by Lia Black
"Ugly words from such a pretty mouth, whore." The man bent over, hoisting Veyl to his feet.
Veyl wobbled in the bindings, having to rely on this brute to prevent him from toppling over. The man hauled him along by the collar of his robes, forcing him to hop to keep himself from being dragged across the dirt to the edge the clearing. The exercise was doing nothing for his current condition, and his insides burned as he tried to hold his water.
The man untied the ropes around Veyl's wrists, one of which was painfully bruised and stiff. "You keep your hands to yourself, whore," he warned.
He remained behind, maintaining a firm grip on Veyl's shoulder. Although the difference in their heights was negligible, the difference in mass between them was obvious. Veyl could hold his own wrestling in the bedroom, but it was a lot different than trying to best a man who was built to hold a sword.
Veyl lifted and gathered his robes so he could relieve himself, and scanned the landscape in front of him. Trees. Possibly hundreds of them with no road in sight. Veyl listened for any sounds of civilization, even holding his breath as he strained to hear any familiar noises, but aside from the calls of birds and the rustling of animals through the underbrush, he heard nothing.
Off to one side, a black horse nibbled grass lazily in a shaft of watery sunlight. The light filtering through the branches suggested that it was perhaps mid-afternoon, and although he hadn't felt like he'd lost more than a day, he couldn't be certain how long he'd been unconscious
Veyl let out a long breath when he'd finished, finding some small relief from an empty bladder, and glanced over his shoulder at his captor.
"Just what is it you intend to do with me?" he asked, shaking his robes back into place. He wanted to be brave. Perhaps if he was haughty, it might be convincing enough to make both of them believe it.
The man turned him around by putting pressure on his shoulder until Veyl had to move to lessen the pain. He hopped in a small circle and the man released him once they were face-to-face.
"Hold out your hands."
Veyl opened his mouth to protest but snapped it shut before the words could form. Just because this man hadn't raped him or murdered him didn't mean he wouldn't. Reluctantly, Veyl held up his wrists to be bound once more. He winced as the rough hemp dug into the bruises, and was surprised when his captor loosened the ropes just a little. He looked up into the man's face; his dark features were stern as he focused on the knots he was tying.
Briefly, his steel grey eyes met Veyl's gaze, but then darted away immediately.
He grabbed Veyl by the scruff of the neck, catching up his hair in the fabric of his robes, and led him hopping along back to where he'd been when he'd first woken up. Instead of easing him down, he simply let go. Veyl lost his already precarious balance, landing on his knees in the dirt. The jarring pain he expected to feel was mitigated by a layer of fresh pine needles carpeting the forest floor. When he looked up, the man had returned to the fire, presenting his back once more.
"How can you do that?" his captor's voice came low and husky.
"Do what?" Veyl's attempt at projecting any level of power was too tiring to maintain and his head was starting to hurt.
"Lie to men. Trick them into using your body as a woman's."
"I've never lied to anyone," Veyl sighed. He was tired and hungry and generally uncomfortable. All he wanted was to go to sleep and wake up in his own soft bed.
"You lied to me! I would never, ever, touch a man like that!"
The words were sharp and angry, and felt like an icy slap across Veyl's back. He shrunk down, raising his hands to shield his face when the man turned on him, his fists clenched and eyes ablaze.
Veyl was not used to being yelled at, and he wanted desperately to say the right thing to make it stop. Fear slithered through him, greasy and cold. Any answer he gave could provoke this man to violence, but then again, so could remaining silent. He'd tried to take his own life before, and had told himself numerous times that death would be much more forgiving, but that was death on his own terms. When confronted with the possibility of someone killing him, Veyl wanted desperately to live, so he tried his best to appease the man.
"Any man who comes to see me comes because they know what I am…I-I'm sorry, I never meant to deceive you."
His voice sounded hollow, as if he was listening to somebody else say the words, and he really wished that were the case. He'd been fortunate to have been protected from men who would harm him based on whom he brought to his bed. The one time a man had confronted him, Ahrn had been there to save him. So where was Ahrn now when he needed him most?
"Are you going to hurt me?"
The man's jaw shifted as he ground his teeth together, his angry gaze still burning. "A man has offered me a lot of money to bring you to him."
It wasn't exactly a "no", but the implication was there.
"What man?" Veyl began to relax his defensive posture as his immediate fear of being struck abated.
"Even if I knew his name, I wouldn't tell you." His captor's voice was now a low growl.
"But why would somebody want me?" Veyl hadn't meant to ask the question aloud and the man turned away from him as if he hadn't.
The only reason Veyl could conceive of anyone wanting him was for his body, but if that were the case they could much more easily schedule an appointment to see him. Perhaps it was a man who was jealous of his time spent with other men--one who wanted to keep Veyl for himself? The notion was flattering and a bit too romantic to be true. Veyl shuddered as another thought occurred to him, and before it had been fully formed, his captor gave voice to his fears.
"Maybe your guard captain did something to make somebody angry. Maybe they plan to use you as bait. Maybe they want to kill you themselves. I don't really care as long as I get my money."
"H-how much are you being paid?" If it was ransom they wanted, then perhaps Veyl could buy his own freedom and go home.
The man sneered over his shoulder as he crouched near the flames. "Why, think you can offer me more?"
"Tell me." Veyl lifted his chin, shaking out his long hair as he leveled his gaze at the criminal.
Kaidos scratched the dark stubble on his chin. "All right then, ten thousand daisoms, half up front, half when I deliver you."
Veyl felt his heart drop into his stomach and it suddenly became difficult to breathe. "How is that possible? It's more than I make--including the house's profit--in a year..." His voice caught in his throat and he looked away.
"Well then, looks like your guard captain is going to be pulling some extra shifts if he wants to buy you back." The man turned back towards the fire and began poking at the glowing embers with a long stick to stir up the flames.
"That won't happen." Veyl's voice cracked as the hope drained out of him. "Engel doesn't need me. He has a wife."
"A...woman?" The man stopped poking at the fire and looked at Veyl from over his shoulder once more.
Veyl pulled his knees against his chest. His fear had been replaced by nausea as he felt Ahrn's rejection all over again. "Men don't marry whores...and they certainly don't marry other men. My affections are reserved for back alleys and bedrooms." He wanted to cry or curl up in a heap and just cease to exist. Nobody actually loved him, and no one would miss him when he was gone. Veyl blinked as his nose started to burn from the threat of tears.
"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you, whore?" His captor snarled and turned his face away.
The arrogance of this man was like another slap in the face. How dare he mock his heartache! Without considering the consequences, which was something Veyl rarely did, he blurted out the first vicious thing that came into his head.
"You're at least as much of a whore as I am! You sell out your sword as I do my body. At least I recognize when I'm getting fucked!"
In retrospect, it probably hadn't been the wisest choice of words.
Veyl yelped as the man rose up quickly, turning on him, his face red with rage.
&nb
sp; He was going to die. This man was going to forget about the money and beat him into a bloody mess. Veyl curled into a ball, shielding his face with his arms as he tried to prepare himself to receive the first of many painful injuries, but the blow never came. He heard his captor swear softly and spit in the dirt, and gradually the crunch of pine needles under his feet as he walked away.
Veyl peeked out from under his arm and saw the man back at the fire where he'd been previously, now wearing his blood-stained shirt. He crouched with his shoulders hunched as if carrying the burden of the world. Although Veyl's thoughts about him were a long way from compassion, he did have to wonder what would drive such a man into abducting a stranger for coin.
Veyl's stomach growled and he fidgeted. His wrists and ankles were starting to feel raw where they were pressed together, and he was generally uncomfortable. He tried to remember the man's name and was surprised that it had slipped his mind. He'd never forgotten the name of any customer before, but then that was likely because they asked him to repeat it over and over as they were fucking him.
His abductor got up and moved to his pack on the ground near his horse. He rifled around for a few moments then rose, carrying something in his hand that was wrapped with cloth.
Veyl flinched as he crouched next to him.
"Food." The man said and unwrapped the loaf of bread he'd been carrying. He broke off a portion and placed it in Veyl's bound hands.
"Thank you." Veyl said, more out of habit than gratitude. He had little to be grateful for at the moment, other than not being dead or dying. He nibbled at the slightly stale crust, hoping that this would not be his only meal for however long he'd be with this man. He met his stormy eyes briefly as a flask was offered to his lips.
"Water." The man said.
Veyl allowed him to press the container to his lips and he took a small sip to help wash down the dry bread.
"What should I call you?" Veyl asked him after the flask was set aside.
The man regarded him for what seemed an uncomfortable eternity, and Veyl sighed, assuming he wasn't going to give him an answer.
"Kaidos," his captor finally said.
"Thank you, Kaidos."
Veyl saw Kaidos' body tense slightly as the name left his lips.
"You can call me Veyl."
And just like that, the cold wall rose up around the man once more. "I'll call you whore, because that's what you are," Kaidos said, curling his upper lip.
Veyl sighed, rolling his eyes. "Do you have to be so cruel? Isn't it enough that you beat and kidnapped me?"
"I didn't steal you away because I needed a friend," Kaidos grumbled.
Veyl didn't believe that was entirely true. He'd met enough lonely men in his life to know that Kaidos was one of them.
"Why do you hate me? Is it because I sell my body, or because I'm a man?"
Kaidos seemed to ponder the question for a moment.
"I hate you because you are a man who mocks a woman to sell his body to other men."
Veyl took a deep breath, trying to maintain his practiced composure. "I don't purposefully deceive people—I can't help how I look. My looks are what helps me earn a living. Perhaps you haven't noticed but I don't have the arms to swing a hammer, or whatever manly job you think I should be doing."
As expected, Kaidos' eyes moved slowly over his body, and Veyl subtly lowered his knees to give the man a better look.
"Besides all of that, I'm half-elf. No one would trust me enough to give me another kind of job."
Those words stuck home with Kaidos. Veyl could see it in the way his jaw was set, and the blinking of his eyes as though he'd just awakened. This man obviously knew what it was like to experience distrust and hatred simply because of race. Likely, that was why he'd turned to a life of crime. It didn't make it right, but at least it was understandable. Still, they were a long way away from becoming comrades.
"You talk too much," Kaidos said, but didn't make any effort to move.
"Just be thankful I'm not yelling for help." Veyl tilted up his chin.
"I could cut out your tongue you know—say I found you that way." Kaidos had not said the words with nearly enough conviction for Veyl to believe them.
"If you do I'll swallow my own blood until I drown. Besides that, you'd lose the rest of your money—what good is a whore without a skilled tongue?"
"Well I can't listen to you blathering on all the way to Dandre," Kaidos grumbled.
"Dandre?" Veyl had lived a very sheltered existence inside the walls of Aaullsworthe, but he knew the names of most of the towns nearby. This place—Dandre—he'd never heard of.
"Across the sea." Kaidos plopped down on his bottom and tore off a section of bread for himself.
"But I don't know anyone from Dandre." Veyl frowned as he peeled back the layers of memory, trying to remember if anyone had ever uttered that name before. Not even Ahrn, who had been nearly everywhere as far as Veyl was concerned, had ever mentioned the place.
"Well, they know you."
"How far away is that?"
Kaidos shrugged, "A few weeks…then another week and some days over the water." He stopped chewing and made a face like he'd just found a mealworm in his bread.
"That's a long time to be stuck with someone you can't stand." Veyl offered what he suspected Kaidos had been thinking, except he had the distinct feeling that Kaidos didn't hate him as much as he claimed. Whether it was because Veyl looked like a woman or they knew he was a man, men were always attracted to him. He suspected Kaidos' interest was a little of both, even though it was obvious that Kaidos would never admit it to himself.
Or maybe it was all just wishful thinking. Veyl had been very attracted to Kaidos the moment he'd seen him in the room at the inn. Kaidos was beautiful and dangerous—a combination that Veyl had always longed for but had never known to be real. The scars on Kaidos' back were those of a lash—there was nothing else they could be—and they had damaged and distorted a large, black tattoo that covered Kaidos from shoulder to waist. Veyl wasn't certain what it had once been and it didn't much matter now. It was that he'd committed to something—some idea or symbol—that meant so much he was willing to make it part of his body. Not a name—Kaidos did not strike him as the type to be so frivolous in his affections—but something that meant devotion just the same.
"It will likely be worth it for you," Kaidos finally answered. "You're probably going to be some nobleman's plaything."
That didn't sound nearly as appealing as Veyl thought it should. Most noblemen he'd known were older, and all were narcissists. It was difficult to be the center of attention when all they did was talk about themselves. Veyl used to feign admiration, because they paid very well and he figured an hour of his time was not so large a price to pay in order to have access to some of their gold. But when they went on to tell him how fortunate he should feel that they picked him out of all of the beautiful women at the Silver Tree Manor, Veyl was unable to bite his tongue. Rather than making him unpopular, his insults earned him a reputation as being "saucy" and he discovered an entirely new clientele in those nobles who believed they deserved to be punished for being such pricks.
Perhaps that was partially the reason he'd become so jaded. He was novelty, and regardless of how he misbehaved in the eyes of what was proper etiquette for a house companion, the men always found it delightful.
"I don't want to be a nobleman's plaything," Veyl mumbled and realized he was pouting by the frown on his kidnapper's face.
"I thought that was the goal? Isn't that why you became a whore?"
Veyl sighed and rolled his eyes. "Did you become a criminal for a chance to swing on the noose? I didn't exactly choose my profession. More like, it chose me."
The daylight was starting to fade and the sounds of the forest began to turn to those of nighttime. A wolf howled in the distance, joined by a chorus farther away, and Veyl shuddered. "Wolves?" He was not accustomed to being out in the forest at night—or out of Aaullsworthe fo
r that matter.
Kaidos shrugged. "They are far enough away."
"B-but what if they come closer?" Veyl shifted closer to Kaidos, which took some effort considering he was still tied up.
Kaidos looked at him from under his black eyebrows, but didn't move away. "You'll be fine."
"You'll protect me?" Veyl fluttered his lashes, a typical maneuver for getting his way.
"I'll make sure they eat me first," Kaidos said, without a hint of jest.
*~*~*
Kaidos hadn't considered how much time he would have to spend with his captive during the journey to Dandre. Suddenly the money he'd been offered didn't seem like quite enough. Would it have been any easier to transport a woman? It seemed to him, despite the physical differences, this whore was going to behave with those troublesome parts of a woman's nature that drove Kaidos insane. Upon waking, Veyl's beautiful face had spat out words befitting an ill-mannered guttersnipe, then he'd switched to feminine arrogance, childlike fear, and just plain stupidity. Calling Kaidos a whore of sorts had pierced too near a wound that was still festering. He'd been able to restrain himself, but for a moment he'd wanted to bash the pretty boy's face in.
Still, he could somewhat comprehend Veyl's unwillingness to become a nobleman's plaything. He'd been one himself in a manner of speaking. Although his time with the Lady Adria DeMarkay had been voluntary, it still nearly ended up with him swinging from a rope.
The wolves howled again and again his hostage inched closer. Kaidos felt the discomfort of a young man in the presence of a beautiful woman, not the disdain he tried hard to project. Veyl was lovely—there was no denying it, but he was also a man, and likewise, that was difficult to overlook.
Within the Wanderer tribes, there was something known as a twinheart. It was a title given to men who could love men or women equally. It was mildly acceptable to be a twinheart—though never encouraged—as long as one took a proper Wanderer wife when it was time, and as long as the twinheart had never lain beneath another man as a woman would. Those men were shunned by the tribes, and in some cases exiled or mercilessly beaten should a wife claim her husband's affection was stolen away. So men who would be called twinheart often chose to lie with men who were not of a tribe. Probably men like Veyl, could they afford it.
