Gaea - Chapter 7

Note: This bit continues to get more serious. Next chapter is far more adult. For anyone reviewing this, please make any suggestions about the imagery if you can. I really want Hilga to be seen vividly in this piece as it is the most dramatic situation I never wrote before.

On to the chapter!

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Chapter Seven

Carrying the girl in his arms through over the threshold of the temple the pungent odor of death, sweat and blood so offensively struck the senses it could be tasted by the very act of regular breath. An impish man in a black cloak awaited Raquil, differing from Brother Raye's garb only by the potent odors of feces and musk which had stained it a disgusting collage of brown and black filth.

“I'll handle it from here, Raquil,” he said extending out his arms to take the body.

“Later,” Raquil said, passing by the man and continuing down the hall.

“I have much work to do. Woman or not, you simply won't play-”

Raquil's footsteps came to a sudden halt and he asked, “Are you going to stop me?”

A snarl escaped the man's lips, “I'll overlook it for a thousand gold.”

“Overlook the body or the delay?”

“Delay of course, I can't simply let a white-haired cadaver-”

“It's dyed.”

Slowly, the man moved over to the girl and poked his hook nose into her hair, breathing in deeply, “Simply wonderful, but yes... its just dye, from Cabao I believe...”

Knowing the man was becoming suspicious, Raquil propped the girl's body up in his air and grabbed a tuft of her hair, yanking it from her head and a crack of bone snapping as he tore the hair from her head, “Great, I think I just broke her neck. Fragile creatures ain't they, Neex?”

Holding out his greedy little hands the man accepted the donation of Hilga's lock of hair, “When you are done with her there will be nothing left to sell, so keep her for two thousand.”

“Tell Kek that I won't be able to fight again and you can take my pay and keep it for yourself. Today's number is three, five, four.” Raquile started to walk again, knowing Neex would entirely forget the matter for the right price.

“Thank you, kind sir. I won't utter a peep about your 'likes'.” Neex said as he bowed politely, believing he had screwed Raquile out of his earnings, possibly worth a hundred live whores and just to play with the battered corpse of a foreign girl. Status meant little to him, a body was a body in the end, even those of esteemed royalty were the same as a peasant's in his eyes, and because of that he was the perfect man for his sickening trade. Somewhere between too dumb to matter, and wise enough to handle unsavory business masterfully.

Turning his attention to the young cleaner carrying the woman's armor, Neex directed the boy with a wave of his arm, “Dump it there in the pile, lad.” His voice filled with boredom and restraining any excitement of the riches he will soon claim for himself.

Raquil swung open the steel door of his prison-turned-home down in the dungeon, the thick stone walls and solid steel would prevent him from being disturbed for several hours at least. His room was as simple as could be expected for one who regularly fought for his very life, nothing was ever permanent in his room, but luxuries had made their way inside after some time. Two white sheeted beds were pushed together into one for his massive frame, a series of anvil and traditional weights strewn the floor, and a large table with but a single iron chair for eating. A few leather bound books were hidden as a dirty secret, tucked under a pile of dirty clothes and chamberpot, one day upon his passing they would be discovered and he hoped that his ability to read would be forgotten quickly.

He set Hilga down upon the bed, pulling out a trunk from underneath its frame. The old wooden trunk, rotting and damaged by termites from long periods of storage snapped open with just two flicks of his finger. A mess of various crude soap, a wine bottle and clothes were contained within. With one hand he grasped the wine bottle and with the other overturned the trunk's contents onto the floor.

Satisfied he could hide the woman inside it, he closed it for the moment and slid it away from his bed, the trunk grinding against the stone by its iron joints. Standing over the woman he uncorked the bottle and shook his head at her, “Can't believe I am going to waste this stuff on you.”

In a massive drink, he guzzled down nearly half of the bottle before stopping for a breath of air, a long sigh to most, before pouring much of the remaining wine all over the girl's face and chest, staining her cotton shirt and sheets of his bed a dark red. Hilga let out a soft moan and rolled her head, her eyes opening slowly, gazing upon Raquile. He lay the bottle on the ground, just out of reach of the woman, to prevent her from using it against him.

“Can you think, woman?”

“Yes,” she grumbled as her eyes focused on the burly man.

“First, I want to know why you threw the fight?”

“So, you let me live after all,” she sighed with relief.

“No, you are as good as dead. This trunk will be your coffin. I want to torture you until your last. I owe that much to your kind after all,” Raquil placed his arm over her stomach and slowly pushed down with his weight. Hilga's eyes began to water as she restrained her scream, biting down on the inside of her lip, blood began to trickle out of her mouth, “Scream, no one can hear you.”

Taking his hand off her chest he grabbed her right hand and opened her palm, his left hand slowly caressing it before snapping back her pinky, the bone cracking loudly. Hilga closed her eyes and did not scream, her breathing fast and shallow, sweat started to pour out of her. Raquil commanded her again, “Still nothing? How about telling me why you are really here?”

She spit blood out of her mouth and raised her left thumb up into the air expressively. Raquile slowly bent back all four fingers on her hand, sparing the thumb as his trump card. Hilga's tears streaked down her face, but still she did not cry out. A thin smile spread across her face, knowing she was right in the end.

“Don't get cocky, I'm going to make sure you can't run or fight. It takes more then just pain tolerance to be one of us,” Raquil took her fragile leg in hand lifted her soft foot to his lips, “You cost me a small fortune, so don't mind me. Just try to relax.”

She pushed her foot into his nose, arching his neck back to near breaking point, “Enough toying. If I had no value, you would have betrayed my trust and killed me. If all you wanted was this body then I'll gladly break my own neck and let you enjoy yourself until my rotting flesh sickens and kills you.”

“Hmph, guess I am still a bad liar.” Raquil kissed the sole of her feet, “Who gave you the information?”

“Tenji, the merchant.”

“Your offering to the Ebon Masters?”

“The royal treasury of Frae.”

Raquil's eyes widened in interest, “Not bad! You certainly have the position to claim it, but why the unsurpassed offering?”

“I want the throne,” her foot ran down Raquil's face and into his mane, her toes pressing against his neck, showing who still has the upper hand.

The monster of a man could barely restrain himself, his belly began to shake as a vile laughter slipped from deep within. Captivated by sins so great, spoken so causally by such a fragile a woman, he couldn't hold down his arousal as it made itself known to the wicked woman laying broken upon his bed. Her dainty toes choking him as they pressed into his neck, “I LIKE! Your name, woman?"

“Hilga, the Usurper.”