The strange man walked like soone who had never needed to check if he was being followed.
I thought about running.
Not yet.
The cave ended, eventually, in a way I hadn’t expected, the rock giving way to open air and the open air being entirely different from the open air I had started the day in. This place was colder. Greener, in the dense way of sowhere that didn’t get much light. The trees here were different. They were older, closer together, the canopy above them doing sothing abnormal to the sky, making it smaller and more contained.
I had been down here long enough for the light to be going.
I pressed my lips together and kept walking.
I kept looking around, noting the direction we had co from, the direction we were going, the landmarks I could identify in the dimming light.
The forest opened, and a clearing appeared in front. Huts and straw houses, arranged like a community that had been here long enough to develop habits. Torches burning at intervals, the fla of each one catching the growing dark and pushing it back a few feet.
I looked straight ahead and kept walking.
The man stopped.
He stepped aside and looked at .
I hesitated a bit before entering.
The man ca in behind .
I turned.
He looked at with the expression of a man who did not repeat himself as a matter of principle.
Sothing moved in his expression.
"A virgin," he said.
"That makes it better," he said. "Climb on the bed. I’ll make it easier, or I tell you one more ti and I make it harder."
I sat on the edge.
He didn’t hear it.
He ca forward and his hands were on my clothing and I was shaking so hard I could feel it in my jaw, and I kept praying - not out loud anymore, inward, directed sowhere I hoped was still listening - please. Please. Soone. Please.
The inner garnt - a thin cloth that concealed almost nothing - was the last thing between and the answer to the prayer not being answered. I pressed my hands together over my chest and looked at him with everything I had - every piece of hope, every piece of terror, everything...
I was shaking.
He began to remove his own clothing.
"Lord Raul."
"My lord, we’ve been waiting for your return - we have sothing for you..."
"My lord." A pause. "We have your worst enemy. Right here, outside your door."
Then he almost smiled - not a warm thing, a cold harsh smile. "The only enemy worth that description is Terrell of Black Wolf," he said. "And since that’s impossible..."
"...you’ll wait until I’m finished."
The sound of sothing - soone - being moved against their will. The sound of boots on ground, of a struggle with an end already determined, of n who had the numbers and were using them.
A figure was thrown through it.
Terrell.
But his eyes...
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