by K MacBurn
The Deer’s shoulders slumped a little, not wanting to answer but fearing the consequences if she didn’t.
“I’d rather be here than the street.” She whispered.
Ransidius watched the teen’s face for a reaction, and was not disappointed when her jaw clenched, and her eyes narrowed. It was clear she had lots to say about the line of questioning, but was biting her tongue so as not to get the Deer into anymore trouble.
Ransidius stepped back and smiled wickedly.
“Strip.”
Taylor balked at the sudden demand, and watched in horror as the Deer lifted a hand to start removing her dress.
“No! No. Please don’t. You have proven your point, you don’t need to do this.” Taylor held a hand out to stop the Deer, and stepped in front of the Sabre Lord with head bowed.
“Prey are here to serve, and she is going to earn her money. It’s as simple as I am bored, and she is here.”
Then Taylor did something that took both the Deer and the Sabre by surprise. She looked up into Ransidius’ eyes with a firm stance and set jaw.
“There is nothing I can do to stop you, so I offer you a trade instead. I offer myself, willingly, as opposed to this petrified Deer.”
There was a long pause.
“Willingly?” Ransidius said with a growing predatory smile.
Taylor stood still as the big Cat considered, his eyes playing down her body.
“Get lost.” He growled at the Deer after a moment. The Deer bolted but not before shooting the teen one last, grateful look.
As the door snapped shut Ransidius leaned forward.
“I am interested to see what willingly means to you.”
Chapter 13
The next day, Ransidius escorted her back to her chambers. She had planned on just crawling into bed and trying to forget, but her reflection stopped her short
The Sabre’s shirt was wrinkled and way too big, her hair was combed back with her fingers but disheveled, and she smelt of Ransidius. Strongly.
With a small groan she flopped face first onto the bed. A bath and sleep were needed.
In fine coincidence, the little Deer servant that that she had rescued arrived with a food platter and a bucket of hot water to top up a fresh bath.
When Taylor saw her, she hopped out of the bed, but hesitated by one of the posts, unsure of what to say.
“Thank you,” Taylor said to her as she set the tray down. The Deer looked taken aback.
“You don’t have to thank me, it is my job.” She squeaked. “It is I who should be thanking you! Usually we can avoid the underlings, but I was not paying attention when they cornered me. What you did was selfless, and honorable. But then for you to offer yourself to the Lord in my stead!” She dropped to her knees and bowed low.
“I didn’t do much," Taylor replied, “In fact I think I might have caused you more trouble in the long run, putting you on their radar. I wish I could have done more.”
The Deer trembled and looked up at her.
“You did so much. I fear I would not have survived last night, if not for you. I was scared when the males accosted me downstairs, but the Lord, he has never taken a Prey into his chambers; it was terrifying.”
“Yes, I assume he has a parade of Lioness’ through there.” Taylor agreed. The teen helped the Deer up so it wouldn’t feel so awkward.
“That is true. Lioness’, Predators, and the Crow witch. Unlike some of his underlings, he does not need to force himself, unless he is making a point.”
It did not come as a surprise to Taylor to learn the Sabre Lord had only brought the Deer there to teach a lesson. She mentally waved the thought of manipulation away just because it hit too close to home, and she couldn’t deal with that right then.
“So, tell me, why do you work here?”
“My father is the head of the Servant crew, and he made me come because he couldn’t find enough Animen to volunteer.”
“Who in their right mind would volunteer?” Taylor asked in wonder.
“A lot of us are poor, and the Sabre lord does pay. It is not very much, but it puts food on the table.”
Taylor winced at her own stupidity.
“I am sorry; of course you would have your reasons.”
“It is all right miss; we all do what we must.” She stood and approached the teen cautiously. “But if I am honest, I don’t want to be here. I will leave soon, if I can, and I wanted to let you know there is something in the castle you need.” She pulled up close to Taylor’s ear and whispered. “The key to the gate. The Crow Witch has it in her tower. She often tries to reverse the magic so they can send raiding parties to your world, but had so far been unsuccessful.”
That was unexpected, and Taylor had to mull it over.
The Deer poured the hot water into the tub and bowed her way to the door.
“Have a good day miss.” She smiled as if she had not just dropped that bomb of information in the human’s lap.
“You too.” Taylor mumbled, thinking.
The Deer bowed again, then knocked on the door. A gruff Sabre let her out before snapping the lock back into place.
It was just something else for her to think about as she ate and bathed.
For the rest of the day, she was left to her own devices.
The hours ticked by slow as she tried to do anything to keep herself busy. A lot of the time was spent in the window watching the Sabre’s train, then when the itch to do something became too much, she would run a few laps around the room, do push-ups and sit-ups, and a few burpees.
With her arm healing, and the shrinking of the bruises over her ribs she was starting to feel whole again, at least on the outside.
Once the sun set, she crawled into bed.
It was there her mind found her and the gravity of everything from the last three days hit hard. Her sobs were muffled by the blanket and tears flowed free after being held in for so long.
The next morning the only one to come in was the Deer to replenish the food tray and chat briefly.
It was five minutes, maybe, then Taylor was left alone, again.
At home, she would have preferred to be alone; it meant she wouldn’t have to deal with people like Tex. Here, it was different; there were too many unknowns hiding in the dark.
Banging on the door, she couldn’t stand the silence anymore.
A different, but older male Sabre opened the door.
“What?”
Taylor held his stare.
“Is there any chance of getting out of this room, anytime soon?”
“Ransidius has orders that you aren’t allowed out unless it is with the Lioness’, and they have left for the hunt. They won’t be back for a few days.” He went to slam the door, but she caught it with a frown.
“So, I’m stuck here until they come back?”
“You are a prisoner,” the male snarled, “That is how that works.”
The teen rolled her eyes at that statement.
“Are there books, or something I can do, at least?”
The Sabre scowled, plucked her hand from the door and snapped it closed.
It was an hour later when the door opened again. Taylor was perched in the window staring at the stars when the massive Sabre Lord entered.
He was still intimidating, but after everything that had happened, Taylor was less hesitant to hop down and approach him.
“I hear you are annoying your guard.”
Taylor huffed.
“Hardly. I had some questions.”
The Sabre held out a package to her.
Taylor hesitated before taking it and unwrapped the brown paper. Two leather-bound books emerged. Jarden’s magic transferred over to written word, conveniently. In her curiosity of the contents, she didn’t realize the Sabre had come up behind her till she felt the heat of his chest on her back. She chose to ignore his proximity for the moment as she flipped a couple pages.
He leaned over and his breath brushed her ear as he spoke.
“I was not surprised to hear you were going stir crazy in here by yourself, or that you asked for books.” He admitted.
Taylor cursed her body for reacting to him. Her heart increased a little, and a blush reddened her cheeks.
It was too much to ask he didn’t notice.
“How can you still be shy after the other night?”
“It has nothing to do being shy, and I am not ashamed of what I did, even if you had a hand in swaying my choice.” She was being honest as she glanced at him, “But that doesn’t mean I will ever get used to this.”
With a chuckle he nuzzled her neck just to feel her shudder.
He walked back across the room and eased himself stomach first onto the bed. She saw the gleam of the large Sabre’s eyes watching her.
“Bring the bigger book over.” It wasn’t an order worth fighting so Taylor brought the book over to the bed, then sat down beside the big Cat when he tapped the space beside him.
She didn’t comment on it as she opened it to the first page.
“Read it,” he growled as he turned to watch her.
The book was comprised of short stories and poems. A collection from various Predator tribes that read as if they were taken from oral stories passed down over many generations. The teen was so drawn in by the rich tales she leaned back against the Sabre to make herself comfortable.
Ransidius smirked as she continued to read. Her anxiety around him disappeared the farther she got into the book, which lead to her turning the murderous Sabre into a warm pillow, and for some reason he did not object.
There was a knock on the door and Taylor tensed, but did not move away as it would have taken too much effort.
“Enter,” Ransidius growled, annoyed someone was bothering him.
Riccem and two of his warriors walked in then paused when the scene registered.
“That would explain why you sent my guard away Brother. I apologize for intruding, but we received a message from the Croc Monk.”
Taylor went rigid at the mention the Croc, but made no other reaction, Ransidius noticed but ignored it as he propped himself up on an elbow.
“And?”
Riccem paused and looked to the human.
“Would you like to discuss it later, Brother?”
“Now’s fine.”
The small Sabre nodded.
“He wants you to attend a sit down with Larris, the rebellion leader. He thinks a peaceful end can be found.”
Ransidius snorted a laugh.
“He doesn’t want me to wipe them all out.”
“We tell him to piss off then?”
“No. I will sit with them.”
“Three days, Farrows Hollow. They don’t want forces brought, either.”
“We will take a small escort. Have everything readied for the morning after tomorrow. Anything else?”
The smaller Sabre hesitated for a split second.
“He also mentioned the human. Wants her to be present.”
Taylor knew that wasn’t going to happen before Ransidius even spoke.
“We will go with our small escort; she remains here.” A claw curled around a stand of her hair.
Riccem bowed and took his leave.
The room was silent for a moment before Taylor spoke,
“You know he truly believes in the preservation of life, right? He isn’t a threat to you, personally.”
“Me and Jarden go way back.” Ransidius laid his head on his crossed arms and regarded her.
“He mentioned.”
“I don’t plan on killing him if that is what you are worried about. The Monk is a thorn in my side, but not so annoying I can’t see his worth.”
Taylor was glad to hear that, but hoped the Croc had a bigger plan in motion than a peace talk that wasn’t going to end well. She also hoped that Tarak wasn’t going to be there. The Tiger was too good of a being to lose to someone like Ransidius.
It was a depressing thought, and she did what she did best: pushed it deep down until it was buried, knowing at some point it would be brought back up, but not having the mental strength to do it right then.
Running a finger over the yellowed page of the book, she leaned back so her shoulders rested on Ransidius’ side again. She picked up where she left off and let the stories distract her from the situation.
The next day was again lonely and depressing. The day eked by and, at a snail's pace, turned into night.
Taylor tossed and turned. The soft bedding might as well have been needles, with her mind refusing to shut off.
Each scenario played out repeatedly in her head, and each time she would think of something else she should have said or done another way.
Resigned to a sleepless night, she sat up.
Blankets were a tangled mess around her body, and she couldn’t be bothered to straighten them, so she left it in a massive pile on the bed once freed.
The stone floor was cold to the touch, and a cool breeze was coming through the barred window. Taylor hugged her arms around her chest and rubbed feeling back into her extremities.
At some point the fire had gone out, but, from what she could see, there was red embers tucked near the bottom of the ash. Crouching down, she stirred what remained with the cast iron poker before tossing a couple small logs onto it.
Outside the bedroom door that led to Taylor’s chambers stood a beastly male Sabre with beady brown eyes, and long yellowed teeth.
He snorted and then gave a big yawn. He didn’t know why he had to stay here night after night; the door was locked, and the human wasn’t strong enough to break out. In fact, he doubted the human would even try. She had been there for several days, and he hadn’t seen her do anything he would consider defiant.
It was late, and no one was around. He glanced down the corridors and double checked the door. It wouldn’t hurt anything if he closed his eyes for a moment. He needed sleep too. He leaned back on the wall and gave a throaty growl as he relaxed.
A few moments slipped by, his head bobbed once as he started to doze, then twice. It didn’t bob a third time. A stone dagger drove up through his throat into his skull, killing him in an instant.
The dark form at the end of the blade gave it an extra twist before easing the twitching body down onto the floor. A quick pat down revealed the copper key for the door hidden in a belt pouch.
With a satisfied grin, the key was inserted in the lock.
The teen heard the lock, and knew anyone coming into her room this late at night did not have good intentions.
She stayed still, crouched by the fireplace and waited.
A lithe figure slipped into the room. Its head and shoulders were covered in a tattered looking black cowl with flashes of leather clothing underneath. In its left hand, a dull grey blade stood poised for quick use by its ear.
It moved to the bedside swiftly, barely moving the fabric of its own apparel.
Taylor couldn’t hold back a small gasp as she watched the blade tear through the blankets several times in the matter of a couple seconds. Someone wanted her dead.
The hooded face turned her direction, and the teen was sure she heard a hiss, close to that of a house cat.
“It would have been better had you been asleep,” the high pitched yet male voice said.
“W-why? Who are you?” Taylor demanded, as she stood up still clutching the fire rod in her right hand.
The figure came closer and she could make out the pointed features of a Weasel. He flashed her a grin filled with sharp teeth.
“The rebellion can’t have you stay in Ransidius’ hands.” he laughed as if it were obvious, “And it’s not like we could sneak you out past all the Sabres’; You’d just give us away.”
Taylor scoffed a little despite the fear. She was getting real sick of being underestimated.
The Weasel glided even closer, the dagger still poised.
“Just close your eyes, and I promise this will be quick.”
There was a moment Taylor
hesitated, a moment the thought of a quick end was tempting. Then the Assassin moved, and it was gone.
She sidestepped his attack. However, as she threw herself to the right, the blade still sliced clean through shirt and flesh. She barely had time to register the pain before the assassin was on her again.
As he lunged forward with the dagger, she swung the cast iron rod, deflecting it away. The stone scraped across the poker sending a spray of embers, still clinging to it from the fire, into the Weasels face.
He squeaked in pain, but still pushed forward desperate to finish the job before he was found by the Cats.
A blind thrust put both off balance. Taylor lost her grip on the poker and, instead of trying to recover, it she grabbed the dagger with both hands. The two fell back and hit the store floor with a resounding crash from the iron rod.
It was loud, and the cool-headed Weasel all of a sudden looked hassled. His time was up, and he had to finish the job quickly. With only a few options, he went with overpowering her. He put his weight behind the dagger and forced it down towards her chest.
“Just die.” he sneered pushing down.
Had he been a Sabre his body mass would have been enough to end it. As it was, the Weasel couldn’t have weighed much more than her. She wasn’t the fragile thing they all seemed to think she was; her Rugby career was a testament to that.
Her arms quivered as she kept the knife suspended between them. With a loud growl that would have done any animal proud, she planted her foot on his hip and kicked him away.
He recovered and attacked again, but just as he made his approach an ear-splitting roar filled the halls. He faltered and missed a beat with his step. The fire rod rolled his ankle, and he fell forward.
Taylor grunted as he landed on her hard.
There were several moments of confusion before Taylor pulled herself away. She pressed her back against the wall and waited. Another moment passed; there were footsteps running down the hall.
A wet cough and wheeze came from the prone form at her feet. With a stuttered breath of her own she reached down and rolled the Weasel onto his back.
Embedded in his chest was the stone blade. He coughed again and, to her horror, blood bubbled out of this mouth.
