Chapter Twelve

Get along little doggies

Wherein our male heroes are kidnapped for a nefarious (naughty) purpose, Sark gets a sword and the author uses a swear word!

 

She and Julian walked next to each other with her father and Marshall behind them.  They were outnumbered and even with their guns someone, Marshall, still might get hurt and she didn’t want to risk that yet.  She exchanged glances with her father every now and then.  His looks told her to be patient and wait for an opening.  Standard really, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

 

They’d been walking about twenty minutes; she was eyeing the women nearest her, when Julian yelped.  Her head whipped around and she stared, Mister Sark had just yelped.

 

He moved closer to her and was glaring at the giggling females slightly behind him.  She glanced at them too; they were whispering to each other and tittering.

 

“What happened?” she hissed at him.

 

He looked at her sullenly, “One of them pinched my bum.”

 

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, finally she managed a hoarse, “Excuse me?”

 

His face grew petulant, “One of them pinched me.”

 

She darted her eyes back over to the tittering group and leveled her best Bristow glare, with a hint of the universal ‘he’s mine, back off’.  They promptly shut up and put a bit more space between them and her.  She scooted around behind Julian so she was walking between him and the women on that side of the loose circle.

 

She glanced back, her dad and Marshall were beginning to look more worried.  Well Marshall was, but she was sure he dad was too, by the fine lines around his eyes.

 

She turned back to Julian, keeping her voice low, “Well you can’t really blame them,” she discreetly patted his rear.

 

He stared at her aghast, “I’ve just been violated and you’re making jokes!”

 

She rolled her eyes, “I’ve been felt up more than that on countless missions.”

 

He narrowed his eyes, “By whom?”

 

“That doesn’t matter now.  We needed to get away.  I’m liking this situation less and less.”

 

“Yes, I agree we need to take our leave of these Amazons, they’re disturbingly reminding me of those daughters of that lady who gave us a lift last time,” he warily eyed the women before continuing, “But as there is no opportunity at the moment I’d really like to hear about these ‘countless’ missions of yours and why wasn’t I ever on the other side of them?”

 

Despite the situation she smiled, “You knew who I was, I couldn’t exactly seduce you for information.”

 

“I could have feigned ignorance.”

 

She giggled and glanced over her shoulder, sobering when her father shot her a reprimanding look.  She turned back around and glanced around at their captors before letting a small smirk cross her lips.

 

“As for the missions, well there was this one time a certain someone passed along some information about a certain server 47,” she watched a small smile flittering across his lips, “I had to wear several different lingerie outfits on that mission.”

 

He tripped over an exposed tree root and she grabbed his elbow as their captors eyed them warily.

 

“Several you say,” he licked his lips, “What’d they look like?”

 

She squeezed his elbow, the trees were thinning out and the peaks of houses could be seen through the branches.

 

The circle around them tightened when they entered the village.  She keenly took in every detail as they were marched through the village.  She was slightly unsettled to find the majority of the inhabitants were also female, there were a few young boys, toddlers through pre-teens, and one or two gray-bearded old men but the overwhelming majority was female.  And they were all interestedly watching the procession.  She shared a glance with Julian.

 

They were escorted to a rickety, single roomed cabin on the edge of the village and were forced inside, the door promptly slammed shut behind them.

 

They stared at each other for a moment.  Finally she spoke up, “I’m not sure why they brought us here, but I don’t need to stick around to find out.”

 

There was agreement and a hastily hushed conversation.  Sydney stood by the door, peering out between the slats of the cabin while the other’s tested the boards for a way out.  The cabin was shoddily built and they could feasible kick out a board, but for the noise.  She silently indicated that there were only three guards outside and the others continued to look for a quiet way out of the cabin.  They’d been left with their packs, but again nothing they brought with them would help in a quiet escape.

 

As she peered through the cracks she noticed a large group with an old, hunched over woman in the center moving their way.  The elderly woman was walking slowing and with a cane whiles the group around her fidgeted at the pace.  She turned and silently signaled that someone was coming.  Once they were almost to the cabin she backed up to the center of the room.  By the time the door opened Julian was casually leaning against the wall, covering up the board he’d been trying to work free and her dad was also standing in front of a small gap between the boards.  Marshall fidgeted in the corner looking guilty.

 

The wizen crone thumped into the cabin, several women fanning out against the wall behind her.  Sydney crossed her arms and coolly regarded the whole lot of them.

 

The old crone thumped a few more steps into the room and peered at them, paying more attention to the others than Sydney.  The old woman nodded to herself while more than a few of the other ladies were openly eyeing Julian.

 

She narrowed her eyes wanting to just get the conversation started.  All this silent appraising was getting on her nerves and she wasn’t used to being ignored, “I’m not sure why you brought us here, but we’re just passing through, we don’t mean to intrude on your land or anything.”

 

The old woman snorted and leaned on her cane, getting worked up as she went on, “Intrude on our land?  Ha!  That northern red hussy of a queen says this land is hers not ours.  We came here looking for help and compassion and what’d we get?  War, lack of food, our men folk off fighting these interminable civil wars.”

 

The old woman paused for breath, seemingly warming up to her subject as the younger women behind her sighed and rolled their eyes.

 

“Those Trolls,” she spat on the floor, “they drove us out of our kingdom and we came here for help, aid.  Instead we were met with more troops, told we had to go back.  Ha!  Go back to what, so we hunkered down, been here ever since….”

 

The old woman droned on but Sydney ignored her, having gotten the jest of her rant and an unsettling inkling as to why they’d been taken.  Mostly women in the village, men off fighting, the way they were eyeing Julian, though Marshall and her dad were getting some looks too.  The group in the cabin looked like they were used to the old crone’s ranting and were just going to wait it out.  There was one young, ginger-haired woman by the door who gave her a rather apologetically glance and when she turned her head as someone jostled her the light fell across her eyes making them flash momentarily gold.

 

Something about gold eyes, tickled at Sydney’s memory, but she shook it off and interrupted the old crone, “Yes, yes, terribly unfortunate for you.  But I fail to see what all that has to do with us.”

 

The old woman looked like she wanted to thump Sydney with her cane and the women behind her looked relieved that the monologue was over.  She hoped the old crone tried to hit her with the stick, respect your elders be damned, she’d crack the cane over her knobby head.

 

The old woman scowled and shrewdly eyed her, “The men folk are off all the time, fighting the war or run off to marry some northern hussy, yet they expect us to raise a family, more boys to fight…”

 

She could hear Julian, Marshall and her dad shifting about behind her.  She almost, almost smirked, it would have been funny if they weren’t being held hostage at the moment.

 

After another considering look the old crone thumped back out of the cabin the women filtering out behind her, a little disappointed looking.  The last one to leave was the ginger-haired woman who gave them another sympathetic look before closing the door behind her.

 

Once the door was closed she dashed over to peer out the cracks, three woman stood guard while the larger group moved away.

 

“Three guards, the rest are leaving for now,” she hissed back, turning.  Her father and Julian were working at the same gap now while Marshall looked a might confused yet.

 

“Wait, why are they holding us?”

 

She glanced at the others but they were busy prying at the boards, which were holding better than one thought possible.

 

“er, the dating pool is kind of limited here.”  At Marshall confused look she sighed, “All the grown men are gone, there isn’t anyone to help procreate the next generation.”

 

She mentally patted herself on the back for her creative, non-graphic explanation that the women wanted to use the three of them as sex slaves.

 

Marshall’s mouth made a giant ‘O’ as he figured it out, but she was too busy with the sudden thought of sex slave coupled with Julian.  She hastily turned away before her face gave anything away or she just jumped him right then as he was crouched over pulling at a loose board.  Peeking out again she noticed the ginger-haired woman was headed their way with a bundle in her hands.

 

“Someone’s coming,” she scooted back to the middle of the room while her dad and Julian lounged in front of the somewhat larger gap in the wall.

 

The ginger-haired woman entered alone and the door closed behind her.  As Sydney speculated all the different ways she could over-power the other woman she started talking.

 

“I’ve brought you some food,” she set the bundle down, glancing over her shoulder.  When she turned back she lowered her voice, “I’m sorry, I don’t think what they’re doing is right.  They’re trying to decide what to do with you first,” she glanced at Sydney, then pulled back her cloak handing Sydney a sheathed sword.

 

“Here, most of these boards are loose you should be able to use this as a lever to get them apart.  Once you get out run as fast as you can, they don’t stray too far from the village so they’ll give up if you get further enough away.  But watch out for other groups from other villages.”

 

Sydney took the sword and eyes the younger woman, “Why are you helping us?”

 

“Because,” she glanced over her shoulder again, the light falling on her eyes, glinting gold, “I don’t think its right, snatching people out of the forest, holding them against their will.  Now you better go, quickly.”

 

She left the cabin without a backwards glance.

 

Turning she exchanged glances with her dad and Julian.  After a mutual consensus of shrugging she handed over the sword to Julian who wedged it between two boards.

 

“This might get a little loud.”

 

Walking over to the door she took a deep breath and started swearing, loudly, in Korean.

 

Exerting a little pressure and with a few swift kicks a board broke loose from the wall then another.  She kept up her swearing as the others grabbed their packs and squeezed out the opening.  Julian’s face peeked back in at her and she stopped her swearing, glancing out at the three guards.  They hadn’t moved and didn’t look as if they were going to check on them any time soon.  Snatching up the bundle of food then her pack she quickly crossed the room, squeezing through the opening, Julian giving her a hand up.

 

Glancing around, they were on the edge of the village and the clearing; they hurried into the dark forest.

 

 

Despite the warning they stopped a short distance away to check their position and which way to go.  Julian lifted his watch/compass and pointed the direction they needed to go then dropped his hand to rest on the hilt of the sword now buckled around his waist.  Like she, he had removed his cloak and had it stored away in the packs.  She stared at the sight of him; tall boots, tight pants, hand negligently on the hilt of the sword belted low around his trim waist, loose shirt covering his tones, muscular torso, his exposed, deliciously slender neck, knowing smirk as her eyes finally made their way to his face.  Her eyes met his and it was like the blue of them sent a spark of electricity down her spine.

 

The sounds of Marshall flailing through a bush recalled her to the real matter at hand, getting away not pouncing on Julian, like those tarts had clearly wanted to, not that she could completely blame them.

 

“Shall we luv?” he titled his head after her father and Marshall, smirk still firmly in place.

 

“Yes,” she vaguely answered, that smirk got to her every time.  Turning she followed in Marshall wake.

 

They hurried as best they could but the going was a bit difficult now that they didn’t have any paths to follow.  Her father was in the lead followed by Marshall and then her and Julian.  Julian’s hand seemed to have become attached to the small of her back, the warmth and pressure irritating her to no end.

 

They heard no sign’s of pursuit and they didn’t encounter anyone else as night descended, making travel trickier.  Marshall had tripped for the third time in ten minutes and she was about to call a halt for the night when a cabin suddenly appeared out of the trees.

 

Chapter Eleven ~ Interlude Five ~ Tell us a Tale