"Twenty-five gold..."
And hire a man to plow the field...
"Thirty."
"Thirty-five gold."
"Forty."
Tensions were heating up.
Picking the right moment, Madam Emma deftly pulled off Sollie's shirt, leaving the girl naked as a picked bone.
"Sixty..."
"Eighty..."
"Two hundred," a confident voice cut them off. "And the girl leaves with me."
Madam Emma narrowed her eyes. It was a lot of money, but...
"For one night, sir."
"Five hundred, and she will never return here."
Sollie looked for the source of the voice.
Two men: one tall and well-built, another hiding behind him. A servant?
Let him not be cruel. Please.
"Five hundred!" the madame said, nodding in agreement.
Sollie felt dizzy. The hall, people's faces, the candles—everything was blurry. Tim came up and disappeared. He would get the money: an exorbitant sum by peasant standards. Her family wouldn't starve.
It was time to work off that debt. Sollie obediently walked down the stairs. Someone threw a cloak on her shoulders. The man took her hand, his fingers cold and cruel, and dragged her somewhere. Her feet hurt, but she didn't protest. It was forbidden.
The cold floorboards gave way to the pavement and, finally, the floor of a carriage. Inside, she finally dared to raise her head and look at the men sitting across from her.
"Aldonai, lords..."
"Shut up and sit tight," the eldest told her brusquely.
Both men were wearing masks.
The carriage took off. Sollie fell silent. She didn't say a word while the carriage rode somewhere, didn't say a word when she was ordered to exit, didn't say a word while walking through a garden. Only upon reaching a big room lit by hundreds of candles, did she finally grow brave enough to ask.
"Sir, what do you need all of that for?"
The room didn't look like a place for lovemaking; in the brothel, Sollie had been shown what they might look like.
There was no bed, no toys. Just a huge candlelit hall similar to a ballroom. Pillars, a marble floor...and nothing else.
The eldest buyer silently left the room. The youngest threw his cloak down. Sollie opened her mouth, shocked to see his face. She hadn't expected that.
"And now, we'll play."
Sollie looked at the man walking up to her. Why was he flashing a sharp dagger, long and vicious? Why was he looking at her like that?
Why were his eyes so scary...just like that dagger?
Aldonai, help me!
"Let's play."
The first stab was almost painless, barely more than a puncture.
Sollie yelped and flinched back.
"What are you—"
The second hit slashed her arm. Then came the third.
"Why?"
"Because I want to."
He sounded like a giant hissing snake rather than a man.
A viper.
"I haven't done anything bad!"
"So?"
The blows kept coming, growing stronger.
At some point, Sollie realized that she would never leave that place.
She would die there.
What would happen to her next? To her family?
Mother...
Forgive me. I did what I could for all of you. You'll survive. And I...
The killer had underestimated the girl.
Until that moment, he had dealt with pampered, fragile victims who quickly lost their strength. Sollie was different, however. She might have looked delicate and ethereal, but people like that didn't survive on a farm. How could one be pampered if they needed to work from dawn to dusk?
Her small hands could hold a bucket of pig swill or a stubborn cow; pick up a toddler or a heavy bundle of twigs.
Sollie darted forward, aiming at the handsome face of the murderer that she hated so much, wanting to claw his eyes out.
At last, her nails reached him, slashing his face and drawing blood—her moment of triumph.
The murderer screamed, plunging the blade of his dagger deep into Sollie's chest.
She didn't even feel any pain, simply sinking to the floor, as if she had no bones in her body. She felt cold, and for a second, an image of her village appeared before her eyes: a snow-covered forest, an icy wind blowing in her face...
Accept my soul, Aldonai.
***
The killer kicked the girl's body.
"That skank! What a bitch!"
Still, he bent over the corpse and got his mementos. He was furious. How dare she try to hit him! That hussy! And it wasn't the first time, either. What the hell? He was becoming too complacent.
The door swung open. The second man entered the room.
"How are you? Is the game over?"
"That wench tried to disfigure me."
"Really? Show me your face."
The killer obediently turned his face to the light. The icy fingers touched his chin and bent his head a little to get a better view.
"We need to clean it, or the wound will swell."
"Bitch! Order them to throw her body in the trash!"
“As you wish. And now, let's go. I'll take care of your wounds.
“Thank you."
"Come on."
As he left the room, the second man gave out a few orders.
Throw her in the trash? So be it, then.
Chapter 7
It was early morning, and the road went just along the sea coast.
Lily was sitting inside a carriage. She wasn't allowed to hold the reins, so the cart was driven by a coachman, but she didn't mind. It was one thing to ride Lidarh, who was smarter than many people. Even if she were to lose control for a second or faint, the Avarian would do anything to hold her in the saddle.
Those draft horses, though? Lily had a lot of doubts about their intelligence. Horses weren't fools, but what if Her Grace felt giddy—which was possible early in the pregnancy? Would they be smart enough to stop? And what if they got scared and bolted? What if they got bitten? What if...
Lily didn't want that. She wasn't going to risk herself or her child. She had seen many such cases. A blow, placental abruption, bleeding—and at least a year until the next conception. It was better to avoid such stress.
Overall, Lily was in a great mood. The carriage was rolling on, Nanook running next to it, the four Virmans riding behind. The sun was shining, the birds chirping, the wind blowing from the sea left a salty taste on her lips... Had she ever thought to live surrounded by such beauty?
There was a certain upside to riding in a coach. In a car, she would have passed all of that in a second with no room to admire nature or rest. In a carriage, she got the chance to relax and look out of the window. Pure delight. It was a certain skill, being able to catch those short moments. Soon, very soon, she would see Castle Taral on the horizon.
Everything was so amazing that to Lily's shame, she completely missed the attack. Crossbow bolts flew out of the bushes with a menacing hiss.
Two Virmans fell immediately. The third one was knocked from the saddle and dragged forward. The fourth managed to dodge but got caught in the next volley. As usual, firearms were much more efficient than swords, especially considering an ambush. It didn't even matter that the snipers had only crossbows rather than guns, as long as there were enough crossbows.
“Stop! Stop right here!"
Three masked riders appeared on the road right in front of the carriage. For a second, Lily froze. If she were riding Lidarh, they would have spent a long time catching her with dubious results. But the cart...
This was nothing like the movies, where the hero could gracefully jump onto the horse, cut the harness, and charge forward.
A draft horse wasn't used to being mounted. They were trained for a different thing, and even if Lily managed to do something like that (which was doubtful, considering her pregnancy), she w
ould be chased down in an instant.
There was only one way.
"Nanook, Home! Help!"
Lily barked that so loudly that the coachman squealed and dropped the reins, which were immediately grabbed by one of the masked men.
"Be careful, you'll..."
So, they weren't planning to kill her. That was something, at least.
Nanook moved aside in a giant leap. Several crossbow bolts swooshed right next to him, and Lily gave silent praise to Eric. The Virman had personally trained Nanook as a pup, teaching him commands.
Yes, the latter was beloved and spoiled, but he was also a Virman hound. He knew his mistress' commands and followed them to the letter. Later, he might get back at her for foolish orders such as eating someone's boots or pissing under an enemy's door, but that would be later.
Those two commands were different, though. His mistress had never screamed like that. There was fear in her voice.
Dogs were smart animals. If someone was firing weapons, if they could smell pain, blood, and death, if the mistress was giving a command... It had to be obeyed.
He hurled himself to the side and locked his teeth around the hand of an unlucky sniper, crushing his wrist and moving on. Nanook easily calculated his odds. There were enemies, many of them. He had to fetch help. Like a bat out of hell, he dashed toward Castle Taral.
They were shooting at him, of course. Lily closed her fists and bit her lip, but...
All of the shots missed. It made sense, really: it was one thing firing at a mounted man slowly riding down the road, not expecting an ambush (after so many years, they had grown complacent), and quite another, aiming at a running dog. Nanook was also zig-zagging across the road and used the landscape to his advantage.
Knowing that he was under attack, he had no desire to become an easy target.
"F..king mutt," one of the men cursed under his breath and nodded at the coachman. "Give me the reins. If you're careful, you might stay alive."
Lily nodded slowly, giving her permission. What could one boy do against a dozen bandits, other than to die heroically?
The coachman obediently climbed down, passed the reins to the rascal...and immediately dropped dead. The hole in his chest indicated the reason.
Lily gritted her teeth. Those scumbags...
"Step over, you whore," the bandit said and moved closer.
He shouldn't have.
Lily didn't fear death. True, she didn't want to die, but she wasn't afraid of it, either. What was there to be scared of? She had already gotten a new lease on life. Would she travel into a third world?
She still had her hands free and her head on her shoulders. She would make it. And thus, she chose to act.
Her daggers were always within easy reach. Whether Ativerna or Wellster, she needed a weapon. The blade reached its target, guided by a doctor's steady hand right into the man's eye.
The bandit sunk down without a squeak.
"Nobody has the right to kill my men," Lily said in an icy tone, not moving an inch. What else could she do?
Grab the reins? That was not an option. They wouldn't let her ride away or turn the carriage around. Still, at least she would take some of them with her!
For a second, everything stopped. Then another bandit took command.
"All right... Countess, give me the weapon."
"Take it," Lily snapped.
She had another dagger and wasn't going to waste it—only trade it for another life.
"Countess, don't make me use force."
"Try it." There was something familiar about the bastard's voice. "Who the hell are you? Name yourself!"
The shell of her title fell away as if it had never existed.
The men jumped down from the horse and came up to her, almost getting in her face. Lily braced herself for a blow, but instead, the man lashed the horse with his whole strength. It flinched, tried to rear up, neighed...
The carriage moved, too, and Lily was immediately pulled out of it like a carrot from a garden bed. She was wrapped in a large cloak, her hands tied.
"Behave, and you'll ride. Try to resist, and I'll throw you over the saddle."
"I'll behave," Lily said through her teeth.
She wasn't afraid for herself, but her child clearly wouldn't survive a trip like that.
"Drop the dagger."
"Bitch..."
The man ignored that word. Lily clenched her teeth. The dagger fell down with a loud clang.
"On the horse. Quickly.”
Suddenly, she realized why his voice was so familiar.
Oh crap.
"Lofrayne?"
"On the horse!" Tony screamed. "Or I'll knock you out! Come on!"
Lily hissed something obscene and climbed on the horse.
Unconscious, she would lose any chances to influence the situation; otherwise, she might get the opportunity to escape.
A few minutes later, the only things on the road were a landeau with two horses, five bodies, two of which were still alive, and a few unattended horses. The abductors were racing toward the sea at full speed.
***
Lily quickly guessed where she was being transported. What could she do, though?
Hit a horse? Escape? Not on that nag! Actually, she wasn't that bad, but she was no match for Lidarh.
Kill some of them? They were already down a man. It’s a pity she had chosen the wrong one. In any case, she would get even with Lofrayne eventually; that bastard would pay her back for everything.
So what exactly was his final destination? She didn't want to ask, and it's not like any of them would answer. All she could do was to keep silent. She couldn't even muster up a resistance, considering her state!
Pretty soon, dunes loomed in front of them, confirming Lily's guess. Sea followed, and there...
A boat! A ship! And she couldn't even fight...
You will pay me for this, scum.
Lofrayne helped Lilian dismount.
"Please step inside, Countess. I hope you won't try to drown yourself?"
Lily replied with the words of her father's old military buddy spoken after the soldiers had accidentally dropped a bucket of paint on him. They didn't do it on purpose, but it was a real slam dunk, considering they were on the second floor.
Some of the men listened to her admiringly, including Tony. He let her finish and pushed her into the boat.
"Move!"
She had to obey. In her mind, she was already dreaming of sweet revenge.
The sailors doubled down on the paddles, and the boat all but flew toward the ship, leaving the horses on the beach.
***
Hans Tremain was furious. Another body.
This one, however, hurt even worse than before.
The girl was lying on the ground, huddled down, as if cold. She was so...light, so airy, so beautiful even in death. She had a white rose wreathe on her head.
That wreath did it for Hans. He ground his teeth.
It was that bastard again. He recognized his style. The cuts, the wounds, the missing pinkie... When will you stop, wretch?
But Hans already knew the answer. He would never stop.
Rabid dogs attacked humans until they were put down; that was understandable. Even if you felt sorry for the dog, you had no choice: it was its life versus yours. In this case, it was the bastard's life versus the girls', young and stupid like that one. She had a weird shirt on, though—a robe with buttons on the back.
Hans stopped to think.
A few moments later, he realized that a child's voice was coming from behind him.
"Gimme a coin, please, sir!"
Another beggar.
It was a girl of five years old or a bit older, thin, dirty-faced, and dressed in impossible rags. She was looking at him with her blue eyes, all serious, and Hans gave up.
He fished out a big silver coin from his purse and gave it to the girl.
"Hide it so nobody can take it away. And here are a few coppers, too..."
The coins immediately disappeared. The girl sniffled, wiped her nose with a rag, and sighed.
"You feel bad for her, too, right?"
"I do."
"Me, too. She was so pretty last night..."
Hans all but pricked up his ears.
"Right...what's your name, girlie?"
"Yda."
"Do you want food, Yda?"
"Yes..."
"Let’s go, then. Look, here's a tavern, Crowned Lion. Let's get some food here. Will you?”
Yda nodded.
Hans gave the girl his hand, and she grabbed it with her dirty palm.
"Yda, do you have parents?"
"I had Mama, but she died of fever last year. Papa's drinking..."
"What about siblings?"
"Nobody. I had a brother. He died with Mama."
"I see. What will you eat?"
Hans ordered the girl a large bowl of stew and some meat. She started slurping it down right from the bowl, stopping to tell her story.
Her name was Yda; she was eight. Her father was a harness maker, a good one. After her mother's death, however, he was deep in the cups, unable to work. Soon, they would get kicked out of their home. Her aunt had come from the country to help around the house, but she hated Yda and rode her hard. That's why the girl usually tried to avoid staying home.
The night before, her aunt found Yda some work. The girl hated washing fat off the plates, especially since she barely got any food herself, and thus, she ran away from home to an alley behind the brothel. She liked staying there. Nobody could see her, while Yda watched the ladies and the men. They were all dressed fancy, used big words she had never heard on the street, and inside, it was pure luxury... And so, Yda watched all of it until going home late at night.
That time, she was hiding behind a pile of trash. She saw three people exit the brothel from the back door: two men and a girl wearing a garland. That's how Yda had recognized her later. She was bare-footed, probably cold. Even Yda had boots on.
Hans glanced at the frightening boots tied with a string in several spots to keep them from falling apart and cursed silently. How could one keep drinking hogwash without thinking about his own child, whose life was also pretty crappy after her mother's passing? How? He didn't know.
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