Larin

"I don't know, I have to go!" she said, feeling sick. She ran up the stairs and pulled the curtain on the tiny window. She could hardly see anything through the foggy glass, just dark shapes. Her heart was racing, but she had to know. She crept to the top of the stairs to listen.

"...might have passed through here. Pretty, nicely built, goes by Larkin. Long auburn hair."

Larkin was frozen in place. It was him. Not just soldiers, he was with them! Her vision swam.

"... pass through here," Abel was saying. "We don't get many travelers through here at all, just peddlers and loggers. If I see anyone.."

"How much did you say the bounty was?" Blain interrupted.

"One thousand gold."

"That's a lot of money. What did this woman do?"

"It's personal."

"She run off when she was supposed to marry you?" Yoseph asked.

"Something like that. Like I said, it's personal. Have you seen her?"

"I haven't, but we don't get much gossip out here. I was curious."

"If you have information on her, one thousand gold is a lot of money. It could set you up as a lord here. If you take me to her, I might be persuaded to let you fuck her."

"Hey now! We don't hold with that talk here," Abel said angrily. "No one has seen this girl of yours so you just move along."

"I require a room for the night."

"Overton is a few hours up the road. You can make if before night if you hurry."

"Are you refusing room and board for the night? Do you know who I am?"

"No idea. I don't care."

"I am Wynter Bixby. Yes, you have heard of me then? So you know I am not a man to be trifled with."

"Abel!" several shouts poured in as men came in. "Seven ales! Where is Simona?"

"She slipped home. Her mother is sick."

The room went silent for several long moments. "Maybe I should see if she needs anything, her mother healed up my broken hand a few months back and didn't charge me," Yoseph said quickly.

"Yeah, you are right. She helped me with those boils too. We should go see if they need anything. Some wood split. Come on guys," Blain added quickly, nervously.

The room when quiet as boots shuffled out the door.

"I see," Wynter said softly. "I think I may stay a bit longer than a night. Have a long look around your town. Show me to my room."

Larkin fled to her room as Abel showed Wynter and the men with him to rooms. She kept the door cracked and peeked out. Wynter looked... different. He had a scruff of a beard and his hair had grown out quite a bit. He also looked tired... and so angry.

She quietly shut the door and slid down it, sobbing. How had he found her? Had he really tracked her here or was he just looking everywhere? Why couldn't he have just left her alone?!? Wait. Slavery was outlawed here. He couldn't take her, not if everyone knew who he was and what he was trying to do! No. She couldn't face him.

She huddled in her room all night, not daring to peek out. After dark, in the small hours of the morning, there was a rustle at her door. "Simona?" Abel whispered. She peeked out and he handed her a bundle. "Food," he whispered, watching the hall. "The boys have spread word. No one will talk, he will leave. Wynter Bixby! Simona... Larkin... do you know who he is?"

"The man who made me a slave and tortured me," she answered quietly.

Abel closed his mouth grimly and nodded. "Stay in here. He won't get his hands on you, not from anyone here."

Larkin spent the next three days pacing and fretting herself sick. There was enough food in the bag to last her a week, all she had to do was keep the door locked and stay quiet, but she was going crazy with anxiety. Trying to look out the window was more frustrating than helpful, but she couldn't help but do it constantly.

On the fourth day, there was a rap at her door and she let out a breath. Wynter was gone. She could come out now. She opened the door and her smile dissolved as Wynter stood looking down at her. She stumbled back and tried to slam the door shut, but he came in, driving her back to the basin, knocking it over.

"Oh, Larkin. You have led me on quite the merry chase, haven't you? Do you know what I am going to do to you?" he asked, his eyes bright with a fervorous madness. Larkin let out a wail.

"No! You CAN'T! Not here, slavery is illegal here!"

"If I were you, I'd be on the floor, kissing my feet and begging forgiveness. Come now girl. Let's go see your first lesson."

He took a handful of her hair and lifted her, shoving her ahead of him as he went down the stairs. Larkin screamed and struggled when she saw Abel and several of the woodcutters on the floor of the inn, all of them dead. There had been a fight.

He shoved her outside where another twenty woodcutters were being held under guard. Only Yoseph was standing off to the side with some of the soldiers. He stepped up when they came out. "You said I could... fuck her." he stammered.

"I said I might be persuaded. She has a lot of punishment coming before she gets to enjoy anything resembling a good fucking."

"But I can still leave with you, right? You said I could. They will kill me if I stay here."

"You can ride out with us, but be on your way in the next town. You have enough gold to disappear and live like a king. Men, mount up. If any of you think to follow," he said to the woodcutters, "I will put you down like the dogs you are. Stand up Larkin, stop struggling."

"Just kill me!" she wailed.

"No. No, you will not be getting off that easily. Mathilde begged for death too, weeks before she found it."

Larkin sobbed helplessly as he drug her to a horse and threw her over it. He bound her hands to her ankles, the rope running under the horse. Like she was a saddle. For a moment, she feared he meant to use her as one, but he mounted his own horse and took the reigns of the one she was tied on to.

He set a hard pace out of the village, the opposite of the way she had come. She was only two villages away from a port city she realized. When they arrived in the night, he yanked her down from the horse, then brought out a pole. He laid it across her back, pulled her arms around it until her elbows were hooked behind it, then he tied her hands in front of her so she was bound to the pole. He had his men set it up on two forks to hang her up, then he tied her ankles together, then to the pole, wrenching them higher and higher until she was screaming and her feet were close to touching her back.

He moved back around in front of her and pulled out his knife as she panted, trying to breathe. He sliced her dress open down the front, her breasts exposed to the world. She noticed then, the fire being stoked and the brand being heated in it. She tried to struggle and she pleaded with Wynter, but he did not listen. He paced, an angry stalk as he waited for the iron to heat until it glowed. He finally lifted it and gave her a grim look.

"Hold her," he ordered and two of his men took hard hold of her. He pressed the brand just above her left breast, over her heart and she screamed, then smelled her own flesh burning as he held it there, looking down at her in grim satisfaction. He finally pulled it back and threw it down on the ground. He grabbed her jaw, digging his fingers in hard enough to bruise, but she hardly noticed over the pain of the burn. "Did you fuck another man?" he asked, his voice full of rage.

"No!" she wailed, trying to hunch and ease the burn. Her joints were coming close to dislocating and he was holding her jaw so hard she had blood in her mouth, but she only felt the searing burn.

"Now you are mine, branded like the whore you are. How many men did you fuck to get yourself here?"

"None! None! Please, it hurts!"

"You don't know pain yet. How many men?"

"None! I swear it!" she panted, starting too hyperventilate. Black spots filled her vision and she passed out.

When she woke, she could feel a cold metal collar around her neck and her wrists and ankles. She was on a ship, in a cabin. Her chest burned and she sobbed as she tried to move. She was secured to the bed she was in, spread eagle with no clothes on. There was a bandage on her chest, over the burn, but that was all she could tell.

Wynter opened the door and glared down at her. "How many men did you fuck?" he demanded.

"None. I dressed as a boy. I walked."

"Liar."

Larkin closed her eyes, trying to stop the tears. "After everything you did, there is no way I would let another man touch me in that way. Ever. You made me hate men."

"So you hate me now. It was all an act."

"No. Not all of it. That is why I ran, I would not let myself care for such a monster. I hated that I did. I had to get away before it got worse."

"How many men did you fuck, Larkin?"

"None! I hid, I walked, I dressed as a boy. I sold the horse and clothes and got passage on a ship. That is it. I didn't have to sleep with anyone, I would rather have died than have to let another man touch me that way! I would rather die than let YOU touch me that way again. I will. I will kill myself the moment I am able. Anything is better than you, even death!"

He laughed derisively. "You think you will ever be unbound again? No. You have years of being bound ahead of you. Being bound, force fed, punished daily. You will never know peace again in your life, Larkin. For what you did to me, you will spend a lifetime praying for death."

"What I did to you?!? She screeched angrily. "What could I have possibly done to you? I worshipped you and you beat me and raped me and made me do things!"

"You made me love you! You made me love you and then you ran, throwing it in my face. I was coming back with a wedding dress for you. It was all an act, you were just a good whore."

Larkin stared up at him in disbelief. "You did not love me. You never loved me! You wouldn't do the things you did to someone you loved!"

"You have no idea how I feel! What I would do when in love. It no longer matters. You will be treated like the whore you are. Staked out at night for my men. Stocked in every town we go through. I may even let the horses have a go."

"You are a monster! If you hate me, why couldn't you just let me go?!?"

"And let you make a fool of me? That will never happen. You are mine to punish and I will see it done."

"Just kill me," she said, giving up. She stared at the ceiling, letting her mind go.