Brionne was riding behind Nala. Nala had changed in the past day, and the difference was an immense relief. She was there. She didn't speak, but she did participate, instead of just following, or running from danger. She was becoming the friend he had met in the worst of places again, and for that he was grateful for whatever gods might be looking over them.
The day was beautiful. Drizzt walked easily to one side of the horse. He seemed as happy as Brionne had ever seen him. The early morning pleasures seemed to have taken the worries from him and left him free and relaxed. Dappled sunlight passed over the Fey's white hair, worn long and free in the warrior's style. It was beautiful. Some times Drizzt would turn his face to the sun, as if enjoying the sunlight even as he squinted against it. Everything about him was fascinating to Brionne; exotic.
As they traveled, Brionne worked to teach the Fey more words. So we can communicate better, he thought, trying to ignore the other reason at the back of his mind; so that if I die, he may still get Nala to safety. So that when the collar's punishments become too much for me and I go back to Relder, he can speak for himself.
It was easier to focus on the happier reasons, to remember the playful lesson in the dark of the hay-shed, as he listed every part of Drizzt's body and reinforced the message with a lick, touch or caress. He did not blush as he remembered Drizzt's eagerness and willingness, but the thought brought a sensation of warmth to his chest, and he cherished it.
"Anja is wife to Dalt, mother to Meek, mother to Zan." Brionne was explaining. "Zan is sister to Meek, son to Dalt, son to Anja." Drizzt nodded, seeming to understand. "Meek is sister to Zan, daughter to Dalt, daughter to Anja."
Drizzt looked up, eager to learn. "Meek sister, Zan brother." He smiled, white teeth bright against the darkness of his skin. "Nala sister, Brionne brother?"
Brionne shook his head, knowing how confusing it must be, how much they looked alike, sitting together on top of the horse. "Ai, no." He used the word Drizzt had used for his cat. "Friend. Brionne and Nala are friends." Drizzt looked skeptical. Brionne searched for the words.
He held one hand out to the side, "Mother, father, Brionne." He named his fingers. He held the other hand out, holding onto the horse with his knees. "Mother father Nala." He folded down the "parent" fingers on both hands. "Bought." He explained, making the universal gesture for money as he brought the Brionne finger to the center. "Bought" he said again, moving the Nala finger beside it. He watched Drizzt, trying to see if he had been understood.
Drizzt nodded, but asked a question, using the word Brionne was beginning to suspect was "Why?"
Brionne caught Nala watching the conversation, a slight frown at her brow, but she didn't interrupt or seem upset.
"Brionne was bought." Brionne explained, "And was good. Yes?" Drizzt nodded. "So he bought a girl who was the same to his eyes." He made a hand gestures for the words, trying to express himself. "He thought she would be good too."
Brionne felt his face losing all expression, becoming gentle and distant. Nala sighed and looked away. Drizzt frowned with impotent anger.
"Brionne?" Drizzt asked. He made a knee-high gesture. "Bought?" he raised his hand to his hip. "Bought?" He raised it again, to his own head height, raising his eyebrows in question. Brionne stared at him for a moment, trying to understand. What could he be asking? Then it suddenly made sense.
"I was bought first when I was ten years old." He flashed both hands open. "The second time, seventeen. The third, twenty two. The fourth, twenty-eight." He illustrated each sale with his fingers, showing how many years. Drizzt nodded and looked away, and for a moment they walked in silence.
"Drizzt?" Brionne asked softly, and the lavender eyes met his. "When were you bought?"
The Fey looked away, and Brionne knew he wasn't being ignored, that some things were difficult to speak of. Drizzt made a gesture with his arms, like he was holding a tiny babe. "Drizzt his mother's slave and sisters' slave." He made a gesture like sitting the baby on the ground, raised his hand like the child was growing. "Slave, slave, slave." When the hand was even with the top of his head, he smiled and gestured it away like he was letting a bird take flight from his fingers. "Free."
Brionne smiled, bittersweet and gentle. There was no jealousy, but a soft envy, a sorrow for what had been taken from him when the collar had first been put on him, what he would never have again. "Free." He whispered, feeling happy at least that Drizzt and Nala would know that feeling soon, and forever.
He had slipped into day-dreaming without realizing it, thinking of Nala safe and happy again. And then he was falling, pain from the collar invading his entire being, cutting off his thoughts, his control over his body, even his breath. It was a sensation so overpowering it was like going mad for a moment.
The muscles along his spine contracted, arching his head backwards. Something was wrapped around him, holding his shoulders off of the ground, but he couldn't understand. Wave after wave of agony cut through him. There was no getting used to a pain like this, no learning to accept it. In the heart-beat between waves he tried to take a desperate drought of air and breathed in liquid instead.
The next wave was upon him then, and he writhed in desperation, trying to breathe.
*****************************
"Hello in the house," called the hunter as she approached the woodcutter's shack. Her men and dogs waited down the path, out of sight. After a few moments, a man stepped out, a wood ax held down at his side.
"What do you want?" he called back, every line of his posture wary.
"Hunting brigands," the hunter replied, "They killed four travelers in the forest, not far from here. Have you seen any strangers?"
The woodcutter shook his head. "Nah. Don't get much company out here."
The hunter's eyes glanced around. She noted the churned up ground near the house, where it looked like a horse had been loaded and mounted since the rains swept the ground smooth.
"Where's your horse?" She asked, her voice still companionable.
"Gone. Wife took it over t' the farm over th' hill. Girl there's expectin'. "
There was no reaction on the hunter's face, nothing in her eyes. "I see." She said. The man shifted uncomfortably on the porch.
"Good day to you, sir." She said, turning her horse and heading out, following the hoof prints so visible in the soft earth.