Warning! Rated PG-13 for adult situations (and don't worry "MOM" everybody
keeps their clothes on).
And as for my friends who have already read this, please reread it. I added A LOT!
Chapter one: Amyla
A New Life
She was hungry and tired. The bonds on her hands had cut deep into her wrists, and blood caked the back of her royal blue dress. The men who had ambushed her clan and left all but her dead, had not stopped all day, and had neglected to feed her since the day before. 'Is there no one in a league with mercy?' she pled to whatever god would hear her.
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Finally, long after nightfall, they stopped in a clearing in the Old Forest, which they had been marching through for the last three days. It was a strange part of the forest she'd never been to, and she couldn't believe how lost and alone she felt. The leader of the group ordered tents to be put up, and fires to be built.
"What of the girl, my Lord?" one of the men asked as he pointed and looked hungrily at her. She twitched at the thought of what must be going through his mind.
"She is NOT to be touched. Leave her where she is. Build a fire by her so she won't freeze in the night." She was thoroughly relieved with the leader's reply, and even more so at the ringing authority in his voice that would make his men beg him to obey. The men, however, weren't so thrilled with the decision and began to sulk away once their prospect of having a bed warmer that night was shot down.
"My Lord, how do we keep her from running off?" said another man in one last feeble attempt to get their point across that they wanted to have some fun with her.
"Steak her bonds to the ground if you wish, but I will be watching her," he said firmly, guessing the man's secret meaning of his question. She silently thanked the gods for hearing her. "Oh, and bring us some food. She must be hungry..." he trailed off, catching her eye and looking deep inside her. It scared her that he could see so far into her, but she was proud and let his break the contact first.
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Soon some men came with food and wood for a fire, and an extra steak from the tents to pin her chained hands to the ground, though just loose enough that she could lift her arms above her stomach when she sat down. The leader sat just out of reach with a pot of stew and some bread in his lap, and an empty bowl at his feet. He threw her a piece of bread, which she caught and ate quickly, due to her extreme hunger. As proud as she was, she wouldn't let her pride make her starve. She was still hungry and was about to ask for more, but he spoke just as she looked up to ask him. "Famished are we? I'll make you a deal." She was going to say that she didn't make deals with murderers, but she was in no position to get on his bad side. He picked up the bowl when she remained silent, and came closer. She took her first good look at him, and noticed that he was much younger than his men, which was an oddity in itself, but he was also much more hansom. 'But,' she reminded herself, 'he killed my people. That makes him my enemy.' "One spoonful of stew," he continued, ignoring that her initial look of surprise she had given him had just turned to a glare, and poured some stew into the crude bowl, using an old and worn wooden ladle, "For one honest answer to each of my questions." 'He's smart; I'll give him that,' she thought as she mentally cursed him for being smart enough to bribe her with food after starving her for two days.
"I would shake on it, but my hands have been bound," she said bitterly.
He grinned and stood up. "What is your name, my lady?" he asked in an obviously fake sweet toned voice. He was mocking her, giving her a false bit of courtesy after she insulted him. It was all she could do to stay her anger.
"Amyla, daughter of Doin," she said through gritted teeth. She was extremely upset that he was able to manipulate her like this.
"Well, Amyla," he said in the same sing song voice as he poured another spoonful into the bowl, "Do you know why you are here?"
"Because you dragged me here." Her fury was welling up inside her, but at least she was getting stew for it.
"Let me rephrase that, do you know why we did not kill you with the rest of your people?"
"No." Another spoonful.
"Do you know what town we are near?"
"I never strayed from my clan before you slaughtered them. Besides, we don't keep maps, and we have never ventured into an actual town." His smile started to fade at her accusing words, but he added another helping of stew anyways.
"One last question, then you may eat," he said as he crouched down to her level. "Are you a virgin?"
Her blood ran chill at the question, and panicked thoughts ran through her head. She didn't know why he was asking, and it was scaring her to think of the reasons. Her face must have betrayed her thoughts because the man's grin slid back into place. She hesitated before whispering the answer. "Yes." She cursed him again for being so manipulative.
"Eat," he said as he placed the bowl in front of her before standing up and walking away to a near by tent. She had lost her appetite and fell asleep, her food untouched.
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She was awakened by the leader who, seeing she had not eaten, heated the stew and handed it to her once she sat up.
"Diola lle," thank youshe said before she realized she had slipped into elvish. "I mean-"
But he put his hand to her mouth to silence her. "Ta nae amin saesa," it was my pleasure he said and smiled. 'How can he be so kind and so evil at the same time?' she thought. "We will be leaving soon, so eat now. This will be your last meal with us." He turned on his heal and left her thoroughly confused as she began eating her stew.
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The sun was high when they arrived at a town. 'This must have been the town he meant,' Amyla thought as they pushed her through the wooden gate surrounding the town. The old gatekeeper was talking to the leader as if they were old friends meeting after one had been gone away for a while. The grisly man gave her a toothy smile, despite the fact that he was missing quite a few. As she went by, she heard him say to the leader, "So she's the one you chose? Good choice, mate. She bound to ring in ohhh...." But his voice became drowned in the chaotic chatter and bustle of the townspeople and new comers. She was steered through the throng of the town, and was about to ask where they planned to take her, when she felt something hard hit her in the back of the head. "Nighty, night," was the last thing she heard as she blacked out beneath a swinging sign with a horse on it.
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She woke to a loud cry "What is that noise?" she quietly asked herself. When she had finally opened her eyes, she realized she was being carried to what looked like an oversized box. The next thing she knew, she was being placed upon it. She then stood up and noticed that the leader was next to her, and a noisy crowd before her, but he spread his arms for silence from the people. When all was finally quiet, which was almost instantaneously, he shouted, "People of Bree, I bring to you a fair maiden, the daughter of the royal Doin of the Whitetree Clan! Any of you may be the first man to know this graceful virgin, if and only if, you bid the highest price! Who will have her?!" she stomach dropped and she thought she would be sick with panic. 'He's selling me! The arse is selling me as a slave!' her mind screamed and she turned around to jump off the stage and take off running. She made it about five feet before the other men grabbed her by the arms and dragged her back. Two of them had to join the leader on the stage to hold her in place, and she wouldn't stop thrashing until she felt a blade at her back. He leader tried to laugh off the hasty escape, and said, "Nice and feisty, isn't she?" making the crowd laugh with him and nod in agreement. She glared at him, again cursing him for his manipulative ways.
The bidding started and her head wheeled with horror at what was happening. She frantically searched the crowd for a way out, or at the least, a man she wouldn't mind being sold to, even though she shuddered at the thought. The numbers continued to climb, and so did her fear. She finally singled out a pair of eyes belonging to a man in a black cloak. They were kind, and a fire burned in them, though it wasn't a flame of desire, but one of compassion. She let her eyes plead with his, until he bowed his head, and her heart sunk. She was about to search out another pair of eyes, but the man shouted and held up a small sack of what she assumed to be his means of pay. She gazed at him with utter relief, then looked to the leader, who still had a hand in mid air, and hope filled her heart. He slowly lowered it as the crowd went silent, and all heads turned towards the man amongst them. He started walking forward as if he knew he had already won the bidding, and the leader, as well as the townspeople, seemed to agree. Murmurs softly began to sound through the town, all of them whispering the same thing. Strider.
The men holding her in place yanked her off the stage and onto the ground. The blade that was still at her back licked her skin, barely cutting it, but it showed what a clumsy oaf its barer was. She glared at him and he laughed. They led her off to a building and she recognized the sign above it. It was the one she'd seen before she had been knocked out. It read 'The Prancing Pony' around the saddled horse. She was led through the door, and was met by the strong odor of ale, smoke and sweat. It was much hotter inside, due to the amount of men inside, half of whom looked drunk, the others looking high. "What is this place?" Amyla asked in disgust as she was led to the center of the chaotic room.
"Welcome!" said a merry man behind the counter in front of them, "Welcome! To the inn of the Prancing Pony! How may I help you? If you're looking for accommodation we've some nice rooms available-"
"We're not looking for a room to stay in," said the man on her right. "We're looking for the Strider's room. He won the bidding this evening, and we are here to take his prize to his...accommodations."
"Oh! Right, right. Yes, well, he is in the first room up those stairs to your left. Here's a key. Just be sure to return it once she's inside."
Amyla glared at the innkeeper as he handed the men a key. "You trust far to easily, boy. I hope you learn from it one day."
"Boy? Now look here young lady! I'm old enough to be your grandfather! Boy indeed!"
"Heh," she laughed sarcastically, "Few walk this earth who are old enough to carry that title."
"That's enough, wench. I don't have time to stand around while you argue with a drunken innkeeper. Let's go," said the man to her left as he roughly pulled her up the stairs after him.
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And as for my friends who have already read this, please reread it. I added A LOT!
Chapter one: Amyla
A New Life
She was hungry and tired. The bonds on her hands had cut deep into her wrists, and blood caked the back of her royal blue dress. The men who had ambushed her clan and left all but her dead, had not stopped all day, and had neglected to feed her since the day before. 'Is there no one in a league with mercy?' she pled to whatever god would hear her.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Finally, long after nightfall, they stopped in a clearing in the Old Forest, which they had been marching through for the last three days. It was a strange part of the forest she'd never been to, and she couldn't believe how lost and alone she felt. The leader of the group ordered tents to be put up, and fires to be built.
"What of the girl, my Lord?" one of the men asked as he pointed and looked hungrily at her. She twitched at the thought of what must be going through his mind.
"She is NOT to be touched. Leave her where she is. Build a fire by her so she won't freeze in the night." She was thoroughly relieved with the leader's reply, and even more so at the ringing authority in his voice that would make his men beg him to obey. The men, however, weren't so thrilled with the decision and began to sulk away once their prospect of having a bed warmer that night was shot down.
"My Lord, how do we keep her from running off?" said another man in one last feeble attempt to get their point across that they wanted to have some fun with her.
"Steak her bonds to the ground if you wish, but I will be watching her," he said firmly, guessing the man's secret meaning of his question. She silently thanked the gods for hearing her. "Oh, and bring us some food. She must be hungry..." he trailed off, catching her eye and looking deep inside her. It scared her that he could see so far into her, but she was proud and let his break the contact first.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Soon some men came with food and wood for a fire, and an extra steak from the tents to pin her chained hands to the ground, though just loose enough that she could lift her arms above her stomach when she sat down. The leader sat just out of reach with a pot of stew and some bread in his lap, and an empty bowl at his feet. He threw her a piece of bread, which she caught and ate quickly, due to her extreme hunger. As proud as she was, she wouldn't let her pride make her starve. She was still hungry and was about to ask for more, but he spoke just as she looked up to ask him. "Famished are we? I'll make you a deal." She was going to say that she didn't make deals with murderers, but she was in no position to get on his bad side. He picked up the bowl when she remained silent, and came closer. She took her first good look at him, and noticed that he was much younger than his men, which was an oddity in itself, but he was also much more hansom. 'But,' she reminded herself, 'he killed my people. That makes him my enemy.' "One spoonful of stew," he continued, ignoring that her initial look of surprise she had given him had just turned to a glare, and poured some stew into the crude bowl, using an old and worn wooden ladle, "For one honest answer to each of my questions." 'He's smart; I'll give him that,' she thought as she mentally cursed him for being smart enough to bribe her with food after starving her for two days.
"I would shake on it, but my hands have been bound," she said bitterly.
He grinned and stood up. "What is your name, my lady?" he asked in an obviously fake sweet toned voice. He was mocking her, giving her a false bit of courtesy after she insulted him. It was all she could do to stay her anger.
"Amyla, daughter of Doin," she said through gritted teeth. She was extremely upset that he was able to manipulate her like this.
"Well, Amyla," he said in the same sing song voice as he poured another spoonful into the bowl, "Do you know why you are here?"
"Because you dragged me here." Her fury was welling up inside her, but at least she was getting stew for it.
"Let me rephrase that, do you know why we did not kill you with the rest of your people?"
"No." Another spoonful.
"Do you know what town we are near?"
"I never strayed from my clan before you slaughtered them. Besides, we don't keep maps, and we have never ventured into an actual town." His smile started to fade at her accusing words, but he added another helping of stew anyways.
"One last question, then you may eat," he said as he crouched down to her level. "Are you a virgin?"
Her blood ran chill at the question, and panicked thoughts ran through her head. She didn't know why he was asking, and it was scaring her to think of the reasons. Her face must have betrayed her thoughts because the man's grin slid back into place. She hesitated before whispering the answer. "Yes." She cursed him again for being so manipulative.
"Eat," he said as he placed the bowl in front of her before standing up and walking away to a near by tent. She had lost her appetite and fell asleep, her food untouched.
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She was awakened by the leader who, seeing she had not eaten, heated the stew and handed it to her once she sat up.
"Diola lle," thank youshe said before she realized she had slipped into elvish. "I mean-"
But he put his hand to her mouth to silence her. "Ta nae amin saesa," it was my pleasure he said and smiled. 'How can he be so kind and so evil at the same time?' she thought. "We will be leaving soon, so eat now. This will be your last meal with us." He turned on his heal and left her thoroughly confused as she began eating her stew.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::
The sun was high when they arrived at a town. 'This must have been the town he meant,' Amyla thought as they pushed her through the wooden gate surrounding the town. The old gatekeeper was talking to the leader as if they were old friends meeting after one had been gone away for a while. The grisly man gave her a toothy smile, despite the fact that he was missing quite a few. As she went by, she heard him say to the leader, "So she's the one you chose? Good choice, mate. She bound to ring in ohhh...." But his voice became drowned in the chaotic chatter and bustle of the townspeople and new comers. She was steered through the throng of the town, and was about to ask where they planned to take her, when she felt something hard hit her in the back of the head. "Nighty, night," was the last thing she heard as she blacked out beneath a swinging sign with a horse on it.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::
She woke to a loud cry "What is that noise?" she quietly asked herself. When she had finally opened her eyes, she realized she was being carried to what looked like an oversized box. The next thing she knew, she was being placed upon it. She then stood up and noticed that the leader was next to her, and a noisy crowd before her, but he spread his arms for silence from the people. When all was finally quiet, which was almost instantaneously, he shouted, "People of Bree, I bring to you a fair maiden, the daughter of the royal Doin of the Whitetree Clan! Any of you may be the first man to know this graceful virgin, if and only if, you bid the highest price! Who will have her?!" she stomach dropped and she thought she would be sick with panic. 'He's selling me! The arse is selling me as a slave!' her mind screamed and she turned around to jump off the stage and take off running. She made it about five feet before the other men grabbed her by the arms and dragged her back. Two of them had to join the leader on the stage to hold her in place, and she wouldn't stop thrashing until she felt a blade at her back. He leader tried to laugh off the hasty escape, and said, "Nice and feisty, isn't she?" making the crowd laugh with him and nod in agreement. She glared at him, again cursing him for his manipulative ways.
The bidding started and her head wheeled with horror at what was happening. She frantically searched the crowd for a way out, or at the least, a man she wouldn't mind being sold to, even though she shuddered at the thought. The numbers continued to climb, and so did her fear. She finally singled out a pair of eyes belonging to a man in a black cloak. They were kind, and a fire burned in them, though it wasn't a flame of desire, but one of compassion. She let her eyes plead with his, until he bowed his head, and her heart sunk. She was about to search out another pair of eyes, but the man shouted and held up a small sack of what she assumed to be his means of pay. She gazed at him with utter relief, then looked to the leader, who still had a hand in mid air, and hope filled her heart. He slowly lowered it as the crowd went silent, and all heads turned towards the man amongst them. He started walking forward as if he knew he had already won the bidding, and the leader, as well as the townspeople, seemed to agree. Murmurs softly began to sound through the town, all of them whispering the same thing. Strider.
The men holding her in place yanked her off the stage and onto the ground. The blade that was still at her back licked her skin, barely cutting it, but it showed what a clumsy oaf its barer was. She glared at him and he laughed. They led her off to a building and she recognized the sign above it. It was the one she'd seen before she had been knocked out. It read 'The Prancing Pony' around the saddled horse. She was led through the door, and was met by the strong odor of ale, smoke and sweat. It was much hotter inside, due to the amount of men inside, half of whom looked drunk, the others looking high. "What is this place?" Amyla asked in disgust as she was led to the center of the chaotic room.
"Welcome!" said a merry man behind the counter in front of them, "Welcome! To the inn of the Prancing Pony! How may I help you? If you're looking for accommodation we've some nice rooms available-"
"We're not looking for a room to stay in," said the man on her right. "We're looking for the Strider's room. He won the bidding this evening, and we are here to take his prize to his...accommodations."
"Oh! Right, right. Yes, well, he is in the first room up those stairs to your left. Here's a key. Just be sure to return it once she's inside."
Amyla glared at the innkeeper as he handed the men a key. "You trust far to easily, boy. I hope you learn from it one day."
"Boy? Now look here young lady! I'm old enough to be your grandfather! Boy indeed!"
"Heh," she laughed sarcastically, "Few walk this earth who are old enough to carry that title."
"That's enough, wench. I don't have time to stand around while you argue with a drunken innkeeper. Let's go," said the man to her left as he roughly pulled her up the stairs after him.
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