Hopeless Liberation Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Peter
_ Click._
** ** I heard the door at the other end of the hall open and close.
"I know you aren't fond of my methods, Orin," a voice said, echoing off the stone walls. Vercer. "But even you must admit that I always get results,"
Pawsteps began beating against the floor, drawing near to my cell, which was furnished with a mattress stained with brown, white and red blotches, a chamber pot that was pressed against the left wall and a bench that was in the back, directly across from the rusted bars that reminded me of old needles for some odd reason.
I was sitting on the bench and had been thinking about how to escape since the day before, when Vercer locked me up after torturing that Talth to death. I could still remember how we left his body dangling, blood seeping from all the cuts Vercer made. Will Capres do the same thing to me when I'm handed over? The thought had lingered in my mind and pushed me to come up with a plan to free myself. After all, there was a chance that Dante had died, even though my instincts told me that he didn't. Two arrows to the chest isn't enough to stop him. Still, in case I was wrong, I walked around my cell the day before, looking for any weak spots in the walls or bars. Sadly, I hadn't found anything. I had eventually gotten so desperate that I tried to squeeze between the bars, but they were close enough together to keep even members of smaller species like me from getting out. The spaces were only as thick as one of my arms, so it was impossible to slide the rest of my body through. Despite this, I still tried to find a way to escape. But, I knew that if I managed to get out of my cell, there was the door at the end of the hallway. It was locked and watched by guards, which I had seen when Vercer walked me to my cell. And, if getting through the door and past the guards wasn't hard enough, I would still have had to sneak out of the fort without any of the sentries outside noticing me. For now, it seemed like Dante was my only chance of being freed, but I didn't even know if he was alive or not. Please don't let him be dead.
_ _ "I just don't see the point of leaving that weasel's body hanging in your courtyard," another voice said, which probably belonged to whoever Orin was. "The crows were eating his body, Julian! Almost all of the flesh on his arms is gone,"
"Someone has to feed the crows," Vercer said. "They're the ones who clean up our messes. They deserve some gratitude,"
"And you cut off his testicles!" Orin said, repulsed. "What was the purpose of that?"
"Peter had no reason to talk," Vercer replied. "So I gave him one,"
"So you were able to get him talking?"
"Would we be having this conversation if I didn't?" _ _
"Jesus," Orin sighed.
Finally, after a short silence, Vercer and Orin stopped in front of my cell. Vercer, unlike the day before, was wearing a black doublet that was a little large on him and a pair of brown trousers that matched his boots. Of course, he also wore his purple captain's sash. I then noticed my sword, which he had taken from me, at his side, as if he were trying to mock my helplessness. Meanwhile, Orin, a coyote, examined me with his blue eyes, as if I were a page in a book that had been sloppily written. He, unlike Vercer, was wearing a full suit of armor -aside from a helmet- that had the Talis crest on it. My eyes drifted down, noticing the purple captain sash wrapped around his arm and a large sword that was sheathed at his side.
"How do you know this is Peter Gannish?" Orin asked.
"He told me so," Vercer said, staring at me with his usual curious gaze.
"And you just took his word for it?" Orin asked, turning his head to look at Vercer with surprise.
"Like I said before, I let him see me work on the weasel," Vercer said, not meeting Orin's eyes with his own. "I showed him what happens when someone doesn't answer my questions,"
Orin's surprise finally faded and he turned his head to look at me again. "Still, even if he says he's Peter Gannish, he might be lying,"
"If you aren't satisfied with my method of questioning, ask him whatever you deem necessary," Vercer said, without the slightest hint of annoyance.
I stared at Orin and he stared back at me.
"What's the Gannish crest?" Orin asked me, his eyes studying my expression.
I considered giving a wrong answer on purpose, since doing so may have gotten Orin to free me, but I gazed over at Vercer, who still watched me with intrigue, and remembered what he had done to the Talth the day before. I don't think that's a risk I'm willing to take.
"An otter on top of a rock with the sun above it," I said, honestly.
Orin was silent.
"Satisfied?" Vercer asked. "Or do you want to continue?"
"That doesn't prove he's Gannish's son," Orin said, glaring at Vercer.
The coyote then turned his head back to look at me. "Besides Peter, who are Gannish's other sons?"
It was a trick question. Other than myself, my father only had one son. The question also implied that he didn't have a daughter, which he did.
"Besides me," I said, "my father has another son and a daughter. Their names are Dalton and Erica. They're twins and are both fifteen,"
Orin was quiet again. Then, he asked me a third question. "How did Queen Gannish die?"
I blinked and remembered how, one morning, when I was six years old, my father came into my room. I had been told that my mother had a cold a few days before, which was why I wasn't surprised that he was alone, since she hadn't come out of her room for a while. My father then sat on the side of my bed with a look of sadness in his eyes and a smile I knew was fake because his ears were folded back. He asked me how I slept and if I had any dreams. I told him I slept all right and didn't dream about anything. Then, he let the fake smile melt away and sighed.
Peter... Your mother...She died last night.
_ But she was just sick._
_ Yes. She was sick, Peter. Her illness took her._
_ She was supposed to get better._
_ Not everybody gets better when they're sick. Sometimes, they get worse._
_ But you said she would get better._
_ I didn't want you to worry, Peter. I lied, yes, but your mother and I didn't want you to know. No child should have to live every day in fear, knowing that they're mother is slowly dying._
_ YOU SAID SHE WOULD GET BETTER!_
_ Peter, stop screaming. You'll wake Dalton and Erica._
_ YOU'RE A LIAR!_
_ Your mother and I agreed that it would be better to never tell-._
_ I HATE YOU! YOU LIED TO ME AND I NEVER GOT TO SAY GOODBYE TO MOMMY!_
_ Peter... I was just trying to protect you. Your mother and I..._
_ _ No matter how much he had tried to apologize or explain that he was trying to protect me, I didn't listen to my dad. Eventually, I buried my face into my pillow and started screaming as the tears poured into the silk. That made my father become quiet as he sat on the side of my bed. Then, he silently got up and went out of my room, leaving me to cry alone.
"There was something wrong with her lungs," I said, after I snapped out of the bitter memory's hold. "She coughed up blood all the time. It got so bad that she had a servant carry a bunch of handkerchiefs and follow her around all day, since she liked to wear dresses and didn't have anywhere to put them. At least, that's what my father said a few years after we buried her,"
Orin was silent.
"As I said before," Vercer spoke, as he stared at me with more interest than before, "he's Peter Gannish,"
For a moment, Orin didn't answer him. Instead, he stared at me with pity burning in his eyes, obviously because of the story about my mother. You're thirteen years too late.
_ _ "I'll..." Orin said, before clearing his throat and facing Vercer. "I'll send word to Queen Talis. She'll want to hear about this and I'm sure she's arrived at the Fanged Peaks already,"
"When did she leave again?" Vercer asked.
"Two weeks ago,"
"I wonder why she didn't inform me of her departure. It would have been less surprising for me to welcome you instead of her today,"
"As I told you outside," Orin said, sternly, "it was a last minute decision that she made in order to have a few words with Capres about his war plans,"
"Leaving us to fend for ourselves," Vercer pointed out. "I think it would be a good idea if we also sent word to King Gannish and told him that his son is our hostage. We can probably use that as leverage and force him to fight with us if war breaks out,"
Orin bared his teeth at the dhole. "Queen Talis will decide what we do with Peter, not you,"
"Only a suggestion," Vercer said, not showing any sign of fear or aggression.
"And the wolf he was with?" Orin asked, his tone becoming somewhat less angry. "He's dead?"
"Yes," Vercer said. "My men shot him with arrows. He fell down and didn't stand back up. So we left him there, bleeding on the road,"
"He may have been someone important, too," Orin said. "You shouldn't have been so hasty to attack,"
"The wolf almost drew his sword. Was I supposed to let him attack my men and I?"
"Drawing a sword and using it are two different things," Orin said. "He may have not known it was you he ran into at first. Maybe he thought it was some Talth,"
Orin turned his attention towards me. "Who was your friend?"
"Dante," I said, hoping that he wouldn't ask for a last name. If he did, I would have had to make one up, which seemed like a bad idea, since something told me that Vercer would be able to tell if I was lying. Then, Vercer would probably have tortured me until I told them who Dante really was. And then they might look for him, which won't be good if he's still alive.
"Who was he?" the coyote asked, sounding friendlier now than he did before I told him about my mother.
"A traveler," I answered. "He walked around Alpis,"
"A typical vagabond," Vercer said. "He wanted the reward money for Peter, probably so he could visit brothels and drink himself to death,"
"Is this true?" Orin asked, ignoring Vercer's comment.
"Yes," I said, feeling the fur on the back of my neck prickling from how negatively Vercer spoke of Dante. "He was returning me for the gold. But I don't know what he was going to spend it on,"
"You don't sound like you hate him," Orin noted.
"Why would I?" I asked, before remembering that there had been a time when I actually did hate Dante, back when we had first met and he dragged me through the woods by a piece of rope.
"He was your captor," Orin said. "And I'm assuming you didn't want to go back to Lowpive, correct?"
"Yes," I answered. "I didn't want to go back to Lowpive and I was Dante's prisoner. But we slowly became friends and, after Capres started getting ready for war, Dante knew I wasn't safe outside of Lowpive. So, we were going to Lowpive for the gold, but also for my safety. Then, whenever the war died down and we had the gold, we were going to travel around Alpis together,"
Orin grew silent, thinking over what I had just told him.
"Peter was very distraught over his death," Vercer mentioned to the coyote. "When we were walking back to the fort, he tried stealing a sword from one of my knights, who then beat him down onto the ground,"
"What?" Orin said, his brown ears falling back as he bared his teeth and shot the dhole a look of anger.
"Don't worry," Vercer said, smirking at the captain's rage. "I hanged him immediately. Of course, since we only had so much rope available, I had his fingers cut off so he couldn't free himself,"
Orin winced at the story. "Was that necessary, Julian?"
"It was," Vercer said with authority. "He was supposed to watch over the prince while we walked back, not assault him. And, after all, having two hands that disobey you is worse than having a single loyal one,"
Orin did not speak.
"I know you and I have different approaches to commanding," Vercer continued, "but I like men that don't question me and are used to the sight of blood. They're knights. They're expected to follow orders and see bloodshed. That's why I had them hang the knight themselves and cut off his fingers, to give them a taste of violence and demonstrate what happens when they aren't loyal,"
After a deep and troubled sigh, Orin said, "One day, they'll turn on you. Or at least one of them will,"
"You underestimate what fear is capable of," Vercer replied with a hint of pride in his words. "My men never question me. They can't even begin to imagine what I would do if I discovered they were plotting to murder me. And, even if they did kill me, Queen Talis would hang them for treason. Or is that an honor you'd deny me by whispering into her ear when I'm in the ground?"
"Don't debate honor with me, Julian," Orin hissed, his neck furs rising. "I'm the one who gives you men to guard your fort with,"
"And when was the last time I needed men?" Vercer asked, grinning.
Orin didn't respond, but stared at Vercer with distaste.
"A year ago," Vercer reminded him, his grin fading. "A month after I was given command of this fort. Since then, word has spread about what I do to disloyal knights. I've weeded out the defiant ones. All that's left are obedient men. What more can a captain ask for?"
"And how many so-called loyal men are there?" Orin demanded. "One hundred and fifty? One hundred? There were one hundred and sixty men under your command a year ago. You can't have killed that many of them,"
This time, Vercer gave the coyote a beaming smile. "Fifty,"
"Wha-?" Orin said, his voice failing him for a moment as his eyes were filled with horror and his ears folded back. "Fifty?"
"Fifty loyal knights," Vercer proudly proclaimed. "It's as I said, Orin. I'd rather have one loyal hand than two that aren't,"
Orin continued to stare at Vercer with fear. "You're insane,"
"No," Vercer said, his smile fading away and his cold expression re-emerging. "I'm just a visionary. But, then again, has there ever been a large difference between the two?"
"You need more men to guard a fort," Orin insisted, his shock still lingering and his voice shaking. "Your men must hardly be getting any sleep,"
"I only have ten knights on guard duty at a time," Vercer explained. "There are five shifts in a day. One at dawn, one at noon, one at twilight, one at midnight and one at the witching hour. No shifts last longer six hours. And each man only does one shift in a day,"
"But that's still only ten men guarding the fort at once! What if there was an attack? There's a war coming. Who knows what the South is planning? King Ester might send an entire army over Owl's Overwatch right now while Queen Talis is gone,"
"There hasn't been an official declaration of war yet," Vercer reminded Orin. "The North has only been discussing the possibility of one. And I doubt King Ester would make a move this early, especially by himself,"
Orin didn't argue anymore, probably because he wouldn't really mind if Vercer died.
_ _ "So," Vercer said, "you'll send word to Queen Talis?"
"Yes," Orin said. "I'll send someone I trust. I don't want the message to just be dropped off at the Iron Pass. God only knows what Capres would do if he read it,"
"That would be unfortunate. He'd probably demand us to send Peter directly to him, regardless of what Queen Talis would want, like the prideful fool that he is,"
"On that we can agree,"
"Well, are there any other questions you'd like to ask the prince?"
"No. I would like to ask you a question, though,"
"Sounds interesting," Vercer said, his ears rising.
"Don't you think it would be better to move Peter into the City?" Orin asked. "We have more men to watch him,"
"Oh, Orin," Vercer said, shaking his head with a smile. "Don't you trust me? Why would I kill the prince? It would cost me my head,"
"I'm not questioning your loyalty to Queen Talis," Orin said. "Despite our different tastes in leadership, I think Peter would be better guarded in Sleeping Sun,"
"If Queen Talis wishes to move him, then I will do so," Vercer said, his face becoming an unreadable slab of stone once again. "Until then, I'll keep him here. I was the one who captured him, after all,"
"Are you not willing to reconsider?" Orin asked.
"I will transfer him to your cells if you put a letter from Queen Talis in my hands that orders me to do so," Vercer told the coyote.
"Then that's all I had left to ask," Orin said, his nostrils flaring with frustration. "I'll send a letter that explains the situation when I return to the City. I'll order the messenger to only give it to Queen Talis,"
"Good," Vercer said. "Let me walk you back to your horse,"
"As you wish," Orin said, his ears flicking at the offer.
Before walking away with Orin, Vercer turned to stare at me. "I'll be back to see you later for dinner tonight, Peter. I hope you haven't forgotten,"
Without waiting for my response, Vercer turned and escorted Orin down the hall.
"You're having dinner with him?" Orin asked.
"Yes," Vercer replied. "He was compliant when I questioned him. And I always reward cooperation,"
Orin said nothing else.
After more pawsteps echoed through the hall, becoming more and more distant by the moment, the door at the end of the hallway opened. Then, it shut and I could hear it click as it was locked.
Is it almost dinnertime? Since I had no window and only received bread and a flagon of water sometime in the early morning, it was impossible to tell if it was day or night.
Once Orin and Vercer had left, I decided to take a nap on my dirty mattress and slept for only God knows how long. After that, I finished off the last piece of my bread. Then, I lay back on my bed and stared the ceiling, praying that Dante or somebody would come rescue me from that hell.
Click.
_ _ The door at the end of the hall opened and closed, just before I heard pawsteps traveling closer to me as I sat up on the edge of my bed.
Eventually, Vercer stepped in front of my cell door where I could see him, allowing me to notice that he was wearing the exact same outfit as earlier. Only now, he held a ring of keys in his hand.
"Hello, Peter," the dhole said, smiling. "Are you ready to eat?"
"Do I have a choice?" I groaned.
"No," Vercer said. "Unless you'd like to part with one of your legs,"
"Then I don't have a choice," I said, standing up and trying not to imagine how I would live with only one leg.
"Good," Vercer said, finding the key he was looking for on his ring and putting it into the keyhole of my cell's barred door.
Six bars swung out towards the dhole. He caught them with his left hand and motioned me to come out with his right, like he was some kind of dancer.
I obeyed and reluctantly left my cell, stepping out into the hallway. I might be able to get away if I run fast enough.
Once I was outside of my cell, Vercer closed the barred door and pulled the key out, ringing the rest of the keys. He then turned and remained still. "Go on," he said, calm as ever. "I'll tell you where to go. And, if you try to run, I'll saw off your lower jaw with a razor,"
The idea of my lower jaw hanging open as a puddle of blood fell into my lap made my tail duck between my legs. I could even feel my stomach curl inside my belly from the amount of pain that I imagined having to suffer. Yeah. Running isn't a good idea.
I started walking and Vercer's pawsteps remained behind me with every step. We passed by the eight empty cells that were between my cell and the door, all of which had the same furniture as mine. He probably kills all of his prisoners.
_ _ We then exited through the door, which Vercer locked behind me. To my right, I noticed two knights dressed in armor. They wore their helmets, but I knew they weren't paying attention to me, since they were talking and not looking over.
Vercer finished locking the door and turned around. "Let's go,"
I moved to the stairs up ahead, which were bathed in sunlight that poured in through a window on a wooden door.
I opened the door at the top of the stairs and stepped through the doorway, dirt now crunching beneath my boots. We were in the courtyard and it was going to become dark soon, since I could barely see the dust that began floating around me with every step I took. I then noticed a door on the building directly across from us that was guarded by two knights, who both seemed just as tall as Vercer.
Once Vercer shut the door to the cells behind him, he said, "Go straight through that door,"
I obeyed and walked through the dirt, heading towards the next door.
The knights didn't pay any attention to me, since I was with Vercer, and didn't reach for the grips of their swords when I grabbed the doorknob. If only I could get one of those swords.
The door creaked open and I stepped inside of an empty room, which had a floor and ceiling made up of the same dead-looking grey stone as the rest of the fort. On the opposite side of the room, however, was a staircase.
"Go up the stairs," Vercer said, the door shutting behind him.
I did as I was told and walked across the room, slowly lifting my paws over one another as I marched and eventually traveled up the stairs.
As we moved higher on the staircase, I noticed a window on the wall, far above the door that we had come through, that was made of blue and green glass. Through it, I could just make out some of the courtyard and a knight standing on the wall of the fort with his back towards me.
The sight didn't last long, though, since Vercer and I came upon one of the many turns in the staircase, which forced me to turn my back to the window as I headed further up the steps.
Eventually, the stairs ended and I stood before another door that had a bronze knob.
"Go inside," Vercer said behind me, as he came to a stop.
I reached my arm out and turned the knob just before entering a large room, which smelled of a sweet-scented perfume that reminded me of flowers. Towards the back of the room, there were two windows that hung side-by-side and showed a clear view of the treetops outside the fort. Beneath the windows sat a desk, which had a quill dipped into an inkbottle, a golden stamp, some blank paper and a closed red book all sitting on top of it. To the right of the desk and one of the windows, I saw a bookcase, holding what seemed like dozens of books that were all entirely different colors and shapes. Then, just to the right of the bookcase, an empty fireplace stood inside the wall. In the center of the room, I saw a small wooden table, which appeared new to me because the wood looked as smooth as water and smelled like tree bark. Two candles and a glass flagon of water had been carefully placed on the tabletop, standing between two bowls that were placed on opposite ends of the table. Each bowl held a wooden spoon inside of them, dipped within a brown steamy soup, and were placed next to a cloth napkin, as well as an empty goblet. Two chairs also faced one another, each of which were positioned behind one of the soup bowls.
"No wine?" I asked, uncomfortable by how quiet Vercer had become for a moment.
"I only drink water," Vercer said behind me. "Wine and ale destroy your common sense. They've killed many people, some more quickly than others, but they'll certainly kill more in the future. I don't intend to be one of them. Take a seat,"
I eased towards the table and sat down in the chair that faced Vercer's desk. It was a little large and was probably made for species that were bigger than otters, but the wood seemed stable and didn't creek, so at least it was in good condition. It's better than anything I have in my cell.
_ _ Vercer locked the door behind him and trotted over to the left side of the room, approaching a large wooden chest that I hadn't seen when we first entered. He lifted the lid, causing the hinges of the chest to shriek like a pair of dying birds. Then, he bent over and pulled out a bundle of rope.
Without saying a word, Vercer turned, letting the lid of the chest fall closed, and walked towards me. He undid the rope and tied it around my chest, binding me to the back of the chair and straightening my spine out. The dhole also tied my arms to my sides. Next, he moved down and tied a couple of circles of rope around my paws, confining them to the legs of the chair. Great. Just after Dante stops tying me up, this crazy asshole catches me and ties me up instead.
_ _ Once he was done securing me down to the chair, Vercer turned and walked toward an open doorway that was directly behind me, which, like the chest, I had also missed when I first entered the room. Before Vercer filled the doorway, I got a glimpse from over my shoulder of a bed that had brown sheets and pillows that were the same color.
Vercer closed the door behind him without a word.
He's just gonna leave me here?
_ _ I considered trying to gnaw through the ropes around me, but then I remembered doing the same thing the day after Dante had caught me and how, after running for a little while, three Talth almost raped me in the middle of the road. Where would I even go if I did get out of here? Outside? Where the knights are standing guard?
_ _ I leaned my head as far forward as the ropes around my chest would allow, hoping to catch a look at the soup. It wasn't anything special. The water had been made brown from the slices vegetables that floated in the center of the stew and breathed lines of steam up into the air. As far as I could tell, the vegetables inside the soup were carrots, onions and green beans. Then again, I never really learned how to cook anything, so there was a chance that I was wrong. Well, at least it's not more bread.
_ _ The door behind me creaked open.
I turned my head and nearly felt my heart stop at what I saw standing in the doorway.
Proudly settled in the open entrance to the adjacent room, Vercer stared at me with an evil smile and excited eyes. He wasn't wearing his tunic and trousers anymore. Instead, he had on a black dress that tightly wrapped around his figure and only went halfway down his thighs. I hadn't noticed it before, since his doublet had been a little baggy and his armor covered him up, but I now realized that Vercer had a very slim figure, which would have made any woman envious. His legs were also very thin. Sure, they had some muscles, but both of them were still very slender. I almost couldn't believe that it was Vercer. How could it have been? The same man who had castrated a weasel the day before and hung a kangaroo after cutting off his fingers was now somehow standing in front of me while wearing a tiny black dress.
"It's not polite to gawk at a lady," Vercer said, speaking in a breathy voice that sounded almost like a woman's.
I couldn't speak and only sat there in silence like a jackass.
"Nothing to say?" Vercer asked, giving a high-pitched laugh. "I'll take that as a compliment,"
Slowly, the dhole strutted towards his chair at the other end of the table, his hips swaying a little as he walked past me with a raised tail. A small scent of perfume, the same one I had smelled when we had first walked in, now bounced off of his fur.
Vercer eased himself into the chair, making sure to tuck his tail to the side before gently sitting down. Then, he scooted his chair around the corner and to the side of the table, angling himself so that he faced the corner of the table to my right, sitting only a mere few inches away from me now. He then picked up the spoon in my bowl, which carried soup as Vercer held it up to my mouth.
I stared at the soup in front of me, watching the muddy brown drops of liquid drip off the sides of it and back into the bowl. Then, I looked back at Vercer, giving him a questioning look.
"Eat it," Vercer said in an upbeat and bubbly voice, "or I'll use the spoon to debone your hand instead,"
This is really fucking weird.
_ _ I opened my widely mouth and Vercer slowly slid the spoon into my mouth. The wood was so rough against my tongue that I almost squealed in pain, but, since I knew Vercer would have probably started stabbing me with the spoon if I made any noise, I pushed my tongue to the bottom of my mouth.
Then, Vercer turned the spoon, dumping the thick fluid, which was far too salty for me to enjoy, onto my tongue. I still didn't complain, though, and began chewing once Vercer pulled the spoon out of my mouth.
"I'm sure you have a great deal of questions," Vercer said, smiling at my obedience. He then began stirring my soup with the spoon.
"Yeah," I said, swallowing my mouthful of soup, which was hot enough for me to feel crawling down my throat. "What's wrong with you?"
Vercer continued to stir my soup, but he shook his head, smiling still, as he clicked his tongue in disappointment. "I thought you of all people would understand, Peter," he said, continuing to speak in his feminine voice.
"What the hell does that mean?" I asked, feeling the fur on my face prickle.
Vercer lifted the spoon from my bowl with more soup and held it to my muzzle. "I presumed that you wouldn't judge me. You're gay, after all, so you know what it's like to be different,"
My mouth dropped open in surprise and Vercer glided the spoon between my teeth for a second time, the topside of my mouth now beginning to burn from all the steam.
After Vercer dumped the soup and pulled the spoon out, I swallowed the food whole, not wanting to taste it, even though the vegetables tickled my throat as they went down. "How the hell did you know I was gay?"
"Tongues are loose in Alpis," Vercer told me, stirring my soup again. "I've heard how you denied all the marriages your father proposed to you. I assumed that was the reason,"
"It was only two marriages," I said, remembering my father practically begging me to marry some girls I had never met, which made my tail thrash against my back in the chair.
"Still," Vercer said, lifting the spoon again to feed me, "they obviously didn't interest you,"
I took the mouthful of soup and briefly swallowed it. "I'd never even met them before!"
Vercer gave a small nod and stirred my soup again. "Sensible. But most princes meet their possible wives before they reject them, even though such a quick union will most likely be an unhappy one,"
"Yeah. I could have ended up marrying someone as crazy as you,"
Vercer stopped stirring my soup and gave me a cold look that made my tail curl. He then sat back in his chair and released the spoon, allowing it to lifelessly tap against the side of the bowl and lay still as the bottom half was still inside of the soup. "You shouldn't be so rude, Peter. You're my guest and I'm feeding you a nice dinner in my own home. I deserve a little appreciation,"
"Appreciation?" I hissed. "You put me in a goddamn cell after murdering two men and expect me to be grateful? You're even crazier than I thought!"
Suddenly, Vercer grabbed my throat with the same hand that he had used to stir my soup and picked up the spoon with his other, holding the wooden object to my lips. His eyes were as cold as snow and showed no concern or mercy. To him, it was probably like putting on a pair of trousers. When he spoke, his voice was low and empty of the energy that had been inside of it a moment ago, almost like he was reading a boring book out loud. "Speak another insult and I'll shatter every single one of your teeth with this spoon,"
I didn't say anything and only stared down at the spoon in front of my muzzle.
Vercer slowly took the spoon away from my mouth, scooped up more soup and held it back up for me. "Would you like to know why I'm wearing a dress?" he asked with lively energy in his voice again.
"Yes," I said, fearing what the dhole would have done if I didn't agree.
After I opened my mouth and let the spoon splash more hot soup onto my tongue, Vercer explained. "Ever since I was young, I've never felt like a man. For a while, I thought that it was just because I was still a boy. But years passed and my feelings didn't change. I now prefer to think of myself as a woman,"
Vercer slid the spoon out of my mouth and stirred the soup again.
"Did your parents...treat you...like a girl?" I said, unsure of how someone could feel like they were something that they had never been. "Like, did they make you wear dresses and sew?"
"No," Vercer said, smiling at the thought. "I helped around the farm, working side-by-side with my father. We tended to the crops and cattle. It was a very rugged life. And I always dressed appropriately for it. I wore trousers and a tunic, just like my father, but never a dress,"
"So," I said, still trying to wrap my head around the idea of what Vercer had said. "You feel like a woman? And that didn't have anything to do with how you were raised?"
"Absolutely not," Vercer answered, bringing the spoon up to feed me more soup. "My parents had no idea about how I felt,"
I ate the soup and, as Vercer pulled the spoon away, asked, "How did you know that these feelings were real and not some kind of phase?"
Vercer sighed and began stirring my soup again. "My father and I were supposed to go to Ansil one year to sell the crops from our harvest, but I'd gotten sick. It was a cold. Nothing all that serious. So, my mother went with him, since going into the City and selling crops alone is very strenuous and dangerous.
"About an hour or two after they'd left, I thought I heard a noise come from their room. I got out of my bed to investigate, but didn't find anything.
"I told myself that it was probably the wind or something and turned to go out the door when I noticed part of a violet dress sticking out of the trunk that contained my mother's clothes. I opened the trunk to push the dress inside, but, before I shut the trunk, I realized how soft the fabric of the dress was. I stood there for a minute, rubbing the material between my fingers. That was when I started to wonder what it would have been like to actually have the dress on.
"So, I pulled the dress out and found a pair of my mother's loincloths underneath it. I decided to try those on as well, to get the full experience of what it was like to dress as a woman,"
The dhole lifted the spoon to feed me and I ate the soup again without arguing. "How did it feel?"
Slowly, Vercer dipped the spoon into my bowl, but didn't stir. Instead, he let go of the spoon, leaned back in his chair and stared at his hand, which he had lowered onto the table. "Do you know what it's like to wear someone else's clothes? You're always aware that they're touching you, like a parasite. That's how I always felt, growing up inside of the wrong body. But, when I put on that dress, I... I felt like I was finally myself, as if I had only half-existed before then. Not only was I a woman on the inside, but I was finally a woman on the outside, too. It was... It was my true birth, when Jewel was given life and Julian lost his,"
"Jewel?" I asked, unsure as to what Vercer was saying.
The dhole looked up from his hand and stared at me. "It's my name, my real name. A woman's name,"
I said nothing.
"You'll call me Jewel from now on," he said, the familiar cold tone of Vercer's voice returning for just a moment. "Unless we are in the company of others, of course. Understand?"
I nodded.
"Good," Jewel said, her springy tone returning instantly as she picked up the spoon and started to stir my soup again.
"Where are your parents now?" I asked. "Do they know you're a captain?"
"They're dead," Jewel said, smiling as she lifted soup to my lips. "I killed them,"
I felt my whiskers twitch and I stared at Jewel, growing sick at the idea of her murdering her parents. "What?"
Jewel still held the spoon in front of my face and showed no interest in my shock. "Eat,"
After looking down at the spoon and back up at Jewel, I opened my mouth and let the soup pour over my tongue. I swallowed, forgetting to chew, and asked, "Why?"
Jewel began to stir my soup once more. "My father came home late one night after a trip into the City to buy some food. I waited all night for him to return and my mother had gone to bed early. After waiting inside for a long time, I went out to get some fresh air and found him passed out in the dirt, just a few steps away from our own door with a puddle of puke next to his head. I could smell ale on his breath and the scent of perfume on his fur. He also reeked of cum.
"I tried shaking him awake, but he groaned and smiled in his sleep. I shook him again and he said, 'Aileen...just one more fuck before I go home,'
"I was going to try waking him again, but then I noticed how vulnerable his neck was, practically begging to be cut open. The idea of my father flopping around in the dirt while he gurgled in his own blood excited me so much that I ran into our barn and found the knife we used to slaughter a cow or an ox.
"I had learned how to slit a cow's throat years before then and it had become like a second nature to me. But it was always incredible, feeling the ecstasy of having the power to take a life. One moment, there's a living being there and, in the next moment, you send it flailing to the ground without so much as a fight. I loved doing it and, after a few months, started getting erections every time I had to put a cow or ox down.
"That's what I wanted to do to my father. But, when I stood over him with the knife in my hand, I knew that I didn't want to give him a quick death. I wanted to take my time and enjoy myself. So I stabbed him in one of his eyes. That woke him up. He tried to scream, but I covered his mouth with my free hand and stabbed his other eye. Once that was done, I began stabbing him in the belly, spilling blood and whatever he had drunk that night onto the ground around us. Only then, when his eyes and belly all leaked blood onto me, did I cut open his throat.
"When I was finished, I stood up and gazed at his body, getting hard as his blood flooded around my boots and sank into the soil.
"But then I thought about my mother. I imagined what she would do when she found my father's body. She would have known I was the one who murdered him. So, I crept into her room and slit her throat, just like one of the cows, and she died in her bed, staring up at me with surprise,"
Jewel lifted another spoonful of soup up for me.
I blinked, trying not to throw up the soup I had already eaten, and shook my head. "I'm full,"
Jewel stared at me and then at my soup before setting the spoon down into the bowl. "I forgot. Smaller species don't have very large stomachs,"
"How did you...?" I said. I tried asking the question on my mind, but I feared what the answer would have been. But there was a chance that it would have helped me forget about what Jewel had done to her parents. "How did you become a captain?"
The dhole reached for her bowl and pulled it from the other side of the table. Next, she grabbed her spoon and gently tilted it back, allowing the brown goop and vegetables to slowly slide between her lips. "I joined the Talth after I left home," she said, after setting her spoon back down. "It wasn't hard. All I had to do was steal a sword and kill a few people. That's all there is to being a Talth, really.
"A little over a year ago, there was a plot to overthrow Queen Talis. She had executed some of their men. Hermes, the Northern Talth Commander before Osric, had tried to buy their freedom. He took Talis' refusal of his gold very poorly and planned an assassination.
"Seeing an opportunity to move up in society, I went to Queen Talis and disclosed the details of the plot to her. She immediately knighted me, made me the captain of this fort and had the Talth ambushed on the night they had planned their attack. Hermes was among the Talth and had a few arrows shot through his throat. And, for the past year, I've been here, ruling my own fort and doing anything that I want,"
"You killed all your friends?" I asked, feeling shocked, even though the betrayed men had been Talth.
"They were never my friends," Jewel explained. "Sure, we stole, killed and raped together, but I had no feelings for any of them,"
I sat silently in my chair, watching Jewel as I grew sicker by the moment.
"Not that I enjoyed raping the women we found," Jewel continued. "I can't imagine what it's like, having a penis force its way in and out of your body. But it was expected of me and I didn't want draw any attention to myself, even though I'm not attracted to women. So, whenever I was inside of a girl, I thought about what was going to happen when we had all finished taking our turns with her, how her throat would be slit like the one of the cows from my farm and spill blood onto the dirt, all while she struggled and became still. That always helped me finish inside those girls' bodies. I would even think about how they died later and masturbate to the sweet memories,"
My disgust had now gotten the better of me and I couldn't hold myself back any longer. "What's wrong with you? I get not liking women, but how can you like killing so much?"
Jewel stared at me curiously, as if she were studying a wild animal. Then, a smile crept across her muzzle. "Let me show you,"
I nearly screamed as Jewel rose from her chair, thinking that she was going to hop over the table and break all of my teeth like she had threatened to before. But, instead, she strutted towards her room, opened the door and vanished as it closed behind her.
Jewel came back through the door a moment later, carrying a naked women, a dhole just like her, who was tied up and dangling over Jewel's shoulder.
Without care, Jewel tossed the woman on the far side of the table from me, slamming her back against the wood. The woman's mouth was gaged by rope and she looked over at me with helpless tears in her eyes as she sobbed into her gag. Her hands and wrists were tied together at her chest, as if she were praying to God for help. Her legs were also bound by rope. I then noticed that her stomach was swollen and flexed with every sob, but the rest of her body was thin, meaning that she was pregnant.
"What are you doing?" I asked while looking up at Jewel, my body burning with fear as though I had jumped into a tub of boiling water.
"I'm going to show you why I like killing," Jewel said, stepping towards the desk between the windows. She then opened one of the drawers and pulled out a knife, just before turning to stalk back towards the pregnant woman, who was now shaking with terror.
"Don't hurt her!" I screamed. "If you're going to kill anyone, kill me! She's pregnant, for Christ's sake!"
"I appreciate the offer, Peter," Jewel said, gazing down at the squealing woman and smiling at her horror. "But I can't kill you. You're Queen Talis' prisoner,"
Before I could say another word, Jewel pressed the knife's tip against the woman's cheek, drawing a drop of blood that trickled onto the table. "You have lovely cheeks, dear. I'm sure they'll look even lovelier when they're decorated in red,"
Then, Jewel looked at me as her ears perked up and her smile grew. "What shall it be, Peter? You're my guest, so you get the honor of deciding how she dies,"
"Don't hurt her!" I yelled, trying to break free of my ropes by pushing my arms away from the chair.
"A quick death?" Jewel said, giving me a look of confusion. "Well, you're my guest, so I can't deny your request,"
"No!" I shouted.
But it was too late. Jewel moved the knife to the pregnant dhole's throat, slicing it open in one slash. The girl screamed into her gag and her eyes leaked tears down her face, which mixed with the blood that sprayed out of her open neck and onto the table. She quickly drew quiet and her eyes stopped blinking.
"No!" I screamed, throwing my chair and myself back onto the ground.
I had hoped that the chair would break so that I could have killed Jewel, but I wasn't so lucky. The chair hit the ground and my head slammed against the back of the chair, making me scream as my skull felt like it had been beaten with a hammer. My ropes hadn't even loosened.
Jewel walked around the table, knife still in hand and dripping with blood, and stood over me. As she looked down, I could see up her dress, since it was so short, and noticed that she was completely hard.
"Come now, Peter," Jewel said in her airy voice. "I've barely even started and you already want to stop?"
Jewel carefully bent down and pulled my chair off the ground, sliding it back up to the side of the table with ease.
"You killed her!" I shouted, still trying to break loose from my ropes. "You killed her, you cunt!"
Jewel, who had started walking around the table, stopped and turned to scowl at me. Her eyes narrowed and her teeth let a growl slip between them. It was the first time I had ever seen her openly show anger and I immediately began to regret speaking.
"How dare you use that word," Jewel growled. "There is nothing wrong with having a vagina. It's not some dirty thing that you can just use as a crass insult,"
"You murdered a woman," I screamed, "and you're going to criticize me for cussing at you?"
"That word is used to demean women," Jewel hissed. "It's men's way of treating women like objects,"
"It's just a word!" I said. "It depends on how you use it. Either way, it doesn't change the fact that you just killed a pregnant woman for fun!"
Quickly, Jewel dashed back around the table to stand over me, her steps booming like the sounds of approaching horses as the hard cock inside her dress waved with every movement.
She now stood in front of me, the bloody knife still in her hand. Then, she raised the blade and smiled. "I'm going to make you bleed for saying that word,"
Before I could yell, Jewel leapt behind me and began slicing off my right ear. The blade burned as though it was made of fire and I could already feel fresh blood gushing down the side of my head.
"Stop it!" I shouted in agony, the meat in my ear ripping with every rapid movement of the knife.
Jewel didn't seem to hear and kept sawing away at my ear, stretching it out with one hand and cutting with the other. Meanwhile, I continued to scream and hot blood kept streaming down my cheek.
When she was done, Jewel tossed my ear onto the table, which made a loud splat noise as it slapped against the wood.
"You're a monster!" I cried, as tears poured over my face and warm blood slid down from where my ear used to be.
"And you're rude," Jewel laughed, before pulling on my second ear and beginning to cut it off, too.
The pain, for some reason, was worse this time. My head was throbbing and seemed to ache the more I screamed. Jewel's cuts were now slow and weak, which made carving off my second ear last even longer than it should have. Every time she eased the blade across my ear, I let out a cry, sometimes having spit fall down my face and onto my legs. I could no longer smell the flower-scented perfume that Jewel wore. Now, all I could smell was the overpowering scent of blood, my blood.
Finally, Jewel tore the ear off with her hand, splitting what little bits of fur and flesh that still kept it attached to my head. I then let out a final scream as my ear tore away and was tossed onto the table in a pool of blood alongside the other one.
My head and shoulders began to shake uncontrollably as I cried, my eyes crinkling shut. Now that I couldn't see, I was able to feel the top of my head being heated by blood and my cheeks becoming frozen by the icy streams of tears.
After I finally opened my eyes, while sniffing and whimpering through the curtain of tears that were wrapped over my vision, I saw Jewel pick up both of my ears. She then turned her back to me and walked around the table, taking a seat in her chair once again.
_ _ I would have wiped the tears away, but, since my arms were tied up, I had to let them all roll down my face and drip onto my lap. Soon, I even began to feel slivers of blood creep down the sides and back of my head, like hundreds of twisting snakes. I must have looked awful.
Jewel still didn't seem to care about my tears or my blood. Instead, she plucked one of my ears off of the table like a grape and dipped into her soup, keeping her fingers on it at all times. Then, she raised my ear, which was dripping with brown soup, and bit into it. Her teeth cut through the flesh easily enough. She also had no problem chewing as the flesh and fur squished loudly inside her mouth.
Disgusted, I felt my stomach curl inside me. And, even though I tried not to, I threw up all over my lap. The soup I had eaten was now splattered down my tunic and trousers, mixed with some brown mush that smelled like shit. The smell and bitter taste left in my mouth made me throw up again. Less came out the second time, but now my nose felt stuffy and was burning, as though someone had poured hot wine into it. Luckily, there wasn't any more food left in my stomach and I only threw up empty air the next few times that I heaved.
I looked up from my lap, which was covered in a warm blanket of reeking vomit, and watched Jewel eat my second ear. Unlike my first ear, Jewel ate it in one gulp and started to eat her soup with her spoon.
"I'll kill you," I said, my throat still burning from the vomit. "I'll make sure that you spend your last moments in pain,"
Jewel quietly sipped some soup off her spoon and set the utensil back into the bowl as she smiled. "I'll sew your lips shut and string you up like a scarecrow in my courtyard the next time you threaten me,"
The dhole then picked up her spoon and ate the rest of her soup.
Once her soup was gone and she blew the candles out, Jewel went into the next room, shutting the door behind her.
A few moments later, the dhole came out in her doublet, trousers and boots from earlier. She easily untied me and quickly escorted me back to my cell.
"This was delightful," Jewel said, speaking in her airy voice when we were alone in the cell room much later. "We'll have to do it again tomorrow night,"
Jewel locked my cell once I was inside and, without waiting for a response from me, walked towards the door at the end of the hall.
I collapsed onto my dirty mattress once Jewel was gone, barely managing to sit up, and stared down at my stinking clothes, which were still covered in vomit that was now hardening.
I took off the tunic, turned the clothing inside out and used it to wipe away the remaining tears from my face. Then, I cleaned off all the blood from around my head, or at least as much as I could without seeing my reflection. When I was done, I pressed my tunic against the top of my head, where my ears had once stood. Now I know what Dante felt like when he had his ear cut off.
_ _ At first, I smiled at the thought, but then felt my eyes starting to water again. Dante... If you're still alive, please hurry.
_ _