Read Online SummerDanse by Terie Garrison - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Terie Garrison
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the wagon. He dug into one of the crates and pulled out a club, then stepped close to the cage. “Well, good sir, I’m glad you asked.” His voice took on the quality of a circus barker’s. “Come closer, those who dare, and see a sight you’re not likely to see again. This here is Wolf-Girl. Never until three days ago had she seen the sight of a man.” He struck at the bars of the cage with the club. My cue. I played my part, putting my heart and soul into it—a performance that would’ve made Breyard proud.
A few of the braver boys stepped nearer, and I reached out at them, fingers poised to scratch if they came close enough. A few of the women screamed, and one grabbed one of the smaller boys and pulled him back to safety.
Anazian explained to the villagers that he was taking me to the circus, and they nodded in agreement that that was the best thing for a freak like me. He baited me with the club again, and again I responded with a volley of barks, howls, and grunts, straining at my lead until my neck really did hurt.
When the crowd felt they’d been sufficiently entertained to contribute a few copper coins in exchange, Anazian struck the bars one last time, then climbed back into the driver’s seat and clucked the horses into action.
Once we were well clear of the village and the children who’d followed us were left far behind, Anazian stopped the wagon.
“That was well done,” he said as he untied the lead. “You’re going to have a black eye.”
As if I didn’t know. It had swollen shut already and added its pain to everything else. I just wanted to sleep, but that, of course, was denied me as the wagon trundled along.
I lost track of the passing days after that. I did what Anazian told me to do when he told me to do it. I played at being Wolf-Girl. I ate when given food, which was seldom enough. I drank when given water, which was only enough to keep me alive. I answered Anazian silently or aloud as he seemed to wish, and on the occasions he chose to strike me, I reacted with suitable submission.
I began to think my memories of my family and friends, of magic and maejic and red dragons, were all a fevered dream. My only reality became this grey, torturous existence.
One night, Rennirt found me. He had been a lord on Stychs, corrupted by magic power. He stood before me now, dark-skinned and handsome, his green eyes boring into mine. Then the image blurred, and instead of Rennirt, a small man stood before me, a silver blade glittering in his hand as he sliced fine lines into my face. I screamed in agony as blood dripped down. Hadn’t once been enough? Why did I have to relive it again?
I awoke in a panic. My breath came in uneven gasps, and my heart pounded loudly. Something trickled down my neck. Then I remembered that I wasn’t in the black of Rennirt’s underground cell. And the dampness wasn’t blood but only tears.
The next morning dawned bright and clear. By mid-morning, the temperature had soared. I asked Anazian for water, but he didn’t reply. Not knowing whether he’d not heard or was just ignoring me, I didn’t ask again.
All day, I cooked under the hot sun. Sweat poured off my body, and places where skin touched skin began to chafe. My lips cracked and bled, but I couldn’t stop licking them. Mama’s voice no longer whispered to me.
Anazian didn’t make me play Wolf-Girl anymore. I suspect he knew I couldn’t, not even if he beat me. I was vaguely conscious of him getting water down my throat, and I grew curious why he didn’t just let me die, since he seemed so intent upon it. That was in one of the few lucid moments I had in those last days.
Then finally a day came when the mage covered the cage with sheets of cloth. For a short time I came to myself and wondered with bitterness why he’d waited so long to allow me to have shade. But soon it became stifling and hard to breathe. Perhaps the time had come to bury me. That would be good.
My Son~
I have just
A few of the braver boys stepped nearer, and I reached out at them, fingers poised to scratch if they came close enough. A few of the women screamed, and one grabbed one of the smaller boys and pulled him back to safety.
Anazian explained to the villagers that he was taking me to the circus, and they nodded in agreement that that was the best thing for a freak like me. He baited me with the club again, and again I responded with a volley of barks, howls, and grunts, straining at my lead until my neck really did hurt.
When the crowd felt they’d been sufficiently entertained to contribute a few copper coins in exchange, Anazian struck the bars one last time, then climbed back into the driver’s seat and clucked the horses into action.
Once we were well clear of the village and the children who’d followed us were left far behind, Anazian stopped the wagon.
“That was well done,” he said as he untied the lead. “You’re going to have a black eye.”
As if I didn’t know. It had swollen shut already and added its pain to everything else. I just wanted to sleep, but that, of course, was denied me as the wagon trundled along.
I lost track of the passing days after that. I did what Anazian told me to do when he told me to do it. I played at being Wolf-Girl. I ate when given food, which was seldom enough. I drank when given water, which was only enough to keep me alive. I answered Anazian silently or aloud as he seemed to wish, and on the occasions he chose to strike me, I reacted with suitable submission.
I began to think my memories of my family and friends, of magic and maejic and red dragons, were all a fevered dream. My only reality became this grey, torturous existence.
One night, Rennirt found me. He had been a lord on Stychs, corrupted by magic power. He stood before me now, dark-skinned and handsome, his green eyes boring into mine. Then the image blurred, and instead of Rennirt, a small man stood before me, a silver blade glittering in his hand as he sliced fine lines into my face. I screamed in agony as blood dripped down. Hadn’t once been enough? Why did I have to relive it again?
I awoke in a panic. My breath came in uneven gasps, and my heart pounded loudly. Something trickled down my neck. Then I remembered that I wasn’t in the black of Rennirt’s underground cell. And the dampness wasn’t blood but only tears.
The next morning dawned bright and clear. By mid-morning, the temperature had soared. I asked Anazian for water, but he didn’t reply. Not knowing whether he’d not heard or was just ignoring me, I didn’t ask again.
All day, I cooked under the hot sun. Sweat poured off my body, and places where skin touched skin began to chafe. My lips cracked and bled, but I couldn’t stop licking them. Mama’s voice no longer whispered to me.
Anazian didn’t make me play Wolf-Girl anymore. I suspect he knew I couldn’t, not even if he beat me. I was vaguely conscious of him getting water down my throat, and I grew curious why he didn’t just let me die, since he seemed so intent upon it. That was in one of the few lucid moments I had in those last days.
Then finally a day came when the mage covered the cage with sheets of cloth. For a short time I came to myself and wondered with bitterness why he’d waited so long to allow me to have shade. But soon it became stifling and hard to breathe. Perhaps the time had come to bury me. That would be good.
My Son~
I have just
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