Beast (A Prydain novel Book 1)

by AJ Adams

  “Hey you.” The voice was a low growl. “Where are you going?”

  I tried to knee him in the balls (told you I wasn’t a nice girl), but he was faster than me. Meaner, too, because he slapped me. Just once, but I fell to the ground and was seeing stars. So you can guess why I was pleased to see three Guildsmen racing up. They’d go for the Beast and in the mayhem, I’d slide off.

  Wrong!

  The Guildsmen thought it was a slam-dunk, three against one, but the Beast had a long knife with a wicked blade and a hilt carved with snakes. Seeing the Guildsmen, he produced a second knife, just a little one like the one I used for butchering chickens.

  The first Guildsman ran into the snakes. He joined me on the ground, his guts spilling over the road. Then the other two were squealing, cut and slashed in a whirl of deadly double steel. As they died, the Beast just laughed. He was a complete and utter maniac.

  I took a breath, and then I was up, leaning on fingertips and tiptoes, ready to run when the Beast kicked me in the ankle. “You stay here, foa.”

  Foa, so I was a fox. Because of my red hair, I guess. Very funny. I was about to push through the pain of the bashed ankle when he shoved me again. It put me flat on my back, just in time to see a group of Beasts lope into view.

  “Hey, Rune, need some help?”

  There were about fifty of them, all of them huge, inked, and carrying knives. A pack of Beasts. I was in a world of trouble.

  “I’ve dealt with it.” The Beast, Rune, was totally calm. “The ship?”

  “Gone.” A thin, tall Beast with pale eyes and a lot of long blond hair was staring at me. “Six came in with muskets. We got them, but Sig is dead. Sven, too.”

  There was a silence filled with rage. “They took the ship?”

  “Fired it with burning pitch.” Blondie was looking away, ashamed maybe, or just angry, I couldn’t tell. “It’s gone, Rune. We’re stranded.”

  A Beast with inked swirls over his chest swore, and then the others were kicking the dead Guildsmen.

  “What do we do now?” a Beast asked.

  Rune didn’t hesitate. “Get carts, as many as you can, each with a horse. Load them up with supplies. Kill every man you come across.” He gazed briefly at me. “Take the women. We meet in the market square. One hour.”

  We have to cross the entire continent!” Blondie was appalled. “And we’ve no idea where the paths are! Or even if there are any!”

  Rune shrugged. “It’s nice weather for a walk.” He looked at me again. “And we’ll have plenty of entertainment.”

  All eyes were on me.

  Blondie had an evil grin. “Starting with her.”

  My heart stopped.

  “Not now, Siv,” Rune said.

  My heart started again.

  “We secure the cargo.” He was looking around meditatively. “And then we burn the place down.”

  Like it wasn’t already a scene from hell. But if they were going to play with fire, I would have a chance to get away.

  “Seems a shame to waste her,” Siv was looking twitchy.

  Rune leaned down and grabbed me by the scruff. “She’ll keep.”

  Wotan’s hairy balls! Not good.

  “Brant, Siv, what’s the status?”

  At that, the rest of the Beasts vanished, leaving just Rune, blondie Siv and swirly Brant. They stood around, discussing the carnage.

  “We’ve six wounded,” Brant reported. “Turid looks borderline serious, but if we get good carts and supplies, we’ll be all right.”

  Siv was calculating. “We need medicines and pots for water and cooking. A full cart of food for every two men.”

  Rune was cleaning his knife on a dead Guildsman, the blade black with blood. The sight of it gave me the heaves. This was bad, bad, bad.

  “We need to move fast,” Brant was frowning. “The Citizens will rally eventually, and we’re outnumbered.”

  “If they do, we’ll give them what’s coming to them,” Rune was totally calm. “Brant, take charge of the wounded. Siv, you’re supplies. We meet at the market.”

  He was walking down the road, holding on to the back of my tunic. To my horror, I saw we were going to walk right past the Steward’s depository. I didn’t dare look at the ditch where Cressy was hiding. I was praying she’d lie quiet. The town was in flames, cries and wails floating into the air. There were no guards, not one. From the bodies in the street, the Beasts had killed them all. There wasn’t the breath of hope of a rescue.

  “What’s that?” Siv was staring at something. Me, I got so scared that he’d seen Cressy that I lifted my arms and ducked out of my tunic. Rune was caught totally by surprise, holding on to the thin material as I backed off. Siv was staring at the ditch, so I did my best to distract him. I got him good, kicking him right in the crease of his leathers. He howled like a wolfhound, and as he fell to his knees and all eyes were on him, I was off.

  I got three steps before I got clubbed down. I lay on the ground, seeing stars.

  “Kill the she-wolf!” Siv groaned.

  “Don’t waste meat.” That was Rune.

  Meat. Terrific.

  I passed out.

  Chapter Two

  When I came to, I was in a closed cart, the type the Guildsmen use for transporting expensive cargo. My hands were tight in my back, my ankles secured, too. There was no point in wriggling to try and get free—they’d used shackles.

  The doors were open and I had a perfect view of hell. The Beasts had gathered together surviving Guildsmen. They were alive but hogtied, guarded by just a couple of Beasts. I spotted the brewer, the miller and the baker, all looking absolutely terrified. Their business was money; they’d not landed a punch since the days they were pinching girls instead of learning their letters.

  The women had been put in the centre of the market square. They were sitting in a frightened huddle, weeping, as the Beasts went around, checking out a face here, groping tits there. As they made their choices, they pulled the girl up, stripping and fucking her on the spot. Cressy wasn’t one of them. I was hoping and praying she’d gotten away.

  It looked like the Beasts were planning to take off soon. They’d gathered dozens of carts, and those who weren’t busy raping were loading sacks into them.

  I could see Rune directing people here, there and everywhere. “One cart per two men! Load your cart with supplies! We’ve a long march ahead!” Clearly he was a big noise.

  “Rune, there’s cloth and spices, but very little fresh.” Siv was back, looking harassed. “The meat warehouses went up before we raided them.”

  “Take everything valuable. We can trade later.”

  “Look what we found!”

  A triumphant group of Beasts rocked into view, dragging along a Guildsman in rich purple velvet. Tattered but rich. He was bleeding all over it, too, from a broken nose.

  “Cheat!” Siv yelled.

  The cry was echoed by the other Beasts.

  “Kill the cheating whoreson!”

  “Assistant Steward Wandsworth!” Rune was loud and angry. Icy angry. “Safe passage is promised to traders!”

  “I can explain!”

  “Not interested. Where’s the Steward?”

  “I don’t know!” Wandsworth’s frightened wail rose above the crying of the girls. “It was a mistake! A misunderstanding! We can pay compensation!”

  Rune shook his head. “Too late.” He took out his knife and looked over at the Guildsmen. “We came here to trade. You burned our ship.” He pointed at the wailing girls “We’re taking our compensation.”

  “Wait!”

  “Go to hell.”

  Then he knifed Wandsworth. No hesitation. No mercy. He just cut his throat. The blood flowed everywhere, bits of gore strewing the ground. Me, I threw up.

  I was leaning over the side of the cart retching when a hand gripped my hair. “Your turn to scream.”

  Siv. My gut was churning, but then I heard Rune’s voice. “Leave her, Siv, she’s mine.” />
  His eyes were blazing, but Siv backed off. “When you’re done with her, I want her.”

  “Sure. When I’m done with her, I’ll pass her over.” Rune looked at the riot in front of us. “But until then, kill every second man and take all the women. Pick the ones that are richly dressed. Leave the thralls.”

  Siv nodded. “Okay. What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to burn the down the rest of the Guild quarter.” Rune’s blue eyes were narrowed with rage. “They’ll suffer ten generations for their treachery.” He slammed the door of my cart shut, and I heard his voice, somewhat muffled. “Don’t forget! That flame-haired witch is mine.”

  “I heard!” Siv protested.

  “Good,” Rune growled. “Make them suffer, Siv. Make them pay in blood!”

  The next few hours were hideous. The Beasts went wild, screwing the girls; the town was burning up around them, and they were not worried at all about anyone stopping them. At sunset, they killed every second man, cutting his throat, and piling the living with the dead.

  Girls who were bruised, bleeding and screaming were passed along with cries of “pass over” while those who’d fallen silent were thrown into carts and locked in. The older women and slaves were thrown into the now empty market warehouse, and when it went up in flames, set alight by burning embers floating in the air, their screams tore the night.

  Rune came and went, focusing on filling carts. He was loading wool when Brant appeared. “Rune, a small troop of Guildsmen are holding out at a smithy. There’s something valuable there.”

  “Coming.” Rune disappeared. He was away an eon, long enough for Beasts to bring a dozen more girls, all of them weeping and wailing. All of Brighthelme was alight. These girls weren’t Guild, but they suffered anyway. Nobody was touching me, but I wanted to die, hearing their torment.

  When Rune finally returned, the Beasts were slowing down. They had filled six carts entirely with girls and with the dead littering the square, it was becoming eerily silent.

  Rune was covered in blood, but by his face, it wasn’t his. He was drawing a cart loaded to the hilt with cases and followed by Siv pulling another.

  “Move out!”

  As if they were one, the Beasts picked up the final batch of girls and tossed them in with me. The doors slammed shut, there was some yelling, and then the sound of carts rolling down the road.

  I was struggling, as one of the girls they’d piled in was lying over my back. She was a hopeless weeping mess, and she weighed a tonne. But worse was about to happen.

  “One minute.” The cart doors open and Siv appeared. He leaned over me, and the weight disappeared from my back. Then he was looping my ankles under my wrists. There was a sharp pain, and I was hogtied. “Pleasant ride.”

  The doors banged shut, and then we were off.

  I was bent into a bow, feeling the muscles in my arms and legs stretch. The shackles were tight, their uncompromising grip on my wrists and ankles clamping me so that my heels were pressed against my arse. After a few minutes, I was in agony. I was totally helpless, my face bashing against the hard floor as we went over potholes, my body screaming in pain at the unrelenting bondage.

  The girls were sobbing, sitting together in a wailing heap. “Help me,” I begged. “Untie me!”

  But the useless sheep were too scared to move. So we drove through the night, every mile deepening my agony. The pain engulfed me, running like fire through my body. I couldn’t feel my arms and legs, I couldn’t even get the breath to scream. I heard myself rasp in silent torment.

  I lost all sense of time. I couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe. My body vanished, replaced by endless, exquisite, liquid pain.

  I think I passed out because when I came to a million years later, the cart had stopped. There was a rattle, and then cold freezing air flooded over me.

  “Throw the dead into the ditch, and pass over the rest,” a voice said.

  Chapter Three

  I was flying through the air, floating in a sea of fire. Hands worked at my wrists, and then I was uncurling. As my body stretched, every muscle burst into flame. I heard myself make small noises, unable to do more than wheeze and squeal.

  Rune was hunkered next to me, looking me over as if I were a side of beef.

  “Hell!” Seven years of shutting up in the Vale were ripped away. “Wotan’s hairy arse!”

  He didn’t hit me. He just loped off, leaving me to my agony. I lay there, helpless, as my body pulsed in pain. Gradually, the waves of fire abated. I could breathe again. I could also hear, and the sounds were horrible.

  The Beasts were having fun again. They’d pulled the girls from the carts, and everywhere I looked, they were fucking. The Citizens’ sobs echoed around the camp, their wails tearing through laughter and cheers. I tried to shut off my senses, but it was impossible.

  What got me most was the unrelenting horror of it. The Beasts were insatiable, tossing around the girls as if they were dishes at a Guild dinner. As one finished, there would be the call, “Pass over!” and the next man would be on her. I knew my turn would be next, and I was determined to fight. I just didn’t know how.

  I had my eyes shut, my body curled away from the scene, when Rune came back. He dragged me up by the wrists and threw me over his shoulder. As he walked through the camp, there were cheers and whistles. I thought I’d be sick again, but I had nothing in me. All thoughts of fighting just vanished, leaving plain, paralysing terror.

  He’d set up a blanket and a bedroll a little away from the others. It was close enough to the campfires for light, not so close that I could feel the heat. I was shivering, even though the warmth of his body was searing mine.

  He opened the shackles around my ankles and pulled down my skirt. My shoes and woollen socks went, too. He pulled up my tunic, pulling it over my head and down over my shoulders. Then he pulled out his knife, the handle carved with writhing snakes, and for a moment the breath stuck in my throat, but all he did was slice open my shift. I was naked, lying flat on my back, hands tight behind me, completely helpless and too scared even to cry.

  He stuck the knife in the ground and stripped off his leathers. The tunic came off, revealing a long, lean, muscled torso, covered in tattoos. Snakes ran up and down his arms, his pecs and his shoulders. A skull blazed on his chest.

  Then he was pushing apart my legs, settling between my thighs, leaning over me. He smelled of smoke, leather and musk. It was terrifying, like being at the mercy of an animal. He was looking at me, his eyes drained of colour by the dark. His cock was hot and hard. He pushed it down, leaning it against me.

  I lost it.

  I was bouncing up, snapping at his face with my teeth, trying to knee him, and screaming, “Get off me, you stinking whoreson!”

  He dealt with it by lying on top of me, pinning me with his weight. His hands were in my hair, keeping me from head-butting him, but I got my teeth fixed in his shoulder. He didn’t shift. “Stop.” His voice was calm, a low growl. “Stop it.”

  I was snarling, biting at the hard, inked flesh, oblivious, consumed by fear and rage. I could taste blood, his or mine, and I did my damnedest to bite to the bone.

  “Stop.” He was crushing me, making it hard to breathe, and pulling at my hair. “Stop now.”

  He was dipping his shoulder, pushing it into my mouth. He tasted of salt, sweat and smoke. Suddenly, I was choking on his flesh. My chest was tight, spots dancing in front of my eyes. I let go and sucked in a shuddering breath.

  He was whip fast, jamming his tunic into my mouth. Then he leaned up a little. “Just calm down, little Ylva.”

  I couldn’t bite, but I was frantic, trying to push him off me. It wasn’t working. He lay on top of me, his erection pushing into me. He didn’t speak, he just lay there, those fierce eyes gazing into mine.

  I tried to fight but I wasn’t getting anywhere. I also couldn’t keep it up. Soon I was exhausted, and realising that writhing against him was just turning him on. His
cock was throbbing, solid and searing against my skin.

  He lifted himself up a little, keeping one hand in my hair. “Lie still,” he said. “Quiet now.”

  I couldn’t breathe, my air cut off by the cloth in my mouth. I tried to tongue it out, to shake my head, but his grip was like a vice.

  He leaned up and shifted, his cock moving between my legs. There was a momentary pressure and then he was rubbing himself against me. I could feel his length moving between my legs, iron hard, running over my skin, between my soft folds. He just kept it up and after a while, I felt myself become wet.

  I held my breath, trying to pass out, but it didn’t work. I couldn’t move, his body pinning me, his hand in my hair keeping me still. I lay there, feeling myself get wetter and wetter, feeling my fear sitting like a rock in my chest.

  He tipped his shoulder, pushing mine, and lifted his hips. Then he was piercing me, the hard, hot rod sliding inside me inch by inch. The fear fled as fury flooded through me. I was clenching, fighting all the way.

  “Calm down,” he was talking quietly, “just let it happen.”

  I wanted to scream, but the tunic stifled the sound. Bucking just helped him move deeper, and he was huge. I felt as if he were tearing me in two, splitting me in half. Frightened of the pain, I lay still, my chest heaving, wanting to cry, too proud for tears.

  “That’s right, Ylva.” He was moving slowly, rocking his hips.

  We lay there, with me trying to black out and him holding me down, moving in small, slow circles. His breath was low and even, his eyes locked on mine.

  “Quiet now. Just lie still.”

  He was running his hands over my shoulders, down my waist. He had calluses that tickled as they dragged over my skin. I felt his breath on my neck. He just lay on top of me, and I could feel him willing me to calm down. I wanted to, but I was suddenly exhausted. All the fight drained out of me, and I lay still.

  “That’s right.” He was murmuring quietly. “Let it happen.”