Page 3 of Seized to Sacrifice
Rye just stopped himself from snapping the man’s neck, the anger he felt on her behalf at odds with his hatred for her.
‘Do you usually enslave those you find in need of help on the road?’ he asked instead.
The slaver had the gall to shrug. ‘This is the south. What do you fucking expect? There’s no work. We all need to make a living.’
Rye had heard enough. He let a small dagger fall into his palm from where it was hidden in his sleeve. He plunged it under the man’s ribs, twisting it before pulling it out and wiping it clean on the slaver’s already stained tunic. The man gargled, his eyes rolling back in his head.
Rye let him fall to the road in a heap and turned his attention to the wagon. He walked around to the back and peered inside, finding three men in chains. He recognized them from the other cages in the market. All three looked up, but there was no hope in their eyes, only resignation.
Rye shook his head. ‘Can all of you walk?’
‘Aye,’ said the biggest one furthest to the back. ‘I can fight too. Name’s Eruk. This is Fech and Oreon.’
‘Don't need you to fight,’ Rye said. ‘Just need you to walk. If you can, you may all find a place as freemen on my lands so long as you don’t shun honest work.’
‘What about our Writs?’ asked Eruk.
Rye shrugged. ‘Your Writs mean nothing to me. The cheery cunt lies dead if you want to search him.’
He set them in free and the one called Fech immediately turned and ran off into the forest, not looking back.
‘I wouldn’t run off if I were you,’ Rye called, but the man was already out of sight.
He snorted. The fool was already dead, he just didn't know it. The other two found the slaver where Rye had left him. Oreon kicked his body a few times while Eruk rifled through his tunic. Finding his paper of ownership, he sneered at the slaver’s corpse.
‘Fucking prick,’ he spat, crumpling it in his fist.
Ryder’s ears perked up as he heard a whisper on the wind. As he’d predicted, something was coming.
They heard screams not far away, and the other slaves blanched.
‘Told him not to run off,’ Rye murmured, walking into the forest without hesitation. ‘If you want to keep your newly freed hides, it's time to go.’
He heard the men follow but didn't bother to look behind him as he made his way back to her. She sat at the base of the tree, looking up with vague curiosity when she heard them all coming.
Eruk looked at her dispassionately. ‘So, you keep this one as a slave, but you free us? If this is a trick, I’ll fucking gut you.’
‘You’re welcome to try, but no trick,’ Rye said as he untied her and pulled her to her feet.
‘Ah!’ He snapped his fingers. ‘You keep her for your pleasure,’ he said sagely, looking her up and down with new eyes.
Rye didn’t deign a glance, didn't answer him either, but he finally saw an expression flit across her face at Eruk’s words – the first he’d seen since leaving Evesmere.
Fear.
He snorted softly. If rape was the worst of her worries, she had no idea what punishments she was in for.
After tying her to the horse again, he mounted.
‘Come,’ he said, ‘and keep up.’
He took them back to the forest trails and they journeyed until the full moon was high and the men saw his fortress embedded in the hillside. It shined in the lunar light, as imposing and striking in the darkness as it was in the day. They went down the hill into the valley below, travelling quickly as Rye knew these routes almost better than anyone.
They reached the gatehouse, the portcullis already open and waiting for him as the guards would have heard them coming up the road.
They went in and the irons closed quietly behind them. Rye nodded at the guard who watched them from the parapet. He dismounted, leaving his horse In the middle of the square for the servants to take care of. He unbound the woman and grabbed her arm, pulling her towards the main hall where he knew the others would be.
Anticipation crawled through him. What would his Brothers say – if they weren’t struck mute by her presence, that was?
