausted, she rolled to her side to meet Nash’s wide, vacant stare. His mouth was still open as if he’d still been screaming when he died. Her eyes traveled down and she promptly threw up. Somehow his head had been severed from his body in the fall. A short distance awa
y, she could see his corpse, a trail of tools and goods strewn between the segments of Nash’s remains.
Coughing and gagging on her own spittle, she struggled away from the gruesome sight, thrashing in the snow like a worm on a fishing line. She could hear Alix shouting down into the ravine from some distance above. She wondered if they would attempt to come down to retrieve their valuable merchandise. If so, she didn’t intend to linger. She wiggled again, sending her rolling down a hill. She screamed as she picked up speed only for her mouth to be filled with snow as she collided with another embankment. It took her several minutes of thrashing to break free from it. When she did, she almost wished she hadn’t been in such a hurry to get out of the snow when she found herself facing the furred hocks of a creature she’d only heard of from her mother’s tales and the whisperings of servants.
Emala’s eyes widened in terror as she looked up to stare into the bright blue eyes of a snow-white Ragoru. He held a four-antlered buck tossed with casual strength over one massive shoulder, his other three arms held out from his sides. She wasn’t sure if it was from surprise or if he was preparing to attack. This was not a male from one of the annihilated clans from the north. With a whimper, she shuddered in fear before she succumbed to the overwhelming barrage of emotions in a manner that she never had before. She felt her eyes roll back in her head even as the blackness enclosed her vision, swallowing her consciousness.
Chapter 7
Mishar stared down at the strange creature. A human, he guessed, though he couldn’t understand why a human wore strange bonds inhibiting the movement of its arms and legs. Its coverings were odd—wearing the pelts of other beasts seemed exceptionally barbaric to him as his species didn’t use the pelts of their prey for anything but bedding—but at least expected. Humans didn’t have the thick coats that Ragoru possessed. They were a weaker species who relied on constructed weapons to make up for their lack of claw and fang. Or so he’d been told. He didn’t see anything on this pitiful creature that looked like a weapon.
He scratched at his scruff. Should he wake it?
The human had reeked of fear before it fell unconscious. He understood the fear. He felt it too when he saw the large monstrosity falling from the sky, screaming horrifically as it dropped. Mishar had just brought down his prey and crouched over it when the behemoth crashed through the trees some distance away. For a moment, he’d been tempted to retreat to his home territory, uncertain of what danger it posed. Yet the same concern drove him to investigate. He couldn’t, in good conscience, leave something on the mountain so near his triad’s territory that could potentially harm their family. Decision made, he’d thrown his kill over his shoulder and made his way over to where it crashed to the ground.
To his surprise, and considerable relief, when he arrived there was no monstrous creature. Instead, he found human wreckage the likes of which he had never seen on their side of the mountain. Strange human belongings were scattered over the snow near the remains of the thing. It had been made entirely of wood, with round, turning parts that seemed designed for travel. It had been a strange sight for him as he recalled that the common human trails were further to the east. Humans generally avoided striking out through the deeper parts of the woods that the Ragoru called their domain. It must have fallen from the trail that curved along the higher reaches swinging to the east. From time to time, he’d caught sight of the movement of humans with the various beasts during fairer seasons, so he knew it was up there even if he had never been inclined to approach.
Still, that didn’t explain everything. Spinning one of the round parts, he’d wondered about the scream he heard until the wind shifted and he caught the sharp scent of blood in the air. It was only by following his nose that he’d found the gruesome remains of a human. The scent of blood, released bowels, and the odor of its body had totally obscured the presence of another human. It was only by chance that he’d stumbled across the one before him now. It had rolled into his path from a snowbank, with wide, frightened eyes staring out from a stark furless face and tangled dark hair spilling out from its hood.
Unlike the other human, despite the bitter stench of fear, this one at least smelled sweet and pleasant. It also didn’t possess the facial fur of the other human, making its face appear softer and more delicate. He leaned over and sniffed again. It was really exquisite, like the finest scents in the world. Or a female in her time of need. The furs covering it had fallen open, revealing swollen mounds on its chest. Although Ragoru had four teats to care for their litters, the shape was similar.
Was he looking at a human female?
He backed away from her uneasily and dropped his prey, his head snapping around as his nostrils flared, scenting the air. Why would a human female be alone in the woods? He tried to recall what his fathers had told him of humans. His mother hadn’t been particularly interested in the subject and had scoffed at such storytelling. As far as she was concerned, her sons needed only to do three things: grow into strong, capable males, learn to hunt, and protect their territory. After Mishar’s accident, she abandoned him to his father’s care while she preened over her other young. His fathers were helpless against anything she demanded, since the female rules the den.
He recalled his lead father sneering after he took Mishar to a small nest of furs in the corner of a back room. In that dark corner, his father had curled around him and told him stories of the world around them, and of the humans who shared it with the Ragoru. His father’s voice was low as he whispered about how human males were larger than females—something even he had a hard time believing—and the males were often more dominant and aggressive than the females, who outnumbered them. His father had warmed to the subject, telling him how, unlike the Ragoru, human females were numerous like flowers in a field. Far more than the males who attempted to guard them. His father’s fangs had glinted with a humorous smile, although he never explained what he found amusing about that.
Although it seemed like a strange story to Mishar, he’d believed him. His father was from the north, far beyond the mountains where the Ragoru triads lived and hunted in clan networks to survive in an even more hostile environment where they were forced to compete with large predators. It stood to reason that his father knew something more of humans. Even after the huntsmen wiped out the northern Ragoru clans closest to their territory, Mishar’s father had continued to be fascinated with humans, although Mishar always felt like there was information that his father withheld.
It stood to reason that if there were a female alone, surely there would be males nearby searching for her. Maybe her own mates looked for her. If that other human he found had been one of her triad, the other males would be closing in soon in search of her.
Perhaps he should leave her for them to find?
His ears dropped as he studied her. He still didn’t understand why her males would bind her arms and legs. She couldn’t have done it on her own. It didn’t look comfortable, in his opinion.
Without further thought on the matter, his claws made quick work of cutting her free. It wasn’t until after the last binding fluttered around her feet in the snow that he thought that he might have acted too hastily. Perhaps she had a good reason for the bindings. She should have been asked first—not that he had the ability to do so. For the first time in many revolutions, he was frustrated with his disability. He knew the human tongue of the region, carefully taught to him as a youth, but he had no way to vocalize it. He had no way to communicate with her. He cursed the fact that he hadn’t taken his brother up on his offer. Then again, Vordri wouldn’t have wanted to investigate and they never would have discovered her. His brother would have demanded that they return to their territory at once.
Mishar jerked back as the female suddenly moved, her breasts arching into the air as she inhaled a deep breath. Her face scrunched up in an adorable fashion like a newly born rog, and brilliant green eyes flickered open. He crouched low beside her so that she didn’t feel overwhelmed by his large
body hovering over her. The green orbs watched him warily and she pushed herself up so that she was sitting in the snow at eye level with him. He watched her throat work as she swallowed nervously, and he extended his open palms, hoping that it would reassure her to see him unarmed. She stared at his hands and claws apprehensively for a long moment before she nodded and drew her fur covering tighter around herself.
“Okay,” she said, the tremor in her voice betraying her nerves. “I’m assuming that you are meaning to show me that you won’t hurt me?”
He nodded, flashing a quick smile. Her eyes snapped up to his teeth and she froze. Again, her pungent fear flooded his nose and Mishar scowled. What had made her afraid this time? Was she going to react that way to any gesture? He sighed and pushed himself back onto his feet and stepped away from the female in order to recover his prey. Perhaps it would be best if he just took his leave. No doubt her males would find her soon enough. Though he hated to leave her—more than that, he felt sickened by the idea of abandoning her there—he considered it a greater kindness toward the tiny female than inflicting his presence on her.
Hefting the four-horned tail-flag back over his shoulder, he inclined his head politely and turned to leave. He didn’t get more than a few steps when he heard her scrambling through the snow and a few indistinguishable words uttered in anger before she called out to him like a command from the Mother herself. “Wait, please! Wait just one minute...”
Mishar stopped and looked over his shoulder at her, his ears turning toward her curiously even as he watched her awkwardly stumble toward him. The female halted just a few feet away, her chest heaving with exertion as she eyed him. He regarded her with sympathy. She didn’t look well. She was incredibly pale except where her skin was bright red. That didn’t concern him as much as the blue creeping in around her lips. He cocked his head at her, and she smiled, showing her strange blunt teeth.
White: Emala's Story (Ragoru Beginnings Book 1) Page 5