At dawn, Lyklor pushed a foot into Lymerra's rib to wake her. She hissed and scrambled to her feet.
"Here. Put it on," Lyklor commanded, as he thrust Lymerra's cloak into her hands.
She fingered the fabric and stared back at him.
"Don't want no one else seein' we got a devil all roped up. They might try and snatch ya, take their piece instead. All that work for nuthin'." Lyklor spat on the ground and waited until Lymerra pulled on the cape and lifted the hood over her head.
"Good girl, now not a fuckin' word," Lyklor grinned as he unfastened the manacles from Lymerra's feet and moved them to her wrists.
Their party continued through the forest. New trails began to appear between the trees, eventually winding themselves to conjoin with the main path. The road became increasingly worn and messy with horse and mule droppings and the recent rain left everything damp and misty; the earthen smell in the air increasing tenfold.
The pines grew space between each other until the land seemed more grassland than forest. Buildings loomed in the distance, smoke curling in the air from a dozen or so fireplaces. A stone bridge crossed the river into the town, the water flowing healthier than it had further up the mountain.
Lyklor had tightened his grip on Lymerra's chain more and more until the two walked as a close pair.. She could feel his body bumping intentionally against hers, and when she peeked from under her hood at his face she could see that he was smiling. His teeth were mostly brown except for a singular silver canine.
Her blood boiled, but still nothing came to her. She had stopped trying to whisper incantations under her breath.
As the sounds of the human village began to fill her ears, Lymerra wished desperately to look around and take it in. Lymerra could count on her hand the number of times she had been into the Drowian city, and this would be something else entirely.
Lyklor strode into the little town of Rustfield followed by his brother on horseback. He slid a cool arm around Lymerra hips pulling her even closer.
"You're gonna keep being such an obliging little devil for Rudd when I go inside to see what's what. And If you don't, well I can't tell you what's gonna happen except for I won't be here to protect yeh." He was still smiling.
"Stay out here and find something to do wid her that doesn't draw no extra attention. I'm gonna go inside and find out where our trader friend has set up his good business."
Lyklor ran a gloved hand through his long greasy hair and open the front of his coat as he made for a brown brick building with a black smoking chimney at the center of town.
Rudd held Lymerra's chains but did not move from his horse. She could feel his gaze cutting through the side of her cowl.
"If I have any chance to escape, it will be now, while this mongrel's brains are out of earshot." Lymerra thought. She had kept her wrists stiff while Lyklor has fastened her chains, in an attempt to provide herself more wriggle room should the opportunity arise.
Rudd
YOU ARE READING
The Dark Elf
FantasyLymerra, a Drow stolen at birth, finds herself the only Elf to survive escape from the underground city of Fae-Ander in one thousand years. Burnded with an impossible purpose, she must navigate the surface world alone, hiding her true identity. She...