Another ordeal

 

Althea dragged herself behind Ervin, who was walking far too fast. She had to run to keep up with him. They had been walking for almost an hour, and her legs ached terribly.

He turned in a corner and headed toward the city's tavern. Her chest tightened in fear. Why were they going to the tavern?

"Ervinn" a man called out, grinning with a gap where his front tooth should have been. "Only the wealthy are privileged to see you these days."

"Is Jeromy inside?" Ervin asked.

"Yes, yes." The man adjusted his loose trousers. "Is there a problem?"

"No," Malachi smiled. "I have something I believe he'll be very interested in."

The man tilted his head, eyeing Althea, who was hugging herself for warmth. "Well, well. Who do we have here?"

"Let me in. Quit asking questions," Malachi snapped, growing impatient.

"Come, come." The man pushed open the wooden door. "He'll be pleased." He licked his lips, his lustful gaze lingering on her.

The stench of stale booze and the savory scent of roasted pork hit them as they stepped inside. Her stomach growled in response.

Malachi led her through the smoky room, weaving past groups of drunken men gambling and shouting. They stopped at a small door, and he knocked twice.

"Code?" a voice asked from within, opening the door slightly.

"Blood," Ervin replied. 

The door shut briefly before swinging open just wide enough to let them through. It was locked behind them.

The room was well-lit. A man with a potbelly that made him look pregnant sat behind a table, sipping ale and counting gold coins.

"Ervin" he said, looking up. "What a... pleasant surprise." His eyes quickly shifted to Althea, filled with the same hunger that made her skin crawl.

Ervin took a seat at the table, while Althea stood frozen, trembling and unsure of what was going to happen.

"I see you've brought company," Jeromy smirked.

"Yes." Ervin glanced at her. "She could be yours—for the right price." He smiled.

Her heart skipped a beat. The night was cold, but sweat formed on her brow. Her father was selling her.

"How much?" Jeromy leaned back in his chair.

"Ten gold coins," Ervin said calmly. "She's all yours.

"Seven."

"Ten, or nothing." Ervin crossed his arms. He knew Jeromy was a greedy scoundrel—this was the only way to make him pay full price.

Jeromy examined her once more, then nodded. "Fine." He tossed a heavy pouch across the table.

Ervin counted the coins. They were all there, complete. If he couldn't sell her to the palace, at least he'd made a profit.

He rose to his feet. "Have a lovely night."

"Father, please," Althea sobbed, clinging to his leg. "Don't do this to me."

Ervin kicked her off without hesitation. "Get away from me, you filthy wretch."

He spat at her and walked out, never looking back.

"Hey, girl!" Jeromy barked, silencing her cries. "You're mine now, so quit the sobbing." His grin sent a shiver down her spine.

He finished counting the coins and gestured to the two men beside him. They carried the money bags away while Jeromy approached her.

Althea backed up until her body hit the cold wall, trapped between it and his bloated belly. He ran a finger down her cheek, making her shudder with fear.

"You and I are going to make love all night long," he said, his breath foul and hot on her face.

"Please... let me go," she begged, barely able to speak through her fear. "I'm but a child."

"Shut it! He hissed. "Don't lie to me or I'll have you beheaded." 

Jeromy grabbed her roughly and dragged her from the room. Outside, his carriage waited, his men standing at attention. Althea cried, praying for someone—anyone—to help her. But no one spared her a glance.

He shoved her into the carriage and climbed in after her. The coachman cracked the reins, and the carriage jerked into motion.

"You're such a beautiful girl," Jeromy whispered, leaning closer. Althea recoiled. He placed a hand on her lap, squeezing it. "I'll take good care of you."

Althea wept silently, whispering prayers to whoever might be listening. "Please, help me." Tears rolled down her cheeks. 

She couldn't be used like this. She wouldn't survive it. How was she supposed to send the rest of her life warming his bed.

Suddenly, the carriage rocked violently, throwing her to the floor. Jeromy gripped the door handle for balance.

Then it stopped.

"Anderson! What happened?" he barked.

"The wheel came off!" the coachman called back. He went back to pick the wheel, the wood holding it in place has snapped into two.

"Why are you blocking my path?" An all too familiar voice asked. The coachman fell to his knees, his head on the ground.

"My apologies my Lord." He shook with fear. "The wheel came off." He showed it to him.

Althea heard the voices outside. She noticed that Jeromy was tensed. Whoever it was clearly wielded more power. He could be her saviour, only if she knew he was far worse.

Mustering the last bit of strength in her, Althea began to scream. "Help me! Somebody please help me!"

"What are you doing?" Jeromy yelled, trying to muffle her screams by placing his palm over her mouth but she bit him.

Althea forced open the door, and she got out. She rushed towards Caysen, falling at his feet. "Save me, please!" She begged.

Caysen looked at the coachman then at Jeromy who now stood before him. "Who is she?"

"A slave which i have just purchased, my Lord." He bowed. "

"Lies!" Althea retorted. "This man has kidnapped me, and he wants to use me as a tool for pleasure, please save me."

"She's a liar! I didn't kidnap her, I bought her." Jeromy replied. "My coachman is my witness."

"Keep quiet!" Caysen silenced him. "She now belongs to me." He turned to his guards. "Bring her along."

"My Lord," Jeromy stood up straight. "My apologies but you can't take her for i—"

With a swing of his blade, Caysen severed off his head, splashing blood on the carriage and Althea. His decapitated body fell to the floor, beside her.

Althea screamed in horror as she stared at the dead body, and her body shook violently. Her eyelids grew heavy and she fell unconscious.