Chapter 4-The Hounds

Galadan scoffed as he looked over the reports in the Duke’s office. They were all useless now but reading them amused him. The Duke’s country was falling apart while he lived in splendor. He smirked at one of the reports, finding it funny how he was already having rebellion stir. It was a wonder that they had not taken over years ago. He frowned down at the report, taking it in before he threw it, no longer amused.

“Gods, this place is a disaster,” he leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up against the table.

Lance looked away from the window, his arms crossed as he narrowed his grey eyes at him, “Call on the gods, are you? Did you not just destroy their temple yesterday afternoon?”

He glanced at him dismissively, “Oh yes, not ten minutes after noon, to be precise.”

“I was just making an observation, no need to be an ***,” he glared at him, “What are you going to do with the royal family?”

He smirked, “I’ll throw Immor to the dogs,” he said, “And I will have the queen—”

Lance corrected him, “Duchess.”

“Please,” he said with a scowl, rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers, “They call themselves that but the man was practically living like a king.”

“But there is a King of Woreden,” Lance frowned slightly as he sat down in front of the desk to study his expression, “What are we going to do about him?”

“The King of Woreden?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, and a laugh caught in his throat as he tried to contain himself but could not for long, “Are you joking?” he leaned forward his elbow on the table as he tried to contain his laughter, “He is nothing to my armada, and my knights could rip his castle apart in one afternoon. Do not make me laugh.”

“We have never gone up against Woreden,” he said with a frown, “Perhaps we should consult with his Majesty.”

Galadan felt his face get hot, his jaw clenching as he lowered his head, his hands trembling atop of the desk, “Do…not…speak of my father and his council to me.”

Lance looked away with a cluck of his tongue, “Fine,” he said, “We will not ask him, but are you not claiming Woreden for him?”

“No,” he answered with a frown, “Why would I be claiming it for him? He said get out…I got out. If only he knew I would take half his army,” he grinned, “He should have known bastards stick with each other.”

Lance studied him, “At least you acknowledge what you are,” he stood, “Be careful though, people may think you really are a bastard of the king.”

“He’s my father,” he said with a sigh as if he was reluctant to admit it, which he was, “The Queen’s my mother…and they think I can only ruin something when I touch it.”

He studied him with a saddened expression on his face, “Everything is going to go as planned then, you will prove you are capable of ruling Woreden? Why Woreden?”

“This Isle is comfortable,” he answered as he stood and went to the window, leaning against it with a smirk on his face, “It will do just nicely…I want to shake things up.”

“Well,” he said with a roll of his eyes, “Executing the Queen—duchess person…will certainly shake things up. Or you could marry her. She is after all, only thirty-three.”

Galadan gave him a weak look, imagining himself throwing Lance from the window, but a different image came to his head. Lance was twenty-four, maybe he could marry the duchess. He snorted at the idea, imaging that Lance would probably stab the duchess in her sleep.

Lance’s eyes widened slightly, “I know what you are thinking, have you forgotten that I am a happily married man?”

“You cannot put happy and marriage together, you donkey,” he turned as he walked towards the door.

Lance puffed his breath out, “Donkey?”

“Prepare to publicly execute that bitch and her spawn,” he turned, “I’m going to have fun with the daughter for a while.”

Lance frowned at him, feeling a shiver up his spine, “Disgusting.” 

...*** ...

The chains hurt, but the guards dragged her by them despite her cry of pain. She felt them digging into her skin and the rush went straight to her head. She glared at the back of the guard’s head as he dragged her across the stone of the castle. She tried to shift her legs to get up, but the chains were wrapped tightly, and she could only keep her face from dragging against the ground by pushing her hands to the floor, but her hands were getting scraped painfully.

The guard walking next to the one dragging her, chuckled, “You would not have to worry about your face getting scratched up, chit, the dogs will not care.”

The guard dragging her was silent, his eyes narrowing slightly as he continued their way down the hall. She grunted in pain as she bent herself upwards, trying to sit up, but the guard kept pulling her down. For a moment she was ready to launch herself forward and grab onto anything to attack with, but there was nothing around. Her eyes scanned effortlessly, and she felt hopeless.

She cried out again as the back of her head struck the floor, sending a wave of dizziness that only angered her more. Tears of pain filled her eyes, and she felt her hands gripping at her head at the woozy feeling.

The guard spoke again, “Stop moving around if you do not want to get hurt too much.”

The silent guard finally snapped, “Would you shut up?”

He frowned at him, “What is with you? She is going to get mauled and it will be fun to watch.”

“She’s a seventeen-year-old girl,” he snapped, “Shut up or I’ll shut you up.”

“You are the one dragging her,” he said with a grin, “Oh? Are you going to say it was orders? You are just a sorry excuse, old man.”

The guard was silent again as he continued to drag her, but she fell silent as she studied the guards with a frown on her face. She did not believe that people acting on orders of evil were good, but sometimes she wondered if there was some good. She did not know, but she did know she was hurt and angry, and she would kill blindly if she had a blade on her. 

...*** ...

The guard dragged her out of the castle, and she braced herself as they finally reached the back of the castle at the servant’s area where they hung up their wash. All the lines were still up, but there were no servants and no laundry. It was all bare, with the large empty cauldron sitting on the ground where it had been knocked off the stand to be held over the fire. There was no way to move the cauldron which was why it was probably left there.

She finally managed to sit up, feeling bruised and broken though she knew she was not. She glared at the guards as they stood to the side waiting and the door finally swung open. The captain stepped out and glanced at her dismissively before he turned away. A moment later, the prince of the devils himself came out.

His eyes fell on her and he smirked slightly as if he was enjoying himself, “Ah, Princess.”

Her eyes rolled and she muttered, “Ah, bastard.”

“You must be tired,” he said, not hearing what she said though he was curious, “That is all right, my dogs will not take energy…just your flesh.”

She glared at the ground, her fingers cold from the chill on the air. Her dress was thin, and they did not let her get a cloak or anything before she was dragged outside. She decided that since she was about to be covered in blood than she would be warm.

“Anything to say before I release my hounds?” he asked with a grin, his eyes taking her in.

She frowned at him, “Not all of us like to run our mouths,” she turned to look away with her chin raised.

He turned and shouted, “Release the hounds.”

She heard them then, the barking of the dogs and fear raced through her heart but then she frowned slightly and her fear sank inside of her. She was not afraid, she thought, she was cold. She pressed her lips together and raised her fingers to look at her white skin. She was very cold, and she would probably get sick. The barking got louder and even Lance looked nervous, his fingers twitching on the pommel of his blade.

Galadan bent over and whispered in her ear, “I hope you like Basser Bringdon hounds.”

She blew her breath out and tilted her head away from him, “I wish you would like to clean yourself, not all of us have the excuse not to bathe.”

Lance pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh as he turned towards Galadan who was rolling his eyes, “I will go check on the men,” he turned and walked inside, shivering because he did not want to be around when the dogs attacked.

Galadan smiled as he stepped to the side and nodded to his guards who were both shaking in fear. They hurried inside though the talkative one stood at the window to watch. Already she was gathering quite an audience at the windows. She glanced up at them and looked at Galadan, wondering why he was not going inside.

A smile touched his lips as he stepped to the wall and jumped, gripping the top before he pulled himself up and sat down.

He grinned as he put his elbow on his knee and his finger to his lips, “Do not scream too loud.”

Her eyes narrowed, “I’m not squeamish around blood.”

The dogs ran around the corner of the servants, quarters, their long legs launching them at a devilish speed. Their black eyes seemed to glow as the sun shone down on their thick black fur and her eyes went wide at the sight of them as she pulled her arms back and sat forward, her breath hard. The dogs leading them howled and rushed forward and Galadan sat forward, a smirk on his face as he waited for them to rip her apart.

She raised her arms out towards the dog as it pounced, its maw open and its paws outstretched towards her. The dog landed on her, its paws on her chest as its nose touched hers.

She smiled as her breath slowly draining out from her as she stared into its intelligent brown eyes. She was instantly surrounded, but they were just standing there staring at her. The lead dog leaned down and licked her cheek, making her blink before she gritted her teeth and reached up, brushing her hands into its fur. She sat up, making the dog back up on its hind legs, its massive body towering over her as it kept its paws her shoulder.

She reached up and continued petting it, her eyes cutting to Galadan who stared at her though he was entirely bored with the ordeal, “These…” she said, “…are not Basser Bringdon hounds, they are Wildwood Woreden hounds, and they are mine.”

Galadan narrowed his eyes at her, his jaw gritting in anger. The hounds that he owned had been ripped apart by these ones once they had gone into the woods and he thought they were wild.

She stroked the hounds, fur, holding him close as she kissed the top of its head, all the other hounds began whining their heads bumping into her for attention though not all twenty could get to her.

Galadan stood from the wall, landing on his feet, “Very well,” he said, “Then I guess it is execution from here. Rein your dogs in or I’ll have my men slaughter them,” he smiled, “You can spend the night out here. A bitch to a bitch.”

“I’m spending the night out here, prince,” she said with a smile, “Not inside.” 

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