Sanctuary's Assassin (The Complete Part 1)

by Loren Elias

CHAPTER 6

  Deeper and deeper into the woods they traveled, tripping across roots disguised by a rainbow in decay. She could not imagine where they could be going but it did not seem that they would arrive at a destination this night.

  When they found a clearing and pitched tents she found it odd. A fine night nuzzled them, no rain from which to cower. She thought of the nights she and Father spent out in a high oak forest with only a thin blanket and crooked baring branching between them and a thousand stars.

  As they tossed her to the ground, Ren’iv wriggled to her side, resting her head on Little Sister’s shoulder, soaking her sleeve. “I’m sorry, Nai. You know Papa said I was a poor judge of character.” She choked back tears. “I’ll take care of you, Nai'Nai. You’ll never want for nothing. Still find myself a husband and we’ll care for you ‘til you’re grown.”

  Ren’ai did not speak, looking ever forward at the men moving around her making camp.

  One, a toe headed fellow with a ragged beard and broad shoulders brushed down the horses. With every swipe bulging muscles moved, rising and falling, gaining and losing form. The sweat upon white hairs across thick forearms shimmered in the moonlight.

  Another, scraped hooves. He wore a frightfully austere expression as if a word spoken in his direction might cause an eruption of pent up rage. A tumultuous sea of curly red tufts rolled across rather wide head. A discarded shirt after the brisk journey revealed a landscape of scars across battered flesh, up on broad shoulder and whipping across his neck and back. No doubt grazed her mind that his opponents held worse.

  The third remaining of Bunny Head’s crew she saw nowhere. Likely gathering fire wood, Ren’ai reasoned. He had carried her quite a ways and she had come to know him primarily for his shoes, thick brown boots with symbols painted across the leather.

  Charles sat to the side upon a fallen tree with one knee curled up to a squared chin and the other leg dangling loosely to the ground. A near frown caressed contemplating features. Eyes of green held fast to the ground until Symbol Shoes stepped back into the blue light shifting through the forest floor.

  Charles looked up as firewood tumbled from Symbol Shoe’s arms, but Charles made no attempt to assist as his subordinate arranged the wood. Symbol Shoes spoke over his shoulder. “I’ll not carry them another day so we had best make use of them tonight.”

  Charles hopped down, only confirming Ren’ai’s name for him. He picked up a stick and began swinging it about in mock battle as if Symbol Shoes had said nothing. He walked over to a pack hanging on a low branch and pulled a wedge of cheese from it. Nibbling it, he looked to Toe Head and Curly still busy at their task. The speckled mare, Genevieve taking in the affection, no matter who the giver be, moved to Toe Head’s touch.

  As yellow flame shot upward, Charles turned to warm his hands, but not before tossing the last chunk of cheese between parted lips. It puffed one cheek as he took slow, heavy bites until he could swallow. He looked more and more like a bunny all of the time. He still worked with the bite when he spoke. “What do you say we get to that part now? Dinner can always wait until after play.” He swallowed hard.

  Ren’ai hoped he would choke. But he did not.

  Symbol Shoes’ dark eyes looked over to Ren’iv but she did not see him as she kept her own ever low. A single braid ran down one shoulder, the last look of perfection that remained about her.

  Her sight shot up as he stood before her with his feet apart, fists on shallow sides. He reached a hand under her aching arm and pulled her up. The bindings at her wrists gave little. “I agree.”

  Charles sauntered forward, selecting carefully each step. He turned, flicking the stick to the fire. He pulled Ren’iv from Symbol Shoes’ grasp. “Like I said, you don’t throw fine meat to the wolves.” He cradled Ren’iv up under a strong arm, as he spoke.

  She looked up to him as if her savior had arrived.

  Charles wiped a bit of blood from her cheek, and then looked back to Toe Head. “You don’t even know the girl.”

  “And you do?” Toe Head stepped forward.

  Charles pulled his blade free, holding it firmly toward an advance that did not come. “Of Course. We write letters.” He twisted the girl up to face him with one hand still holding firm to his sword. “Don’t we, My Darling?”

  Ren’iv could only nod.

  “Two Seasons at least, we are to write letters. A proper courtship, you said. Didn’t you?”

  “It’s only proper.” Ren'iv lifted sapphire eyes to meet green, searching for intention. “I’m a proper Lady.”

  Charles looked over to Curly and Toe Head while holding her narrow shoulders in a firm grasp. “Didn’t I tell you, you don’t throw fine meat to wolves till after you’ve licked bones clean?”

  “Just hurry it up.” Curly pulled Toe Head back. “We all deserve a taste after carrying the whores all this way.”

  “And you’ll have it.” He released her a moment, re-sheltering his weapon, then drew her up into strong arms, kicked the tent flap open and tossed her inside. He took a moment to look back at Ren’ai, curling his brow and releasing a helpless grin.

  “Have her out here, Charles.” Symbol Shoes spoke. “If we have to wait, at least we should get to watch.”

  “Got something to hide, Charles. Don’t worry, Lady. If he can’t do it right, I’ve something for you.” Toe Head stood, releasing a gesture to Bunny Head that Ren’ai did not quite understand.

  A look of fury enveloped Bunny Head as he let the tent flap close and walked up to Toe Head. They were about the same height, but at that moment Bunny Head seemed quite a bit taller. He threw a hard fist into Toe Head’s gut, and the heckler fell to the ground. “She told you. She’s a proper lady. Proper Lady’s require.” He paused. “Let’s say they require accommodations.”

  Charles turned, opening the flap again. Ren’ai saw the terror in Big Sister’s face. She tried to reach out to her, to tell her it would be alright, but she could not.

  The camp fell silent as Charles’ men sat around the fire, listening for first sounds of struggle. When the first muffled scream sailed out to them, they punched one another, signaling and laughing, casting lots before the flame to determine who would be the next to have her. As Ren’ai tried to stand, tried to make it stop, Curly held her in a tight grasp. They seemed to enjoy watching Ren’ai fight to get to Big Sister no less than imagining what now transpired just beyond thick canvas.

  Ren’ai could not make it stop, not even hold her ears. She could not block it out. Big Sister’s screams, the pleasured groans, the pounding of Big Sister’s feet against the ground in struggle. The ripping of garments, the slaps across her face again and again and the moans of pain.

  Ren’ai fought Curly’s hold with everything in her, smacking her face against a rugged belly. Her shoulders ached; she had no feeling in her hands; her wrist felt as if they might pop free from her finger bones. But the bindings grew looser with every pull.

  Charles stepped out, the look of exhaustion dropping youthful features. If he looked this bad, she did not want to see Ren’iv. He ran fingers through moon-splashed hair and re-secured that bunny tail that must have swung loose.

  Curly stood with risen scars catching the orange light of the campfire. “My turn.”

  Ren’ai now free of him fell to the ground with a thump.

  Charles thumbed a last brass button on his fitted jacket, again looking like a proper officer. “Be my guest. I softened her up for you.” He extended an inviting hand toward the tent.

  Ren’ai could hear a low whimper through the fabric.

  “I guess I will.” He stepped past the other soldiers, unfastening a button then two as he went.

  “Are none of you man enough for two women?”

  Curly looked back at Ren’ai still lying on the ground near the fire. Annoyance defined his face.

  Charles spoke up, now resuming normal breath. “I see no other women to be had, Nai or believe me we’d take ‘em. To put in the w
ay Niv might. Your screams are the appetizer. Hers are the meal.”

  Curly turned back to his destination, reaching out to the flap.

  “I see no one here man enough for two.”

  Curly pulled his hand, placing it on a hard side as if in thought. “Don’t worry, Lieutenant. I’ll shut her up for you.” He walked back the fireside, dragged her up by a throbbing shoulder, and carried her in that way toward the tent. Her feet dug across the rocky ground.

  Once inside, Ren’ai found Big Sister, balled up in the corner, staring forward but seeing nothing. Her leg lay exposed with dress torn up the side. Her chest lay open to the air. Pulling her body forward Little Sister laid her head on Ren’iv’s thigh. She started from the touch.

  Curly knelt down, crawling in behind her. Ren’ai threw a kick toward a chiseled chin, but he caught her foot, sharply twisting it to the side. He flipped her over onto her tummy. As immense hands moved up her sides, she swung her feet wildly, fighting a solid grasp.

  Ren’iv screamed as if the only strength she had left.

  Curly rolled Little Sister to the side and jumped on Ren’iv. He pulled up her braid, wrapping it around her throat once and again and pulled in tight to silence her. She gasped for breath as her face turned red then white then blue. Curly spoke. “Now you stay quiet, or I’ll kill her.”

  Ren’ai, still bound, rose, throwing her shoulder into him. An elbow met her chin, knocking her back senseless. He did not look back to see how she fell, he knew the strength of that blow. She would no longer be a bother.

  He pulled a wide belt free, set his sheath aside and freed himself to the air. Relaxing his hold on Ren’iv he pushed her back. Placing a knee by her side he straddled her hips, placing warmness upon her belly.

  Ren’ai shook the lights from her head at last pulling her hands from bondage. She looked at them a moment. The skin peeled away from her wrists, blood drying on her arms. She wriggled a finger. They worked.

  She pulled up the sheathed sword as his attention remained elsewhere. The blade met the cool night between moans and screams.

  What was she to do with this? Watching the sweat roll down a striped back, she knelt behind him. She had never thought to hold a sword, much heavier indeed than it had looked, but still no measure for Father’s axe.

  Grunts and weeping seared through her. The rage swelled within her, blurring her vision, clouding her mind and setting within her all clarity. A tree stood before her. A Maple perhaps. Speckled, seeping bark. Narrow build. What an easy slice for her ax. What a fine, fine table the wood would make.

  She watched it for a moment transfixed on the way it swayed toward her and away as if by strong wind. She felt no wind, only rolling sweat down her cheeks, or did a tear fall. A tear, why a tear with a great maple before her, a prize for her taking. She drew up the blade.

  She could hear Father echoing in her ear. “With every chop you must see your blade clearing to the other side. Every strike as if it were your last.” Two tiny hands gripped the hilt. The leather wrap softened to her touch.

  She pulled the blade to her left. The sound of Big Sister crying only a distant hum in her ear, she sliced the maple clean and true. The crying stopped as silence sheltered them.

  Only Ren’iv could see his face as she threw him from her. The look of panic twisting Ren’iv’s features, Ren’ai had never thought to see upon Big Sister’s face. Then the scream. Not like the scream of pain with a man upon her, but a surreal call as if to the wild, tearing through Ren’ai and putting her back together.

  The flap flew to the side as Toe Head stepped inside.

  Ren’ai turned without thought, driving the blade through a defenseless belly before turning the blade and pulling it, allowing him to flop to the ground. Darkness pooled beneath him. Drawing the blade to the ground she lifted herself up to standing, seeing the faces of Bunny Head and Symbol Shoes, grins of amusement quickly turning as she stood before them, with her green dress now dripping blood and matter.

  Symbol Shoes came forward with a blade of his own drawn against her. She stepped to the side with a low cut, taking the maple at its roots, sending it sprawling. A clean sever at the knee, he fell to the ground pulling flowing wounds to him before falling back dead.

  Now Bunny Head stood before her with shaking blade held close in defense. “Clavras” A look of horror shadowed youthful features.

  Gray eyes flickered up at him as a serpent’s tongue. A new light dwelt within them.

  He turned, shielding a feeble human mind from her stare as if she might possess him. As he stepped past her he dropped his sword, unable to support the extra weight upon his flight from her. She did not feel as if she had changed into a fleshy winged woman with fangs that legends said had been on the battlefield when casualties were great but it was just as well if that is what he saw. She would be what the moment demanded.

  The chase began. She dodged low branches, hacking through underbrush. She would not let him escape.

  She stopped. She saw him nowhere. So the Bunny could run too. “Charles.” She called out to him with voice hoarse, not her own.

  Ren’ai looked back through the trees to the camp. She had not imagined that she had covered that much terrain in the chase. She could only see billows of smoke at that distance and knew Ren’iv waited there in the tent, in the darkness, fear raping her face. Little Sister sighed, pulling the blade to her side and drawing a hard breath. She had to get Big Sister away from this place. Somewhere safe. “Charles, I will come back for you. Don’t you forget it.” She spoke with her voice cracking from the long night.

  Stepping back through the severed underbrush, she reached Ren’iv. She peered to her left. Low branches fluttered in a warm evening breeze. And to the right. More of the same.

  “Niv’Niv, you alright?” The flap flew open as she met the top of her head, hair strung loose.

  Ren’iv held her silence. She did not look up.

  “Niv?” Little Sister reached out to her, stepping over Toe Head and taking her hand. The hand surrendered no strength. It clunked to Ren’iv’s side as the hand of a corpse.

  “Ren’iv Luel, up.” Ren’ai spoke firmly, calling her full proper name. “We must go. Take my hand.”

  Big Sister reached up, taking the girl’s hand. Big Sister’s eyes shifted around to the battlefield around her as if bearing a glimmer of recognition.

  “It’s alright. They’re gone.” Ren’ai strapped Curly’s belt to her waist, it slipped down before she pulled it up, tightening the loops.

  Genevieve neighed. Ren’ai darted out of the tent certain of Charles return. Grey eyes shot around, and then she pulled Ren’iv out into the air.

  The horses waited for them.

  Ren’ai gave the stallion, Genner a reassuring rub down the neck and signaled to Ren’iv to get on.

  She just stood there.

  “Niv'Niv. More bad men will come to collect the Dead. We must away ourselves from here and fast.”

  Ren’iv stepped up beside the stallion but did not mount.

  Ren’ai finally understood. “If you are waiting for me to lift you, forget it. Just put your foot in the stirrup and swing your leg around.”

  A blank stare met the instructions.

  “Fine, Have it your way.” Ren’ai detached the reins. “We walk.” She handed Genner’s reins to her. “The trail is that way, but we are not going home. They know Papa. They most certainly know where we live. We take the fork to Hiron; avoid the towns until we can find a safe place. The rations left for us will last five or six days. I’m certain we’ll find a place by then. Agreed?”

  Ren’iv gave no answer.

  Ren’ai lifted a hand to caress her face. “It will be alright now. We’ll take care of each other. You’ll find a husband who will be good to you and we’ll live in a cottage in a glen.”

  Ren’iv stood staring, her eyes focusing on nothing.

  Little Sister sighed, taking up the reins of the speckled mare and pulling her fo
rward into the darkness and the unknown.