by Delia Castel
“These are your assigned duties.” He patted his bulging crotch and undid the first button of his breeches. “You will come to enjoy this work. Many of the girls who come here on probation stay.”
A thick, purple cock-head poked out from his placket. Precum beaded on its tip and glistened in the candle light.
Marigold clenched her teeth. “I’m not doing this!”
With an inhuman speed, he slammed her against a chest of drawers and rutted against her belly, making her retch. “If it’s your maidenhead you’re fretting over, I’ll be nice and gentle… at first.”
Craning her neck away from his saliva-covered lips, she reached behind and gripped a heavy, iron candlestick holder. Poda lapped at her neck, and Marigold slammed the makeshift weapon onto his skull.
His head jerked back, and before he could react, she hit him over the head again, and he crashed to the floor. Blood pooled under his head, making her slip. A voice in the back of her mind told her to stop, but she had already gone this far. She bashed him one more time on the temple, and when she was sure he wouldn’t get up, she raced to the window and opened the shutters.
A blast of snowy air blew into her face, chilling her exposed skin. She slammed the shutters closed, opened her trunk, and changed into her heavy, winter cloak.
Casting one last glance over her shoulder, she reopened the shutters, stepped out of the window, and put her feet on a horizontal wooden beam. The drop was high, but the consequences of getting caught were far worse than breaking her neck. With an indrawn breath, Marigold jumped and plummeted a dozen feet. Her stomach lurched as she fell, but a mound of snow cushioned her fall, leaving her hands and knees sore but unbroken.
She glared up at the window. Her next stop would be to retrieve her mother’s bracelet, then she would head south and leave this wretched country.
Chapter 2
Marigold parked the stolen carriage half a mile from Lord Arctos’ mansion and made her way to her destination on foot. If Poda had survived the attack, he had most likely alerted the authorities. Messenger swifts could cross the capital in ten minutes, and the search party would likely be at the brothel in less than an hour. To avoid a public hanging, she needed to be in and out of Lord Arctos’ home within twenty minutes. That would give her enough time to leave town.
She snuck into the grounds through the gap in the hedges, kept to the shadows, and crossed the large, manicured garden. Avoiding the servant’s entrance, she tiptoed around the four-story brick building. At this time of the day, Lord Arctos liked to entertain ladies in his private parlor. This was a room with an entire wall of patio doors facing out into the rose arbor. Avoiding this area of the garden would mean taking a longer route and increasing the risk of being caught, but it was unavoidable.
As expected, the window to Lord Arctos’ study was ajar. Marigold climbed into the room and rushed towards the large, mahogany desk. Pulling back the rug, she exposed the trapdoor. Marigold hoped that the bracelet was still where he had put it before, as she had no time to search the house. It had taken Marigold a full year of volunteering to dust his study and bringing him refreshment to learn how to open the safe. The bear shifter had once boasted that he had purchased it from the Guild of Witches. It was a magic safe that would only open to somebody who owned an item inside it.
She pressed her palm on the correct floorboard, and it flipped open, revealing an oblong hole of three feet in length. She scanned its contents, ignoring the documents, jewels, and silver dagger. Her gaze fell on to a gold so yellow, it shone like the sunlight reflecting off a Buttercup. Her lips spread into a smile, and she snatched up the charm bracelet. Marigold was about to leave when she spotted a purse, bulging with coins. She slipped it into the pocket of her cloak. He owed her that much for stealing her mother’s bracelet and for getting her thrown into jail.
Avoiding the servants, Marigold left the house and its grounds, and headed for the stagecoach station. It was located behind the Post Office, a short walk away from the main branch of the Boreas Corrections Office. If Poda had alerted the authorities, the coach station would be a likely place they would look for her. A queue had formed beside the coach headed for Austellus, the southernmost territory in Igneus. She joined at the back and kept her head down. If everything went according to plan, she’d reach a port in Austellus and board a ship to Habilis, an island ruled by humans.
A large man shoved past, knocking Marigold into the skinny man standing ahead. He turned around and glared down at her. “Watch yourself!”
“Sorry.” Marigold ducked her head. It was silly, because wanted posters hadn’t been sent out yet, but just in case any of the people in the bus station did catch a glimpse of her face, she didn’t want them to tell the authorities that she was headed for Austellus.
The man grunted and turned back to the front. Marigold glowered at the brute who had knocked her. He was a six and a half foot tall man and nearly as wide. Pushing his way to the front, he boarded without paying. The conductor held his silence and didn’t challenge him. Marigold shook her head. One of these days, that bully would meet his match, and he wouldn’t feel quite so entitled.
“All right, everyone!” announced the conductor. “Please have the exact amount available. I’ve run out of change, so don’t blame me if you hand over a gold sovereign and get nothing back!” He laughed at his own joke and continued collecting the bus fare.
Marigolds stomach dropped, and she opened the purse. There wasn’t a single silver or bronze coin inside. While she didn’t mind wasting an entire gold coin on a fare, she suspected that handing over such a large amount would bring attention to herself. She glanced over her shoulder, checking to see who else was queuing after her.
Fortunately, she was the last person waiting in line, so she relaxed.
In time, the line shortened, and the man in front of her paid his fare and boarded. Marigold handed the conductor a gold coin. He stared down into his palm. “What do you call this?”
“You must have enough change by now.” She gave the silver florins in his coin box a pointed look.
He snapped the lid shut. “No exact change, no entry.”
“Please.” Her gaze darted into the road. A carriage with the four dragons coat of arms trundled past, and she gulped and turned back to the conductor. “Look, you can keep the change. I just need to get to Austellus by tomorrow.”
He raised his bushy, white eyebrows. “Oh, yes? And why would you be in such a hurry to leave town?” He narrowed his eyes. “Running from the law, are we?”
She forced a laugh. “Of course not! My man told me he’s found someone else. I want to go down there and sort him out.”
His gaze flickered up and down her body. “If I had a plump lipped, blonde beauty like you warming my bed, I wouldn’t look elsewhere. Heh-heh! No, I wouldn’t!”
“Thank you.” She gave him what she hoped was a sweet smile, but with the way her stomach was churning, it felt more like a grimace. “Now, will you let me on?”
He winked. “Sure. But I’m keeping the change.”
Clamping her teeth shut, she boarded the coach. The amount he had cheated out of her was enough for a human to live well for a fortnight. She had to remind herself that it wasn’t actually her money, but something about the conductor’s attitude rankled.
Despite the cold weather outside, the interior of the stagecoach was warm and sticky, Marigold wrinkled her nose at the sharp tang of body odor. Two wide rows of seats, each holding dozens of passengers, stretched out several times the length of the vehicle’s exterior. Marigold assumed that a witch must have expanded it. She cast her gaze down the rows, searching for somewhere to sit. The only free space was next to the man who had jostled her earlier. On feet that dragged as though clad in iron boots, she approached the brute. “Excuse me, is anyone sitting there?”
He shrugged, and she lowered herself into the seat and sank into soft-as-feather cushions. A relaxed sigh escaped her lips, and her muscles loosened. In a few m
inutes, she would be away from Maris and out of the territory of Boreas. And with the large man blocking the window, nobody would see her on board the vehicle.
The witches must have also cushioned the coach’s suspension, because it felt smooth as they passed over the cobbled streets. Instead of the bone-shaking ride from the vehicle she stole from Poda, the stagecoach journey felt more like a gentle rocking. Marigold closed her eyes and yawned. Before she knew it, she was asleep.
A loud bang made her wake with a start, and she leaned across the brute to glance out of the window. Night had fallen, and she squinted into the darkness to find four horsemen approaching the stagecoach. The side lanterns illuminated their Boreas Corrections Office uniforms. Marigold’s heart picked up speed. Poda or Martha must have reported her, and if she didn’t think of something, these men would drag her back to Maris. Depending on the extent of her former probation officer’s injuries, she could be facing life imprisonment or hanging. The vehicle slowed to a stop, and Marigold leaned forward, trying to see out of the window. The conductor jumped down from the driver’s seat and approached the men.
The lead horseman, who wore the triangular hat of a captain, unrolled a scroll. After a few moments, the conductor opened the carriage door. “Ladies and gentlemen, these bounty men are on the hunt for a violent criminal.” Panicked noises sounded from the passengers. The conductor raised his palms. “Quiet, please! The sooner we disembark, the sooner we will arrive in Austellus.”
Everybody rose and headed for the exit, but Marigold remained seated.
Wringing her hands, Marigold chewed her bottom lip. She glanced around the coach for hiding places but found nothing. Her gaze fell to her feet. She might be small enough to squeeze under the seat in front. However, before she even got a chance to try, the large man next to her yanked her up by the arm.
Marigold yelped. “What are you—”
“You heard the conductor. Let’s get a move on.”
Marigold’s heart sank. she was no match for this brute, and she had no choice but to walk out of the coach. Her fellow passengers stood in a line on the side of the vehicle, and two of the horsemen dismounted and held lanterns to the passengers’ faces. With her pulse pounding so hard it muffled all sounds, she disembarked and trudged through the frosty ground. Twigs cracked beneath her feet, and the cold seeped into her soles. She joined the end of the line, and the man stood beside her.
One of the horsemen leaned forward and squinted in her direction. “Captain, skip to the end!”
Panic exploded in Marigold’s chest, and she readied herself to sprint, only to be pushed back by the large man. He lunged forward, brandishing a broadsword at the officers, who parried his blows. She yelped, and screams rang out from her fellow passengers. The other two horsemen jumped down and unsheathed their swords. Marigold staggered back, her hand on her heart. So the man was also an escapee like her! She couldn’t believe her luck.
“It’s terrible!” said a blonde woman about Marigold’s age.
She could only offer a silent nod in reply.
The sword fight continued, and the wanted man slashed the captain across the chest. The officer cried out and fell to the ground.
“Sir!” One of the other officers rushed towards his fallen superior.
Marigold clamped her hand over her mouth. This was far more violent than the skirmishes she had witnessed and participated in at the House of Corrections. The wanted man raced towards the horses, jumped on the nearest one and sped down the road. One of the officers made pursuit.
While the two remaining men helped their captain on to his horse, the conductor ushered them all back into the stagecoach. “They’ve found their man. The rest is nothing to do with us.”
One of the officers got onto the Captain’s saddle and rode back in the direction of the capital. A sigh escaped Marigold’s lips. It was a callous to be relieved that someone got hurt so that she could escape undetected, but these men were upholding a corrupt system.
In no time, most of the passengers re-embarked. Marigold stepped up into the coach, and a large hand clamped on her shoulder. She turned. It was the remaining officer. He had been the one looking in her direction. “Are you Merry Gold?”
“Who?” She made her eyes as wide as possible.
“From that terrified look on your face, I’d say you’re the wench who bludgeoned her parole officer in a brothel.” He gave a filthy laugh, but Marigold couldn’t see any humor in the situation. “There’s a bounty on you, and it’s a lot larger than the one on that oaf who escaped. As soon as I bring you in, I’ll be drinking brandywine for a month!”
Marigold gulped. “If it’s money you want, I have plenty.”
His face split into a grin. “Unlikely.”
She fumbled into her pocket and pulled out the bag of gold. “Here.”
His eyes bulged. “Where did you get that?”
“Does it matter?”
“It’s an offense to bribe an official of the Boreas Corrections Office, Missy. What makes you think I won’t pocket your windfall, bring you in, and get two huge paydays?”
Marigold let out a pained sigh. “Because I would tell them that you took a bribe, and you’d also be facing jail. And there’s no brandywine there.”
He snatched the bag of gold from her hand and jerked his head towards the carriage door. “This deal is only good for today. If I see you again, I’m bringing you in.”
With a nod of thanks, she scurried into the stagecoach. The door shut behind her, and the driver set off. Marigold walked back to her seat. The other passengers sitting on the aisles seemed too shaken by the witnessed violence to have noticed her conversation with the driver. However, the blonde girl gave her a pained smile, which Marigold returned. The lights went out, And Marigold sank back into her seat. She ran a trembling hand through her hair, and blew out a shuddering breath.
With any luck, she would leave the country before a new set of officers returned. By bribing that man, she had committed another hangable offense.
Chapter 3
“Border control!”
Marigold awoke with a start. Her eyes snapped open, only for harsh sunlight streaming in through the window to make her squint them shut. “What now?”
She leaned across the seat and peered out of the window to check if they’d reached Austellus. Instead of a bustling town, the stagecoach stood in the middle of a roadblock. A wagon, pulled across the road by two shire horses, stood in their path. They appeared have stopped alongside dense but colorful forest consisting of broadleaf trees and purple shrubs that would never grow in a wintry land like Boreas.
A procession of armed guards boarded the coach, each carrying money boxes. She didn’t recognize their burgundy uniform, so she guessed they couldn’t be looking for her. A few of her inmates had discussed the jurisdiction of the four districts of Igneous. Apparently, once a criminal crossed the boundary line of their district, they were as good as safe. Their governor would have to petition his counterpart for permission to send officers to drag the fugitive back. This was a lengthy process which gave the criminal time to leave the country and escape justice.
Marigold leaned forward, brow furrowed. Why would guards, clad in official burgundy uniforms, carry money boxes? It didn’t make sense.
The conductor walked to the middle of the aisle, palms raised. “Ladies and gentlemen, please declare any imported goods to the border control officers. Make sure to have the right change for paying both your import and entry taxes.”
“What?” A large man sitting near the front of the coach stood. “I’ve been traveling in and out of Austellus since I was a boy, and never once have I paid such ridiculous tax!”
“Take it up with the new Queen,” muttered an official whose buttons shone brighter than those of his colleagues. “We are only carrying out her orders.”
Marigold chewed her bottom lip. The confused passenger had a point. None of her fellow inmates had ever mentioned entry taxes. That tended to be som
ething paid when citizens of Igneous went to countries like Habilis. Around her, the angry chatter of the other passengers grew in volume. It seems that no one else had heard of these taxes.
The large man near the front folded his arms and stuck out his chin. “I’m not paying, and neither are any of these good people.”
“Is that right?” The guard bared sharp, white teeth.
“Right!” chorused many of the other passengers.
Marigold squinted. Underneath the well-cut, burgundy uniform was a physique that looked too strong to be human. She glanced at the other scowling guards, who all had the same stature as their superior. She gulped. They had to be wolf shifters. They mostly stayed in Oriens, the region on the east of Igneous. She hoped they were nicer than the bear shifters she had encountered.
With an inhuman speed, the guard grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck and hauled him towards the front of the coach. Marigold clapped her hands over her mouth to suppress a gasp. Another guard pushed him out of the door. He tumbled onto the cobblestones, only to be kicked in the gut by another official standing outside. Marigold’s stomach twisted in sympathy.
Their leader rested his fists on his hips, pulled back his shoulders, and rocked on his heels. “Anyone else want to make a protest?”
Marigold’s stomach dropped, and a whimper escaped her throat. Several of her fellow passengers cried out, but nobody spoke. Swallowing in quick succession, she ran her fingers through her hair. She had given all her money to the bounty hunter! If she didn’t enter Austellus, everything she had endured would be for nothing.
The guards stalked down the aisle of the coach, collecting payments and throwing out those who did not have the funds. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her breath quickened to heavy pants. It was too late to hide. Maybe if she left the vehicle of her own accord and entered the woods, she could walk on a path parallel to the road and enter Austellus that way. On shaky legs, she stood and walked towards the guards.