I pull and thrash to get away, the long skirt has ridden up and puddles between us showing off my legs, and suddenly one of his hands flies down to catch my thigh to hold me down more. I gasp at the feel of his warm hand. One is now holding my leg the other my bleeding arm.
"Be still!" He commands it but fear has hold of me more than he does.
But I don't have a choice, the needle goes in and my once pull to get away from him is now me pushing my body against him, and I shriek in pain. He lets go of my bare thigh, thank god, but then wraps his massive arm around my waist to keep me close. All I can do is bury my face in his large salty neck as the woman behind us threads a needle through my torn skin. Oddly the heat of his body seems to be helping, then he growls low.
Is my master trying to comfort me? Surely not.
My arm is wrapped tight, and tears have stained my face and I hate crying. He peels me back and looks at me, "You did well."
I sniffle, and then I look down, he is covered in my blood, that cant be good.
"Come," He stands and puts me down, and I obey him and follow. Everyone stops and looks at us as we come out of the tent and my eyes settle on Clarain and I know her well enough to know she isn't happy. She is never happy but there is a difference.
"You're keeping her!" Clarain yells as we exit the tent. Now I know she is supposed to be a wife and all and they have more freedom but I'm pretty sure talking like that could get you slapped and Daddy isn't here to save her.
"Does that displease you?" He asks seeming to ignore her bratty tone.
"She damaged! A smear on our house!"
"She is that way because she protected you did she not, are you sure you wish for me to throw her away?"
My heart quickens, Throw me away?
She crosses her arms "Fine keep the beast if you want but I demand she walk with the whores as your bride."
I look around and see that we are packing up camp, after all, they did meet us halfway.
DaThoren looks down at me, "You heard her,"
I bow my head once and slip away but not before I notice that he does not wash off my blood. In fact, it does not seem to be bothering him in the least.
"You will spoil her!" I hear Clarain snap, "There is nothing worse than a begging dog."
I peek as I gather around the whores who stink, and not of mud and sweat but of wine, sex, and sweat. I snort because it's sour.
DaThoren grabs her jaw. "Stop speaking winch, you may have the title of my bride but you are not my wife I have yet to bed you."
I want to laugh, but I bit my cheek. She is the most spoiled out of all her sisters. Apparently, the Dorack men don't care for that.
It dawns on me that he is the only one in the last two days who hasn't taken up time in his tent to fuck and from what little I have gathered that's like their favorite pastime.
"Let's move out!" The eldest calls, and soon we are moving.
The wives ride the horses along with most of the brothers. The others gather on wagons and cows but us, the whores and the one filthy dog, we walk, and I'm so below the whores that they shove me to the back and tell me to keep away.
This is fine.
At least back here I'm not noticed.
Hours, we walk for hours, slowly leaving behind the forest surrounded by towns and villages. Now we are in thicker woods, more into the wild and less from human-touched land, there is no path. The whores are bitching, the brides are whining, and the help is getting hungry, and I do not deny that my legs are tired though I am used to long days in the heat. But finally, we stop at the call of the eldest brother. The whores fall to the ground in heaps, and I raise an eyebrow before sneaking a peek at the leader. He is bigger than DaThoren and has a beard, and unlike the rest of his brothers, he has red hair, quite shocking, and now more than ever I wonder what animal they used to shift to.
"Dog!" I hear DaThoren's bride and not wife call. I step over a whore or two and go to her.
"Your arm may be cut, but you're able to move, you will go with the other servants and fetch fruit and berries, I refuse for you to be spoiled."
DaThoren is not around, and he is my true master, but she has power over me as his chosen and I must obey. I grab a basket and set out on my task. Though I am used to obeying her for some reason her power over me now annoys me. Perhaps because I know when DaThorens interest in me has faded she will indeed be my real master, at least with her father I got breaks from her even if it was to get kicked. I look around as I start to walk away from the group. Apparently, we are on safer ground because the servants are all walking like they know the area and the Dorack men do not seem to be worried, they have broken out the wine. It makes me think about the servants they keep, I call them servants because they do not seem to be slaves or at least I haven't seen them be treated as such. Maybe only the people of Nim have dogs like me, which are treated even worse than slaves. It's actually weird to me, Nim is a place of cobbled streets and tiny houses and flowered land, clean, pretty. You would not think they would want dogs and slaves in their streets, but they do.
This land is dryer. Though is it a thick forest it's mostly dead, there is more dirt than grass and more crunchy dead leaves than green ones. I have to be careful because there are a lot of thorn trees here. I am aware now that it's meant to keep people out. I pick what I can find though honestly I don't know what is what and I hope I don't pick anything dealy. I like my head and my hair to stay on my body.
No doubt if they think I'm trying to kill them they will kill me.
It is when my basket is full of unknown things that I realize that I have no idea where I am.
They're going to think I escaped. Shit.