Vojnka had barely slept when someone started rousing her up roughly.
"Vojnka! Vojnka!" the voice kept getting more desperate.
She woke up tired and was still trying to get her bearings right as the voice was yelling something at her.
"What?" she asked, tiredly.
"Marit left for the king's palace!"
It took a moment for her to understand that and it jolted her up. "What?! When?!"
"Sometime ago" Mogens said, stepping aside as she leapt from the bed.
"And you didn't stop her?!"
"She said she would slit my bowels out"
She almost slipped in her desperate panic, but was quick to recover and bolted out of the room. Mogens didn't try to follow her, he knows he can't keep up. He heard someone ask her what is going on, he didn't hear an answer, only the commotion of her run.
Vojnka approached the high walls and massive gate of the castle, knowing it was locked, she made a powerful leap that brought her near the top of the walls, her right fingers dug into the walls, bloodied, for hold, and with the other hand she climbed onto the top with good efforts and threw herself over, landing hard with a staggered crash. She kept running, heart pounding, her legs running as fast as her near mana deprived body could afford. Her sister must have taken a horse, and she wasn't sure how long ago she left. The king wouldn't spare her, he wouldn't spare any of them, and it would be all her fault.
Her lungs burned as she tore through the capital's winding streets, her bare feet slapping against uneven cobblestones. This part of the city, though noble, was a patchwork of old and new—crumbling stone walls braced with fresh scaffolding, half-torn buildings giving way to new reconstructions. Not that she noticed any of these as her mind fixed on the hooves she now hear clattering in the distance towards the king's hill.
She veered left, ducking under a low-hanging beam where a tavern was being rebuilt, its new walls still raw and unfinished. The alley ahead was a shortcut, a narrow gap between leaning buildings that would save her more than half the run. Without hesitation, she squeezed through, her shoulders brushing against the damp stone. A pile of debris—broken bricks and wood from a demolished shop—blocked part of the path, but she jumped over it, her bloodied fingers reaching for balance.
The alley spit her out into a wider street. She wasn't hearing the hooves again so she thought her sister must have increased her distance considerably, but she saw her, far ahead, stopped by 3 watchmen.
Vojnka's breath hitched. Her knees nearly gave out from the sudden stop. She walked now—slow, shaky steps, like her body would crumble if she ran again. She could now hear the taunts that accompanied the laughter and mockery melted against her sister and they were the usual words.
One of the watchmen, with a laughing face, looked at her direction and seemed to recognize her immediately.
"Cursed be..." his face lost its laugh.
He nudged his comrades and they turned, their chatter dying into uneasy silence as they stared at her approach.
They stepped aside when she reached them, one was saying something but she didn't pay any attention to it, she just looked at her sister.
"ma...?" she called softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her sister didn't look at her, didn't move—just stared ahead, tears now streaking her cheeks. Her fingers fumbled at the reins, clenching them so tight her knuckles paled.
"This will hurt me more than anything he has done. Please"
The watchmen watched on, confused, in the strange tension, but very much interested.
Marit broke down crying.
"I can't live with this" she said, looking at her sister.
"We've been through worse" Vojnka said with a smile. "Remember the forest cave?"
Marit's laugh broke through her tears, a choked, reluctant sound. She looked at her sister.
"I'm fine" Vojnka reassured.
Marit held her sister's eyes for a moment then started nodding slowly in understanding. She took a deep breath in and out, then tugged the reins, her horse turning slowly, hooves clopping against the stone.
The watchmen watched them leave.
"Are we going to report this to the king?" the one who had first seen her asked.
"I don't see why not" another answered.
┌─────── ♕ ───────┐
Nita and the feline went into the little town of Ildre, north of Estonia, for quick supplies. It was around the break of dawn, when even the earliest of traders were still setting up shop. They did their best to avoid recognition, or attract attention, but it is hard to hide a furry tail.
Nita turned to the feline as their horses walked out of the town. "We will have to finish off with your hair when we stop for breakfast" she said referring to the half finished double thick braid that Nita had started working on late last night. It took too much efforts to convince the feline to go through with it, and Nita was hopeful she would allow her finish. "It looks perfect on you".
She adjusted the reins, ignoring the compliment.
Few minutes after they reach the outskirts of the town, the feline realized they were been followed.
"What is it?" Nita asked when the feline looked behind them a second time. She too was now searching the bushes behind them.
The feline was wheeling her horse around, but Nita stopped her.
"Let's see how serious they are first" she said.
The feline heals fast, but she still has some of her bandages on. Nita looked behind her again, and then smiled at the feline, "Have you ever been in a horse chase before?"
The feline said nothing, but her eyes smiled, and she clutched on her reins tighter. Nita laughed at that. She immediately nudged at her horse hard, spurring it forward. She snapped the reins against the animal's neck urging even greater speed. The feline was already in toll.
Behind them there were several movements in the bushes. About seven men on horses jumped out of hiding in pursuit.
The forest blurred as Nita and the feline spurred their horses forward, hooves thundering against the damp earth. Branches clawed at their cloths, snapping in their wake. The wind roared in their ears, carrying the distant shouts of their pursuers. Nita's laughter rang out, wild and defiant, as she leaned low, urging her mount to weave through the dense pines. The feline matched her pace, her grip tight on the reins, eyes alight with thrill.
Nita glanced behind and let out a sudden "oh...!" and flattened herself against her horse's neck as the arrow whistled past. She laughed but hauled on the left rein, darting sharply towards the denser trees. Her companion followed.
An arrow struck into a tree, quivering, as Nita flew past, but the moment she came into view again, there was an arrow stuck deep into her back.
The feline's eyes widened, horror flashing across her face. She glanced back to see another been strung. Her hand moved on instinct, hurling her blade at him, and struck him a non-fatal wound, though enough to interrupt the shot. But there were two of them.
In her desperation she leaped from her horse, slamming into Nita, shoving her clear of the next arrow's path, oblivious to it tearing deep at her own back as they fell off the moving horse. Her hand grabbed on the protruding shaft on Nita's back, quickly broke it, spun just in time for the hard, rough impact from the unforgiving ground.
Nita's face was pale, blood bubbling at her lips. Her eyes, heavy with pain, met the feline's tear-filled gaze. "I'm fine," she rasped, forcing a bloodied smile. "Take care of them first."
The feline hesitated, her hands shaking, but the pounding of hooves grew louder. Gently, she propped Nita against a tree, positioning her on her side, and scrambled up the slope.
She ran towards them and made a powerful leap with a desperate pained cry, latching onto the first. Her claws scratched at his face terribly, then sinked into his throat and blood sprayed as she tore it out with a feral snarl. She yanked his blade free, and ducked, spun, and slit a man open from hip to chest. Another came in and she seized his wrist mid-swing, twisted until bone snapped, and drove the blade into his gut. Her face was streaked red, her breathing ragged. She was mad. One by one, they fell, no hesitation from her, their death blows brutal. The last man staggered, clutching a gash across his gut, before collapsing.
She threw the bloodied blade away and raced back towards Nita. From atop the slope she saw her lying still. A cold dread caught her heart. She leaped from there, landing beside Nita and gathering her limp body into her arms. Nita's eyes were closed, her face pale. She gave her quick slaps on the face. No response. Her breath hitched, tears spilling down her face. She shook her, harder now, a desperate edge to her movements. Another slap, sharp and futile. Nita's head lolled, her eyes closed, her skin cold.
The feline clutched her tighter, tears streaming silently. A low, broken laugh escaped her lips, trembling at first, but it grew, into casual laughter. No pain, no sorrow just a casual continuous laugh that echoed through the silent trees, with her unending tears mixing with the blood on Nita's face.
┌─────── ♕ ───────┐
Canaria, North Estonia.
Mustapha stepped out of the alchemist's shop, the small bottle of medicine in his hand. The narrow street buzzed faintly with people. A cart was creaking past, its driver cursing the mud.
He looked up to see the girl still waiting for him by the street side, with the young boy and their horses. He was surprised. She had been there when he cleared the bandit bases and it had shook her to her core to the point of visibly trembling and not been able to look him in the eyes for a whole day.
"She said she is not going anywhere" the boy said with his usual amused laugh.
He looked at her. She held his gaze in her attempt to seem defiant.
He crossed to his horse, slipping the medicine into his satchel with a practiced ease. His fingers worked the straps, securing the bag, then tightened the saddle as he prepared to mount. "I told you you are not going beyond this town with me"
"But I have nowhere else to go" she said, unable to mask her caution.
"Which is why I brought you here" he said, not looking at her. "Start over. You took all their coins, didn't you?"
"I have no father, or mother" she argued. "I will be sold"
"And what makes you so sure I won't sell you?" he challenged, looking at her now.
She looked so young and vulnerable, but the continent is filled with many such people and he can't take them all with. He glanced at the boy, still grinning as if this were a game. Mustapha doesn't understand why the boy is amused, but he always seem to be amused. Showing weakness here will make him dread going into towns, and he can't afford that.
"Sorry, child" he said, swinging onto his horse. Her face crumpled, eyes glistening, shoulders slumping as if the fight drained out of her.
He tried to wheel the horse around but the girl quickly followed, blocking his path. "At least take me to Drakoria!" she pleaded. "I will pay you!"
She yanked a fat pouch from her belt, coins clinking, and showed him. He knows it contains the coins she looted from the dead bandits.
"Here," she tossed it at him. "Take it all. Just ta--"
Someone shoved her out of the way rudely.
A group of men pushed through, ignoring her stumble. They had a slave with them. A feline female. Collared, yet chained hands and feet. The feline beamed at the girl, then looked up, recognizing Mustapha, her eyes lit up immediately, and she beamed even brighter with an attempt of waving frantically at him in what seems like very close familiarity. It was unusual.
One of the men shove her to keep moving.
Mustapha watched them leave. He recognized her but he assured himself it wasn't his problem.
He tried to wheel his horse away, but the other girl was still stuck on him.
He sighed.
"Stop" Mustapha's resigned voice called.
The group looked back. The feline beamed.
"How did you come about her?" he asked.
"I'm sorry friend, she's spoken for" the would be leader of the small group, a wiry man, smiled politely.
"Do you know whose slave she is?" Mustapha pressed, still very calm, with an aristocrat repose.
The men shifted, uneasy. They knew the weight of his tone.
"We found her without a collar or bearings" the leader defended politely with a smile. Protecting themselves from any wrong doing without concession.
"Now who in the continent would their slaves be identified as such?" the man on the horse asked them.
They almost instantly recognized who he was alluding to and it made them nervous, even though they tried to hide it.
"Hand her over" he demanded.
She would fetch 30 silvers at the very least, and they know of a noble who would pay an extra 5 for the fact that she's a virgin. That's not the kind of money any of them can ignore, but if what he says is true, then they risk certain death. Not just for them.
"And how would we know you speak truth?" the leader insisted.
Mustapha let out a sigh of frustration, and then face them again.
"You will give her to me," he said casually, "or I will take her from your corpse"
The leader held his gaze, then a quick glance at the young man with the smug expression sitting on a horse beside him. He is checking out their chances. There are 8 of them and only two of them, but something tells him at least one of the two is awakened.
He turned away from them and approached the feline. She smiled at him, mockingly he thinks. He hesitated with the keys. They had found her without a fight in her, but you can never tell with these beasts.
He tossed the keys at her, at which she smiles when she caught it. The collar was without stone and barely more than an hour left so it is a negligible loss.
He made to turn, to address the man on the horse, but he saw the quick movement from the side of the eye and heard the jingles of the chains. He turned just in time to see the end of the upward back swirl that saw the feline somehow sitting on the shoulders of the man that had shoved her earlier, her legs compressing tight on his neck.
They all drew their blades almost at the same time immediately.
Yadav was completely stiff but you can feel his panic. The feline had her right hand on his face, with her beastly, darkened claws dug deep under his chin, drawing blood. She stared at them with that usual smile as if daring any of them to do something as Yadav squirm in pain and dread.
"Let him go" the leader said, trying to balance authority and caution.
The man who wants her didn't seem interested to stop her and none of them can be fast enough to do anything.
She held his eyes and he would have sworn he heard the screech her claws made to the bones of Yadav's face as they scraped up his face. His screams drowned in a gurgle because she ripped his throat out almost immediately and down they both went.
None of them were quick to attack her. They didn't know what she was capable of, though chained. No one wanted to be the first, and the leader didn't give any orders either. They feared they didn't stand a chance. Three of them ran away. Passersby scattered, a woman clutching her basket, a child staring wide-eyed before his mother yanked him away.
The feline rifled through Yadav's body, finding his pouch, she emptied it to the ground. A silver, five bronzes, a few coppers. She picked up 3 bronze coins and a copper, then rose, chains clinking.
The leader hadn't ran, and he seem to be regretting it as she made her way towards him. He could outrun her, he thought, but the idea of turning his back to her now was more scary. He nervously put up his guard, ready for a fight.
She reached him, hand out. He looked at her and then her hand. He knew what she was asking for but the thought of giving it up made him to contemplate death. That was the biggest score of his life, even if he shares it with the entire group equally.
He looked to give the orders for them to attack, to see if they could hold her off until the soldiers of the town arrive, but the way she smiled, as if she read his thought, scared him into submission. He brought his guard down, took out the money pouch they took off her dead companion and tossed it to her.
She tucked the coins she took off Yadav into the pouch as she walked away, chains dragging, towards the people waiting for her. She approached Mustapha, and he offered her a hand, lifted her up to sit in front of him, legs to the side. The other girl seeing what's happening rushed to the other man on the horse scrambling up behind him. And without even paying mind to the damages done, he wheeled his horse around and they sped out of town.
"Follow them," the leader muttered to two young men, who nodded and slipped out. He stood still, staring at Yadav's body—his late brother's son, blood pooling in the mud. It surprised him how little it affected him. All he could think about was the money.