by K. F. Breene
“Wanderer?” she tried.
A flash of understanding crossed his face before warning lit in his eyes. Anger lowered his brow then. This time when he pushed the food at her, it was hostile. “Take. Go.”
A surge of stubbornness accosted her. She was trying to fulfill her destiny, dang it. He was supposed to be the easy part.
She reached into her pants and drew out her small pouch. It jingled as she opened it and extracted one gold coin. She held it out. “The Wanderer is here. I need your help. I will pay for your silence.”
She really hoped money would buy cooperation. With those farmers, it seemed to have gone a long way.
The man’s eyes dipped to her hand. He stared for a moment before he shook his head in small jerks, frustration crossing his expression. “No, no. Go.” He looked at the food in his hands, then the gold, and finally the pouch, unsure of what to do. Obviously she could buy ten meals with just one gold coin, let alone what might be in the pouch. “No.”
“Please. Help. Here—”
A woman’s voice screeched out of the door, making the man glance backward. He shook his head again, indecision staying his feet. She could see the desire on his face, both for the gold and something else. She had to believe he didn’t like being ruled by the Graygual. He was just as trapped as she had been.
That gave her an idea. “The Wanderer, the Chosen, freed me. Saved me. I joined with her, with them, to help others. Let me help you.”
The voice screeched again. The man turned back to it, but didn’t commit. Not totally. He looked at Alena, his face troubled, before completing the turn and going back into the kitchen. He closed the door behind him.
“Dang it,” she swore. She dropped her hands and stood there for a second. There was nothing for it—she’d have to hold them prisoner. Or wait until everyone had gone home for the night and sneak in…
Patting her pouch, which held more than just coins, she mulled over how to get back into that kitchen. They had a bar that they probably secured the door with after they went home. That would prove troublesome. Maybe the front of the building had glass, though. Maybe she could get in and find something to poison.
As she reached the crates, pondering where she would go to wait, the door slid open again. She turned back in both hope and fear, ready to run. The man stopped in the middle of the alley with the same troubled face. Beside him stood a middle-aged man who seemed vaguely familiar.
“Hello?” the man said hesitantly, his accent thick.
“Hi!” Alena stepped forward, feeling the smile pull up from her toes. “You understand me?”
A grin tweaked his lips. “Westwood Lands? Yes. I traded often in my youth. With a surly Commander who’d just been promoted…”
“Commander Sanders, must be.”
“Did you have something you needed to translate?” he asked, his brow furrowing.
“Uh…yeah. Tell him that I’m with the Wanderer.” She waited while the man repeated it. “And that the Wanderer is here with an army.” She gave the basic gist, and then what she planned.
The man stared at her for a long beat. The cook prodded him eagerly. Finally, still watching Alena, the man spoke to the cook.
“You can really do as you say?” the man said softly after he was done.
“Yes! Please. Let me help you. Or you help me. It really amounts to the same thing. Help me free this city.”
The man shook his head as the cook bit his lip. Time flowed by, tensing Alena’s shoulders.
“It’s dangerous,” the man said in a hush. “We could all be killed—”
The cook interrupted him in crisp tones. The man sagged. “He said he’ll do it.”
20
Leilius’ eyes came open slowly. His head swam, and he felt drowsy and stupid. Something pulled at his wrists. He soon realized it was rope tying him to a post. No, not a post, part of a bed. Wiggling, he felt the soft bed beneath him, large enough for two sleepers. He was sprawled out in the middle, his ankles tied as tightly as his wrists.
Warning bled into him as one more realization dawned. Rising up, he stared down at his naked body. His manhood lay to the side, out for the world to see.
He yanked at his hands as the scene in the alleyway came flooding back. Women. Leather. Skin. Whips. Oh fuck.
He yanked harder, pulling up his knees. The rope dug into his skin.
A door opened at the end of the room. With it came a soft breeze that brought gooseflesh to his skin. A woman walked in covered in leather except for her arms, her breasts, and a hole at the top of her thighs. Leilius shivered for a couple reasons, and one of those was fear. An excited kind of fear, but fear nonetheless.
“Well, well, you’re awake.” The woman sauntered closer. Leilius tore his eyes away from her breasts, perky with pink buds of nipples, to what was in her hand. Unfortunately, the hand was by that other hole, and he’d never seen one of those before.
His chest grew tight and his mind swam with confusion. He was a prisoner, he was afraid, and yet there were things in this room he didn’t mind seeing at all.
His body was not confused—it was reacting.
“You like what you see, yes?” That inviting patch of skin was so close, standing right beside the bed. It glistened. Was it supposed to glisten? “My, my. Ready and eager. No wonder you came looking for us.”
He shook his head and tried to speak through a suddenly dry mouth. “Not looking. I swear. I wasn’t—”
A slap rang through the room. It took Leilius a moment to realize that it had to do with him, and another to feel the pain blossoming up from his stomach. “What—”
“Oooh, I like your native tongue. Speak more of that.”
Another slap. Pain blistered up through his ribs. Her breasts jiggled.
“Speak!” She whacked him again.
“You need to let me go. I have stuff to do. I don’t know that I want to go, but I really should. I think this is one of those gray areas between duty and pleasure. And pain. I’m not really sure— Ow!”
With a laugh, she bent down and took one of his nipples into her mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head. Ooooh my God, why do people not like this?
As if hearing his thoughts, she said, “You like this, don’t you?”
Or maybe she was just reading his body.
“I should go.” He shook his head. “I should go. I wasn’t trying to find you, honest. And you are a lovely woman. Really, very beautiful. But— Ow!”
The pain blossomed into other feelings that were starting to pound in extremely exposed parts of his body. “Maybe just a few minutes. I can stay for just a little while.”
She grabbed something off a nightstand and then clamped it onto his nipple. Leilius jolted in pain, and then couldn’t help an embarrassing moan. Another metal thing clamped on his other nipple, and he repeated the display again.
One of her knees indented the bed beside his hip. Her other knee swung over him and landed on the other side. That distinctly feminine area hovered above his distinctly masculine area. All he could feel was the pounding and the rushing in his ears.
“You’re a bad boy, aren’t you?” Her finger disappeared between her candy-red lips.
“Not…really.” His voice was way too high.
As that wet finger left her parted mouth, his heart clattered painfully against his ribcage.
“Yes, you are. You need to be punished.” The finger circled a little nub near her lady parts. She moaned and dropped her head back as her hips moved in a circle.
“Okay. Yes, okay.” He needed to remember that spot on a woman’s body, because she really liked it. That would probably serve him well in the future. If he could just get rid of the buzzing in his head, and think straight, remembering any of this would be so much easier.
She reached further down and dipped a digit into herself. Leilius’ throat issued a strange, strangled sound he had no control over. The sound got even weirder when that finger started to rub around his tip.
&
nbsp; “Oh, this is good. I am so glad we were near that door.” Her body lowered until his tip touched her warm wetness. “Oh God, this is happening. This is really happening. Oh thank God—”
The door burst open with a squeal of wood and hinges. The woman swung a leg away from him, turning in alarm at the sound.
“No!” Leilius shouted.
Xavier stood in the doorway, butt naked, with welts down his chest and blood dripping from a few tiny cuts. Eyes on fire, he held a knife in his hand and war in his bearing.
“Go away!” Leilius shouted, trying to motion with his tied hand. “I’m just fine. Come back in an hour.”
Xavier threw the knife as rage lit his expression. The woman shrieked, trying to lift a leather paddle to block the throw. She was too late. The blade stuck in her shoulder. She fell back with a cry and clutched at the wound.
Leilius jerked upward, straining against the binding. “No, Xavier! She wasn’t hurting me!”
Xavier glanced at him as he crossed the room to her. “You have welts all over and shit on your nipples. This bitch”—disgust mixed with the rage—“is messed up.” He yanked the knife out of her shoulder and grabbed her hair with his other hand. He moved to swipe the blade across her neck.
“No!” Leilius screamed, thrashing against the bonds. A loud crack had the bed breaking. He pushed at Xavier’s shoulder with his newly freed hand. “Xavier, no. Please. Just give us…”
Xavier paused, a look of incredulity on his face.
“Okay, sure, this isn’t the time…” Leilius quickly let himself out of his bounds. “I’ll go. Just leave her alone.”
Xavier noticed the soldier at attention, the only thing in the room sticking up. “You took the serum?”
“What serum? Listen—” Leilius spread out his hands, trying to indicate everyone should just take it easy. “I’ll get dressed, and we’ll head out. No biggie. I would’ve liked to…but I understand the press for time. It’s okay.”
Xavier was looking at Leilius like he was a strange and new kind of bug. He blinked twice and glanced again at Leilius’ wood, which was a little embarrassing, before leaning right down into the woman’s face. He put the tip of the knife next to her eye. “If I ever hear of you doing something like this again, or any of your sisters, as you call them, I will cut out your eye before I stick this knife in your heart. You got me?”
The woman gave a soggy nod, those plump red lips trembling. Leilius’ heart squished from seeing her in pain. He wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what. In the end he just opted for: “Sorry about him. He’s prone to violence.” It didn’t really seem like the right thing, but it was something. It was all he had, anyway. All his blood flow was still directed toward a very hard part of his body.
Leilius jogged out of the room behind Xavier, moving stiffly, the chain connecting the nipple clamps bumping against his chest.
He probably should’ve taken them off…
The room next to his had the door thrown wide with two dead women lying almost naked on the floor. The headboard of the bed was in tatters, with what looked like chain ripped through the wood. Rope lay at the base where it had been left, the other ends still wrapped around Xavier’s ankles.
“You got two?” Leilius asked in wonder. “And you wanted to get away?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Xavier demanded. He turned a corner and paused, waiting for an attack. The outer room was empty. “They probably went looking for more. Vile.” Xavier ran to a pile of garments in the corner. Theirs was on top. Xavier didn’t grab those. Instead, he sifted through and grabbed other items.
“What about our coin?” Leilius asked, hunched in the cold, wishing his body would calm down. Standing with another man while having a stiff member was embarrassing.
“Check over there.” Xavier pointed behind him to a long table. Strewn along the table were a few papers, a plate with crumbs, and a box. After investigating, Leilius found three of their pouches inside that box. The fourth, one that they’d brought in themselves instead of stealing, was missing.
“They didn’t go looking for more men—they went to spend our coin.” Leilius palmed the other pouches. “Good thing we robbed some, then.”
“Grab something to eat that we can take, and then we have to go. I hope we haven’t blown our duty.”
“Not like it was really our fault.” Leilius snagged some partially stale bread and a few pieces of jerky. That was all that was available.
“You could’ve fought a little harder,” Xavier said dryly. “And I get it, I was stunned a little too, but…” Leilius handed over a lump of bread as Xavier held out some clothes. “I’m taking the pants that fit. I’ll wear the threadbare shirt, and you can have this shirt and wear the patched-up pants. There aren’t any other clothes that will fit us.”
“I can wear the rags. I don’t care.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Xavier demanded again.
Leilius paused with a lump of bread in his cheek. “What?”
With an angry scowl, Xavier ripped the chain away from Leilius’ chest. The nipple clamps tore away, drawing a shock of pain, followed by a rush of agony. “Damn—oh, that hurts. That does not feel good when you do it. Holy—” Leilius cupped his throbbing chest.
Xavier gave him an odd look, but said nothing. They dressed in silence. Leilius got the distinct impression most people didn’t like a little pain with their pleasure. This was probably something he should keep quiet about.
He also wondered if Rohnan knew anything about it. That guy knew more about women and sex than anyone in the land. If he could talk to anyone, it would be him.
“C’mon,” Xavier said in a rough voice. “Let’s go before they come back. I wouldn’t want you to be mad at me for killing sexual torturers.”
Definitely something to keep quiet…
Xavier pulled open the door and peered outside. Twilight had fallen, tricking the eyes with half-light as shadows started blending into the night. Not a soul walked on the street, not even a Graygual.
“Must be a curfew,” Leilius whispered.
Xavier nodded before stooping and jogging out along the wall. Why he stooped was a mystery, since it made him stand out even more for the oddity of it, but Leilius followed silently, trying to get a clear look at the street and all possible hiding places. They quietly ran until they hit an alleyway, and stepped inside out of plain sight. Leilius ripped out his map and checked their location.
A thought occurred to him. He looked up. No one ever remembered to look up. “I have an idea.”
A hasty climb and a skinned knee later, they hoisted themselves onto the nearest rooftop. Shallowly pitched or completely flat, these roofs were perfect for getting around. With a last glance over the edge, he started jogging in the direction of the gate.
“I do not care for heights,” Xavier said behind him.
Leilius didn’t roll his eyes for fear of tripping and rolling off the edge, but he really wanted to. Instead, he kept moving until they reached a gap between buildings.
“Now what?” Xavier leaned forward, trying to see the street below.
“Well…we could jump…” Leilius gauged the distance to be eight feet. “Although…we might not make it.” He started moving along the edge until a small bridge of stone connected the buildings. It was one of the brick walls that had been erected to keep people from moving through the walkway. “How are you at walking in a straight line?”
“Shit. Isn’t there another way?”
“Yeah. The street. But that would be way worse than falling on your head in privacy, I bet. The Graygual aren’t as forgiving as the street.”
“Fine. Go.”
Leilius turned and crouched down to his hands and knees. He crawled backward down the slope and then dangled over the edge until his swinging toe touched brick. Lowering himself from the edge, he waited until he had his balance before letting go. The chilled breeze licked his outstretched fingers. The darkness mostly maske
d the small area to step.
“This should be interesting.” Hoping for the best, not daring to look down, Leilius quickly crossed the top of the brick wall. Only once did his foot hit the corner, making him swing his arms dramatically to keep balance. At the far side, he let out a sigh of relief before looking back for Xavier.
The larger man had his arms stretched out to the sides. Every once in a while his head would turn just a bit, indicating he glanced at the ground. His arms would dip to one side, or windmill, as his body swayed.
“Don’t look down!” Leilius said in a stage whisper. “It’s throwing you off balance.”
Xavier stilled, and then edged himself along, too slow for comfort. Leilius opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. He was making it. Slowly, but surely, he crossed the narrow bridge, until finally, Xavier braced a hand on Leilius’ shoulder and issued the same sigh Leilius had.
“Did it. Okay.” Leilius looked up at the ledge. “This is going to be tricky. Give me a boost.”
Stepping on Xavier’s threaded hands, Leilius hoisted himself up, then scrabbled at the straight edge of the building, not finding much purchase. With his fingers digging into the roof tiles, he finally clawed himself to the top. He then sat and dangled his legs over.
“What are you doing?” Xavier whispered up.
“Use my feet like a rope. I don’t know how else to do it.”
“I’ll jump. Grab my shirt and help me get up.”
“That might be a terrible idea,” Leilius muttered before glancing down at the dark ground far below. Stepping aside and mentally preparing for this friend to slide down the side and break something, he readied himself with legs bent and hands out. Xavier’s head bobbed up a moment later. His big hands slapped the roof as he tried to find purchase, but almost immediately he started slipping.
“Crap,” Leilius grunted, grabbing his shirt and straining everything in his body to keep Xavier from sliding. His feet slipped again and Xavier started to slide again, and this time, Leilius was going with him. “Do something!”
