DISCLAIMER: Sexual and physical violence. Profanity. Torture. Hurt and comfort. Intolerance. Stinking objects and attitudes. In short, a difficult tale to read. So, if you are not an adult, both in mind and body, then don't read this story.

Visit my website at http://www.phair1.com or contact me at p.phair@comcast.net

THE RIDDED
by Phair
Part 15

“DAYNE! Where are you?”

“Oh, for the love of the gods, will you shut up? She’s gone! She’s never coming back,” Varna shouted.

She gathered up the bowl of thin broth she was trying to feed Senecos and stormed into the kitchen. Hurling the bowl into the wash basin, she wailed in frustration. Varna was fed up with the old man. He had been calling out for his damned monster for days on end.

Senecos lost his sanity and his health in the time since he locked Dayne in the storm cellar. Over the course of the first few days, he would ask Varna to release Dayne and bring her to his bedside. He wanted to set things right with her. Varna held fast, demanding Dayne remain confined. She delighted in reminding him of the girl’s traitorous nature. An exhausted Senecos would, in total despair, finally agree with her and let the matter rest until the next sun rise. He lost all hope when Varna gleefully announced Dayne’s arrest by the Elosians. Senecos took to his bed. His strength was gone. He was unable to withstand even short walks to the chamber pot. Senecos would just lay in his bed moaning which progressed into mumbles and ultimately turned into full cries for his daughter.

“We must look for her,” he tried to sit up as he spoke. “She’s too small to survive the woods.”

“She’s a full grown woman, you old fool!” Varna screamed from across the room.

Senecos managed to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He panted from the effort.

“Don’t get up! You’ll fall flat on your face again,” Varna raced to his side to hold him back.

“My baby girl is lost. Dayne, come home. Dayne, Papa needs you to come home,” the old man cried.

“She’s not a baby any longer. She’s a grown woman. Besides, the Elosians have her. General Felix is teaching to mind her manners now,” Varna grinned at the thought.

“No, not him, not Felix. He’ll kill her. He’ll leave her to die in the woods again. I must go save her. It’s like before. Only I can save Dayne. Felix has no compassion for his child. No pity for the ridded.”

Varna’s jaw dropped. General Felix was the Dayne’s father. Information like that must be worth at least a month of salted meat to somebody.

“Senecos, are you sure? Are you certain General Felix left Dayne to the wolves?” Varna asked in a sweet voice.

“Of course,” Senecos cried. “I waited until he finished cutting her. Then he walked off without even a backward glance at the baby. I grabbed her and ran all the way home. We must find her, Varna. We must!”

Varna stood up and went to get her shawl. She would go to the village and ask the first Elosian she met to give her safe passage to the General.

“I have a message for him from Waur himself,” Varna chuckled in a low voice. “Senecos, I’m going out to look for your baby. You stay right there in bed.”

“Dayne, where are you?” He called out.

Varna opened the door and heard a dog bark in the distance. She got a wonderful idea. A chance to ease her burden. She propped the door open so any passing beast could enter. Maybe even Waur’s hounds would find him. Senecos would not be able to defend himself. He would be easy pickings. She would never have to worry about the slim chance of Senecos speaking out against her.

“Dayne?”

“Don’t worry, dear,” Varna laughed, “I’m sure you’ll be seeing her very soon.”
* * *
Dayne shifted on the soft bedding in order to ease Becca out of her arms without waking the woman. She and Becca were given a room in the villa after the abrupt end to dinner. They were both emotionally and physically spent. The pair collapsed on the bedding fully dressed and fell asleep safe in each others arms. Dayne, rested from a brief sleep, started to undress her lover.

“No, don’t,” Becca’s eyes snapped open and she clutched at her clothing to hold it in place.

“Shh, it’s only me,” Dayne reassured. “I want to clean you up a little. The two of us are covered in food. We stink like a roasted pig,” Dayne gave a wink.

Becca shook her head. She sat up pulling a blanket over to cover herself, trying to move away from Dayne. “I don’t want you to see me. Don’t want you to see my body. It’s too…, I’m too…, horrible.”

“No, no, you’re beautiful. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” Dayne wrapped her arms around Becca and held her close. “Nothing will ever change that for me. Not gray hair, not missing teeth, not a saggy bottom,” Dayne teased to lighten the mood.

“You don’t understand,” Becca argued. “They used me. They marked me.”

“I don’t care what they did. Doesn’t change you for me. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” Dayne cuddled her close.

“What about this?” Becca snarled as she pulled away and tore the front of her dress open to reveal the brand. “Still a beauty, right?”

Dayne studied the mark for a moment. Then she leaned foreword, closing the distance between her and the cruel burn. With infinite care, Dayne placed a light kiss on the abused flesh.

“Does it hurt?” Her voice was husky with unshed tears.

Becca began to cry in earnest, “Not now. Not anymore.”

The two held each other close. There were tears; some bitter, some angry, some brimming with love. Soft words were shared. Moments of silence followed as they rediscovered their bodies capacity to heal one another. Finally, the one sound Dayne had been longing to hear broke free. A giggle. Becca giggled.

“What? Have you decided I’m funny looking or something?” Dayne tried to ask with a straight face.

“No, I decided I’m kind of stupid,” Becca sighed as she propped herself up on Dayne’s chest. “How could I think you would reject me? I know you better than that.”

“I understand, love. I was worried you’d hate me so I guess we’re even,” Dayne said as she played with Becca’s hair.

“Why would I hate you?” Becca was confused.

“You know, because I built the arrow launcher for the General,” Dayne saw a look of surprise cross Becca’s face. “Oh, you didn’t know. Oops.”

“You’re helping him?”

“Yes,” Dayne did not try to justify her actions.

Becca sat up but said nothing. She kept her back to Dayne as she considered the information. Dayne ached to reach out and caress her. To lavish kisses across her scarred body. But, Dayne understood Becca needed to decided to forgive or not without undue pressure.

“Did he threaten you? Is that why you’re helping him?” Becca looked over her shoulder to see Dayne shake her head no. “So, it was the promise of comforts that lead you to betray your family and friends.” An accusation stood between them.

“Becca, those people sold you into slavery,” Dayne said with clenched teeth. “They are not my family and you were my only friend ever. I built a weapon to use against them but I didn’t have the courage to kill them.” Dayne swallowed hard around the lump in her throat, “I wasn’t even strong enough to find the courage to kill myself.”

Becca’s cheeks paled with the thought of a life without Dayne. “No, don’t you ever say that. You are never to kill yourself. Your life is not your own. It belongs to me.”

Becca pounced on Dayne. She straddled the reclining woman. Fear was brimming in her eyes.

“Say it, your mine, say it,” Becca held Dayne’s arms down and leaned right into her face.

Dayne could smell the sweetness of her breath and could feel Becca’s nipples tease across her own, “I thought you were mad about me working with the General.”

“Dayne, don’t make me get rough with you,” Becca captured Dayne’s lips with a biting kiss. “Tell me you belong to me. Your life is mine to protect. Please, tell me you’re mine.”

“I belong to you, oh” Dayne gasped when Becca’s thigh spread her legs open. “So, I guess your not mad.”

Becca pushed hard against Dayne’s sex. “Let’s say not that mad,” Becca smiled as Dayne’s body responded to her moves.

“Do you forgive me for helping the General?” Dayne managed to get out as her body trembled under Becca’s touch.

“I was wrong,” Becca stopped to kiss Dayne. “As long as you’re alive, you’ve done nothing that I need to forgive.”
* * *
Even in a half sleep, Dayne could sense movement above them. Her hand went up on its own to stop whatever was coming down at them. The thin switch caught her across the palm with a hissing sting. Dayne managed to grab hold and pull the branch and its wielder to her. Abel fell heavily across Becca and Dayne.

“You are not welcome here,” Dayne spat in the man’s face.

“Ignorant barbarian! Whore’s half blood! I’m the head houseman, you can’t touch me. Nobody touches me. My Mistress will see you flogged,” Abel threatened with a great deal of bluster.

He struggled but Dayne held fast to his hair. The little man was fuming as he fought to get free. It did him little good. He was unable to budge her firm grip on him.

“I’ll see to it they stake out your bitch in the midday sun to bake!” Abel promised.

“You will never speak of her that way again,” Dayne’s voice dropped into a deadly range.

Pia was sitting in the pergola sipping on a juice squeezed from local fruit when she heard a shrill scream. She raced into the villa and followed the unmistakable sounds of a thrashing. It did not surprise her in the least to find the source of the commotion in the barbarian’s room. She was, however, stunned to see Abel’s ass bared and blooded. Dayne held the shrieking man over her lap and was mercilessly beating him with a switch. For her part, Becca remained seated in the bedding, half covered with a blanket and the most peaceful grin on her face.

“Enough,” Pia said in a voice laden with forced patience. “Dayne, let Abel get back to his duties. If you’re angry he woke you then you are angry with me. But,” Pia gave a half smile which lacked any humor at all, “I wouldn’t suggest you try to teach me Abel’s lesson. I might prove to be more of an opponent for you.”

“Lady Pia,” Dayne dropped the switch and release the whimpering Abel, “it was not the interruption I objected to. Your houseman tried to beat me in my own bed while I was still asleep. I won’t have it. What Elosian would suffer at the hands of a lesser man?”

Pia stifled a hearty laugh. “So, you’re an Elosian this morning. What transpired last night to make you so fearless? If I remember correctly, the roasted pig almost sent you running.”

“It’s true, I am ignorant,” Dayne stood tall and bowed her head slightly to acknowledge her failings. “My father denied me the right to be raised by my kind. This is no fault of mine. I’m Elosian without knowledge or training. But, Waur whispers in my ear and not yours, Lady Pia. Would you mock your god by mocking his messenger?”

“Abel, get out!” Pia ordered. She waited for the little man to gather himself and run off before she answered Dayne. “I don’t know why you were chosen to be his messenger. I’ll not question that you do Waur bidding. Still, this is my home. Those are my servants, as is this one,” she waved at Becca. “I’ll allow you to use them and abuse them as you see fit but, in the future, don’t beat them for my orders. It destroys their morale completely. They either become sullen or weepy or both and I’m forced to kill them all and start over.” Pia sighed, “As you can imaging, it’s a lot of work to break in an entirely new house staff.”

Dayne gave a frown. Other peoples’ lives meant so little to Pia. Dayne decided the General and Pia were a well matched pair.

Dayne spoke in the calmest voice she could muster. “I’ll keep my hands off your slaves as long as they keep their hands off me. Becca is not to be touched by anybody but me.”

“You do remember Becca, as you like to call her, is a slave. If she’s disobedient then she must be punished. Rules must be upheld. Are you prepared to dispense appropriate punishment for her actions?” Pia spoke as she sat on the bedding next to Becca. Occasionally, her hand reached out and stroked the blonde hair. “Are you ready to master her?”

“I’ll take care of Becca,” Dayne spoke around gritted teeth.

“Good, then we’ve finished with it. Now, onto what I wanted you for this morning.” Pia pointed directly at Dayne, “I sent Abel to get you because we have need of a weapon. One much more discreet than the arrow launcher.

Some sort of silent killing machine.”

Dayne walked over to the bedding. She sat on Becca’s other side and pulled the woman into her lap. She let Becca turn her back on Pia and nuzzle into the crook of her neck.

“Discreet? Silent?” Dayne questioned as she laid wordless claim to Becca.

“Yes,” Pia sighed heavily at Dayne’s possessiveness. It was a lost opportunity for the three of them to have some fun. “We need something to kill quietly. A weapon which can be used in a room full of dignitaries and them be none the wiser until they are dying on the floor.”

“I’ll sleep on it,” Dayne bit her lip as she pondered the task. “Send us food and drink. We’ll rest today. I need to dream of your weapon.”
Pia nodded. She rose to leave but thought of one more thing.

“It would be best if you explain the details of your design to me first and not the General. He had no head for details,” Pia lied easily.

Dayne nodded. She could see the deception in Pia’s eyes. However, Dayne did not challenge the claim. She continued to lay gentle stokes down the length of Becca’s back.
* * *
“Dayne?”

The growl from the doorway was menacing. It was the voice of a hungry wolf. A growl came again but did not move beyond the threshold.

“Must save my little baby,” Senecos mumbled as he tumbled out of his bed.

Two days with no food or water left him weak and beyond confused. His feverish body reeked of stale urine and excrement. The hound at the open door took a step back from the stench. It wondered if anything healthy could be alive in the dark hovel.

“Papa’s coming, Papa’s here, hush my girl,” Senecos called across the silent room.

He dug his fingers into the dirt floor. Senecos pulled himself to where the baby always slept, so many forgotten years before. His hands frantically searched for the wicker baby bed he made. He clawed his way closer to where it use to be.

The wolf let out a long bay in sympathy. It smelled the death. The old man was dying. He was nothing more than warm dinner without a chase or a fight spread out before the gray eyed wolf. Yet, it held back. There was another, fainter smell in and around the house. The scent of the Master filled the night. The wolf bayed again. It called to the pack. It called them to come home.

TBC

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