Chapter 10

I had been waiting for some time tide to the column in the nursery. It felt like hours, but my sense of time was unreliable. I tried losing myself in the web. Passion Mill was a community in turmoil.

Mane was frightened and dejected. Matthew was apparently alive, but in significant pain and quite confused. Many of those I had met were some combination of numb, afraid and hurt. Loss of the children was a significant blow to the community. Elk was heartsick. I don’t think he had lost anyone, but I remembered how he’d hoped to bring back strength and see his community strong. Like him, I saw no way to get from where we were to that strength.

Morgan was hard and cold. Even so, I felt his concern for me. How can you have deep care for someone you just locked up with a bunch of dead children? How can you have that concern for someone you were ready to kill? Was this some sick perversion of our ability to have compassion for those we would judge?

Eventually, the door opened. Stone and Mane entered, Stone again covering me with my own gun.

“My Lady,” Mane said, “we’re going for a trip. You’ll come slowly without fuss, won’t you?”

“You don’t need to call the slut lady.” From Stone’s mouth, slut sounded almost insulting. He was trying to remove everything else, to paint me as someone who existed only for her own pleasure.

“Old patterns are hard to change, Stone.”

“Might I shower first,” I asked.

“No.”

“I shall come slowly; I can do nothing else.

They walked me out to Morgan’s van. It was smaller and older than the vehicle Matthew and I brought. Morgan waited for us beside the van. He glanced at me, but focused most of his attention on Stone. Mane efficiently secured me behind the driver. He made sure that I could not reach forward with arms or legs.

“Stone, you drive. I’ll sit next to the prisoner and make sure nothing unexpected happens,” Morgan said.

“Sounds good. I don’t want her mouthing off the entire time to Brenhaven, so I’m going to gag her. Slut, open your mouth.”

I considered refusing, but he was menacing me with the gun. I opened my mouth, and the smell of urine assaulted me as he forced wet panties into my mouth. “You liked these so much last night, I figure they’ll give you something to remember.” I nearly gagged on the smell and taste. Intent matters, and in no sense was the repulsive garment filling my mouth slut’s work, even if it had been last night.

Mane got in the passenger’s seat and we departed.

My awareness drifted. By this point, I was past having a plan or any hope. I observed my circumstances as from a distance, puzzled, confused, beyond caring. Unlike facing the nursery last night, I felt I had no options, no chance to recover. Hopelessness was liberating; this was no longer—could no longer be my problem. Between that and physical exhaustion, I drifted, a passenger in my own life. I was vaguely curious what Morgan thought he’d accomplish taking me to Brenhaven. Perhaps he thought I would make a valuable hostage in interacting with Oak Leaf.

I noticed that my sense of Passion Mill became more vague. I wondered whether it was distance or detachment on my part. I realized that I was drifting toward sleep. I was amused I’d reached a point where I could sleep with my mouth filled with soiled undergarments and a man holding a gun in his hand next to me, in case I somehow managed to ‘do anything.’

The uneasy rhythm of my consciousness was disrupted. “Pull to the shoulder, Stone. I need to get out and make water,” Morgan said.

“You didn’t make waste at Passion Mill?”

“Lots of coffee. Lady Ashley gave us a long night.”

We were pulling to the side. I began to drift again. Why couldn’t Morgan make water in the van’s toilet? Where was the van’s toilet? I’d expect it to be between us, forward a bit, but there was clearly no fixture there. This van must not be night-rated. That was strange; Oak Leaf didn’t have any day vans any more. Our vehicles featured inner boundary channels and all the necessities to avoid ever stopping at night.

This time, my lassitude was shattered by the loud thwap of a suppressed pistol shot. With horror, I realized that part of Stone’s brain had splattered onto my face. I was going to be sick. I couldn’t be sick with a gag in my mouth; I just couldn’t. I wasn’t going to be able to stop myself though.

Morgan reached over and removed the gag. The smell of burnt powder on his hand was too much; I spattered the meager contents of my stomach down my front and onto the back of the driver’s seat. Of course, given that the left side of Stone’s head was missing, a little vomit was unlikely to be a major consideration for the cleanliness of the van.

I was glad the suppressor on Morgan’s pistol was first-rate; my ears were already starting to recover. What was going on now? Would I survive the next few seconds?

Morgan was talking. “Hands up where I can see them now.” How did he expect me to comply: my hands were still tied.

Mane whimpered. Morgan repeated himself.

“Mane, slowly put your hands up where I can see them now.”

Mane complied.

“Lady Ashley, can you think of any reason why we should not trust Mane?”

“What is your game, Morgan, and why, precisely, would you imagine I might cooperate with you?”

“Ah, yes. Let me take a step back. After I left Mane’s room, Earth took me to listen to Baker’s Finest Pride. Pride told me that your leadership was unacceptable and he was sure that Brenhaven would understand the needs of businesses and the community better.

“By this point they had already ambushed Lord Matthew, giving him a concussion in the process. They were firmly committed. Explaining to them that Brenhaven would never cooperate with such a scheme would have me a target instead of ally.

“I wanted to get you away from that. So, I proposed that Mane could help me take you as a hostage to Brenhaven. There I would mobilize our seat and give Pride any forces he might need to hold strong against any reinforcements from Oak Leaf, or so I said. Pride was agreeable, provided that Stone came along to help. I think Pride wanted to rid himself of Stone as much as have someone he trusted more than Mane keep an eye on me.

“Then we came to secure you. I regret not thinking of a better option nor of signaling that I supported you.”

“Lord Morgan, I would truly love to believe that story. However, I distinctly recall you drawing on me as you stood with Stone and Earth.”

“I hoped you’d think that. You looked ready to try something foolish with Earth and Stone. They may not be trained, but your odds unarmed were dreadful. In actuality, I drew on Stone and Earth in case you were foolish enough to force the issue then and there.”

His story fit all the data I had and explained things better than Brenhaven warring Oak Leaf over Passion Mill. Yes, we have reasons for our security precautions. I doubt Brenhaven is any more above taking advantage of an opportunity than Oak Leaf. Sometimes a significant chunk of our operational budget is spent helping people understand that they would rather be beholden to Oak Leaf than say Rocky Point. We can guess what our associates do with that money. But the point is we never ask—we never know for sure. That veneer of uncertainty matters when you are called to Balance. Besides, why would Brenhaven want to buy into Saltfisher’s Dock in the making even if they did somehow get away with it?

“So, back to my question. Mane says he’s on our side. Have you any reason I might doubt him? He has a lot to gain from someone who might judge him differently than the Lady Third for Oak Leaf.”

I joined Mane deeply enough that our web connection was strong even distant from Passion Mill. “Mane, are you with me?”

“I am, my lady, more than ever. I do not wish to return to a Passion Mill torn by war.” I’m not 100% at detecting lies with a good web connection, but I’m skilled enough. He seemed to believe what he said. Everything I knew of Mane suggested that he would not support a coup.

“You interacted with him after I was captured. Based on everything I’ve seen, I’d say he is ours.”

“Nothing after you were captured would change that. Mane, you can relax. Lady Ashley, I surrender myself to you for your judgment.”

His relief, love and care flooded me. If he played me, his game was deeper than I would survive.

“I believe you, Morgan. Thank you for saving me once again.”

He beamed. “Thank you for your trust, my lady.”

“Morgan, by this point, we’re well past lords and ladies.”

“Yes, my Ashley.” I was unsure we had reached quite that far, but I did not challenge him.

“Can you untie me?” He did.

Morgan dragged Stone’s body to the side of the road and cleared the fragments of glass out of the driver’s window. He tried to wipe away the rest of the gore.

“Have you ever...” I motioned to the body, “before?”

“Slain a kidnapper with no warning? No. I have executed someone: that was a bad business of robbery gone worse.”

I had seen death before, violent death once or twice. Rationally I knew that sooner or later I would sit in judgment in a capital case. Sooner seemed likely. Still, the events of the last hours brought a stark reality to that aspect of noble responsibility.

I stepped over to the body and retrieved my gun. The holster had escaped most of the gore; I was in worse shape. It felt very odd to have a holster against my naked body, but there was no way I would be unarmed. As I checked the gun, I realized that Stone had left a round chambered, but had turned on the safety. What had he been thinking? I wondered if he’d had the safety on while he covered me at Passion Mill.

“My lord,” Mane said, “how will we reach Lucinda?”

“We’ll drive.”

“In that?” Mane was dubious of the idea of getting back into the van.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to walk, and it’s the van we’ve got. I don’t relish it: we’re not going to even do a half-adequate job of cleaning. I’ll drive though; I suspect that will be the worst. We want to drive with the windows down. Fortunately, we’ve already got a start on that.” He pointed at the hole where he had cleared the remaining fragments of glass. His humor fell flat, but I was glad he made the attempt.

“I have a bigger question,” I said. “How do you plan to find Lucinda?”

“One of my spotters saw her this morning. We’ll see if we can go find her.”

“I thought the call was an excuse to get you alone.”

“No, the universe has more of a sense of irony than that. The call was real; Pride just used it as an opportunity.”

“Mane, is this still something you want to do?”

“My lady, more than ever. After this morning, I can think of little more wonderful than spending the rest of my life loved and cherished, helping the community I spent so much of my self out in the process. Death is no longer as frightening as it once was.”

He could speak for himself. I was painfully aware of my own mortality in a way I never had been before.

We sat in the van. I elected to sit behind the passenger’s seat. Morgan drove and Mane sat in front of me.

As Morgan pulled away, I began to shake. Nausea threatened to bring about another round of vomiting. I fought for control, winning this time. What a morning. I began to cry silently.

“My lady,” Mane said, glancing back at me, “would you like me to sit with you?”

I was touched. “I think I’ll be fine or at least better in a bit. It’s been a long day.”

We continued to drive. I had gained enough awareness to track my surroundings. We were somewhere between Passion Mill and Three Rivers Confluence, inland from the Passion off towards Pine Hills.

“Shortly, we should pull to the side and start exploring the woods. She should be somewhere around here,” Morgan said.

“That may be unnecessary. Incoming on your two o’clock, running fast. Any chance that’s her?”

“Running fast, I’ll say my lady,” Mane said. “I think she may match our speed.” we weren’t traveling that quickly, but I certainly had no desire to pace the van.

“I see,” Morgan said. “Yes, Lucinda can run that fast, and color’s right.” Soon he’d confirmed that the demon was approaching us. He pulled to the side, and within a minute, she was at Mane’s window.

“Lord Morgan!” Lucinda said. “What an expected pleasure to run into you again.”