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The roguish smile Devon gave me was the same he’d given me in the bar earlier.
***
It was now evening. The sun had set and the men who had captured us were seated around their campfire.
As far as I could ascertain, they were mercenaries, and while I hadn’t heard them say anything specific, I could assume they were taking us to Latran or Gaunt. Looking at the stars and roughly gauging our direction, I guessed Latran. The blonde man, who had now tied his long hair back into a tail that gave him a distinctly horsey look, seemed to be the leader, though there was not what you would call a ‘command hierarchy’ amongst the group. They were your basic rabble, undisciplined and brutish. And right now, Uther and I were the center of their attention.
“What’s worth so much about them, eh?” asked one man.
“I know what’s worth so much about this one.” The man called Vorst slid the blade of his unsheathed sword up and down my leg and I shuddered.
Vorst grinned. “Don’t be scared girlie. I’ll be gentle.”
“No, no, no.” Another man shook his head. “A girl like that don’t want it gentle. I bet she’s a wildcat. A vixen.”
“More like a wolf bitch,” judged Vorst, his sword blade edging higher, pushing between my thighs.
Another man knelt forward, treating me to a blast of his breath that could have wilted flowers. “Let’s see what she’s got. It’s a warm night, we’ll have that jacket off her.”
A little glimmer of hope presented itself—they’d have to untie my hands to take my jacket off. I wasn’t sure what I would do, but if I had my hands, then I could dosomething.
But that glimmer was quickly extinguished as the man produced a knife and began to saw through my jacket. I glanced across at Uther, glad they weren’t targeting him but concerned he might be traumatized by what was happening. In fact, he’d gone to sleep. It was hard to tell how much he understood. Since we’d been taken prisoner, he seemed to have shut down even more, as if his brain was defending itself by refusing to even take in what was happening.
Two more men grabbed at my jacket, tugging hard so it tore where the knife had cut and a cheer went up as the garment split and was tossed aside, leaving me in the hard-wearing blouse I had on underneath.
“Fine figure of a girl.”
“Could do with a bath.”
“I’ll give her one!”
“She’ll scrub up well.”
“I prefer something with a bit more curves.”
I clenched my jaw and tried to focus inwardly on the ball of hatred building inside me, as the men groped, squeezed, and pinched at me.
“Hey, don’t damage the merchandise,” objected the blonde leader.
“Lighten up, Buck.”
The men ignored their commander who shrugged and sat back to watch—he’d done his best.
Vorst now took his turn. Just his gaze on me felt worse than all the other men’s hands. For the others, it was all just a bit of fun (to them), but in Vorst’s eyes there was something nastier and more dangerous, something that said this could go anywhere, and who knew where it would end. I recoiled from his touch and he grinned.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”
“Sit your ass back down, Vorst.”
Everyone, including me, looked up to see Devon strolling back into the camp with the carcass of a deer over his shoulder.
“Leave the girl alone and stick to your own species in the future. Whatever species that is.” He dropped the deer. “Someone get that on a spit.”
“You don’t give me orders!” snarled Vorst. “I’ll do whatever I please with her.”
Devon raised his eyebrows. “You and the deer want some alone time? I don’t judge, but I don’t think any of us’ll want to eat it after that.”
The camp laughed and Vorst’s face got angrier.
