My cries died in my throat. I had never been this scared in my life. He had to have known that such a slap would cost him his hand if not his life. Even if my father and husband cared not for me, this was an attack on their names. That’s when I knew he wouldn’t let me live to tell anyone. My screams resumed.
“I said,” he said climbing up into the carriage,”to shut! Yer piggy! Mouth!” he said, each word punctuated with a fist to my stomach.
I knew I couldn’t push him off me, so instead I grabbed his foot and pulled towards me. He lost his balance, and bent down sideways to catch himself. My foot shot out, connecting with his jaw with a wonderful crack. I saw his eyes go wide.
“That’s right, bastard. This piggy won’t be easy prey!” I spat. My victory was shortlived.
“RRRRUU BRRRRTCH!” he screamed through his broken jaw. His hands grabbed my dress and hauled me out of the carriage.
My head smacked against something hard and I tried to crawl away through the dizziness. I heard other voices. “Please help me!” I cried.
“Nrr brrrch! Nrr rrrru drrrr,” Winchester said, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling my head back.
I saw a glint of filthy steel to my right and knew that I was going to die on this deserted forest road. The steel lowered below my chin and I tried to say the Lord’s Prayer as fast as I could.
“Put the blade down, Wally,” a stern voice said from the woods. A group of men emerged from beside the road. I could see that they were bandits. Their hard faces, much like Winchester’s, wore years of hard life and penal service. A dozen men in all stood before us, some with brands on their faces marking them as thieves and degenerates.
“Shrrr brrrk mrrr jrrrr!” Winchester screamed, pressing the blade against my throat.
I felt every tick and notch on the blade, it’s pitted rusty surface ensuring that my departure from this world would be more a matter of sawing than slicing. I couldn’t remember if I’d finished the prayer, but I resigned to just ask Saint Peter for forgiveness in a short while anyway.
“Yeah, you do look a mess, Wally. She got you good,” he chuckled. He spoke over his shoulder to his henchmen, “Get the dowry.” Like locusts, the men darted forward and scrambled all over the carriage. One of them retrieved a small wooden chest from under the driver’s seat and lifted it over his head.
The men all cheered, their prize in hand.
The leader stepped closer, and I could see him clearly now. He wore a brown jacket and top hat, like a sullied urbanite. He gave me a small practiced bow and doffed his hat.
“Milady, my name is Lanky Jack, and these be my Merry Men! It looks like you gave ole’ Wally here a right good mule kick!” He grinned over at Winchester, a gold tooth shining in the declining sunlight. “Now what kind of leader would I be if I didn’t seek some recompense for my man’s troubles?”
I swallowed hard. “My…my father will pay you handsomely for my return! Silver! Gold! Whatever you ask!” I squawked, pleading for my life.
“Ehh, now milady…we both know you’re not Daddy’s favorite. He might pay for your release, but more likely he’ll spend that money on putting nooses around our necks. I’m right, ain’t I?” he said.
He was right. He was damned right. My father’s priority would be to right the wrong, not secure my life. I wanted to deny this. I wanted to lie. I wanted to live, but I was shamed into silence. My father wouldn’t save his daughter on her wedding night.
But I didn’t cry. I looked up at that smug face and locked onto his eyes.
“Aye, I thought so,” Lanky Jack said, “but do not despair. Before we send ye off to meet yer maker, we’re all going to have a splendid night. Ye see, my men been out in the woods a long while. And, well, ye might not be a prize to your Daddy, but you look fine to us,” he said, his grin coming closer.
Winchester let go of my hair, and I felt the blade leave my throat. Without a second thought, I reared back and hurled the largest ball of spittle and blood I could summon. I watched it splatter all over Lanky Jack’s face. He wasn’t grinning anymore.
“Damn you to hell!” I screamed.
A sharp blow to the back of my head and I had a sensation of floating forward before I lost consciousness.
I was back in my father’s estate. I was standing in front of the full length mirror in the parlour. I was smoothing the wedding dress over my body. It was perfect. The small pearls at the fringe were round and as white as driven snow.
My mother stood behind me, her hands on my shoulders. She didn’t say anything, but I knew she was proud of me. I had a strange sensation, like she shouldn’t be there. Why shouldn’t she be here?
Cold water splattered along the front of my dress. I looked up to see a massive crack in the ceiling of our mansion, water pouring down. I looked back down into the mirror and my mother was gone. My dress had turned black. I brought my hands up to my face and screamed silently, watering pouring down from the ceiling.
I gurgled and spat up water. I was not back in my family’s estate. I was not wearing a dress. The freezing cold air bit me all over, my soaking wet undergarments clinging to me. A campfire roared nearby.
“She’s up,” the man who stood over me said. A small pail hung from his hand.
“Well, bring ‘er over!” a voice from closer to the fire said.
Dazed, I felt hands lift me from under my armpits and drag me over to the fire. Dark, dirty faces leered at me from the darkness. The way my unmentionables clung to my body, my full breasts were visible to all under the stars. I wrapped my arms around myself and curled up, both from modesty and to warm myself up.
“Aye dearie, we been out here in these cold woods for far too long. Been a long time since we had the simple comforts of a home,” Lanky Jack said, his eyes pitiless.
The men staring at her grunted. Some licked their lips.
“Why not be a nice gal and serve these men their supper?” Lanky Jack asked, pointing to a pair of cooked rabbits next to the fire.
“As you wish,” I said, glancing around. We were deep in the forest. I couldn’t see the road anywhere, and there was no sign of the carriage either. Maybe I could run! If I bolted into the forest, I could hide in a tree hollow like a child in the fairy tales. My infusion of optimism must’ve shown on my face.
“Now,” Lanky Jack drawled, “don’t be getting no ideas about running, dear. Ole Wally here been begging me to bleed you out while you slept. Do I speak true, Wally?”
Wally’s sullen face glared at me from across the fire. A length of white fabric wrapped around his face, holding his broken jaw in place. Pure hatred poured out of his eyes at me. The hot light from the fire licked across his face, reminding me of the stories of the demons of Hades.
I stood, shocked at how dizzy I was. I resigned that I was in no shape to run right now, so I needed to buy more time. I’d never been with a man, but I’d heard salacious stories from the maids. I knew a man often fell asleep after doing his business on top of a woman. Maybe they’d all be asleep before they decided to kill me. I could sneak away then. I walked over to the rabbit and knelt down.
“Ain’t never been served by no fancy lady ‘fore!” one bandit said excitedly. “How fancy dis one?”
“Well, Hoppy, she’s a rich brat whose daddy wanted to marry her off to a Duke’s son,” Lanky Jack explained.
“Rich like the Queen?” Hoppy asked, his face blank sincerity.
“No, Hoppy,” Jack sighed, “this one isn’t fit to change Her Royal Majesty’s chamber pots. But she ain’t never been cold at night. She ain’t never been hunted by dogs.”
“She ain’t never gone hungry neither!” Hoppy added, guffawing at his own joke.
My cheeks went bright red, and I focused on the thought of this imbecile in the months ahead after the group has been caught. How he’d cry and piss himself as he walked up the gallows steps. I smiled as I served him a few pieces of the rabbit.
I served the other members of the group their rabbit. Winchest
er never stopped glaring at me. When I served him, I saw that the white fabric wrapped around his head had been torn from my wedding dress. His filthy fingers began tearing it into tiny pieces, small enough that he could swallow them without chewing.
The rest of the men ate their rabbit quickly. I’d never seen people eat so quickly, without savoring it. Soon they were all done, looking at me like I was the next course.
I saw the skinny dunce they called Hoppy lean in to Lanky Jack and say something. Jack’s ever present smile broadened.
“Now that’s a splendid idea, Hoppy!” Jack said. “Men, Hoppy here has brought something interesting to light. Our dear captive here is guilty of no crime. By what right do we hold her prisoner?”
Small murmurs echoed through the group. Winchester stood and pointed at his jaw. Jack ignored him.
My heart was aflutter. They were going to let me go! Somewhere in their bastard souls they had found a smidge of the Lord’s good grace!
“Indeed, Hoppy has suggested a trial!” Jack said. All his men cheered. “Our plump little pigeon will be given the justice of her peers. Boys, bring the pillory!”
My heart sank again. I saw them bring out a pillory, where many a degenerate and drunkard would stay locked in the middle of town to be mocked and harassed. Strong hands grabbed me. I swung my fists, and connected with one face with a lucky hit.
My celebrations were shortlived as I was bent forward, head and hands placed into grooves. The wood smelled of damp forest, and a dark coating of slime covered my skin. The wooden bar above my head was about to slam down, locking me helplessly in place.
But, it didn’t. A wolf howled out in the darkness.
I’d never heard such a sound before. My blood went cold. Something primal inside me wanted to run and hide.
Another wolf howled, off to the other side this time.
The men all around the campfire began backing up, readying their weapons and picking up burning sticks from the campfire.
“Easy men. Just some doggies out for a stroll. I don’t want no one runnin’ off half cocked!” Lanky Jack said.
“What if theys constable dogs?” Hoppy said, terror showing in his eyes. He had a long knife in one hand, held out in front of him. “What if they found us, boss? I can’t hang! I can’t!” Hoppy fled, running off into the dark forest.
“Get the fuck back here you idiot!” Lanky Jack screamed.
All heads snapped towards where Hoppy ran off to as screams reached us. Then they were cut short.
“Any other man thinks to flee, cut ‘em in half, Wally.” Jack said, his eyes trying to pierce the darkness beyond the campfire.
Winchester cocked the hammers on his carriage gun back and held it at the ready.
Then I realized I wasn’t being guarded anymore. I thought to flee into the woods, but I’d surely enjoy a fate to match Hoppy’s. And I didn’t even have a knife. If I were lucky the wolves wouldn’t play with me too much before going for my throat.
Instead, I quietly slunk back and crawled to hide under a wagon near the fire. I heard soft crunches of sticks slowly pad their way towards the fire.
Breaking through the edge of the forest, a massive gray wolf calmly walked towards the group of men. It’s muzzle was wet, slickened red with blood. All the men turned to face it, their weapons at the ready.
Winchester brought his gun up to his shoulder and leveled the barrel at the wolf. “Brr Brr Wrrf!” he said.
He didn’t say anything else. A massive wooden cudgel slammed into him from the side. Then I saw part of the arm that held it! My God, it belonged to no man of this earth! Thick as a tree limb and covered in hair thick as fur. He must stand nearly two men high!
Winchester went flying, crashing far off into the dark woods. One of the other men near the campfire picked up the rifle he’d dropped and spun to face the huge monster. He shot from the hip, the carriage gun spewing flame and lead in a wide arc.
The creature that dispatched Winchester was hit and flew backwards.
“Don’t tarry boys! Dispatch the bastard!” Jack said as his men moved to smash the downed beast with swords and hammers.
A scream from their rear froze them. The wolf everyone had forgotten had hamstrung another of their number, who was now crawling on hands and knees. A bandit near the wolf lifted an iron hammer and brought it down to smash the wolf’s skull in.
I’ve never been given cause to think my own eyes would lie to me, but I watched as this wolf changed into a man! The hammer landed between the now naked man’s feet. He struck out with a hand and crushed the bandit’s throat. He calmly walked past the dying man, his lithe muscled body seemingly untouched by the cold.
“Tis devil magic!” Lanky Jack said, “Flee, bastards, lest there is a righteous one amongst ye!”
With that, the bandits scattered like bugs beneath a stone. The man ran after them, and further off in the woods the sounds of screams came again and again.
I was frozen in place, not knowing what I’d seen. I began praying, beseeching the Lord to send an angel to protect me. I thought to flee off into the woods in the other direction, but I knew wolves would be able to track my scent.
Before I could make up my mind, I heard footsteps coming back to the fire. Two men walked up to the fire and squatted in front of it. One was the naked man who was the wolf. He was very tall, broad of shoulder and had a hard body that bespoke hard labor. He had scraggly gray hair held back by a ribbon. Squatting, his manhood hung low. Thick and long, it nearly stirred the leaves on the forest floor.
The other man carried a large club, etched with runes that seemed to glow blue. He was wearing a wool sash and kilt. His brown hair hung around his shoulders. He was wounded, blood dripping down his leg. I realized that he must be the one shot by the gun.
“I’m getting slower,” the brown haired one said with a grimace. His hand pressed against his side where the gun had wounded him.
“Aye, we all are,” the gray haired one replied. He reached over to pick up the gun where it lay. “But it’s just lead.”
“This time, Wynn. Won’ always be like that. Soon as word gets out, next time it’ll be silver,” the brown haired one said.
“No need to be so hangface all the time. This was a good hunt,” the gray haired one said, standing and stretching. His muscles rippled in the light from the dying campfire, and I could see a body lined with old scars.
“Ye sit round chattin’ like women,” a voice suddenly said from close beside me. “Might as well bring another knitter to the party,” he said as the wagon I was hidden under was lifted off me and went toppling end over end.
Looking down at me was another Scotsman, wearing the same pattern sash and kilt as the brown-haired man. His short blonde hair was parted down the middle, and his green eyes looked down on me like dinner. His one hand grabbed my arm and threw me towards the campfire. “Looks like they left their whore,”
“I’m no whore, you demons!” I spat back, standing up to face the three of them. I looked down at my filthy sodden undergarments, now little better than rags.
“I ne’er knew bandits to employ a scullery maid. Or perhaps you’re their wetnurse?” the brown-haired one asked.
“Be still, Doanald,” the one called Wynn said, “As you say, ma’am. As you say.”
“She hid well! Could have gotten the drop on the two of you,” the young blonde one said, puffing his chest a bit. He dropped a long length of fabric next to the campfire.
Wynn bent over and picked it up, wrapping it around himself to form his own sash and kilt to match his brethren. “Aye, Samwell, a foul scent amongst this group hid hers,” he said. “And we are not demons, milady.”
Dancing Bearback (BBW Shifter Cowboy Western Romance) (Bear Ranchers Book 3) Page 96
