"The Heir Presumptive" (closed)

[WatchingCloud]

Breck Farm
County of Warrick
Barony of Parse

Mid morning:

Walton cringed himself at the expression of pain that crossed Camilla's face. He knew it was passing, though, and she would get used to the feel of a man inside her. When she didn't protest, he continued, slow and gentle as he could, working deeper.

Eventually, the tension in her body subsided. Her face relaxed and she smiled up at him, blinking back tears. "Am I a woman yet?"

Walton was a little taken aback, but smiled and kissed her. "Dear, you were already a woman. Now, well, you've just stepped through the door to a larger world."

He continued with a slow, steady pace, letting her become accustomed to the experience. He kissed her on the lips, the neck, her forehead. He sucked and nibbled at her breasts. He made love to the woman who would soon be his wife. It seemed improbable, impossible even, yet he was less bothered by the circumstances. Camilla pulled him closer and wrapped her legs around him.

The pain in Walton's side had worsened, clearly his wound wasn't ready for the abdominal stresses involved. Rather than ask her to take a top position, though, he pushed through and sought to hurry things up a bit. He sought an angle she best responded to and then began thrusting harder and faster. Her rickety bed protested but held together, right up through his climax deep inside.

He held himself in place for a moment longer, then collapsed atop the girl when he nearly passed out. Her pleasure quickly turned to concern and she had to help get him off her. Walton struggled to see, his vision fading. Her expression concerned him greatly, though.

When his head stopped spinning, he looked down and found his wound a mess. The bandages had been soaked through, complementing lines of scratches down his side from Camilla's grip. When she pulled the bandages back to check, he saw the skin of half his torso an angry, blotchy purple. What had happened?

"Cami, dear?" Camilla's mother called from somewhere just outside the house. "Where are you? Are you inside? I forgot to ask you something."

Walton saw the horror in Camilla's eyes.

"Go," he said. "I'll be fine. Just need to wrap this back up."

He knew he was lying. This didn't feel right at all.

 

[LoriDean12345]

Greenhaven

Mid morning:

Ranna watched as the farmer gave his old mule a slap on the rear with the crop and urged it toward the farm, pushing it to a pace to which it was unaccustomed. She let the man get far enough out of ear shot that he didn't hear her tell William, "It might be faster if we walked."

Her Captain laughed, asking, "Should I bind you to your saddle, in case you fall asleep."

"It's been a long night, so don't think I haven' considered it," she laughed. She took a long look around the town, asking, "Are we still in the County of Riverbrook?"

"Riverbrook County, no, but Barony of Parse yet, my Grace." He could see a change in her face, and knew she'd made the shift from anger and disappointment to one of sympathy and benevolence. "What would you like me to do while you are away, my Grace."

She met William's gaze, and chuckled. "I'm such a fucking bleeding heart sometimes, aren't I?"

He only laughed. Ranna pulled a purse from her saddle bags and tossed it to him. She didn't need to tell him to distribute the coin by apparent need; this wasn't their first time helping those who weren't being helped by their Nobles. And she didn't need to tell him to collect information about Count Warrick, his taxes and other land fees and tolls, and other bits of information that she could either use personally or messenger back to her father, who was after all the last voice in any conversation.

"Find a new Sheriff," Ranna did tell him. "Someone respected by the citizens. Perhaps this young man, Keno?"

"To young, my Grace," William responded. "Besides, he has his heart set on joining the Count's Guard. The Captain was very impressed with his late night ride."

"Very well, someone more appropriate," she agreed. Looking south, she found Ricken Breck glancing back as he and the priest were nearing the woods on a trail that split off from the main road. She said with humor, "If I don't come back by day's end, send out some men to see if I've been eaten."

"By the banshee?" he asked.

Ranna laughed as she kicked her horse forward, "No! By the locals."



Breck Farm

Mid morning:

"Dear, you were already a woman," Walton told Camilla. "Now, well, you've just stepped through the door to a larger world."

She smiled at the compliment, reaching her lips up to kiss Walton sweetly on the mouth. She'd never felt so grown up as she did right now with the man's cock deep inside her, regardless of the pain.

He continued with a slow, steady pace, letting her become accustomed to the experience. He kissed her on the lips, the neck, her forehead. He sucked and nibbled at her breasts. And as he did, the pain began to subside a bit, replaced by pleasure. Camilla had never really touched herself down there, even though she knew it would feel good. Once when she was younger, her mother had caught Camilla hunched over examining her womanhood and slapped her so hard it left her cheek red and then bruised for several days. She didn't understand what she'd done wrong, and her mother hadn't explained, other than to chastise her.

So, this was essentially the first time the young woman had enjoyed the pleasures of sex. Of course, the pleasure portion of it didn't last long; even though Walton had found an angle she best responded to and then began thrusting harder and faster, his lack of any recent sex and her own tightness led him to a quick climax.

Camilla knew when Walton came in her, of course; she'd seen him orgasm the day before in the tack room, and she also felt his cock jerking inside her. She looked to his face, finding him filled with an expression of joy … but … also pain? He hadn't looked quite this … serious yesterday, but Camilla had no way of knowing whether this was normal or not.

When he collapsed down upon her, she grunted a bit. He was twice her weight nearly, and -- because of his injury and weakness -- couldn't support himself atop her without … well, squishing her. Camilla urged Walton off to one side, finding it nearly impossible to scoot him. Finally, though, his weight fell to mattress beside her.

"Walton!" she suddenly called out in panic. There was blood all over his side and all over her as well. And it wasn't hers, even though she wouldn't have expected it to be as she had no knowledge of hymens and what almost happened to them when a cock found them. She rolled him entirely to his back and pulled back the bandage. "Oh dear Gods! What have I done to you?"

"Cami, dear?" Camilla's mother called from somewhere just outside the house. "Where are you? Are you inside? I forgot to ask you something."

Walton saw the horror in Camilla's eyes, telling her, "Go, I'll be fine. Just need to wrap this back up."

Camilla's horror, though, wasn't because she thought her mother would catch them in bed, with the man who wasn't yet her husband deflowering her. Her horror was because she'd never seen him this way, not even when she'd first found him laying in the road with the arrow still in his side. Walton's side was varying shades of purple and blue, and -- from her limited education from Nalla -- Camilla knew this was not something that could just be wrapped back up.

"I'll be back my love," she said with panic, kissing him on the forehead. "I'll be back!"

Camilla snatched up her shift and donned it as she ran for the door, opening it and screaming to Lonna, "Mama! Something's wrong! Walton's hurt! Hurry! Hurry, Mama."

It took a moment for Lonna to get to the door, and by the time she did, Camilla was on the bed again, holding the head and shoulders of an unconscious Walton in her lap. She screamed, repeating, "Mama! What's wrong? What's wrong?"

 

[WatchingCloud]

The Breck Farm
County of Warrick
Barony of Parse

Mid morning:

Lonna hadn't gotten far down the road, going through potential invitees in her head for the wedding and worrying over food to prepare on short notice and who she could ask for help and... It was a lot to worry about. She recalled her daughter's long standing row with Ricken's sisters children - Camilla's cousins - and didn't want to invite them if it was going to be a problem. After waffling, she just turned back to ask Camilla. It'd be quicker to do it now than have to go out again later.

Camilla wasn't in the vegetable garden or barn. Nor was she out doing wash. Damn girl was probably back inside with that man instead of doing chores. She sighed. Well, after tonight, it'd be that Walton's problem.

Lonna called out for Camilla and only a few moments later her daughter burst out of the house, all disheveled, and screaming in a panic.

Lonna raced inside and one look at Walton said things were very bad indeed. There was blood everywhere and his side looked like it'd been pummeled by a charging bull. A boy died known as a child had been injured like that once and hadn't lasted the night.

Camilla was up on the bed beside the man, cradling his head and crying and asking what was wrong with him. Lonna grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back.

"Get off him, you fool girl! Let me look."

The wound in his side was still bleeding, but not profusely. The skin that wasn't a horrific blotch of dark color had gone clammy white. His breathing was shallow and ragged. She couldn't say exactly why, but Lonna didn't think the man would live much longer. She had no idea how to help him short of bandaging the wound, but that seemed almost superficial.

"That Nalla girl," she said to Camilla. "Can you find her?"

Camilla was in too much of a panic and it took several tries to get the message through. When she finally nodded yes, Lonna said, "Then go find her and hurry."

Camilla ran out of the room and Lonna turned her attention back to the guard. She felt his neck for a pulse and could barely feel it. She wouldn't tell her daughter this, but she'd really sent her away so she wouldn't have to witness the man die on her own bed.

 

[LoriDean12345]

The Breck Farm
County of Warrick
Barony of Parse:

Early afternoon:

Camilla ran out the door, looking left and right, unsure of which way to go; Greenhaven was a known, a community she could reach blindfolded, but it had no Healer, Midwife, or Alchemist who might know what to do for Walton; and while Camilla knew -- or presumed -- that Nalla was still at the Thicket, she didn't honestly know where the secret encampment was, never having been there and only having heard vague descriptions of the portion of the Wailing Woods in which it was located.

She made a decision … then realized she was barefoot and dressed only in her shift. She ran back inside for her boots, rushed to Walton once more with her eyes full of tears, and was again commanded by her mother to go get help. She dropped onto the hut's packed dirt floor, donned and tied her boots, threw a shawl around her shoulders, and ran out again...

...heading south for Nalla's hut.

Camilla had concluded that the Healer was her only chance to save Walton … and while she didn't know how to find the Thicket from here, she was pretty sure she knew how to find it from Nalla's home.



Behind her in the Breck Family home, Lonna pulled a chair over to the bed and sat. She left the blood soaked bandages in place and only pressed more clean ones over them with one hand while her other hand went to the man's chest...

...which showed no sign of breathing.

Lonna began sobbing, not necessarily for Walton, who she'd only just met and didn't know. But she knew her daughter … and this was going to crush her.

 

[WatchingCloud]

Warrick House

Lunch:

Count Warrick was even more of a bore over lunch. Trett had hoped the count's mistress, Zee, might make an appearance, but no such luck. She'd intrigued him almost enough to consider staying another night. Almost.

Warrick kept pressing him for things he wanted the king to know, most all of it petty. The thinly veiled attempts to curry favor would never make it beyond his ears, but he listened and nodded and said the proper things.

As they finished and enjoyed a final glass of wine, a servant interrupted and said something softly in Warrick's ear, to which the count cocked an eyebrow.

"It seems there's someone here for you with an urgent message," he said, looking at Trett almost suspiciously.

Trett shrugged and waited until a teenage boy dressed in commoners clothing stepped in. He was wide eyed at everything and looked terrified. Trett didn't recognize him, but that meant little.

"Who are you, boy?" Warrick asked, adding a booming edge to his voice.

The boy fell to a knee and bowed his head. "Borin, your...highness."

Trett took some pity on the lad and cut in before Warrick could make him feel any more uncomfortable. "You have a message for me?"

"Lord Trett?" Trett nodded, and Borin continued. "Princess Ranna herself requests your presence in Greenhaven."

Trett narrowed his eyes. How'd she even know he'd come here rather than travel on home? Spies everywhere, he assumed, and he hadn't gone out of his way not to be seen. But what was she at in summoning him there? Greenhaven was that tiny excuse for a town where Anya had been accosted, if he remembered correctly. Was this where she would set him up at last?

"What about?"

"I wasn't exactly told, my lord, but she was there about her missing carriage and guards, I think. Oh, and she heard about what you did to... Well, you know."

Warrick gave Trett a suspicious look and Trett quickly filled him in on the rape and justice dispensed. Warrick didn't seem overly pleased by either, but said nothing.

Trett, meanwhile, was less worried about his own safety. Ranna was indeed probably looking after her silly decoy. Half the reason he'd come here was to pass that along to Warrick and the count had assured him he had men looking for the missing girl. That gave Trett an idea.

"Thank you, Borin," he said. "Return to Greenhaven with word I'll be along shortly." The boy bowed and looked immensely relieved to be gone.

"You should join me," Trett told Warrick. "Ranna is going to want to know who's looking and where, and will probably want even more resources. If she thinks for a second this isn't your highest priority, well, you know who her father is..."

Warrick looked like he'd swallowed a lemon, but couldn't argue. He called staff to prepare a travel party and guard, all to be ready within the hour. Trett took his leave to make sure his own carriage and luggage was ready, along with the ladies.

 

[WatchingCloud]

The Breck Farm
County of Warrick
Barony of Parse:

Early afternoon:

Ricken's donkey even seemed to pick up on his urgency and managed a good pace all the way back to the farm. Several neighbors took note of his passing by from the fields. None seemed to have a clue that the woman riding alongside was the heir apparent. He still had trouble believing it.

As they turned into the dirt path to his home, he saw his wife stand from where she'd been sitting on the front porch. Something in her body language set off a warning. What more could be wrong?

Lonna met them, barely sparing a look at the princess or priest. Her eyes were red and she sniffled.

"My dear, what's wrong?" Ricken leaped from the cart and took her in his arms.

"He's dead," she said. "Camilla went for help and doesn't know. It'll devastate her."

Ricken couldn't believe it. The man he'd met last night was clearly injured, but have no signs of facing anything but a healthy recovery.

He looked back to the princess with a devastated, apologetic look. What could he do or say?

 

[LoriDean12345]

The Breck Farm
County of Warrick
Barony of Parse:

Early afternoon:

The little farm was about what Ranna had expected: a shack of a home, a barn that might fall in the next heavy wind, and very little wealth in the way of stock animals and food stores. The Free Peasants in Warrick County were often some of the poorest in the Barony. With the exception of the land that they personally owned, these peasants could not gain access to and exploit the natural resources -- timber, ores, flora and fauna, and more -- of the county lands without the written permission of Count Warrick.

And Warrick was well known for being stingy with what was his. He gave out only a fraction of permits compared to many Nobles; he took a much higher percentage of the profit; and -- if the peasants were working for direct wages -- they often made as little as a third as much as peasants in such Counties as Riverbrook.

Ranna felt for such people as the Brecks. It was hard enough for the peasantry to make ends meet anywhere on the Continent of Medianna. Restricting access to wealth and opportunity and then taxing them like Count Warrick did … well, it was the reason such groups as the Wailing Woods Highwaymen existed.

A woman came out of the house, likely attracted by the sound of the approaching horses. A brief exchange between Ricken Breck and the woman who was obviously his wife ended with, "He's dead."

Ranna's heart skipped a beat; she'd been led to believe her Grandmother's Guardsman was on the mend. She leapt off her horse and walked quickly for the hut as William followed.

The woman continued, "Camilla went for help and doesn't know. It'll devastate her."

Lonna moved forward to her husband and threw her arms around his torso. She erupted in sobs, again for her daughter more than for the deceased soldier.

Inside the hut, Ranna found Walton laying in a smallish bed. She hadn't really considered what to expect, but what she did find surprised her … and impressed her as well. The Breck woman had shown Walton an unexpected level of respect in death. She'd covered his body with a blanket, up under his arms to his pits. His fingers were intertwined at the middle of his chest, and in them -- point toward his feet -- was a dagger. He should have been holding onto his sword, but it didn't take a genius to imagine that those who'd attacked the carriage had taken all the weapons.

Ranna studied the man for a moment, showing her own respect, before slowly pulling down the blanket, looking for what had killed him. When she found the damage to his side, her stomach turned over. She'd seen some horrific damage to done to the human body before; she'd caused some as well. But this was disheartening; it was pretty obvious from the internal injuries, that Walton had been doomed all along.

"My Grace...?" William asked softly from the door. He said nothing more; those two words conveyed all of his questions.

"We'll take his body back to Riverbrook, of course," she began. She contemplated. "We need to track this Camilla … find where she's gone to … make sure she's safe."

She pulled the blanket back up to Walton's chest, turned, and headed outside. The Brecks were still standing together, talking. There was one more question yet to be answered. "Return to Greenhaven, Captain. Collect the troops that have arrived and send them here. When the rest arrive, if they haven't already, make some inquiries about the Highwaymen … send me word. We'll coordinate."

"We're going after them," William responded. It was a confirmation more than a question.

"If Lord Trett had not returned to Greenhaven or has not responded to my your man," she said, a bit of accusation in her tone, "send a pair of men..."

She looked into William's eyes and said with emphasis, "...and provide him with an escort back to the town. I wish to talk to him … face to face."

William asked with a fatherly tone, "You'll stay here until the men I send arrive, yes?"

Ranna looked to her Captain again, smirked, and said with a feigned tone of sincerity, "Of course."

William only shook his head lightly. He returned to his horse, mounted, gave her another long look of concern, and headed away back down the trail. Ranna looked to the couple just in time to see the woman heading her way.

"Please, my Grace," she said, dropping to both of her knees before Ranna. "Please! You must find my daughter, please."

"I will, madam," Ranna said without hesitation.

She lifted Lonna to her feet, questioning her about where Camilla would have gone, where the Highwaymen might be found, and more. Lonna told the Princess that her daughter had headed for the Healer's home.

"You told your man you would wait, my Grace," Ricken reminded her respectfully. "It's dangerous out there alone."

"I'll be fine, I promise you, sir," Ranna reassured the man. He tried to argue that she wait again, but she only repeated her promise. Looking to Lonna, who was now crying, Ranna said, "I will find your daughter … and I will bring her back to you. Trust me."

She mounted as William had, made her farewells, confirmed the healer's hut's location, and rode off deeper into the Wailing Woods.

 

[LoriDean12345]

Barony of Gahn
Kingdom of Weston

Midday:

The return home to Riverbrook from the City of Pratt hadn't exactly been going as Freeda and Baran had wished. Their execution of Jardin Lopes had caused a greater uproar than either of them had ever imagined; on at least a dozen occasions, troops from four or five different Guardsman organizations had nearly ridden over them in a rush to close off the borders and capture them.

Between the two of them, though, they had the knowledge of the area necessary to get them out of the Baronies of Pratt and into Barren Lands of Weston's southeastern most Barony, Gahn. (Map).

"We're due south of Riverbrook," Freeda told Baran as she dismounted. She pointed to a pass beyond the area of dying springs they were now passing...

"Home's that way," she continued, unsure of whether or not Baran knew the Barren Lands or not. "Through that pass, east a day back into Yemm--"

They'd gotten from Riverbrook to the City of Pratt through Yemm, the northernmost of the Baronies of Pratt. But on their trek to kill Jardin, they'd been in the east of Yemm, not on the western frontier it shared with the Kingdom of Weston. Right now, that made all the difference in the world as the forces of Pratt were blocking all the passes that would have gotten the two of them home already.

"We'll have to go west to circle the Barren Lands, then north through the Wailing Woods," she continued as she handed Baran her reins to keep her horse away from a spring upon which they'd ridden. "I know some people there. We'll be safe."

Freeda didn't want her horse near the spring until she checked it. It looked clear, unlike the sulfur springs to the north of them. But when the wind shifted and sent the smell of it over her, Freeda was glad she'd taken the precaution. She mounted again and shook her head.

"We'll have to find water elsewhere," she said, patting the horse. Their last water had been during the night, almost 6 hours ago. If they didn't find some soon, they'd be in trouble. She looked off toward a pass to the west, then -- again, not knowing if Baran already knew -- told him, "Through there, then … maybe by nightfall we reach the Wailing Woods. Another day through them, then a couple more and I'll be back in my own bed."

The mention of her own bed caused Freeda's stomach to turn over with nervousness. She and Baran hadn't talked about what happened between them that night in Pratt, and -- to be very honest -- she had had no intention of bringing it up. But it had been nagging at her as time went on.

"Teena is desperately in love with you," she said out of no where, looking to Baran. She studied him a moment, telling him, "When we get back, be honest with her. If you're not going to be faithful to her … and I'm not talking about me and you … that was … just the stress and won't happen again. I mean … when we get back to Riverbrook and my Grace gives you your title and estate … you have to make a choice. Marry Teena and make her your Lady or never see her again. She can't be your mistress … your play thing."

She looked away before she finished with a stressed tone, "I won't allow it."

Before Baran could even make a comment -- had he planned on one? -- Freeda kicked her horse back into action and rode off ahead of him … heading for the Wailing Woods.

 

[LoriDean12345]

Oops, didn't meant to post that

 

[WatchingCloud]

Barony of Gahn
Kingdom of Weston

Midday:

Like Freeda, Baran was ready to be done with the cross-country chase. He suspected they were probably safe now that they were in Weston, but he couldn't be certain. Freeda knew this area a bit better than he, so he'd deferred to her opinion on which route to take. He hoped the "people she knew" in the Wailing Woods were as good as she made out, since he was well aware of the risks that place entailed. Wild animals had long been the biggest risk, aside from getting lost in the dense, twisting and turning paths, but more recently there had been attacks by those brave enough to live in its depths.

"Teena is desperately in love with you," she said out of no where, looking to Baran. She studied him a moment, telling him, "When we get back, be honest with her. If you're not going to be faithful to her … and I'm not talking about me and you … that was … just the stress and won't happen again. I mean … when we get back to Riverbrook and my Grace gives you your title and estate … you have to make a choice. Marry Teena and make her your Lady or never see her again. She can't be your mistress … your play thing."

She looked away before she finished with a stressed tone, "I won't allow it."

Her comments had come out of nowhere, but spoke volumes about her feelings for Teena. Before he could say anything, she kicked her horse onward. Apparently, no reply was necessary.

What did he think about Teena? She'd been the one bright spot during his imprisonment at Riverbrook, both caring for his injuries and then as an enthusiastic lover. Freeda was probably right, that Teena had fallen hard for him. That didn't bother him quite as much as his uncertainty surrounding his own feelings toward her.

Oh, he liked her. Liked her a lot, and not just as a lover. He'd been able to picture her by his side when he got his title, and that hadn't changed. Was it wrong that she wasn't constantly in his mind, though? Maybe he was just slower to come around to such unrequited love. He hadn't known her for long, after all, and it had been under trying circumstances.

All he could do, as Freeda said, was be honest with her. See how things went when he was back and not a prisoner. Would they still get along? Only time would tell. Hopefully, in just a couple more days...

 

[WatchingCloud]

Greenhaven

Mid afternoon:


Trett rode ahead of his carriage with Warrick, picking the Count's brain for any information on the Wailing Woods, the Highwaymen, and what the noble had already done in response to the kidnapping. He learned that two of Warrick's guard had been found dead in the Woods late yesterday. A tracker had found evidence of another injured man, but the trail went cold before they could follow it to their hideout - assuming it had been from one of the Highwaymen.

Their arrival in Greenhaven found it dramatically changed in just the last day since they'd left. A house in the middle of what passed for the town was still smoldering after having been burnt to the ground. Milling about in the middle of town were at least twenty soldiers, including some of Ranna's personal guard and Pollania's men. They, like Ranna, must have ridden hard to have gotten here so soon after receiving word of the kidnapping.

He didn't see Ranna and asked the senior-most looking guard he could find, one who looked skeptically at Warrick's contingent of a dozen soldiers.

"Her Grace went to look after one of the surviving guards, I believe," he said.

Trett resisted rolling his eyes. Of course she had. "Well, I'm not sure I can wait much longer. Does someone know where or how far?"

The soldier said he could ask some of the locals, so Trett asked him to do so. In the meantime, he filled in Warrick. The Count was indignant, even though he wasn't the one who'd been summoned. Trett suggested he should coordinate with Ranna's soldiers on starting a search on of the nearest portion of the Woods while they waited.

The soldier soon returned and said he'd found a local who knew about where the "farmer" lived. On horseback, it'd be less than an hour. And, apparently, she'd only taken one man with her. Interesting.

Trett ordered the soldier to get the local a horse so he could escort him. When the soldier hesitated at taking orders from him, Trett reminded him that the Princess had insisted he attend her...so this was following her orders. That seemed to work and arrangements were made. He paused by his carriage to let Olean and Anya know he'd be gone for a little bit, but expected to be back by evening.

His guide was a young man by the name of Ruck, a blacksmith's apprentice without much experience on horseback. Trett was forced to keep their pace slower to keep the man from being thrown. To make better use of the time, he probed the man for more local information on how things really worked around here.

"What's the story behind the Highwaymen?" he asked.

Ruck looked uncomfortable, but answered. "Just a bunch who hide out in the woods, living off the land and occasionally stealing. Mostly from the Count."

"They kidnap and kill much?"

Ruck shrugged. "A little, I guess. Not as much as some make out, though."

Trett considered his reaction. "I spent the last day with Warrick. My impression is that he's an ass, unfit for his title. I'd almost wager a group like the Highwaymen came about in response to his foolish taxes and intolerable rule."

Trett didn't look at Ruck, but he could feel the young man's incredulous look. No doubt, he was trying to figure out if Trett was being serious or setting him up.

"Maybe. Don't right know what they were thinking. Guess I have heard that they help some people in need, though. You know, repairing homes and barns, giving out food. Rumors, all, though. Never seen em myself."

So, killers and thieves, who no doubt thought the ends justified the means. He could almost respect that, having met Warrick, but not quite. They and Warrick both deserved proper punishment. But, still, it gave him an idea.

"Princess Ranna's not going to let the attack on her people go unpunished," he said. "She's vindictive when it's in the defense of her own. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she burned down the whole damn Woods just to get them. You saw what she did to that house back in Greenhaven."

"They deserved it," Ruck said, "but, yeah, I could see that."

"I'd rather they have their day in court," Trett continued. "I'm sure they're not all guilty and, given the way Warrick runs things around here, may even be justified. If they got a fair hearing. The Princess...well, she'll just issue her own brand of justice on the spot. She didn't race all the way here for a trial."

Ruck absorbed that in silence.

"I know you don't know them, personally," Trett said. "But do you have any idea how a guy might be able to contact them? If I could reach them before her soldiers do, perhaps I could negotiate the safe release of their hostage and ensure they aren't treated unfairly. They've never seen anything like a pissed off Princess Ranna, I can assure you."

He was tempted to sweeten the suggestion with a bribe, but he thought that might actually sour his chances of getting this guy to cooperate. Appealing to the guy's animosity toward nobles, despite his own rank, seemed the better bet.

"I don't know where they camp or how to find them," Ruck said. "But, I hear that if you were to walk into the Wood just about anywhere along one of the roads and call out for them, there's a good chance you'll be heard. Don't know if it's true or not, but..."

Trett suspected the man was being truthful. Trett considered his options. It was definitely risky, but he could see any of a number of ways this could work. The Highwaymen had to be alerted to the movement of soldiers in the area and were probably getting nervous. Would they approach a lone man near the periphery of the Woods to see what he wanted? Why wouldn't they?

Trett looked to the edge of the Woods, just a couple hundred yards away. Dense and foreboding indeed, but he wasn't scared of much.

"I think it's worth a try," he said to Ruck. He tossed the lad a silver coin. "Give me an hour. If I'm not back by then, head back to Greenhaven and tell them I decided to continue on my own once you got me close to the farm house. Understood? I don't want the Princess's men knowing I'm trying to undermine her retribution."

Ruck looked at the coin, then nodded and tucked it into his belt.

Trett guided his horse into the woods, working out his plan.

 

[LoriDean12345]

(OOC: I switched to a new image for Olean. The image of her below is in her Hoshian belly dancing costume.)

Mid-afternoon

The Village of Greenhaven:

Olean and Anya stood at the entrance to the village's one and only Inn, the same establishment from which the former had heard the latter scream out in terror as she was being attacked the earlier day. As they watched, Trett rode away with a single man -- notably not a soldier -- while Count Warrick and his 12 Guardsmen remained behind.

"I don't understand," Anya asked Olean quietly. "Why are the Count's men not accompanying Lord Trett?"

Olean initially shrugged, a habit her mistress Princess Victoria had been figuratively -- and sometimes literally -- trying to beat out of her for years. She finally explained what she knew about Trett's responsibilities, Warrick's own, his men's responsibility to protect the latter and not the former … and then added, "Who knows what goes through the minds of men."

Warrick put the Captain of his own Guard to work talking with locals about these Highwaymen from the Wailing Woods, then he himself headed for the Inn, stopping to invite the ladies in for dinner and drinks. The way he looked Anya up and down disturbed her; it did Olean, as well, who very politely and diplomatically pointed out that the pair of them were not available for his … entertainment.

The Count glared for a moment, then went inside without waiting for them. The two young sex servants giggled together for a moment, then decided to take a walk instead. They stayed away from the creek at which Anya had very nearly been raped, instead walking out toward one of the fields in which the Autumn harvest was still underway.

As they spoke, they realized that neither of them had ever very much enjoyed the winter. Anya had some traumatic memories of harsh winters on the family farm in Northern Parse, on the frontier with the Kingdom of the Highlands; and Olean -- who had spent her first handful of years before being taken by slavers -- had lived in the tropical islands of what had been the Hoshian Empire and still, all these years later, had never gotten used to the cold at all, let alone during winter.

"The winters in the more Western parts of the continent are warmer … milder," Olean promised Anya, who had never been farther west than Riverbrook until now. "You will enjoy it."

"As a sex slave to Lord Trett," Anya murmured under her breath, not sure whether she'd said it for the other woman or for herself. They talked a moment about the younger woman's new life for a moment before Anya asked, "Will Lord Trett keep me in his home … away from Lady Victo--"

"Princess Victoria," Olean corrected her, reminding her that the younger princess reacted harshly at being reminded that she was only second in line for the crown to the Kingdom. She went on, "Lord Trett purchased you to serve him personally. You will likely live in his home … be given a position as a House Servant, one that will keep you close to his bed chamber. Everyone in his home will know that when he is at his home and not at Princess Victoria's … they will know where you will sleep those nights, in his bed. Most will know better than to speak of it. But some will resent you, particularly whatever young thing or things had been keeping Lord Trett and his bed warm before you."

"There were women other than Lady-- than Princess Victoria before me?" Anya asked innocently.

Olean laughed. "There were women before you … there will be women after you. There may even be other women while you are his woman. I wouldn't be surprised to find that Lord Trett brings other women to his bed while you are in it, too."

Anya laughed nervously and asked more questions about such intimate things as their walk took them along the edge of the field. One of the Count's men rode up to them, announcing with haste, "The Count is returning to home. Please return to the Inn."

Both women were surprised by this development and hurried as best they could in their long gowns to the town square. They learned that a messenger had arrived with news of an attack in the north of the county, near the Highland frontier; that Warrick and all of his men were leaving immediately; and that the two women would be left in the care of the Inn Keeper.

"I can't stay here alone," Anya whispered to Olean in panic, remembering what had happened her just the day before.

"We won't be alone," the older woman reassured her, gesturing to the forces from Countess Pollania's Guard and Princess Ranna's Bodyguard. "And Lord Trett will return before dark as well."

As they watched, Warrick and his men rode off up the road again. The pair of women went inside, to eat, drink, and make comfort in the rooms Trett had arranged.

They had both laid their heads down for a rest and were awoken by the Inn Keeper's daughter when she entered to tend the fire. That was when the girl spoke of the departure of the soldiers.

"Count Warrick's Guard, you mean?" Olean asked, misunderstanding.

"No, the soldiers from Riverbrook, my lady," the girl said. "A man who rode into the forest with Princess Ranna … he returned, gathered the men, and they all left … for the Breck Farm."

Olean and Anya both donned their boots and dresses and rushed outside to find that the girl was right; there wasn't a soldier to be seen in any direction. Olean asked the girl why Princess Ranna's man and Lord Trett hadn't spoken and then left some men behind.

"I overheard them," the girl said. "I heard nothing about the two men meeting in the woods. The trail to the Cami's farm -- Camilla, Breck -- the trail splits and joins again. Maybe they passed each other...?"

Olean couldn't believe this. They -- she and Anya -- had been abandoned. Trett thought Warrick was protecting them, and William likely hadn't known anything about them, or simply hadn't cared. No, William would have cared about Anya; the younger woman was Countess Pollania's secret servant and -- unbeknownst to Olean -- a descendant of the Burkinian Diaspora. No, this was simply a case of no one knowing that the two women were alone here.

"We will wait," Olean told Anya with a reassuring tone when the girl asked what they were going to do. "We will just wait … until Lord Trett or Lord William return for us."

 

[LoriDean12345]

Nalla's Hut
Edge of the Wailing Woods
Southwest of the Village of Greenhaven:

Camilla had located Nalla's hut easy enough, having been their twice before to seek the Healer's aid when her mother had been ill. She had hoped that Nalla would be there but instead found the hut vacant. She searched around for medicines that might keep Walton alive -- not knowing the man was already deceased -- but then realized that she had no idea what it was that she was seeking.

She ran outside, searching for any sign of the Healer and screaming out loud for her several times. Then, with the knowledge that the Thicket -- surely Nalla's current location -- was off to the west of the hut, Camilla ran off into the woods following the most obvious trail.

Within half a mile, that particular trail would turn southwest … away from the hut, from the Thicket, and from all who knew that the young girl was in the forest alone...



Sometime later:

Ranna stopped her horse at the edge of the woods as they thinned and finally ended. The hut before her had to be that of the Healer, this Nalla of whom Lonna had spoken. It was a quaint little property, with a small but seemingly warm and dry hut; a chicken coop; a small but high-fenced pasture in which were goats and an animal called an alpaca, which Ranna had only seen once before in her life; and a large garden that -- because of the variety of plants and trees in it -- almost looked to be more wild than cultivated and tended.

The door of the hut opened, and a young man emerged. Ranna had been under the impression that this healer lived alone. She urged her horse forward slowly, spotted immediately by the boy who turned and fled beyond the hut before Ranna had any idea he was about to do so.

Ranna continued until she was before the hut, then called out to the boy. She reassured him she was not going to harm him, said she was looking for Nalla, and that she was also searching for a young girl who had been heading this way.

"She was here! the boy called from somewhere in the trees.

"Can you tell me where she is now?"

Seeming to come from a different location, as if the boy was on the move, he answered without much specificity, "She went into the woods."

"She's looking for Nalla, I think," Ranna called. "And the Highwaymen. Can you help me find her?"

There was a long silence. Ranna continued, "Please, can you help me find her."

Again from a different location came, "You want me to help you find the Thicket."

Ranna didn't know what the Thicket was, but she assumed -- correctly -- that it was the hideout of the Highwaymen. She answered, "No, I don't care about the Thicket. I want you to help me find my friend, Camilla. Her mother is worried and concerned. Camilla's betrothed has died and--"

Causing Ranna to flinch in surprise as he spoke from directly behind her, just twenty yards away, Cable informed her, "Your friend is lost."

"What does that mean?"

"Your friend is lost," Cable repeated. "She took the wrong trail. She is going the wrong way … toward the Barren Lands."

Now, Ranna found herself in a dilemma. She had told the Breck woman that she would find Camilla. But, in all honesty, Ranna had been hoping the girl would lead her to the Highwaymen who had killed Walton and kidnapped Chloe. Now, she had to make a choice: possibly save the girl from becoming lost in the Woods or possibly locate the Thicket and dispense some justice.

"Will you help me find my friend?" she asked sweetly. It wasn't an entirely benevolent decision; Ranna knew the boy would not lead her to the Thicket. "What's your name?"

When Cable didn't answer, she continued, "My friend's name is Camilla. And I am Ranna."

Suddenly, the boy rushed off past the hut and into the forest. Ranna wasn't sure whether he was running away or leading her until he called out from deep in the woods, "Come! Come! Find friend!"

Ranna urged her horse into action, and off she went.

 

[WatchingCloud]

Inside the edge of the Wailing Woods

Mid-Afternoon:

Silas was growing increasingly concerned with their situation. Earlier in the morning, he and Miggs had spotted nearly two dozen armed men, presumably belonging to either Princess Ranna or Countess Pollania, riding through the Wailing Woods on the way to Greenhaven. That was on top of however many Count Warrick had scouring the woods, a handful of whom they'd already crossed paths with. The Highwaymen had ambushed a few noble's carriages and wagons in the past, but never one that had prompted such a large response. Miggs had cautioned Kitts against going too far. Silas had encouraged boldness. He was wondering if the older Miggs hadn't been right.

While Miggs returned to the Thicket with an update on the movement of troops, Silas had followed discretely. He noted the addition of additional Warrick soldiers in Greenhaven and then the peculiar departure of one man of apparent standing alone with a local boy. Blacksmith's apprentice, he thought, though he couldn't remember the kid's name. Intrigued, he paralleled them from the woods.

His instincts payed off when he saw the pair stop less than an hour from Greenhaven and converse quietly. The apprentice finally nodded and waited while the other man (not currently in armor, but fine riding leathers) turned his horse and went straight into the Wailing Woods. Very curious, he thought. Silas followed from a distance, unseen and unheard, until the man found a trail and went about half a mile deeper.

"Highwaymen!"

Even Silas was startled by the man's shout, a commanding voice used to carrying great distances.

"If one of you can hear me, come," the guy continued. "I come alone and will not draw my weapon. I seek only to make an offer. It will be very much worth your time."

Silas' heart pounded. Could he possibly have been noticed? The man wasn't facing his direction, but he might be pretending. Silas was confident the man was alone, though, and he saw no evidence he carried a bow or other ranged weapon. On horseback, alone in these woods, no one was a match for one of the Highwaymen. Probably.

What could the man possibly want? Was this a representative, here to find out what the ransom demands were? Or to threaten them into returning Chloe without payment? He wasn't the first or second or likely even third man in the company who should handle such negotiations, but Kitts was down and no one else was likely anywhere near by.

"Is anyone out there? I need to speak!"

Curiosity and concern about the evolving situation got the better of him. Silas urged his mount slowly forward until finding a dense patch of undergrowth from which he could just make out the man but which would completely obscure himself.

"Then speak, intruder!" Silas called out. The man's head snapped in his direction and he squinted, looking.

"To whom to I speak?"

"Give me your name first, stranger."

The man smiled and shrugged. "Maybe best we keep our names to ourselves. Do you speak for the Highwaymen?"

"I might. I might not. What's it to you?"

"Princess Ranna has brought a lot of men to retrieve her lost Lady and punish those responsible for the deaths of her men. I know her well. Her wrath is nothing like that of Warrick's."

Silas felt a tremble in the pit of his stomach. Who was this guy and what was he up to? Worse, he believed the man's words.

When Silas didn't respond, the man continued. "She'll settle for nothing less than each and every one of your deaths, by hanging if not the sword. There will be no negotiation, no ransom. Any pretense of negotiating will be simply to assess your strength before attacking."

"Why are you telling me this?"

The man looked around, almost as if expecting someone else to be listening in on their conversation. He then continued. "I don't care about your little band, but our interests overlap for the moment. Princess Ranna, at this very moment, is nearby and almost unprotected. Kill her and I'll pay you one thousand gold crowns."

Silas was grateful the man couldn't see him or his reaction. A thousand? The entire band could move away and live in luxury for a decade on that kind of money. It was almost absurd. No one but a noble could pay that. But...this man had the look and demeanor. Was this a noble looking to take out another for personal gain? That made sense to Silas and he could see the way the man was thinking -make it look like criminals had killed her rather than one of her peers. Could very much be worth the money. It was far more than they dared hope to get in ransom for Chloe.

"You still there?" the man called.

"Yes," Silas said. "How can I trust you?"

"You probably can't," the man said. "But even if you didn't get a single coin, you know it's in your best interest to investigate what I said. And it's definitely worth the chance."

Silas considered. Even if it was a trap to draw him out, he would know it and be able to give any pursuit the slip in the Woods, especially with night a few hours away.

"Where is she? And how would I get paid?"

The man smiled. "She was headed to some farm house. Guy by the name of Breck."

Silas knew the name, had helped the family. Why would the princess go there, though? It seemed oddly specific to be made up.

"If you manage this thing, your payment will be waiting at the Black Fox Inn near Pinelost. On the night of the next new moon, ask the inn keep for a bottle of his worst red. Understood?"

Silas wondered if he could do this himself. Take the money, live like a king. He didn't know if he could get Kitts to agree to something like this, let alone the entire band. And rounding them up quick enough to catch her mostly unprotected? It was tempting, but he didn't know he was up to it. Killing men, guards, had been one thing. Assassinating a woman?

"I heard," he called back. "I'll consider it."

"Consider fast," the man said. He then reached for something and hung a small bag on a branch. "Good faith down payment. Sorry I didn't plan ahead to bring more."

Silas watched as the man turned his horse and headed back the way he came. For a long while after he was out of sight, he didn't move. Finally, certain the area was clear, he rode forward and found the bag. Inside was at least fifty gold and twice that much silver. More than he'd earned in his entire life.

What the hell was he going to do next?

 

[WatchingCloud]

Breck Farm

Late afternoon:

It didn't take too long for Trett to find the farm. There was only one road worth mentioning headed this direction, a dirt road, and the couple farmers he passed once it diverted away from the Wailing Woods pointed him in the right direction. When he arrived, however, things were out of sorts. There was no evidence of Ranna or any of her men here. Was this a set up after all?

Trett had been fixated on whether the highwaymen would actually take him up on the offer, he hadn't considered all the ways it could go wrong. As he approached, a woman opened the door to hold it for two men who were carrying what could only be a blanket draped body between then. They noticed him, but said nothing until gently depositing it in the back of a nearby cart. That couldn't be Ranna, there hadn't been time. Her guard, perhaps?

"I seek Princess Ranna," he said when the men finished and gave him their attention.

The younger of the two, a hard worked late thirties man, looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, sir, but you missed her. She, uh, went into the woods in search of my daughter. Against my warning, of course!"

The other man, an old priest by the look of him, nodded in agreement.

Into the woods? Trett suppressed a grin. The fool might just have gotten herself killed without his enticement. If he'd held off, he could have saved himself a considerable sum. If he was going to actually pay it.

But now what should he do? Wait here in case she came back, or return to Greenhaven? The farmer filled him in, briefly, on what had happened, including the unexpected death and the princess’s other man going back to Greenhaven for her soldiers. Trett grumbled. That would complicate things if they got here before the highwaymen could act.

He considered going after Ranna himself. If he found her alone, he could kill her and blame the criminals. But there would always be suspicion on him. If he waited and she died, he had witnesses to his innocence. The noble thing to do would be to look after the Heir Apparent. To maintain appearances, he thanked the farmer, got rough directions to follow, and set out after Ranna.

 

[WatchingCloud]

The Thicket

Nightfall:

Kitts had managed to get some quality rest throughout the day, physically, at least. Mentally and emotionally, he was torn. Chloe leaving just felt wrong, despite it being right in every imaginable sense. Nalla spoke the truth, though he couldn't quite bring himself to believe it. He felt like there was a chance to make things right and if he didn't grab it at just the right moment, he'd lose it forever. But when and what was that chance?

Chloe had sequestered herself away in the cave, using his little private passage while he stayed out by the fire. The way she'd taken to their group, the children in particular...maybe she, too, didn't want to risk getting even more attached before she would leave in the morning.

Their guest did appear at dinner time, however, and he could tell she'd taken things hard. Was he so full of himself to think it had anything to do with him when she'd been given the news that her betrothed was alive and likely to recover? It would be easier if he could believe that.

"May I?" Kitts asked Chloe, gingerly taking a seat on the bench beside her, bowl of hearty stew in hand.

She politely inquired about how his leg was doing and he said it was much improved, thanks of course to her treatment and helping him exercise it earlier. Chloe insisted Nalla had done the important bits. Neither said anything about anything important, which resulted in a long silence as they watched the children play after hurrying through their meals.

Kitts caught Nalla give him a look before she disappeared off into the woods to do who knows what.

"Lady Chloe?" He spoke softly, still unsure exactly what he wanted to say.

"Yes?"

"If...I don't know. This probably sounds foolish, but if something every happened and you needed a safe haven... I just want you to know you're always welcome here."

There was a look in her eye, something profound. He knew what he wanted her to say, what he wanted to hear, but before he could say anything, a voice called to him from across the clearing.

"Kitts!" Silas jumped from his winded horse, handing the reins to a boy, and hurried across the clearing. "We need to talk."

"What is it?" Kitts asked, knowing it had to be important from the man's demeanor.

Silas glanced at Chloe, then said. "Alone."

Kitts looked between the two, frowned, and then got up with the aid of his crutch. "Excuse me a minute, my lady."

He followed Silas a short distance off into the woods, at which point Silas filled him in on not only the troop movements seen this morning, but also his strange encounter with the man and his huge offer to kill Princess Ranna at the Breck farm. So she'd found where her injured guard had made it. But who was offering to have her killed? It was a phenomenal sum, but he'd lost his taste for killing nobles or their guards after this episode.

"What do we do?" Silas asked. Kitts got the sense he was actually asking about whether they would take the offer, not what they should do with the news.

"We're not killing her, that's for certain," Kitts said. "No reward is worth bringing the entire King's Army down on us. Any idea who this man was?"

"No," Silas said, concealing whatever feelings he might have on Kitts' decision. "Didn't say. Not entirely sure I would recognize him, either. There was quite a distance between us."

Kitts nodded. "Okay, thanks. Think you could make a night run down that way, see what's going on?"

"Sure, sir," Silas said.

Kitts looked him in the eye. "No freelancing, right?"

The lack of incredulity in Silas' expression said it had crossed his mind, but probably not seriously. A night alone in the woods could bring a man to imagine a lot of things, though. Silas agreed and hurried off to grab a hot meal before returning to the woods at night.

Kitts found Chloe still on the bench. He owed her an explanation.

"Your Grace has apparently arrived in person," he said. "She found your...betrothed...apparently."

He let that sink in for a moment.

"Also, someone is seeking our help in killing her. No idea who or why, just... I want you to know we won't. Again, anything you can do or say to help keep us out of harm's way when you meet back up with her in the morning..."

 

[WatchingCloud]

Southern Walking Woods

Dusk:

Baran hasn't been thrilled with the idea of spending the night in the Wailing Woods. While he was fairly confident the infamous banshees were nothing more than a noisy and harmless native animal, there were some larger cats and a criminal element was known to hide in its mucky depths. Freeda claimed she knew people, but if they stumbled upon the wrong kind in the dark, that might not matter much.

As the sun dropped, the woods became dark unnaturally quick. He and Freeda had finally found a suitable small clearing near a brook in which to set up camp. Freeda was filling their skins and preparing food while he scavenged for dry fire wood. His ears perked, not at a specific sound but rather at the lack of one - the night insects and frogs had been disturbed by something.

It might have just been him or Freeda, but he froze and listened carefully. No, something was walking nearby and making an unusual sound. Sniffling?

Baran set the wood down quietly, drew his sword, and crept back toward the trail. Just as he reached it, he spotted a young woman frantically hurrying along, clearly in distress. There was no way to get her attention without frightening her, so he did his best to soften the blow by clearing his throat. Predictably, she shrieked.

"Easy miss," he said, sheathing his sword and holding his hands out to his sides. "Didn't mean to startle you, but you seemed to be in distress. You okay?"

She looked at him both warily and with relief. Even in the near dark, he could tell she was pretty, despite a number of scratches across her face and hands.

"I'm... I'm lost," she said. "Are you one of the highwaymen?"

"No, just a traveler."

She looked disappointed, which Baran found odd. Freeda, sword drawn, came running over.

"This is Freeda and I'm Baran," he said. "We're about to start a fire and have a little dinner. You can join us, tell us where you're from and how you got lost out here. Maybe we can help you find your way."

 

[LoriDean12345]

Breck Farm

Late afternoon:

"I seek Princess Ranna," the man said.

Lonna had been studying the rider, trying to identify him. His colors and crest were unknown to her, not that that really meant much; like her daughter, she rarely if ever got far from the homestead and probably couldn't wouldn't have known the local Counts and their supervising Baron, let alone any of the Royals who -- of course -- all lived in the Capital City far to the west on the opposite side of the Wailing Woods.

All but Princess Ranna, Lonna reminded herself. Over the years, while gossiping with her neighbors or while trading goods in Greenhaven, she'd heard the stories of the young Royal who had fled her home after her mother's death to live with her maternal grandmother, the Countess Pollania of Riverbrook. They were romantic tales but sad ones at the same time. Lonna couldn't imagine Camilla running off to live elsewhere should she die and leave the poor girl with Ricken.

And yet the tales weren't of a sad, lonely girl living out her days walking the open fields or sitting on the edge of a babbling brook sobbing or staring down from a tower window while the world below her went on without her. No, it was told that Ranna had become a warrior princess, that she'd learned to ride and fight and had even led men -- led men! -- into battle, killing the enemy, bringing justice to the downtrodden, even rescuing poor defenseless children from wicked, vicious, slavers.

Of course, how was Lonna to know whether any of this was true? All she'd seen when the Princess passed through was a young woman on a horse who'd shown grace in promising Camilla's safe return. But that had been enough for Lonna to believe any tall tale told about the young Royal.

She listened in as Ricken filled in the mounted man, who was surely a Guardsman or Bodyguard or Noble loyal to the Princess, right? The man thanked Ricken and turned his horse to follow after Ranna. Quickly, Lonna called out, "Please, my lord. Find them … find them both. You are a good man. Thank you, my lord, and always know you are welcome to find food and comfort here."

She lifted a hand to give him a wave, but the man barely even looked back over his shoulder to acknowledge Lonna. As she watched her husband and the priest return to dealing with Walton's body, she told them confidently, "He seemed like a very noble man. I'm sure he will find Camilla and the Princess and keep them safe."

If only she knew Trett's true intentions toward Ranna … and, likely, his apathy toward Camilla.



The Thicket

Nightfall:

Chloe had had every intention of remaining in the cave until dawn, when Nalla would whisk her away back to civilization … and she would again be with her love and lover, Walton … and she would be away from this scoundrel, Kitts … with whom she was in danger of falling in love.

But, of course, it was her need to speak to him one last time that led her out of the cave to the fire, where she knew she would see him … and tempt fate. Kitts invited her to return to The Thicket should she ever have a need … or desire. Chloe was contemplating a response when Silas pulled Kitts away. Chloe assumed the urgency -- and privacy -- had something to do with her imprisonment.

She had no idea the Wailing Woods were on the verge of becoming a battle field between the Highwaymen and the forces of two, three, possibly four or more Houses. Chloe was just a Lady in Waiting, after all; no one would ever employ such force just to find her, would they?

When Kitts returned, he informed her, "Your Grace has apparently arrived in person."

Chloe's eyes bulged as she looked to the Highwayman. He continued, "She found your...betrothed...apparently."

She turned to face Kitts, asking excitedly, "He's alive...? Is he safe, will he be safe … will he live?"

Kitts didn't share anymore information than that, though Chloe couldn't know whether it was because he didn't with to share or didn't know. After a moment, he changed the subject, telling Chloe that some man or men were trying to kill Princess Ranna. Her stomach turned over at that news, even more so that not knowing Walton's situation.

"I want you to know we won't."

Chloe looked to Kitts again, smiling a bit through the horror overwhelming her. She said almost in a whisper, "Thank you, Kitts."

Returning to what she had promised him about her own kidnapping, "Again, anything you can do or say to help keep us out of harm's way when you meet back up with her in the morning..."

"If you promise my Grace will not be harmed," Chloe began, not showing any concern for her own safety, "I promise I will do all I can protect you and your people."

She repeated her earlier vow to tell Ranna -- or what ever authority found them -- that she had been rescued from a different group of scoundrels by Kitts and the Wailing Woods Highwaymen. "You will be hailed as heroes, Kitts. I promise."

She looked away, hesitating as she tried to wade through her feelings for Walton … and her feelings for Kitts. Unable to look him in the eye, Chloe told Kitts, "I thank you for your gracious offer … about returning to the Thicket. I … despite being a hostage..."

Chloe glanced to Kitts and smiled before looking away and continuing, "...I have enjoyed myself here."

Her smile faded as her tone became more serious again. "I must return to Riverbrook. I must return to my Grace's service … and … I must return to my dear Walton … my betrothed."

She could have continued, could have spoke of her love for Walton and their dreams of having a life together. But, it just seemed so … awkward, speaking of such things with the Guardsman when she was sitting next to the man with whom she yearned to get naked and reach for great heights of ecstasy.

"I need sleep," she said, suddenly rising and turning away from him. She was on the verge of tears as she called over her shoulder, "Thank you, Kitts. Thank you for all you have done for me."

She lifted the front hem of her dress as she rushed away.

Standing nearby, Nalla had been inconspicuously listening. She waited until Chloe was in the cave before moving to her brother. She only said to him, "She needs to go home, Kitts."



Southern Wailing Woods

Dusk:

With the forces of Pratt no longer on their the tail here in the Kingdom of Weston, Freeda and Baran had gotten farther than she'd expected. They'd left the Barren Lands of the Barony of Gahn and entered the Wailing Woods. Of course, it was still too early to know whether they were still in Gahn to the south, Parse to the northeast, or Weston to the northwest. (map) But right now, it didn't much matter in which Barony they were, only that they were once again in the Kingdom of Weston and safe … or, at least, safer.

They'd gone as far as they could today, though. The forest was getting too thick for nighttime travel, and the horses were exhausted. They found a clearing in which their rides could relax, eat some green grass, and reach the stream for a drink. It was a beautiful night, peaceful without the fear of being set upon by enemy forces. In the far distance, she heard a scream rolling over the forested hills.

Banshee, she thought. She'd never determined herself what actually made the sound; a ferocious beast, a man pretending to be such? There were some who said it was caused by the occasional winds that cut down through a canyon in the midst of the Woods, a sort of whistle that was mutated into something frightening as it echoes through the rocks and into the forest. There was no way of knowing without one day facing the beast, man, or crevasse itself.

The scream repeated a second time, so far away that it could have come from the other side of the world. The nearer sounds were more soothing; frogs, owls, crickets, and any number of other insects.

But then, suddenly, most of those creatures went silent. Freeda looked about herself, then looked to Baran; he had his sword out. She pulled her own dagger, uncertain of what was happening but most definitely certain that Baran was.

Suddenly, a figure burst out of the foliage, startling Freeda and the horses, too. She couldn't see that it was a woman and only knew that after Baran called out, "Easy miss."

"I'm... I'm lost," she said. "Are you one of the highwaymen?"

"No, just a traveler."

By now, Freeda had neared enough to see the woman clearly in the growing flames of the fire Baran had built. He introduced them to the woman -- barely more than a girl, actually -- and invited her to sit and eat.

"Maybe we can help you find your way."

Freeda was wary, not only because the girl had appeared from out of the woods in the dark but because she had asked about the Highwaymen with what has sounded like a hopeful tone. Freeda had never personally had any dealings with the men from the Thicket, but she'd dealt with them indirectly; she knew just enough about them to know she wouldn't want to find herself surrounded by them in their woods at night.

"I was looking for the Thicket," the girl continued, explaining very briefly that it was the home of the Highwaymen before explaining that she was actually looking for a healer named Nalla. "My betrothed is dying, and I need her."

Between them, Freeda and Baran reassured the girl -- who gave her name -- that they would help her find this healer, but when she stressed that they needed to go now, Freeda told her, "We must wait for morning, Camilla. It's too dangerous to travel the Wailing Woods at night. And neither of us really know where
we are."

The girl argued that they had to go now for several minutes, until Freeda almost forced her to sit near the fire with a blanket around her shoulders to rest. Ironically, once Camilla had some food and water in her, she reclined right over against Freeda's saddle … and passed out.

"I know about these Highwaymen of the Wailing Woods," Freeda told Baran after the girl was sound asleep. "I know we told the girl we'd help her, but … I think we would be better off to simply get Camilla back to her home … and get back to Riverbrook ourselves."

They chatted some more before Freeda said they needed some sleep themselves. One of them took watch.

 

[WatchingCloud]

The Thicket

Nightfall:


"Thank you, Kitts. Thank you for all you have done for me."

Kitts watched in confusion as Chloe hurried away. She'd basically thanked him for her time her, after having kidnapped her and nearly killed her betrothed. She promised not only to protect them but do so in a way that would make them out to be heroes. He knew she was falling for him as he was for her, which hurt all the more because she should leave.

When she was gone in the cave, Nalla came up beside him. "She needs to go home, Kitts."


Kitts found himself annoyed with her opinion and snapped. "Why? For her sake or yours?"

He stared at her and lowered his voice to a whisper. "You think the universe gave you all the answers just because we fucked?"

Kitts regretted saying the words, despite his irritation with her. But he didn't take them back. Instead, he snatched up his crutch and wandered off into the woods to get some quiet and stew in his own thoughts.


Southern Wailing Woods

Night:

Trett cursed himself, Ranna, and the damn wayward girl for the hundredth time. He'd gone into the woods along the trail the farmer had indicated, but soon the branches in the trail blurred together and dusk fell quickly and before he knew it he was lost. Not having planned on an overnight excursion, he had no camping gear, little food, and nothing with which to start a fire. He might have just found a small spot to tie up the horse and doze, but unnerving screeches picked up and both he and his horse were spooked. He vaguely recalled stories about the Wailing Woods - banshees? - but he had no idea what they actually were. Sword gripped tightly, he made his way very slowly along what seemed to be a path, trying to follow the moon when he could catch a glimpse of the thin sliver.

Would it be too much to hope that Ranna was also lost in these woods? Maybe she'd been found and eaten by one of those banshees? It was a nice thought, but would he live through the night to hear about it?

It felt as if he'd been walking all night, but the conditions probably only made it seem that way. When he paused to try to find the moon through the dense canopy, Trett was startled to realize he could see another light - a fire - in the distance. His heart leapt. Had he nearly stumbled upon the highwaymen? Or Ranna? Someone else altogether?

Trett didn't trust his ability to find his horse again in the dark if he tied it up, so he got off and led it very slowly toward the fire, desperate for answers and possibly safety in numbers against the creatures of the night. He didn't close half the distance...

#

Baran took the first watch, facing away from the fire to preserve what night vision he could. He occasionally stole a glance at the sleeping Freeda and Camilla, wondering what the morning would bring. Hopefully, they could safely hand off the girl quickly and be on their way.

The banshee cries continued infrequently, but never seemed to get too close to their camp. He hoped they stayed that way, not eager to find out what really made them. For the second time that night, however, the insects and frogs ceased their chirping...from one direction. Baran's eyes probed the darkness but saw nothing. Could be any of a number of things, from a wolf or cat to a family of raccoons. Or a highwayman.

Baran considered waking Freeda, but didn't want to interrupt her short sleep if it was nothing more than a passing critter. He took his sword and slipped quietly through the woods in a slightly different direction from the absence of sound. His training in night time operations came back, as if he'd never stopped making deep raids in various terrain against the enemy under cover of darkness.

Rustling of leaves and snapping of small twigs soon told Baran that it was no animal he faced. A person. Then a snort of a horse. Highwayman? He needed to see if it was one or more people. Silent as a cat, dark as a shadow, he circled around behind the sound and soon found it was a lone man leading a horse toward their fire. Had it been an attack, he'd have expected the highwaymen to leave the horses behind.

He slipped up behind the man and placed the tip of his sword into the small of his back. "Make a sudden move and you die," he said, barely above a whisper in case the man wasn't alone. To his credit, the guy froze.

"Are you alone?" Baran asked.

The man hesitated, then replied. "Yes."

Baran took in the man's traveling clothes and his horse's kit. This was not a highwayman. A noble or officer, more likely. One of the princesses' men? Why would they be out, alone, in the woods?

"Move, slowly," he said, prodding the guy toward the fire. As they got close, he cleared his throat loud enough to startle Freeda awake. He didn't want to use her name yet. Camilla, meanwhile, didn't so much as break her steady breathing.

"Found someone sneaking up on us," Baran said. He got the sense Freeda knew exactly who this someone was, judging by the way her eyes widened.

 

[LoriDean12345]

The Thicket

Nightfall:

With Chloe hurrying off to hide herself from Kitts once again, her emotions tangled and her mind simply wanting out of the Thicket before her heart convinced her to stay; and with Nalla telling her brother that the Lady In Waiting had to leave this place for the betterment of all; Kitts snapped at his sister about her motivations for seeing Chloe leave, "Why? For her sake or yours?"

She didn't immediately understand and therefore didn't respond. Kitts followed up quickly, though, with a whispered, "You think the universe gave you all the answers just because we fucked?"

Nalla's stomach turned over, not just at the words but in the manner and tone in which her brother had spoken them. She could see in his eyes that he regretted saying the words, despite his irritation with her. But he didn't take them back. Instead, he snatched up his crutch and wandered off into the woods to get some quiet and stew in his own thoughts.

The healer-witch only watched in silence as he departed. What had happened between them so long ago would stick with them for the rest of their lives. Nalla knew that; Kitts knew that. She'd felt guilty so many, many times for having taken advantage of her brother that night: she'd drugged him, she'd fucked him, and -- as an indirect result -- she'd deprived him of the first woman Nalla suspected Kitts had ever truly loved.

She turned away from the fire to go check on Chloe, who she found in her cave loft once again crying. She tried to sooth the young woman, who was actually just about her own age, but to no avail; Chloe was caught up in a whirlwind of emotions that would only be calmed once she'd left this place. As she considered that, though, Nalla couldn't help but wonder whether or not even then the winds would die down.

If she'd known Walton had died, Nalla would have been truly uncertain of what to do.

Morning would come soon enough...

 

[LoriDean12345]

Southern Wailing Woods

Night:

When out in the world, Freeda didn't typically sleep as soundly as she had been this evening. It was a credit to Baran, as her confidence and trust in her traveling partner had grown to the point where she didn't fear waking up to a knife being pressed against her throat … his or someone else's. Ironic, considering that just a couple of weeks earlier she had been pounding in his face in the dungeon of Riverbrook House after he'd attempted to kill her Grace.

She jerked awake now, though, pulling the dagger out from under her bedding before she could even be considered truly conscious and aware. She found the now familiar appearance of Baran in the flickering light of the fire, and with him another familiar face … Lord Trett of Weston … the Protector and Lover of Lady Victoria … Princess Ranna's sister.

"Found someone sneaking up on us," Baran said.

What the fuck...? Freeda thought as she rose to her feet and began looking about herself. There was no one else here; Freeda saw no one, and the ever capable Baran gave no indication that he feared there were others. She looked back to Trett, studying him for a moment while she thought back to her previous dealings with the man.

Her first concern, of course, was wondering whether he would know who she was, as she did him. But Freeda had never met the man face to face, and -- after a moment of recollection -- was certain he'd never laid eyes upon her either. Had he? She decided to go with no, he hadn't and see how things played out.

"I am Reeka," she said, looking for Trett's reaction. Seeing none, she nodded to Baran, saying without giving him a name that might contradict what he had said, "And you have already met my partner. What are you doing out her, noble man?"

Freeda spoke those last two words with a tone of disdain … still holding her dagger before her as if she was prepared to rob him … or worse.

 

[LoriDean12345]

The Village of Greenhaven:

"But, you saw us arrive with Count Warrick," Olean was repeating once again to the Inn Keeper. "We arrived with the Count … and with Lord Trett. You know who he is, don't you...? He is the Protector and Chief Advisor to Princess Victoria of--"

"Yes, I know who Lord Trett is, and yes, I know who Count Warrick is," the man said as he moved about the packed tavern dealing with an inordinate number of patrons. He continued with his annoyed tone, "And if either of them were standing here asking me for a room, they would each or either most certainly get one. But you aren't Count Warrick or Lord Trett!"

"But we arrived with them--"

"And they left without you!" the Inn Keeper snapped turning so suddenly to face the trailing Olean that they literally ran into one another. After the strange woman back a step, he continued with a quieter but still firm tone, "That tells me … that you must not be that important to them."

Olean's eyes and mouth opened wide in shock … then her expression began mutating toward anger. "I … am servant to Princess Victoria...! Second daughter of the King of Weston--!"

"And I...!" the Inn Keeper cut in with his volume again loud, before again going quieter to finish, "Am the King of Weston."

Olean knew what the man was insinuating: if you can't prove who you are, you aren't who you say you are. She clenched her jaw as the Inn Keeper again turned to deal with his patrons. The activities in Greenhaven this day had had a great affect on the townsfolk, the rural neighbors, and even those passing through town. No one was entirely certain what was going to happen here now.

The Sheriff and the wanna-be nobles -- whose home was still smoldering at one end of town -- had been exiled, along with the latter's armed men. There was a power vacuum now, and some of the townsfolk feared that -- unprotected -- they would become targets of criminals.

Some feared that the Highwaymen would begin attacking the wagons moving between Greenhaven, other towns, and the farms that supplied both. Most of the locals, though, had had nothing but good interactions with the people from the Thicket and said if anything, the Highwaymen would protect them. (Ironically, some of the Highwaymen had come from Greenhaven, run out by Count Warrick and his tax collector for unpaid land use fees.)

A couple of the wanna-be nobles' men had come back to town after the soldiers had left. They'd caught some dirty looks from the locals, people who had been illegally taxed by them. But the men swore they'd only been doing their job, and they reminded the locals that they'd protected the town from thieves, so, legally assigned the job of Guardsmen or not, they'd still done their best to help the people of Greenhaven. The argument must have worked, because someone had found them a table in the back, bought them drinks, and sat down with them to ask their opinion of the town's future.

It did seem a bit of a scary future at the moment: no one was protecting Greenhaven at the moment. Princess Ranna's Bodyguard had departed; under the direction of an officer called William, they'd headed off toward the Breck farm a couple of hours before dark. Just before they'd left, a second group of soldiers had arrived, these members of the Guard of Countess Pollania. They, too, had departed, taking a cart trail that went due west deeper into the Wailing Woods, toward where many thought the Thicket was located, though of course, no one in Greenhaven had ever been there.

Count Warrick had been the first to pull out his troops. Hell, they'd been gone before William returned or the Guard arrived. The greedy noble had heard of trouble up north near his home and split with all his men, leaving Olean and Anya behind without a thought.

So, here the two young servants were, standing in the middle of a packed tavern, surrounded by strangers who -- other than giving them innumerably ogles, air kisses, and dirty suggestions -- didn't seem to give a lick about who they were.

"Can't we just pay for a room and go upstairs," Anya asked with a timid voice as she caught up with Olean. She practically leaped off the ground as a patrol pinched her ass, then laughed hysterically with his buddies. She sounded like a child lost in the forest as she pleaded, "I don't like it down here."

"We have no money, Anya," Olean reminded her for the umpteenth time. Their bags had been in Lord Trett's coach, and sometime during all of the excitement in town, the coach had simply disappeared. The two of them had been left behind literally with the clothes on their backs. She pulled Anya aside to relative privacy, leaned in, and told her softly, "We may have to go upstairs to pay for a room."

Anya looked confused. "I don't understand. How does going upstairs get us a room?"

Olean looked to the naïve girl for a moment, raising an eyebrow. Still getting no look of understanding from the younger woman, Olean glanced conspicuously to Anya's bosom, then back up. Suddenly, the eyes and mouth of Trett's faux-sex slave opened wide. She slapped a hand over her mouth, gasping into her fingers.

"Go … upstairs...!" she repeated, understanding. She looked out upon the crowd of mostly male, mostly drunk, mostly despicable patrons -- some of whom were still giving them hungry glances and calling out foul suggestions -- and whispered to Olean, "You mean … with one of them...?"

Olean shrugged. "That's what we do, honey. We part our legs, and in exchange, we are cared for."

"But I'm not a whore!" Anya countered. She added quickly, "I'm not even a sex slave...! Not really! It is just a story Countess Pollania and Princess Ranna created to get me close to Lord Trett. I'm really--"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, a spy for the Countess and Princess and the daughter of a landed peasant with pastures full of wool bearing sheep and so on and such forth," Olean cut in. "But right now … while you stand here with your belly empty and no bed in which to sleep tonight, all the fucking sheep in the Highlands are not going to feed you or give you comfort tonight, are they?"

Anya was on the verge of tears. She'd surrendered her chastity to Lord Trett out of duty to the Countess and Princess; and she'd watched Zelia suck a man's cock in an effort to improve her service to her new master; and now Olean wanted her to part her thighs and let a stranger find his joy inside her...?

"Unless you have a better idea," Olean pressed after a moment of silence between them amid the uproar of the patronage of the tavern. After another long moment, Olean began, "Okay, I will speak to the Keeper about a room in which we can--"

"I can sing!" Anya suddenly blurted out.

"What? What are you--"

"The men," Anya cut in, looking up into the older and slightly taller woman's eyes. "Earlier, they asked me for a song. They asked me to sing. I could sing to them instead."

Olean laughed. "They don't want a song from you, honey. They want to fuck you!"

"I don't want to … to … fuck them," Anya pleaded. "I'll sing to them. Maybe … maybe they'll give us enough coin for us to get a room. The minstrels sing in the Square, and people give them food and coin."

Olean studied the younger woman for a moment, then chuckled. "Okay … it's worth a chance. Come on."

The older of the pair led the younger to a set of steps that led to a bit of a mezzanine. A trio of musicians -- just locals having fun -- had been playing there off and on in between sucking down cheap ale. Olean spoke to the trio for a moment, discussed song options with them and Anya, then turned to look down upon the crowd, which had exploded in cat calls just at the better view of the two women.

Olean urged the mostly male audience to quiet down. When she got little result, the picked up a full tankard of ale and whipped her hand out before her, showering the men with the foamy liquid. Laughter and playful calls filled the room, but eventually the tavern went a bit quieter. Olean introduced Anya, told the men she was going to grace them with a song and that they better shut up and pay her some respect, then stepped back out of the line of sight, telling Anya, "Get us a room, honey."

The trio of musicians waited for the returning calls and howls and whistles to subside a bit, then began playing a soft, slow ditty about the King that was popular these days with the peasantry. It wasn't the type of tune you sung in Court, obviously, and it wasn't even proper for Anya to know the words. But she did, and nervous as she was she began singing out the words to the delight of the crowd.

Olean couldn't believe it! By the end of the second verse, Anya's nervousness seemed to have entirely dissipated. By the beginning of the third chorus, she had the entire patronage of the tavern singing with her. The man went quiet when Anya arrived at the next verse, to listen to what turned out to be a golden voice, and then again, the place exploded with dozens of men singing loudly with the little girl on the mezzanine.

When the song ended and she was able to speak above them, Olean called out to the men, "My young friend and I seemed to have been robbed of our purses, and we are unable to pay for a room this night."

"You can stay with me!" a man called out. Laughter erupted, other men offered their own rooms, there was playful banter back and forth, and a fight even broke out near the tavern's entrance, a tussle that spilled out almost immediately into the street and left the tavern again in relative peace. Olean continued loud enough for all to hear, "My young friend would be willing to grace you with another song … if you lovely men would be kind enough to--"

She didn't even finish the solicitation before coins began flying through the air to land up, bounce off of, and roll about the mezzanine. Olean, Anya, and even the musicians and a tavern wench near the stage (who pocketed some of the coins without comment from Olean) began gathering up the money. After some more laughter and calls and general hoopla, Olean looked at the proceeds and grimaced.

"You are very kind, sirs, but … this isn't quite enough, I fear," Olean said, knowing full well that there was plenty in her hands alone to get the two of them a single bed that they could share. She looked to Anya … then to Anya's bosom … and grinned evilly. Anya noticed the look and shook her head no; she didn't know what was going through the Hoshian's mind, but she knew it wasn't going to be good for her. Olean looked out over the crowd again, then declared, "My lovely friend here would be willing to shed some of her clothes--"

"No!" Anya growled in shock, turning her back to the patrons and scooting up close to Olean. "No, you're lovely friend wouldn't!"

But by now the crowd was getting even more excited than they had been, and coins were already beginning to fly their way. She continued, "Shed some of her clothes ...!... if we thought you might appreciate that!"

"Olean!" a panicked Anya was growling. "No!"

But the older servant only whispered down to her, "Listen!"

Anya didn't immediately understand what Olean's command meant … until she heard the steady clinging sound of coins hitting the stage and the railings and even the instruments the musicians had set down to help collect the coins. She looked up into Olean's eyes and pleaded, "I can't...!"

"You can!" Olean said, dumping the coins already in her hands into an empty tankard. "And you will … because if you don't now that we have all this coin … what almost happened at the river bank yesterday most certainly will happen now indeed."

Anya's eyes opened wide again, and looking out upon the crowd she realized that her heart was pounding harder than it ever had, even that time when Lord Trett had very nearly driven her all the way to orgasm before cumming himself and rolling over to go to sleep. She gave Olean a reluctant nod and asked what she had to do.

"Sing," Olean said simply. "Just … sing. I'll do the rest."

The sound of coins falling about them had ceased as the men waited to see whether the young beauty was going to go through with her promise of a show. Olean spoke to the musicians of a particular song, one they all knew well enough to perform. When she asked Anya about it, the younger woman said with dismay, "I can't sing that!"

"You're going to take your clothes off before a crowd of rowdy men," Olean said laughing. "I don't think that song is going to harm your image before them, do you?"

They bickered back and forth a bit, but Olean finally one out. The musicians began playing, and -- after missing her first cue, and her second -- Anya finally began singing. The song was about a trollop who became friendly with a merchant, then a Lord, then a Count, then a Baron, then a Prince, and then finally a King, trying to better the fortunes of herself and her family.

And all the while that Anya was singing, the former brothel belly dancing whoreOlean (OOC: currently in a dress) was swaying her own body about the younger Anya … toying with the fasteners and laces on the girl's dress. By the time Anya got to the verse about the Baron, the dress fell away to the floor to leave Anya in the shift wore under it.

The crowd of men went nuts, and a few more coins hit the mezzanine. Olean urged more pay to play action by moving to the fully blushing Anya's back, beginning to loosen the criss-crossed strings there. She urged the now silent Anya, "Sing for the money, honey."

Trett's recent purchase laughed, shocked that she was doing this, then launched back into the song. She could feel the tightness of the shift about her bosom loosening, and while her words faded away at times, she managed to keep the song moving forward. By now, the Inn Keeper and all three of his servers were at or near the mezzanine, gathering the coins, most but not all of which went into the three tankards on the higher level.

Anya was reaching the last verse of the song and feared that any moment she was going to be over exposed to the crowd. She reached a hand up to her lower rib cage in an effort to keep the shift from falling away, even as the upper roundness of her breasts -- nearly to her nipples -- was more than obviously in the view of the very excited patronage.

"Is not enough!" Olean called out over the music and words as she finished unbinding the younger woman's clothing. The only thing keeping Anya's woman-ness hidden now was the hand at her midsection. Olean called out with a big smile, "If you want to see it all … more ...!... more...!"

Another sprinkling of coins flew through the air, and a jubilant Olean moved up close to Anya, who had ceased singing though the musicians had continued to play. Suddenly, Olean jerked Anya's shift down with hands to the front and back both, leaving Anya standing there in nothing but the slip that hid her from the waist down. Just as quickly as her breasts were exposed to the crowd, Anya slapped her hands over the top of them, trying to hide her nipples and as much of the firm, perfectly rounded melons upon which the pert nubs stood. The crowd exploded with excitement.

"They love you, honey," Olean was saying as she was lowering to her knees. "They love you."

Anya's gaze shifted all about, from various men in the audience calling to her to Olean … before she realized what the other woman was doing. The Hoshian suddenly jerked down on the slip downward as well, exposing her clear to the tops of her calf high boots. Anya slashed a hand down to hide the neatly trimmed triangular patch of dark hair, then slid her upper hand across her bosom, trying to hide it all behind her hand and arm.

Anya just stood there frozen, unsure of what to do. Meanwhile, Olean had stood, while continuing to call for more coins and turning Anya away from the crowd to show off her tight little ass. After a bit, Olean finally said, "The stairs in front of you lead up to the rooms. Turn right at the top, first door on the left."

Anya didn't hesitate and started to run, but Olean stopped her with a hand tight around her elbow. "Give them a bow, then another at the top."

"I can't believe you did this to me," Anya hissed. Then, unable not to, Anya giggled. "My Gods … I can't believe we did this!"

But then, she turned back to the crowd, stared, smiled, laughed … and curtsied … before stepping out of the clothing gathered about her feet and running up the stairs. At the top, she curtsied again, turned her back to the patrons, wiggled her ass a bit, and ran laughing for the door to which Olean had directed her.

Down on the mezzanine, Olean gathered the three tankards. She gave one to the musicians and another to the Inn Keeper, stressing to him, "Share some with your wenches."

Then, she looked to the wenches -- some of whom she knew were likely whores -- and told them with an experienced tone, "You can get three times your normal rate tonight for half the service. And … your welcome."

She gathered Anya's clothes, turned, and headed up the stairs. Behind her, the men were slowly adding their voices to a raunchy song popular at brothels. Olean entered the room to find Anya on the bed with a blanket covering her front side … and she was giggling almost hysterically, again repeating that she couldn't believe she'd done that.

 

[WatchingCloud]

The Thicket

Night:


Kitts stayed away from the open area before the cave for a while, slowly hobbling around to stretch his leg while his thoughts battled inside his head. He knew he needed to act in the best interests of their band, but even now he didn't know what those were. More reports had come in from scouts about soldiers coming into the Woods. Dozens at least. He needed Chloe to be found, safe, and trust that she would convey her story to Princess Ranna. That, at least for the short term, was the most important thing.

Nalla was bugging him, too. Not so much her, although there was some of that, but his reaction to her. Maybe he wasn't quite as ready to be forgiving as he'd thought. Or, he was, but hadn't been ready to accept her back into the fold so quickly. He wasn't used to being questioned or second guessed or given advice of any sort. He owed her an apology, but what to say?

By the time her returned to the cave, the kids were all asleep as were most of the adults. Granny gave him a look as she finished her nightly clean up routine, but said nothing. Nalla was nowhere to be seen, so he settled on his improvised cot near the fire and tried to find sleep.

 

[WatchingCloud]

Southern Wailing Woods

Night:

Trett wasn't happy about the sword in his back or the dagger brandished in front of him, but he had been sneaking up on them in the dark and they hadn't just killed him outright. That was good.

What he couldn't figure was who these three (he'd noted the young woman sleeping near the fire, somehow sleeping through this) were. Reeka was young but there was a hard edge in her eyes, not someone to be messed with. He risked a brief glance over his shoulder to finally see the man who'd snuck up on him - a man in his twenties, strong and dangerous looking. They didn't strike him as highwaymen, and if they weren't then they certainly felt confident enough in their ability to protect themselves to brave these woods.

He also didn't care for way she'd identified him as a noble. That didn't bode well.

"My name is Trett," he said, foregoing his title and assuming no one would recognize the name out here. "I was out here looking for a farmer's daughter...Camilla Breck."

He glanced down at the sleeping girl, wondering if it could possibly be her. She didn't seem dressed for travel and there were only two horses ties up in the clearing.

"Unfortunately, I got lost when night fell. I wandered a bit further until seeing your fire. Thought I'd take a look, since I'm ill-equipped to spend the night in the wilderness."

 

[LoriDean12345]

Progressively deeper into the Wailing Woods:

The boy on foot -- who Ranna had learned was named Cable -- varied his speed through the forest to ensure that the mounted Princess kept view of him. For hours he had led her on a foot path, then a deer trail, then another foot path. Ranna was surprised that the boy never seemed to tire; occasionally, he stopped to lick water droplets from curled leaves where they had accumulated after a recent rain but other than that he didn't seem to need any sort of replenishment to his energy level.

The forest had already had its own natural darkness, but by now night had fallen as well. Ranna called that they needed to make camp three or four times, but each time Cable had disappeared deeper into the forest, only to call out, "This way!"

After getting slapped for the umpteenth time by a branch she hadn't seen, Ranna had had enough. She dismounted in a tiny clearing and tied her horse to a log downed across it where it could nibble on the green grass there. She poured some water from her skin into a leather bowl for the beast, then removed her saddle and tack. Three times -- each time from farther away -- Cable had called out. Finally, apparently realizing that she was no longer following, he returned to where she had already gathered some dry fibers and twigs and struck a tiny fire.

"Gather some wood, but not much as we're keeping this small," she ordered. Cable tried to tell her they needed to keep going if they were going to save her friend. Ranna responded firmly, "We're not going to save her by harming ourselves. Get the wood and come sit by the heat … rest."

Reluctantly, the boy ran off to do as told. Somehow, he came back with a dead rabbit, too. Lickety split, it was gutted, skinned, and on a spit over the fire, roasting. Ranna asked him about this Camilla, which surprised him as he assumed Ranna knew her well. He answered that he'd never met her, not mentioning that he'd spied on the Breck family repeatedly for years, sometimes even sneaking into Ricken's garden to eat vegetables fresh out of the ground.

Ranna asked about the Highwaymen, and while Cable had a lot to say, he didn't tell her anything that she didn't already know about them. And he seemed to know nothing about the kidnapping of Ranna's Lady in Waiting.

About Nalla, though, Cable only offered one thing when asked. With a tone of dread -- feigned, of course, as he and the healer were good friends -- the boy whispered, "She's a witch!"

When Ranna tried to get more from him, Cable only shook his head, repeating again and again, "Is taboo to speak of a witch when she not present to defend herself."

Ranna tried more, but to no avail. Finally, ripping off the hind quarters of the rather puny rabbit and snacking on them, they both laid down close to the flames to get a good night's sleep.