The Vixen Trials

A Stranger

"Instead of killing his target, he's brought
her along for a cuddle."

Keilah

Dakkoul flinched, his eyes fixed on the soldiers ahead. "Yes."

She gulped. "But why? I would have sworn you saw her as your mother too, back then."

There was a hardness to his voice she'd never heard before as he answered, "She was. But now I am your uncle's assassin and I have learned the hard way to not cross him. To save you this time is enough."

Keilah shivered and patted Wicker's neck, a comfort in a world that seemed suddenly to have been snap-leafed. "I didn't know my uncle kept an assassin. Or even that you were a slave. At least now I know why you did not come back. You promised you would."

"And here I am keeping my promise." He stretched his arms out wider before a jolt from the horse beneath him made him scramble to tighten the reins.

"You are," she said even as she frowned. They were going up one of the mountains that fringed Vene-Jakaan and protected it from too much outside attention. The villagers had valued their isolation and now her mother had broken it. She shivered. The Wayvolkan soldiers would probably come for them too now, unless she could persuade her grandmother to stop them. Just seeing how much they had changed Dakkoul tore at her heart. She had to ask. "How did come to own you?"

"Remember how my family left the hidden valley to return to my people?"

"Of course. I was so miserable after you left, eventually my parents decided to leave too."

"You missed me then Keilah? You were so cold when you said goodbye."

"You were cold too," she protested, remembering how disappointed she had been with his casual farewell.

He fiddled with his reins. "I was excited about going north to become a man. Instead I was captured by a group of Wayvolkan soldiers. I struggled so hard to escape that one of them died. I expected them to retaliate, but instead they laughed and sold me to your uncle to be trained as an assassin."

"Surely there is not much use for your skills?"

"Use enough. I don't mind when they are Wayvolkan. I'd rid the world of them if I could." He rode ahead so she could only see the back of his too-short hair.

"I'm Wayvolkan," she muttered.

"Your family is different, because of your mother," he said with the tone of one granting a benevolent concession.

Keilah folded her arms across her chest. Dakkoul was like everyone else who disliked her heritage. The disappointment threatened to overwhelm her excitement.

They had passed the outskirts of Vene-Jakaan. The men ceased their chanting and a derisive voice called out, "Look men, see the Hattavah." Captain Taanach pointed at Dakkoul. "How brave he is."

The soldiers turned around, smirks already on their faces.

"He's chosen to defy Lord Rustavan. Instead of killing his target, he's brought her along for a cuddle."

The men jeered, looping their beards in her direction. Keilah flushed and Dakkoul moved his horse closer to hers, so close their legs were touching. "Ignore them."

"We all want some fun too, Hattavah," leered the captain pulling at his straggly beard that failed to loop. He pinked and let go. "That will be the price you pay for her passage."

"Me, first," said the soldier directly in front of her. His curved nose overhung a pool of snot that he dabbed away with a folded cloth as he ogled her.

"No, me first Grent. You can have her after. Don't worry, Hattavah, we'll keep her in one piece." Captain Taanach sniggered. "Because nothing is more entertaining than watching the punishments Lord Rustavan devises. He knows how to make his victims suffer."

There was a rumble of agreement from the men and more unkind laughter.

Keilah felt a whoosh of fear unsteady her and she slipped a little in her saddle. 

"I won't let them harm you," Dakkoul said, such strong self-belief underscoring his words that she righted herself and shut her ears to the vile jokes they were exchanging, chatting to Dakkoul about any trivial topic that occurred to her with such an unconcerned air that eventually the men fell silent. When they stopped turning around, she stopped talking.

"Well done, Keilah," Dakkoul said in a low tone. 

In his own way, he was still her friend. She threw him a half-smile and ducked to miss a low hanging branch covered in moss. "I should be used to teasing. The Vene-Jakaan liked a joke at my expense well enough."

"I think I did too." His tone was light-hearted but his eyes searched her face until she pretended to be distracted by a drab brown bird that flew past them. She did not want to say any more. He was still too much of a stranger, even if something in her longed for their old closeness and the crazy fun they used to share. His leaving had marked the end of her childhood.

Behind her came the pounding of a horse. Someone was racing towards them. Dakkoul spun his horse around and reached for his blade and Keilah gulped. Who was coming?