“What… What do you mean stole me?”
“Ah…” Maruk whipped around to look down upon Aida, panic settled in his soft eyes before he threw up his hands in something close to defeat. Sighing hard, he flung an arm towards the wall of the tent, pointing at whatever lay beyond. “This I will not answer, Lady. I beg you ask it of His Majesty or Tor’en. They will give you far more than I can.”
“But, Maruk, I—” Aida jumped up from her soft bounty to rush towards the back of the tent as a dark, hulking figure filled the doorway. Not until Ath’asho’s tense features materialized from the shadows did she release the breath she held.
“He wishes you to hurry. Scouts have found a path leading further into the mountains that breaks into the forest, but it will be a hard trek,” Ath’asho said, gaze centered on Maruk as if he didn’t dare glance at Aida.
Gone was the simple kindness he’d showed her in those first days. Suspecting he disliked her as much as the rest of them now, perhaps because of the jagged cut and purpling bruise over his right eye, Aida refused to let her lip tremble. It must not have been that long since the scene in Er’it’s tent if the crusted scab and indigo tinged hues were any indication. Sniffing in the haughtiest way she could muster, Aida turned her back to both males as if it didn’t make her skin crawl and began fussing with the various pelts. Making more disorder than anything resembling packing away the things, she didn’t give up her pretense until Maruk came to her side and stooped to gather the dark furs into his arms.
“His Majesty wishes you to dress in the clothing he’s sent, and we will go to the cart.” Bundling the soft furs into a heavy crate, he pointed at a neat stack of simple colors that looked nothing like anything she’d owned before.
Narrow eyed, Aida approached the clothing as if it were venomous. Poking at the crisp folds until it tumbled open from the folded packet to reveal another of Er’it’s tunics. This one redolent with the pungent scent of musk and cedar. A wide swath of dark fabric that could be a skirt was just as tainted, leading Aida to bring it up to her nose to give it a delicate sniff.
“Abyss take me,” she hissed, tossing the thing away from her as she realized what he’d done, the tacky film of it still coating her fingers.
“Please, Lady,” Maruk said, imploring her with his sad russet eyes as much as his tone. “It was the only thing to calm you the day before, and we cannot risk it with so few here to control him.”
“So I shall go around bathed in-in…” Aida’s hands flew up into the air, at a loss for the words Er’it used in his rasping tones against her skin in the moments her mind refused to bear witness to anything but the deep seated pleasure he gave.
“Please, Lady. We must hurry.”
Aida lost her fight against the tears once more as she struggled out of the tunic she wore. Jamming her arms into the fresh one, yanking it over her head, she took solace in the prickling pain of torn strands and cloth grating over her skin. Biting her tongue hard enough she tasted the flat iron of blood, she sorted out the skirt, something she stepped into and tied around her hips with thick bands of fabric which made the open edges overlap. At least she was somewhat decent despite the lack of a true bodice, no proper stockings or even footwear. Cutting off her own questions as Maruk’s pallid face kept turning towards the tent opening, she stomped barefoot and livid out of the tent.
Feeling the pull of him the moment she breathed in the fresh sunshine and the cool air blasted her face, Aida turned the opposite direction. Angling towards a cart laden with things she had no name for, she pretended not to notice the way her skin prickled and burned. Slowing her steps as Maruk rushed to take the lead, he guided Aida towards another cart. This one barren of all but more furs and soft blankets, a few small crates tucked away to the side holding fresh fruits and the leather bags of water.
Aida snorted as she viewed the spread, wondering why he would pamper her now that she knew the truth of it. Guessing he was only fattening the lamb for slaughter, she scrambled up into the flat bed of the cart with Maruk’s help. Fell into a graceless heap amid the jumbled furs as the skirt wrapped around her ankles with a stifled shriek that somehow brought Kal pounding towards them.
Not on his rider’s command if Er’it’s enraged eyes and the deep lines scoring his features said anything. Hooves sending up heavy clods of dirt and scrubby grass, Kal bellowed when Er’it jerked on the leather harness surrounding his head. Rearing up onto his back legs, Kal threatened to toss Er’it right off.
Aida didn’t realize she was screaming, reaching for both animal and rider until Maruk grabbed her about the waist. Pulling her back over the wooden frame where she’d tried to vault over the edge. Kal’s front hooves came down with a booming thunder that made the earth tremble, wild eyes fixed upon Maruk.
“No, Kal,” Aida shouted at the same time Er’it did. Which one of them the beast listened to mattered little, not when he stopped brandishing his horns and making his challenging brays. Even less to Aida as Kal backed away, snorting with sides heaving while he shook out the knotted strands of his mane and jerked the reins loose in Er’it’s hands.
“You have one responsibility,
