I know, I posted it earlier. I finished before the deadline, and I just couldn't wait till Saturday, so here it is! Technically, this isn't the third chapter, its more of a short interlude. Just a little switch of perspective. And in case you're wondering, I finally got the censor cleared, up. This series is now rated PG, possibly pg-13 in the next few series, most likely not R. So, hope you enjoy, and in case any of you are wondering, my stories will be updated everyweek, Saturday or Sunday, and if I happen to come down with a very bad case of writer's block, 2-3 weeks. Just a warning. Anyway, just for your info, now, the story! @^Y^@
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Forever Branded
Chapter Interlude
Copyright Hippoclymae
- This document and its contents may not be reproduced in anyway without the author's permission, any such infraction will be immediately reported to the site's administration.
- I do not own Sakura, Syaoran, or Eriol, merely the surroundings in which they are placed. Thank you.
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Marcka's fingers drummed the arm of his huge golden throne. Normally, he'd have the days tasks out of mind, and be enjoying more pleasurable things, but he just wasn't in the mood. He was a lean boy, barely out of his teens, 19 at most. His locks of brown were untidy, as he'd ordered his hairdressers to leave him. In fact, the entire throne room was devoid of all, except for his royal advisor, Cecil. Cecil was a frail old man, who'd seen to the young Prince Marcka's care. He'd been and still was, the most loyal of all the servants. His glasses constantly sliding down his nose, he carefully approached his Lord and Master, the Prince encompassed by his infamous temper. When the advisor spoke, it was in a high, squeaky way.

" M-m-master...." The Prince's head turned venomously on the intrusion, only to soften at the sight of his counselor and caretaker. He remained quiet, waiting for the man to finish, " What seems to be troubling you?"

Marcka sighed in frustration," Nothing. It's just those menial peasants. Like the two that were in this morning."
" Who?"
" Sakura and that boy Showron, Shotpun, or something..."
" Oh, yes." Cecil shook his head," Most disagreeable bunch I've seen in years."
" Never," Marcka continued," have I seen such a two as them; so impertinent."
" Oh, yes." Cecil agreed," Had I raised them, they would have turned out as angelic as you."
" Yes.." Marcka grinned at Cecil's compliment, then frowned," especially that Sakura."
" Such a spoiled little girl. Had I been her mentor, she would have received quite a beating," Cecil demonstrated with a half-hearted whipping motion.
" She makes me so angry!!!!" Marcka pounded his fist, startling Cecil. Suddenly, his face changed from grim to dreamy." And yet, she empassions me..."
" How so, sir?"
" Her rebellious nature, her stance...it angers me to see such impudence, and yet, I feel that if I could win her affections those 'qualities' would satisfy many a lustful night."
" Oh, I don't think its wise to make marriage agreements, with such low-lifes..."
" NEVER!!! QUESTION your master's words. What I want, I always get!"
" At once, sir!!!" Cecil rushed to fulfill the orders, but Marcka stopped him.
" But, Cecil, in this case, you are of course, correct."

Seeing the look of ignorance frustrated Marcka.

" If I were seen with a slave, my reputation would be most, unbecomingly low...however, if she and her pig-headed little friend return successful...I could easily take her as my mistress, and all would believe I wedded her for the fame..."
" I see, sir." Cecil didn't want to admit that he didn't understand.
" But, I can't wait that long, my body yearns for her NOW!" He seethed. " And there's no chance that they could survive such a dastardly journey...so, I must take matters into my own hands."

Marcka turned with a swish of his cloak, and stormed away from the throne room, Cecil lagging behind him. As he left, he bellowed.

" Praetus!" The Head of the Guard appeared out of no where. He was built like an ox, but sly as a panther. His voice was the complete opposite of Cecil's, a deep baritone.

" Your majesty summoned?"
" Gather a dozen of your finest men." Marcka's eyes narrowed as he grinned," I have an important job for you. Tell them to meet me in the War Room. In the mean time...its time for a little rearranging."

******

Syaoran sat in his far corner of the cell, bitter tears streaking down his face. But, no sound did he emit, as pride still held him. He looked towards the opposite end, where Sakura sat, head bowed low. She too mourned, but not in the same way that he did. Eriol had been his best friend, the two having been together in more then enough adventures. Ever since they were small children, Syaoran and Eriol had been almost everywhere together. Until about 3 years ago where they were locked away into this prison, for false accusations. Syaoran smiled sadly as he remembered their last goal: to escape together and continue their expeditions. Now, they, or he, would never have that chance.

" I will avenge you, Eriol. It was I who should have died, not you. Or perhaps, maybe both of us should have gone together..." Syaoran sighed, and feeling like a foolish young child, he wiped away the sticky streams.
[Syaoran....] Syaoran started at his name...who'd said that?
[Syaoran....] Fear made goosebumps form, and he shivered....
[Syaoran....] Syaoran turned around and around, but all he saw was Sakura.
[Syaoran....] Syaoran stared around some more, but there was no one, nothing.
" Hello?" Sakura got up hearing Syaoran calling, but there was no other answer.

Syaoran shrugged it off, and to take his mind off of Eriol's death, he moved towards Sakura to see how she was doing. Carefully, he tapped her on the shoulder, and watched her turn. He'd never actually taken a good honest look at her, and he gasped. In the moonlight, her hair was a beautiful copper with silver highlights, and her eyes glittered. He could almost imagine how pretty she'd look in the light. Perhaps when they got out, the first thing he'd do was to give her a once over. His imaginings were interrupted by the huge ugly scar on her neck. She noticed his face, and turned her face away, ashamed at the blemish.
Syaoran realized his mistake, and reached gently for her chin.

" Don't worry, Sakura. Nothing will stop me from keeping you safe. Nothing." He held her eyes with his, to see that she understood his sincerity, before they separated. Suddenly, a blinding light drowned the cell. A figure stood in the doorway.

" You two! The Prince commands that you move into the parlours. You are to be treated as guests before your journey." The guard pointed the spear, and herded them out. They passed along corridor, after corridor, until they came to one in particular.

" This will be your lodgings." Syaoran was about to protest, but the guard gave him a look that said ' no one messes with the Prince's orders, not while I'm around.'
" Thanks." Syaoran muttered.

The guard left them, and immediately a group of slave-girls swarmed at Syaoran.

" Well, look what the Evil-one has dropped in our lair. Could it be a plaything?" They giggled, and Syaoran laughed nervously. Normally, he wouldn't be worried, but there were so many of them.
" Seeing as that Marcka left no instructions, what do you say we have a little fun?" The group giggled crazily.
" I get firsts!"
" Alright, but only for an hour!"
" That's not fair! You bedded the last two!"
" So? I get first dibbs!"
" Na-uh. Its my turn you mangy tart!"
" Girls, girls! No need to argue! He's young, an a virgin too, you'll all get a chance."

Syaoran was swarmed, and almost suffocated, when suddenly, there was a scream, and every concubine and mistress backed away, forming a loose circle around Syaoran. He looked up from his view from the floor, and saw only a pair of legs, getting up, he realized that it was the back of Sakura he was looking at. She'd grabbed a wine vase and was holding it menacingly at the slave girls, threatening any who so much as moved. The others looked at her with distaste.

" Who is this little wench?"
" Yeah, who does she think she is,"
" Well, if she's one of the new mistresses, I'd say she was badly chosen."
" Oh, look, at that horrid thing on her throat, must be a prisoner...and those clothes!"
" Well, if she is new around her, she doesn't get HIM!"
" Your right!"

Syaoran was ignored while the rest circled Sakura, eyes searching her greedily for anything of value. Her rage turned to terror, and in her apprehension she dropped the vase. The other girls threw it aside, and immediately, hands reached forward and pinched at anything they could reach; hands ripping at her hair. She tried to stay upright, but the group was too much, and she was overwhelmed. Syaoran shook his head clear, and rushed to her aid. He pushed his way rudely through. As he neared the center, he moved more quickly. Sakura, restrained by two other slave girls, gazed at the slave girl above her. She held the vase which had minutes before been in her possession, and raised it high, as if to bring it down upon her skull. Several other girls restrained Syaoran.

" Sakura!" He screamed helplessly. She tried to struggle free.

Eyes automatically squeezed shut as she waited for the blow, and she gasped as she heard the pottery shatter. But, it wasn't her head that broke it. Where once was a weapon, now was a girl gazing at her bloody hands in shock. Shards of pottery sliced her palms, and she ran weeping out of sight. Syaoran, who'd turned his eyes away, not willing to see his protectee be slaughtered, turned, and saw a woman of about 25 standing amidst the crowd.

" Leave them be, wenchlings!" The others sneered at her, and began to protest." SILENCE! These strangers are under my protection. You have your master. Now go!"

None moved. The woman brandished a staff of gold, and wasn't afraid to use it. She swung it out at them, causing them to scream and flee in terror.

" Such stupid little things. Brothel girls, nothing more. All lust and no brains." She helped Sakura to her feet, and walked up to Syaoran.
" So, you're the scrawny runt those tarts were jabbering about. Such desperate motives to pick one such as yourself."

She motioned for them to follow, and led them into another, quieter, corner of the room, furnished with many silken veils. Pillows were scattered across the floor, and Sakura sat down upon one, only to receive a severe reprimand from the woman.

" tsk, tsk." She clucked disapprovingly," Before the introductions, why don't you two make yourself more presentable?"

Syaoran's turned in the direction she pointed. Sakura got up, and went in the door. Syaoran dreaded the sight that would possibly meet his poor virgin eyes, but found to his relief, a series of elaborate stalls, a bath tub and reflective mirror in each. They each took their own separate stalls, and Syaoran couldn't help, but gulp as he heard fabric hit the floor. He too stripped down, and slipped into the water, overcome with exhaustion.
******
Sakura relaxed for a minute as she enjoyed the feeling of a bath once again. Carefully she washed herself with the oils, sighing silently at the rare chance to pamper herself. Dunking herself several times, she grimaced at how murky the water had become, and slipped under one more time before reaching for a drying cloth. She reached and tugged for it, only to find that it wouldn't free itself. She tugged some more, seeing that she wouldn't be getting that one, grabbed another one, and finally looked up to see what the problem was. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened as if to scream. Instead all that came out was a frantic pant, as she scrambled out of the water.
******
Syaoran heard the sound of urgent splashing, and donned a pair of trousers. He opened the door, and walked hurriedly to Sakura's stall. Before he could even knock, she rushed out, towel around her, right smack into his chest. He stared at her, realized her current attire, and felt a flush work up his cheeks.

" What's wrong, Sakura?"

Her breathing was ragged, and her face an unusual white, as she backed away from the stall door. Syaoran opened the door slightly, and looked in - a curdled yell escaped his lips. In the corner, there was a skeletal figure, face twisted in a scream of fear. The skin still hung to it, and it was naked, as Sakura'd ripped its towel off by mistake. It lay nearby, a bloody stained rag, the white of its fabric yellowed. Syaoran contained himself, and closed the door behind him. Sakura shivered, and as Syaoran exited, she grabbed him around the waist. He was shocked, and red as a tomato. He heard a gasping sound, and looked down in concern. Sakura was crying. Her entire body was shaking with the effort, and tears streaked down her cheek. After a rather awkward moment, Sakura turned around, and looked about in confusion. Syaoran in turn, respectfully turned his back to her. As soon as he was sure she was safely in the neighbouring stall, he stormed out of the shower-rooms, putting a shirt on in the process. He his eyes were narrowed, and when he saw the woman who'd originally directed them in the bathroom, he rushed at her and grabbed her by the collar.

" What the hell do you think you were doing?" He growled.
*********

Hehe. Oops. It was suppose to be a short interlude, and I guess I got carried away. Well, I'll try to keep it short and sweet next time, unless any of you think otherwise. So, until next week, this is Hippoclymae wishing you happy reading!