CHAPTER TWO – STOLEN IN THE NIGHT
There will always be moments in life that change its course entirely. These moments are often dreaded and the cause for stress and fear. Dax’s moment came the night beastmen invaded her home of Vista.
In the light of the house, the beastman looked the very part of his title. Muscled and burly, the male stood tall in a fierce posture. Wearing nothing but a torn-up pair of brown pants, his furred bare chest showed the deep scars of many battles… and bore the blood of slaughtered villagers. His fur was midnight black and glistened with what one would assume was more blood. His sharp canine teeth were bared in a sinister smile as his golden yellow eyes flicked from one sister to the other.
Lance’s hand gripped Dax’s in a vice like hold. She had her sword raised, the point aimed at the beastman and, somehow, the weapon was steady in her grip. Dax could feel Lance’s entire arm shaking as she gently pushed her little sister behind her, but she didn’t let the blade in her other hand show any of her fear.
Amazingly, through the terror Dax felt, a beam of pride shone for her older sister.
Eyeing the blade, the beastman’s smile widened, showing off even more of his horrifying animal teeth. Seemingly amused at Lance’s attempt to protect her sister, he touched two fingers to the edge of the blade and pushed it away as he stepped closer to her.
“I don’t think your sharpened toothpick here will do much damage to me, lass.” His voice was deep and rough, hard to understand. Dax felt panic bubbling up inside of her, but Lance didn’t back down. She repositioned her sword, this time touching the point to the beastman’s chest.
“Leave our home,” she ordered him, her voice loud and commanding, but there was a trembling in her words. Dax heard it, and so did the beastman.
The beastman rose his hand again and this time gripped the blade tightly in his fist. Lance and Dax both gasped as blood welled up around the beastman’s fingers and seeped across his knuckles to drop to the floor. In the silence, the sound of the droplets hitting the floorboards was deafening.
Grinning again, the beastman’s eyes glinted as he looked Lance up and down. “You have loads of gut’s girl, and I would hate to waste them on the floor. I would rather they stay intact with you by my side.” He licked his lips as though eyeing a morsel of meat.
Lance, now pale and visibly shaking, straightened up as much as she could under his dangerous gaze. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you filthy mutt!”
Despite his size, the beastman stuck fast. He whipped the back of his hand across Lance’s face. A loud ‘crack’ resounded, and Lance was thrown to the floor from the force, her sword leaving her hands and remaining in the beastman’s grip. He stared at the sword for a moment, then threw it aside. It clattered to the floor and slid into the shadows, out of Lance’s reach.
But not out of Dax’s.
As the beastman moved to Lance, bending down at her side to grip her hair in his bleeding hand, Dax, appearing to have been forgotten, silently slipped into the shadows to retrieve the sword. She gripped the pommel just like Lance had shown her. It was sweaty from her sister’s grip. Lifting it was hard; the metal was heavier than Dax had expected.
Lance stared up at the beastman as he lifted her by the hair effortlessly, his face inches from hers. “You will serve me,” he spat at her, no longer smiling. “And you will enjoy every minute of being my slave. It will be an honour for you, you little-“
“Let her go!”
The world seemed to stand still. Dax held the sword in her hands, her arms shaking from the strain and the adrenaline that rushed through her. Even though she was armed, though, as the beastman turned to her and stood up to his full height, she felt completely defenceless.
The beastman released Lance’s hair and she crumpled to the floor. Staring up at her sister, she shouted at her. “Dax, don’t! Put it down! He’ll kill you!”
Dax shook her head, raising the point of the sword a few inches off of the floor. The sword was too heavy for her, and she curse herself for her weakness.
“Dax!” Lance pleaded.
“No! I can do this, Lance! I just need to-“
The beastman kicked Dax in the chest and she was launched into the air before hitting the wall behind her with a sickening thump. Her head stuck the wood hard, and she felt her consciousness battle to remain. Darkness clouded her vision as she slumped on the floor, trying to regain her bearings.
She could hear the beastman laughing and her sister crying out to her. She tried to raise her hand. Her entire body was heavy, just like the sword. The blade shone in the light where she had released it after being kicked across the room. It was too far away. She couldn’t do anything.
Lance watched as the beastman looked to the sword. He was thinking, she realised. Thinking of how to kill her little sister. He began to walk to the sword. Time was running out. Dax would die.
Tears were steadily flowing from Lance’s eyes. She knew they couldn’t win this fight. They would be paying a price tonight, but she refused to let her sister be that price.
“I’ll go.”
Two words. That was all it took from Lance for her fate to be sealed. Surrender or lose all she had left. In the end, the choice wasn’t that hard to make.
The beastman stopped midstride and turned to her, that smile returning to his face. Dax said something from where she struggled to stay conscious across the room, but Lance couldn’t make it out.
“You’re choosing slavery for your sister’s life?” The beastman wasn’t asking. Lance never had a choice, but he was interested, it seemed. He turned to Dax behind him and laughed out loud. It sounded more like a roar than laughter.
“Her? You give it all up for her?” He shook his head at Lance, eyes burning with curiosity. “How strange the bonds of love seem to be between humans.”
Lance spit at him, her spittle barely travelling two inches. “I would give up a hell of a lot more for my little sister,” she hissed at him, her eyes seeking out Dax’s. Dax was looking up at her, still barely conscious but holding on long enough to look at her sister for what Lance believed would be the last time.
The beastman didn’t give them any longer than a second. He strode to Lance and untied a rope that he had been using as a belt. Lance’s eyes never left her sister’s as her wrists were tied together.
Dax struggled to find her voice as waves of nausea rolled through her and darkness flickered in her vision. “Lance… don’t go… please…” She managed to reach out as Lance was hauled to her feet. Dax needed to touch her. To let her know how sorry she was for failing. To tell her…
“I love you, Dax,” Lance said, her eyes never leaving Dax’s as the beastman dragged her to the door. She didn’t fight, just stared at her sister with a weak smile on her face before she was pulled out of the house and into the night.
Dad howled after her, her voice broken and weak. “Lance! Lance!!” She struggled to get to her feet. She had to go after her. She couldn’t lose her. Knees buckling, she stood and took one step… only to lose what was left of her consciousness. Like a snuffed flame, Lance was gone, and Dax fell to the floor as the inevitable dark took away everything else.
LATER
In the darkness, Dax felt nothing. She floated on air, it seemed, unable to think or feel or remember the night everything fell apart. With no awareness, she was content to stay there in that unconscious world and believe that the darkness was all there was.
A gentle touch at Dax’s wrist coaxed her back from oblivion. Hesitantly, she allowed herself to begin waking. Fingers curled around her wrist, and she used the touch as an anchor point, leaving the darkness for the reality outside.
With a start, Dax finally came to, sitting up so fast that that her head spun sickeningly, and her empty stomach protested with a lurch.
“Whoa, easy there, girl. Easy.” The hand holding her wrist released and touched her shoulder instead, gently pushing her back against the mattress beneath her.
Dax struggled to make out the person, a woman she believed, speaking to her. “What… where?” she croaked, her words raw and sharp in her throat.
The woman’s shape started to come into focus as she gently rubbed Dax’s shoulder in a motherly manner. “It’s alright, girl. Just breathe for now. We’ll speak in a moment.”
Finger’s wrapped around Dax’s wrist again. Dax realised she was measuring her pulse and lifted her wrist to give her easier access as her eyes roamed about the room. Able to see clearer now, she took in the richness of the chambers. Tapestries of red and gold adorned the walls and thick carpet the colour of crimson cloaked the floor. Pictures were hung, depicting past rulers of Vista and other family members of importance. The king’s face had been removed, replaced by queen Korinia’s. Dax swallowed hard. She immediately knew that she was in the castle. Memories of her last visit here immediately after the death of her parents stuck hard and tears welled in her eyes.
Another memory hit home.
Last night… Her sister…
Dax’s hand shot out and gripped the woman’s forearm. Taken by surprise, the lady’s eyes widened and flicked to Dax’s. Breathing hard, the youth couldn’t stop the tears as she asked the question that she wasn’t sure she wanted answered.
“What happened to my sister?”
The woman turned out to be named Tansia, and she was the queen’s head doctor. She was gentle as she informed Dax that her sister had been taken, along with many other townsfolk, by the beastmen three days ago. None knew why Vista had been attacked by them or which clan they came from. Where they had taken their prisoners and what they planned to do with them was another mystery.
After the explanation, Dax sat back heavily and started listlessly at the blanket resting over her. Tears rolled down her cheeks silently, her body trembling. Tansia kept hold of her shaking hands and sat in silence with the youth, knowing there was little else she could do for the moment.
Minutes passed before a knock at the door started both Tansia and Dax. Tansia called for the person to enter, and a female servant walked inside with a steaming bowl of broth. She was young and shy, her eyes full of sad pity as she looked over at Dax.
Tansia took the bowl from the young servant with her thanks, then encouraged Dax to eat. It took time, but the girl started to feast on the broth, though she still hadn’t said a word. Tansia could almost see her mind working as she took in spoonful after spoonful of the food in her lap. It looked like she was forming a plan and Tansia was glad to see some life returning to her as she finished the bowl.
Dax touched the doctor’s hand and smiled weakly. “Thank you for your help, Tansia. I appreciate it, but I need another favour. I need to speak to the queen as soon as possible about my sister.”
Tansia grinned back and let out a soft laugh. “Well, young Dax, I believe that can be arranged. Queen Korinia has been asking to speak to you the moment you were well enough.” Tansia eyes the empty bowel in Dax’s lap. “And seeing as you have polished off your meal, I’d say you’re ready for that audience.
Queen Korinia’s heart was aching.
Since becoming the queen, she had done everything within her power to bring peace to Vista. She had worked hard and fast to repair the damage done by her tyrannical brother, focusing mainly on mending the rift between the poor and the rich of the city. She loved her people dearly and was confident it had shown through her actions.
However, she couldn’t help but feel as though she had failed them. Twenty people had been taken by the beastmen. Their fates were unknown. Somehow, she had been too weak, too inexperienced to save them, and her heart broke for each citizen affected by the loss of those twenty people stolen in the shadows of the night.
Korinia gripped the edge of the strategy table as she stared hard at the wood, an intricate image of the surrounding lands carved into the oak. Every member of her strategists had spent the afternoon with her planning how to get the twenty citizens back and though a plan had been created, she couldn’t heal the guilt from in chest. Guilt for failing her people, guilt for being a poor queen… and guilt for the one who would hunt alone to retrieve the missing people.
Silva, the captain of her guard and her right-hand woman, would be the sole huntress for this mission. Vista could spare no others after the attack. Vista’s defence needed to be strong, and its people needed to see every guard ready to protect them with their lives.
She could spare only one, but luckily Silva was by far the best woman for the job.
Silva was ready for the hunt. She had polished and adorned her armour, cleaned and sharpened the blade of her spear, and said a prayer to the Goddess of the Hunt, Nemanor. With one last glance at the mirror before she met Queen Korinia, she took in her gleaming armour with pride.
Long ash-blonde hair hung in a braid over one shoulder. Her tanned skin was tight with just enough muscle to intimidate, but not so much as to slow her movements in battle. Scars covered her arms and torse beneath the steel of her armour. One long scar crossed her nose horizontally, another sliced sharply through the corner of her left eyebrow. Icy blue eyes pierced the glass of the mirror. She looked fierce and tense, ready for the fight.
Inside of her chest, her lioness stirred in anticipation, and a rumbling sound rose in her throat as it let out a warning road to those who would harm her.
Silva gently rested a hand to her chest and internally calmed the beast.
‘Not yet. Be patient.’
The lioness settled back in the depths. Being a werecat, the guard captain felt the soul of her lioness like another being entirely, and just like the fierce huntress herself, her lioness longed for the battles she would surely face.
For now, though, the pair had to meet the Queen to receive official orders.
Then the hunt would begin.
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