Disclaimer: Story background and settings belong to Mercedes Lackey but most characters are mine, except Bard Stefan, King Treven, Queen Jisa and the Ashkevrons. The plot so far is solely mine.
Chapter 8 Will Kerri see Dawn?
Rolling to her left, Kerrayrlia evaded the blow. She tried to leap to her feet, but unfortunately, the gown she was wearing did not encourage such misuse. The train of her floor-length gown snagged on the bushes on the right and Kerrayrlia stumbled.
Taking advantage of her distraction, the shadowy figure darted forward quickly and caught hold of her arms in an iron grip. "Let's see where you're going now...little one." The person laughed cruelly. The voice was distinctly male, a detached part of Kerrayrlia took note. The rest of her brain however, was busy dealing with the bolt of fear that jolted through her at the promise of danger in that voice.
Dragging her up by sheer force, the shadowy figure pinioned Kerrayrlia's arms behind her back, no doubt thinking that Kerrayrlia was subdued. The next moment however, he grunted with pain as Kerrayrlia delivered a backwards kick to his knee. Unfortunately, his grip on her did not loosen in the slightest. After cursing her a few times, he moved to tie up Kerrayrlia's hands with a thick rope. Then, when Kerrayrlia started to scream, he plucked a handful of the leaves from the bushes and stuffed them into her mouth, effectively gagging her.
Struggling all the while, Kerrayrlia was soon hauled into the grove. Candles set into candle-holders on the outside of the building overlooking the grove flickered dimly. Kerrayrlia's heart filled with hope briefly on seeing the windows overlooking the grove; hope which was soon squashed by the absence of lights in any of those windows. Doubtless, the three plotters had chosen a place where no one could have overheard their conversations.
Three stone benches squatted on the far side of the grove. On three sides, towering bushes rose high into the sky, effectively screening this particular cul-de-sac from the rest of the garden. Kerrayrlia's shoulders sagged slightly as she realized that no one would notice her plight, even as she squinted to take in the features of her captors. Unfortunately, the light cast by the candles fell way short of their faces. Vaguely, she could make out that the man sitting on the middle bench was rather tall, but that was all she could see. When he spoke, it was in the cool, smooth voice that Kerrayrlia identified as belonging to the cold-blooded would-be murderer.
"Now, what have we here? Derrik, explain." Kerrayrlia felt the pressure on her hands disappear as the previously shadowy figure let go of her hands. She knew better than to try to escape however; the person who had caught her was highly skilled. If only I had my sword with me... As it is, I don't stand a chance.
The figure behind her took a few steps forwards, until he was slightly to the right and front of Kerrayrlia, and a few feet in front of the speaker. Then, facing the speaker, he dropped on one knee and bowed his head. "I found her eavesdropping by the side path, my lord." The lord hissed in displeasure. "And how did she came to be at the side path? You were supposed to be guarding it."
Half of the figure in front of her was kneeling in the shadows. From what Kerrayrlia could see, he was clothed in dark grey leathers. Through the material, his muscles bulged firmly. Even though he was kneeling, Kerrayrlia could see that he was hulking and tall. Yet the imposing figure in front of her actually squirmed when he heard the lord's question; it was almost comical to behold. He bowed lower, if such a thing could be possible.
However, when he spoke, his voice was clear and strong. "I stepped away from my duty post for a few minutes, my lord, to… answer a call of nature. She must have entered then. I… did not think to check the path for intruders until just now. I have no excuses, my lord."
The lord snarled. That was the only word Kerrayrlia could think of for that half-bestial sound. "You stepped away from your duty post. Perhaps you would like another taste of what Simon can give you? You may report to the torture chamber tomorrow." Each syllable was delivered slowly, with a bite to every word. By the end of the dialogue, the tremors in the muscled man had increased drastically. His voice actually trembled as he gasped, "To the...torture chamber?"
With great effort, the muscled man pulled himself together. "I hear and obey, my lord." Kerrayrlia shivered inwardly. She could see that the lord was a person to be feared just by Derrik's reactions alone. She shuddered at the thought of such a person having total control over her fate.
As if the lord could read her mind, he suddenly addressed her in silky tones, "You present me with something of a quandary, girl. If memory serves me correctly, you are a Trainee in the Bardic Collegium. Now, I'm sure they would investigate if you were murdered. If, on the other hand, you suddenly disappeared…without a trace..." Kerrayrlia stood stock-still in the ensuing silence, aware that her very fate rested on his words. The small part of her mind still rational wondered absently about the lord's recognition of her, but the rest of her was filled with terror.
This was her worst nightmare come true – her whole destiny lying in the hands of a male. Somehow, even the flickering stars in the skies seemed dimmer to Kerrayrlia. Will I live to see tomorrow's dawn? A low, husky voice broke through the quiet of the night. Not quite condescending, the person on the lord's left spoke. "Why don't you leave her to me, my lord? After all, you should not be doing such menial tasks. And such radiant beauty should not be wasted, don't you think?"
The cold voice was arrogant and icy. "Very well, cousin. I know that your tastes run towards...force and unwilling victims. I shall leave you here to your pleasures. However, Derrik will stay to see that whatever's left of her shall be disposed of." With that, the lord swept from the shadows towards the only exit, with Baron Monthallen following closely behind. Derrik also left, presumably to take up his post once again at the small side path that he should have been guarding.
Unfortunately, by that point in time, Kerrayrlia was too consumed with terror to take any note of the identity of the lord who had coldly left her to the tender mercies of his cousin. She stared with half-concealed fear at the man who stepped out from the shadows. He was not a tall man, nor one even remotely huge, but somehow, at that moment, Kerrayrlia felt completely dwarfed. Her hands hopelessly tied up, she tried to hurt the dark haired man by rushing him, aiming her head at his soft stomach.
The man just laughed in his low, throaty voice. With a backhanded slap, he sent Kerrayrlia sprawling on the ground. "Manners, girl, manners. I like my women subdued...eventually. You will enjoy the experience more if you give up fighting. After all, you wouldn't want to die a virgin would you?" Anger momentarily replaced Kerrayrlia's fear. What did this man think she was? She was no man's toy to do with as he wished; she, Kerrayrlia, would not give up or surrender. Not to this man, not to any male. Ever.
With that thought in mind, Kerrayrlia rolled to her feet and aimed a kick at the man. The kick connected with the man's dark green breeches with a loud thud. The man let out a muffled groan, but with more strength than Kerrayrlia would have believed possible, delivered a blow to Kerrayrlia's head that knocked her onto the ground.
Before she could recover, the man had her pinned down with one hand. His other hand, however, was busy too, caressing Kerrayrlia's small, round breasts. When Kerrayrlia felt his hand groping her through her clothes, she let out a mental wail filled with the anguish that she could not express out loud.
When the man started ripping away the sleeves of her gown however, something in Kerrayrlia snapped. All of her fear and terror in its entirety broke through her emotional barriers thoroughly. Against the waves of the whitest fear and deepest terror, Kerrayrlia's thoughts were drowned out. In its place were the emotions that she normally repressed, avid terror, uncontrollable anguish and an undercurrent of pure, unadulterated rage.
All these were combined into one whirling maelstrom of emotions. By now, all of her awareness had disappeared under the waves of emotions. She had not blacked out, rather, her thought processes had been shunted off to one unimportant side of her brain. Screaming mentally, Kerrayrlia lashed out at anything and everything around her…