Chapter 2

For the rest of her life, Alice would remember the night she spent in Horace's cell. For the first time in her life, Alice had reached the point that she was ready to give up the struggle for survival, to bring about her own death before whatever awaited her could. For hours Alice tossed and turned on the stone cell floor, wracked by a conflicting storm of emotions. I am no longer a virgin she thought, a fact which she still had a hard time accepting. For most of her life, Alice had known the path she would inevitably take: marry a man of good standing, and have his children. Being a good wife and mother is the epitome of womanhood, or at least that was what the women of the city had told her. They had also informed her that a crucial requirement of a good wife is that she come to her husband as a virgin on their wedding night. This last point they told her repeatedly, admonishing her to not let her passions bring her to ruin. Despite their warnings, it seemed to Alice that she had fallen as far into ruin as was possible, and her hopes of escaping a horrible future quickly dwindled. Yet even then, at her most vulnerable moment, Alice was not defeated. Amidst the tides of her grief and despair, Alice withdrew into herself, exploring memories of happier times. She especially thought of her mother, who had always believed in her and encouraged her. This memory of sweet Sophia acted as a benevolent entity that loaned her its support, urging her to go onward, to overcome. Vivid green sparks twinkled in her mind, warming her whole body, and Alice was finally able to drift into sleep.

In her dream, she is sitting underneath the apple tree, the same spot she used to occupy while she watched her mother tend the garden. Though Alice often dreamed of this tree and her mother, she immediately realized that this dream was different, possibly something dangerous. "This place is very powerful, for you at least."

Alice was unable to discern the origin of the voice, but for some reason that did not concern her. "Yes, I suppose it is. I have a lot of good memories of this place. Will you tell me who you are?" she asked, though she doubted that the voice meant her any harm.

"I will not tell you my name, for in truth I have none. I am only here to do my duty, and facilitate your destiny. To that end, you have a choice, a choice about the apple, and how much you are willing sacrifice to get it." Alice was bewildered, for this voice knew of a moment that had belonged to her and Sophie alone, a moment that she privately treasured. Alice slowly arose and turned to examine the apple tree. Just as she had done all those years ago, Alice gingerly began to climb the tree, moving much more quickly than she had as a child. Again, she reached out to grab an apple, gained her prize, and fell.

This time, the fall did not end at the ground. For what seemed a long while, Alice fell through nothingness and was not scared. She had a sense that every second brought her closer to some new exciting world, where she would be allowed to thrive. Just as this sensation reached its peak it suddenly vanished, replaced by a green glow that carried her back down into sleep.

At what seemed to Alice to be the crack of dawn, Horace the Huntsman arrived at her cell to collect her. Even though she was sleep deprived and only partially alert to her surroundings, Alice observed several surprising changes in her captor. Instead of his usual brown hunter's garb, Horace had donned an ornate black silk tunic, and deep red trousers. His normally wild mane of hair had been strictly pulled into a ponytail, and by the sparkle of his boots she could tell that he had recently polished them. With these refinements in place, Alice would have taken him at first glance to be an adventurous young nobleman, or perhaps an arrogant merchant prince, absolutely secure in his ability to control almost any situation. Though he no longer looked like a blood thirsty savage, Alice did not delude herself that he was in anyway safe. It was in his eyes, the fact that he would gladly slit her throat if meant that he would profit somehow. It puzzled Alice that she could recognize this ruthlessness in Horace and yet still be attracted to him, that she could have enjoyed those things he did to her. With determined mental struggle, Alice was able to put those thoughts out of her mind, to prevent them from addling her. Horace tossed a small satchel onto the floor and said, in a gruff fashion "Put these on. We leave in 5 minutes. Hurry up." He undid her restraints and exited the cell, not bothering to close the door. Upon opening the satchel Alice discovered the white cotton dress that she had been wearing at the time of her abduction. There was no sign of the underwear she had been wearing, but she had no time to dwell on that, as she rushed out the door after Horace. Alice's cell was in the basement of Horace's rather extravagant country home, and by the time Alice made it out onto the front drive Horace stood waiting in the front of an elegant carriage that was hitched to a mean looking stallion. Alice settled into the front alongside Horace, and they were off.

For the first few hours of their journey, Horace and Alice said little to each other, content just to watch the countryside amble by as they rode. Finally, Alice could not restrain herself anymore, and asked Horace the question that had been burning in her mind. "So, who hired you to abduct me anyway?" Surprised, Horace looked at the girl askance, and tried to decide how much to tell her.

"In general, my policy is never to reveal information about my clients, which is something that's served me well over the years. Or at least, I never reveal information to those who have nothing to offer in return." Alice quickly realized what she would have to do in order to get any answers, and she was entirely displeased by the idea. Moving her small pale hand from her lap to his, Alice began to idly massage the region. His erection grew rapidly, so Alice undid the fastenings of his trousers and allowed his cock to greet the cool midmorning air. Alice wrapped her hand around his shaft and began to stroke, while simultaneously leaning in and taking the tip into her mouth, swirling it around eagerly. The girl's mouth was so tight and willing that it was only a few short minutes before Horace reached out and held the girl's head in place while he shot his load straight into her throat. For a moment, Alice was sure that the sheer volume of his seed would choke her, but she was able to swallow most of it, with only some of it streaming down her cheeks and onto her dress. Satisfied with her offering, Horace decided to let the girl know. "I was hired by the widow of an old associate of mine, Eleanor of Digsby." Alice gave a gasp horrific recognition. "She is a cruel old bird, quite revolting to my mind, but she wields quite a lot of power in Zemsk, so I don't dare reject her business."

"That conniving old hag!" exclaimed Alice. This news disturbed her on more than one level. She was worried about her father, who was now alone in the clutches of a woman who had already proven herself capable of murder. Agonizing as it was, Alice reluctantly realized that there was nothing she could do at this point for her father, and there was nothing to be gained by obsessing over the matter. Alice resolutely turned her mind to worrying about yet another dire issue: that of her immediate future. "Who exactly is my 'buyer'?" she inquired, adopting the most sugar coated tone she could manage.

"Now that I really can't tell you," was Horace's reply, "because I really don't know much about him myself. I heard through the grapevine that certain interests were looking to acquire a young female, preferably a beautiful one, but no one could say why. No name either, or at least not a real one. This man is known to answer to as many as half a dozen alias', depending on where the asking is being done. Nobody who has actually met with the fellow seems very willing to talk about him, and it's pretty clear that he's a force to be reckoned with, at least in certain circles."