Caught in the Fox’s Teeth

Chapter 11: Taryn

Dryndenn continues on with his prayer, I can hear the smirk in his voice. “I beg that the gods continue to bless and favor us during our most dire hours and that they will see fit to gift us with new blood to carry on our noble name and heritage. I pray for the son we’ve lost but thank you for the daughter we gained…” his palm slides up and down the outside of my thigh before creeping toward the inside.

I tune out the rest of the long winded, bullshit blessing. I don’t want to hear another word about Odin blessing me with his seed or whatever vulgar euphemism he uses to pray that his son f***s me really, really well. Hearing references to my s*x life in a dinner prayer is a first for me. I cringe. The obsession he has for mine and his son’s nonexistent s*x life is beyond creepy. The fact that he is actively trying to push up my skirts as he drones on about my inevitable impregnation is f*****g disgusting. My fertility has been the focus of all our discussions. I’m no better than livestock to these people. A breeder who is only good for the blood in my veins and what lies between my legs. I have half a mind to run from his arms and drag Ullo from the table so I can f**k him out of spite. No. Not Ullo. He’s far too loyal to these self-important cunts. Maybe I can petition one of the stable hands to mount me like a b***h in heat and spoil me for the Vulpins. A smile curls up my lips as I picture the look on the lord’s face as he tries to creep into my room to defile me only to find me rutting with one of the stable lads. If I was positive that action wouldn’t result in certain death to the man I chose, it would almost be worth it.

I scheme while picking at the meager spread before me. My appetite has spoiled long before I came to sit at this table. I want nothing to do with this dinner, but I choke down what I can; I don’t know when my next hot meal will be. Dryndenn offers me bites of his own food, claiming I will need the energy for what is to come. He’s right. I’ll need to keep up my strength for the tough journey ahead of me. When looking up from his fork, I meet Dryndenn’s unsettling gaze. When he winks at me, I nearly vomit. With great difficulty, I swallow down my pride along with the bile rising up my gullet and risk a smile back at the lord. His returned smile only twists my stomach further into knots. His hand continues to wander up and down my inner thigh. Each stroke brings him closer to my heat. I wince with every pass of his hand. Please let this dinner be over soon. Let him be struck down with indigestion or better yet, a stroke. Whatever needs to happen to this man to stop him from pawing me further. Where are these miracles when you need them?

After the excruciatingly painful dinner, I excuse myself from the table before Dryndenn can stop me. My reasoning behind my early dismissal was because of my exhaustion. My limbs sag wearily. I make a show of barely being able to keep my eyes open. Slowly making my way out of the dining room, I scuff my feet on the stone floor and wobble slightly. I want to give the impression that I am dead on my feet. I could not possibly be expected to perform any more grizzly and grotesquely s****l tasks. The lord’s eyes shine at the notice of my exhaustion. No doubt he is anxious to join me in my bed.

“Do you need help up to bed?” Ullo asks companionably. I half turn and smile wanly before thanking him for his assistance and leave no further opportunity for members of the party to excuse themselves with me. Step by excruciating step, I channel the same energy that I exuded after Bowen’s funeral. I am so immersed in my act that I almost trick myself into being tired. Ullo guides me carefully to my chambers, balking at the wreckage within. “Um…” he starts but shakes his head deciding he doesn’t want to know.

“I’m fine. It’s fine.” I say hurriedly and thank Ullo for his help before shuffling past the destruction, I had almost forgotten the disaster awaiting me. Now my door is propped against the wall rather than in the middle of the room; that’s a small win at least. My glass treasures still lie shattered around me. I can’t begin to make myself care right now. I’m almost out of this hell. I could practically kiss Dryndenn’s boots for inadvertently freeing me from the weight of those possessions. They had come from my childhood home back in Daodan, but with their destruction came a sense of liberation. A sense of freedom. I’m not shackled to things. There is nothing physically keeping me here.

I lay down on my bed to rest but did not to sleep. I’m a trembling mess waiting for Dryndenn to follow through with his threats. When I don’t hear his thudding steps heading towards my door, I breathe a little easier. I don’t know what keeps him from my rooms but whatever the cause is nothing short of the miracles I find myself so reluctant to believe in. I will wait here in the silence of my dark room until I’m certain all others are asleep. When the sound of quiet moaning and grunting drifts along the corridors, I know I am nearing the hour of my departure. Dryndenn has found his pleasure with another and the relief I feel is palpable. Have mercy on the poor woman’s soul.

If I still had my door I would have missed the telltale sign of a night coming to an end. The moaning reaches a crescendo before total silence swallows up the manor. Still, I wait. I’m assuming the high lord will be tired after his large meal, the vigorous exercise, and from being a complete asshole. I only have to keep my eyes open a few moments more. I am exhausted but my body thrums with anticipation. My hour of redemption is at hand.

When no other sounds ricochet through the halls and I’m certain everyone has crossed that thin veil into the realm of sleep, I grab my pack beneath the bed along with my prized bow and quiver of arrows. The speed with which I bolt from my bed and gather my things would rival the speed of a fae. Quietly and carefully, I slip from my chambers. A mouse loose in the halls would make more noise than I do at this very moment. Peering around corners, I creep slowly; mindful of any sound that might alert the few guards at their posts that something is amiss. I have a few moments between their rotation where I can slip out the door undetected. I know their rounds as surely as I know the back of my hand. While I have had the pleasure to know these men in my household’s employ, I do not trust them not to sound an alarm.

Sweat drips down the valley of my spine, settling low on my back. Turning the final corner, I see the back door. It is a beacon of hope in the darkness. Reining in my excitement and joy, I remind myself that there is still trouble ahead. I am not yet free. This whole ordeal feels too easy. I can just see it now; I make it all the way to the stables only to have a sweaty palm clutch my shoulder as I’m about to sneak off into the night. I would look up and see the high lord himself, flaring nostrils and all. Then I’d be dragged back to the manor, kicking and screaming. That’d be the end of it. The end of me. I’d be guarded day and night. Hell, I’d bet the fucker would even shackle me. I feel the world start to spin as the walls begin closing in around me. Stilling my breath, I calm my mind and count slowly to three. The high lord is not here. No guards are on my trail. I am one step away from being outdoors and that much closer to my freedom. My trembling hand grips the handle to the door. Air breezes past my sweat soaked garments before I’ve even realized I’ve pulled the door open. Before me lies the great expanse of land that is to guide me home. My true home. The world is at my fingertips; I just have to reach out to grab it.