The Wildling

by Treva Harte

  "She wouldn't even wait to tell you about the bushwhackers." Another one spoke up. "And then, Mistress Salla, she saw the two of them racing off and just marched us fast back to the ranch. I guess she's real upset about Adan being gone, too."

  Morgena sighed.

  "I can see that I'll need to talk to Salla immediately. Dorinda, get them fed and bathed."

  Secondary found himself alone in the hall.

  Should he go after his mistress? Probably. But where was she?

  He could be of help. He knew it. But once again he was an afterthought. Secondary scowled. He wasn't just a plaything. He could be as necessary as Primary was to his mistress, if she'd let him.

  * * * * *

  "Your investment is bound for the bush and most likely will never be seen again, Mama." Salla scrubbed the dirt out of her fingernails carefully, not looking up. "I'm sorry."

  "No. Somehow you don't sound sorry. Angry, maybe. Or sorry over something else." Morgena looked at her offspring. Salla placed the finger brush carefully on the side of the tub. "Want to tell me what and why?"

  "There's no point now. " Salla had nothing to trade. And nothing to trade for. Adan was gone. Primary was worse than gone. After all, his precious mistress needed him. Not that he'd bothered to even tell her that when he ran after Arness. Not a good-bye or take care or even a wave of his hand.

  Men were just stupid. They deserved to be pets. Ordered around like brutes and kicked out when they were past their physical prime. What else were they good for but sex?

  "Mama, I spent several years in school. Isn't it about time we made use of my training? I'd be happy to go over the ranch books for you or-or whatever you need." Why not? She could just take up where Mama left off, traipsing about with young studs and selling them for the right price. She'd see she made a tidy profit, too.

  "I could use the help. Salla—"

  "Yes?"

  "Whenever you want to tell me about what isn't bothering you right now, let me know."

  "Nothing is!"

  "You look like your father. Perdition, I'd almost forgotten about that obstinate look he'd get around his mouth."

  Her mother walked slowly away from the claw-foot tub.

  "Mama?"

  "Yes?"

  "Where's my father? I wasn't even sure you knew who he was."

  "Goddess, child! Of course I knew. I was very careful who I bred to. He was one of my first pleasure pets. My primary pet at the time. I named him Zak."

  Zak. That wasn't much to know about a parent. Then again, she'd never asked before. Most of the girls at school had no idea who their father was. It had never seemed important.

  "Is he retired?"

  "No."

  "Sold?"

  "He's dead, child. A clicksnake got him out in the bush a few months after you were born."

  "Oh."

  "I can take you to his grave, if you like. I put up a special marker for him."

  "I'd like that." Mama had taken a good deal of trouble for a dead pet. Even a primary one.

  "He thought you were the smartest, prettiest baby ever born, you know. Zak was the one who picked the name Salla for you." Morgena sniffed. Hard. "I was very fond of him."

  "My father got to pick the name? You always pick names."

  Salla had never known anyone but Morgena to name pets. Usually women called them things like One or Primary. Morgena claimed it was because she had too many to count, but Salla had seen the trouble Morgena took to pick just the right term for a man. Why not for her daughter?

  Morgena shrugged and cleared her throat.

  "Naming you meant a lot to him."

  Unless her father's pleasure had meant a great deal to Morgena. Salla would like to believe that. But could anyone truly matter much to Morgena? Her daughter had her doubts.

  "Mama…"

  "Yes?"

  "I'm sorry I'm a disappointment. I lost Adan. I was terrible on the trail. I-I seem to make the wrong choices about a lot of things. I'll try to do better."

  "Salla, you're my daughter. The only way you could disappoint me is to not try. Last time you were here you were a child. This time you're an adult and you need more time to see where you'll fit in."

  "Yes, but—"

  I don't fit in. I may never fit in. I'm not even sure I want to anymore.

  "I've been looking forward to having you here with me, to tell you the truth." Morgena looked over her head to stare hard at the wall. "It should be interesting having you around with all your new ideas. I intend for you to start learning to head the ranch, child."

  Why, Mama looked shy. As shy as Salla felt most of the time. As uncertain around her daughter as Salla was around her mother. The novel thought gave Salla courage to ask her next question.

  "Mama, did you miss me?" Salla ventured.

  Morgena looked surprised.

  "Of course. You're my daughter. I had to do what was best for you, get you educated and such. You always were too smart for your own good. But I wanted you back when the time came. I love you."

  Salla rubbed her nose to fight tears at the same moment Morgena rubbed hers.

  "I love you too, Mama," Salla gulped.

  The two of them stared at each other. Salla wasn't sure what to say next and neither was her mother. Funny. All these years she'd been sure Mama always knew what to do.

  "Well, you must excuse me. I have an eager young pet to attend to. One who hasn't seen me in a few days. He should be cleaned up and impatient by now."

  Her mother was gone before Salla could say anything more.

  * * * * *

  Salla blinked at the ranch account books, pounded the desk with her fist, and began to re-add the figures again. Finances weren't one of her favorite things to do at the best of times. Today wasn't the best of times. Why did Mama have to take her at her word? She'd dumped all the accounts on a desk as soon as Salla was done with her bath and left her to make sense of them. So far they didn't.

  A determined rap hit the door.

  "Yes?" Salla asked, hoping for something to save her from her calculations.

  A woman she didn't recognize stood at the door. She was thin and dark-haired and her jaw was set in a determined way. Salla braced herself for trouble because the woman looked like she expected to find some.

  "I need to talk to you," she spoke rapidly and then paused. "Oh. You're not the patroness."

  "I'm her daughter, Salla. Can I help you?"

  "Uh. No. I'm sorry." The woman looked deflated. "Do you know where the patroness is?"

  Salla grinned. "Yes, but she really doesn't want to be disturbed right now."

  "Oh. Well. Oh."

  "Is there anything I can do?" Salla asked the long-legged brunette. She looked more and more lost and Salla felt a bit sorry for her tumble from determination to disappointment.

  "Do you know if the ranch is hiring?"

  "Hiring what exactly?"

  "Mechanics. Or-or whatever there is. I'm pretty handy at fixing almost anything and I learn fast." The woman swallowed. She shoved her hands behind her back but not before Salla saw them shaking.

  She looked about Salla's age. Salla thought about what it would be like to leave school without her mother and the ranch to turn to.

  "You need work?"

  "Well, not exactly. I'm an apprentice velocipede-maker. I mean, I was. There isn't much call for that out here and I plan to work here." The woman straightened up. "Really, whatever work you need done, I'll do it. I'm not picky."

  "I don't know if we need anymore women on the ranch. But there may be some neighbors we can ask."

  "No! I mean, I want to work here."

  "Why?" Salla asked.

  The woman turned bright red.

  "For." She muttered the word to her shoes.

  "For what? That's what I'm asking." Salla let a little impatience into her voice. Sympathy wasn't getting her anywhere.

  "He can't leave here and I can't buy him and bring him with me. On my way back to town it
finally hit me what the obvious solution was. I'll work here and earn him."

  Salla blinked, processed the rush of words, and then smiled.

  "He must be new if he has no name yet. I'll tell you what, mistress—"

  "Tanja. My name is Tanja."

  "I really don't know if we need people or not but Dorinda would. I also know that Dorinda's favorite vibrator broke a few days ago. If you fixed that for her, Dorinda might be grateful. Grateful enough to find a spot for you. She's in the kitchen right now."

  "I could do that."

  "Good luck to you then," Salla held out her hand, shook Mistress Tanja's. As the woman scurried away toward the kitchen, Salla sighed and went back to the account books. Some problems were easier to solve than others.

  * * * * *

  "Mistress, you'll kill yourself at this pace." Primary kept a long, even stride next to her. He wasn't breathing hard.

  She was, though. She'd forgotten to pace herself. Forgotten everything but hurt, rage and the need to hurry.

  "Yes. Curse him and the weather, too. I've lost him anyhow. Bastard." Arness slowed down but fingered her whip. "Wouldn't you know a storm would come up to ruin everything?"

  "He promised not to escape and I was fool enough to believe him…" Primary's voice trailed off. "No. He said he wouldn't run away at such at time. Then he gave his word to never abandon you to bushwhackers. I never thought about what would happen once you were safe."

  "Fine. He's not a liar. He's a quibbler with words. He's still a bastard." Arness stopped short. "I'm an idiot for trying to find him. He had a fine head start while I slept."

  "You're stopping, Mistress?"

  There was a stitch in her side. But the pain in her chest wasn't from her running.

  "Yes. Perdition take him. I have to tell the patroness about Merdeath. That's more important. I can pay Patroness Morgena for the loss of her pet."

  What will I do about my loss?

  And what will I do for money after this? I'm more and more sure I can't stomach trading anymore.

  "The patroness will understand. She's a good woman."

  "Yes. She is."

  Arness swallowed hard. She should have thought about her obligations to Morgena before this. Adan may not see himself as a pet, but Morgena did. Morgena had paid good units for him, had cared for him. Arness had broken faith with her. She should have seen Adan was freed before she had sex with him. That would have been the honorable thing to do.

  Not that she should have had sex with him at all. That would have been the smart thing to do.

  Impulsively, Arness reached out to touch Primary's cheek.

  "Primary, I'm glad you're here. You've been a constant in my life. I do love you dearly. I could never let you go."

  He wasn't Adan. Thank Goddess. He didn't mean danger, he wasn't going to leave when she closed her eyes. She was a fool to still want the deserting bastard. She was an even worse fool not to treasure Primary as he deserved. Perdition take her if she ever let him know he wasn't truly the primary male in her world.

  "I'm here for you, Mistress, for as long as you need me, however you need me. That's my duty and my privilege." Primary spoke the traditional pet's words with his eyes lowered.

  Safety. Primary stood for safety. Security.

  Why was she not entirely sure she wanted to have a pet's comfort anymore?

  Arness sighed.

  "Let's head for town then, Primary. I'm dripping wet and we might as well make an early day of it. We'll see how tomorrow goes when it arrives."

  * * * * *

  She heard the lightest scratching at the study door.

  "Come in."

  "Mistress?" The voice wasn't as brash as she remembered.

  "You're Arness' pet." The type of collar was like Primary's. "The other one."

  "Yes, Mistress." He didn't say anything else.

  Salla scratched the pen she was using against her cheek.

  He was pretty. As pretty as any of the pets Mama had on the ranch, though his hair was dark brown rather than blond. That was Primary's hair color, too. Perhaps Arness had a fondness for that shade. Perhaps she did, too. Perhaps any pet would do—

  No. He wasn’t Primary. Like it or not, she was picky.

  "Well?" Salla asked. She recalled that he was rarely quiet. Why was he staring at her?

  He lowered his eyes quickly.

  "I have a favor to ask, Mistress."

  "What?" What could she do to help a pet she barely knew? My word, she hoped he wasn’t thinking the same thing she had been a few moments ago. She’d have to refuse him. How embarrassing for them both.

  "I was hoping you could tell me exactly where you last left my mistress and Primary. What direction they were heading. What they took with them."

  "Oh! Because…"

  "Because I need to follow them. It's dangerous out there and they need me."

  "You? What help could you be?"

  "I know the bush." Secondary flung his head up as if insulted. "I can stand guard or fight as needed. They could probably use a dozen more men but no one else seems ready to go help."

  "The rain has washed away their tracks by now."

  "There are only a few logical places to stay anywhere near here. With the rain and their lack of equipment they won't go far." Secondary spoke like someone who had thought it all out several times. "I'm surprised they haven't come back sooner, to be truthful. What they're doing now is useless. Illogical."

  "And your mistress is never useless or illogical, is that it?" Salla asked.

  "Very rarely. When she is, she comes to her senses fast. I just hope bushwhackers don't get to them before she realizes what she should do."

  She wasn't going to let herself be terrified by Secondary's words. She was going to think. She wasn't going to run after a pet and a completely self-sufficient pet handler for no reason. She would simply stay here at the ranch and-and-wait.

  The only way you could disappoint me is to not try. I don't see that happening yet.

  Had she stopped trying too soon? When Primary ran after Arness, what should she have done? Something. This waiting was eating her from the inside out.

  Having Primary leave her made her angry enough, but his departure also meant he might never realize he was a man rather than a pet. That made her furious. Would he unthinkingly trot after Arness all his life, letting her make all the decisions?

  "At the very least I should've taken a knife to his balls," Salla said out loud. "He won't need them anymore, the way he's acting."

  She stopped talking when she saw Secondary's slightly stunned face. She couldn't stop thinking, though, once she'd begun.

  On one hand she'd be a fool to run off and try to find Primary and Arness. She'd probably only slow Secondary down if she insisted on coming along.

  Her gnawing need to act made her realize that one way or another, she was going to be a fool.

  "Desolation."

  "Mistress?"

  "That's where Primary took me the first night. Other than the ranch, I'll wager there is no other spot that would provide as much safety and shelter from the rain."

  "That's probably right," Secondary agreed, slowly. "You could buy supplies there, too, if you decided to stay out in the bush."

  "Then I believe we will make a visit to Desolation by nightfall." Salla threw the pen down.

  She might be able to buy one there, but she'd bring a sufficiently sharpened knife along. Just to be sure. If he’d forgotten her, Salla wasn't completely sure she wouldn’t use it on Primary's sex organs.

  * * * * *

  "Bastard. I've been spending quite a while now thinking about how to dice your balls up fine."

  "You may have gotten into the camp without anyone knowing but if you don't let me go, you'll never get out again." Merdeath spoke as carefully as anyone would with a knife blade at his throat.

  "I know my way around in the dark. No one will know I was here until tomorrow morning when they see the blood in your tent. But
first I'm going to make you sweat. Do to you what you did to others."

  "Kill me if you want. My followers will catch you. They'll catch everyone in your precious group. Including the woman."

  "Your followers will scatter like a flock of birds do when a stone is thrown at them."

  "Are you sure? Kill me and they'll take revenge,” Merdeath said. The two men stared at each other. "Kill me, then run and keep running, capture. Because they'll come after you."

  "Blast it." Adan smiled. A feral smile. The knife slid down to Merdeath's testicles. "Then I guess I'll have to make sure that doesn't happen."

  * * * * *

  "I'm sorry."

  "Primary, it's not your fault."

  "Perhaps I am getting too old to be a personal pet."

  "Primary, stop."

  He sat, hunched over his knees, and Arness leaned over to pat his head. Primary jerked it away.

  She blinked.

  "I can make it up to you, Mistress." He rolled onto his knees and moved toward her.

  This time she shrank back.

  "No, really, it's all right. I'm not much in the mood tonight myself." Arness lied through her teeth. She wanted him to touch her. She craved the oblivion of a good sweaty fuck. But not if he wasn't interested. His cock was telling them both he definitely was not.

  What was wrong with her? Had she lost her magic with males? Now they fled or lost their erections at the thought of her.

  Primary's thumbs dug into her neck muscles with just the right pressure and care.

  "I'll relax you, Mistress," he said. "You'll be in the mood soon."

  She might have struggled but his fingers moved with the knowledge of hundreds, maybe thousands, of massages he had given to her. When he kissed her neck and punctuated the kisses with small nips, she sighed.

  "Mistress, when I'm too old for you, what will you do with me?"

  The question woke her from the almost dreamy state she had drifted into. She almost straightened up, but a particularly clever swipe of his thumb made her relax again.

  "Too old, Primary? Just because you aren't hard for one night doesn't mean I should retire you."

  "I'm thirty three, Mistress. Not exactly the best age for a personal pet."