Twenty-Two

Legolas stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the "child" standing before him. His heart pounded in his chest, making his shoulder ache fiercely. What had happened? Why was she here now? Where was Caeri?

Rani lifted teary blue eyes to his and held the knife out to him.

"Please, Legolas, you have to save Caeri. She went to find food and water, but the men found her and took her! And she's hurt!" Tears slipped down Rani's cheeks, but it was the use of his name that caught his attention. He had never told her who he was.

Extending a hand for his knife, Legolas continued to hold her in his gaze. "How do you know who I am? How did you get this?" he asked, his voice cold. He was tired of games.

Trembling, Rani backed away from him. Wide-eyed, she responded, "I-I…I just know! I… Caeri dropped the knife and the men left it. I was hiding near where she fell! Please! You must hurry!"

He stared at her a moment longer, knowing he could not take the time to push for the answers he desired now. He had to go after Caeri.

"Where?"

She pointed. "They took her from the creek, and were headed back to their camp. She was not awake. She was bleeding…"

Without another word, Legolas set off through the woods at a run, back towards the camp they had fled. He dreaded what he would find if he did not arrive in time.

If only she had not left the tree…

But he understood why she had, and would have done the same if their roles were reversed. What were the odds the men would have tracked them through the darkness?

The warmth in his shoulder answered that for him. He had left a blood trail. And he had been too worn down by lack of sleep and the song of the sea to even consider it.

Reckless. A novice mistake!

He pushed himself faster, the rest having done much to build up his strength. He had to get there in time. Caeri was no longer a stranger needing his help, not just one of his people needing protection.

She was a friend. And he would not allow her to endure any more from those filthy men and their perverse thoughts.

Men or no, he would do whatever was necessary to get her away from them once and for all.

— o —

It had been several hours since Sirk and Nirk had gone into the woods to track the elves.

In that time, Prem had dug a hole deep enough for them to bury Torel. Brigus had lugged the body over and dumped it into the dark earth. But he hadn't know what to say. Didn't people say something memorable at funerals?

Prem had spoken instead. "I'm sorry, Torel. Sorry this happened. Sorry I didn't convince you to say home. You didn't deserve this."

No, Torel hadn't deserved any of this. And Brigus knew who was to blame. He had thought about it with every shovel full of dirt he and Prem took turns tossing on Torel's grave.

Dawn came and went, and he was getting impatient. Shouldn't the twins be back by now with the elves? If one of them was injured, they shouldn't have gotten very far.

Brigus paced in the clearing, until he finally heard the sound of someone approaching through the trees. His hand went to his knife, but he lowered it when Sirk and Nirk appeared.

Finally!

And Nirk carried a burden over one shoulder. Brigus smirked as he recognized the feminine form of the elf woman.

But where was Lass? If they had killed the elf, Brigus would be angry.

Nirk reached one of their bedrolls near the campfire, which had died down once the sun had risen. He dumped his burden upon it, and Brigus could see that she was injured. Blood covered her face from what looked like a broken nose.

"I told you not to touch her!" he growled, stomping over to the men.

Nirk glared back at him. "She fights like a harpy! Had a knife! Had to so something to get her back here."

Sirk snorted. "He didn't hit her, if that's what you're thinking, Brigus. We just tried to disarm her. Didn't come out of that unhurt ourselves, if you haven't noticed."

Brigus looked and sure enough, both men bore marks upon their arms and faces. It looked as if the woman had scratched and bit them. Nirk had a bandage on one arm. Blood seeped through it.

"Got the knife away from her," Nirk said, "but not before she cut me with it. Then she fought tooth and nail as we tried to tie her up. She slipped away and would have run off if I hadn't tackled her. She hit her face on the ground. She hasn't stirred since."

"Hmph." Brigus wasn't happy that his prize was damaged but if that was what it took to get her here, then so be it. "What about the other one?"

Sirk shrugged. "Couldn't find him. We lost the blood trail a little before dawn. Had about given up, when we found a stream. And what do you know but the woman was there!"

"But not Lass," Nirk added. "And she wouldn't tell us anything about him."

"Maybe he died from Jasper's attack?" Sirk suggested. He looked over at the older man, who lounged against their packs.

Jasper opened one eye and shook his head. "Not bad enough to kill him," he said. "Just enough to slow him down a bit. If she was at the stream, he wasn't too far away."

That angered Brigus. "You should have looked for him!"

"Oh, give it a rest, Brigus," Jasper rasped. "You got the girl. Take your anger out on her. 'Sides, Lass is sure to come back after her, and when he does, he'll be weak and easy to take out."

"No," came a soft protest.

Brigus looked down at Caeri. She had roused and stared up at them with wide eyes. Her face was swollen and the skin around her eyes was darkening.

"Oh, he's gonna die, woman. That is a given. After he killed my brother in cold blood, he is going to die. But first he's going to watch us have some fun with you."

She cringed back from him, even as confusion clouded her expression. She glanced at Jasper, shaking her head.

"Haven't enough people been hurt, Brigus?" Prem stepped forward, glancing at the woman.

"Don't do it, boy," Jasper told him. "Don't even try to stop us, or you'll find yourself in the ground with Torel."

Something about the way Jasper said that bothered Brigus, but he focused on Prem. "Sit down, Prem. If you know what's good for you, sit down and shut up."

— o —

Lancaeriel would have cursed herself, were she not in so much pain.

Why had she left the tree? Why had she taken it upon herself to find food and water?

Oh, it had seemed a good idea at the time, and even safe for the most part. She had not left sight of the tree in which Lass rested until she heard the water. Then like a fool, she had taken off through the woods to find it.

But she had little more than found it and satisfied her thirst when the men had surprised her. She had fought as well as she was able. Her back still hurt terribly and she could not bend or twist well. The two of them had managed to disarm her, but not without her inflicting damage.

She glanced at Nirk's arm. She was proud of that injury, as well as the scratches and bite marks marring his and Sirk's arms and faces. Anthir had taught her to use whatever weapons were at her disposal and she had only had her teeth and fingernails, so she had used them.

And she had almost escaped! But one of the men had tackled her to the ground. His weight had hit on the deep bruises on her back and she had collapsed in agony. Then pain had exploded in her head as her face slammed into the ground and all had gone black.

Now here she was, back where she had started. Only this time, Lass was not here to save her.

Her head ached. She could not take a breath through her nose, which she was certain was quite broken, but had to breathe through her mouth. Her face was swollen and sore. And her back continued to throb with every move, every breath.

Brigus strode over to her and looked down at her with speculation. It was as if he were trying to decide whether to violate her now or wait for Lass to show up.

Lancaeriel was not certain Lass would have even stirred yet from the tree in which he slept. It was not that long after dawn and he had been injured and exhausted.

The man turned to the wood, his brow furrowed.

"Aw, come off it, Brigus. She's awake. Get it over with. I want her."

Lancaeriel quailed and the older man laughed at her terror.

Then her deepest fears became reality as Brigus' hand began to unfasten his belt, even as he walked towards her. "Well, it's about time you paid your dues. And after this," he gestured towards the mound of bare earth. "I'm gonna take my time…and then the others will get their turn."

Lancaeriel tugged at the ropes binding her, but there was no give in them. There would be no escaping this. The humiliation, or the pain, or the death such a forced union would bestow upon her. Her kind could not endure rape. It was a violation of the very soul, an injury to the spirit.

"Brigus?" Prem's voice spoke out again. "Torel wouldn't have wanted this! He would never have wanted to see you do this thing! It is wrong! Please? I'm sorry about Torel, but…"

Prem's voice was cut off by a furious roar as Brigus spun around.

"You're sorry? It wasn't your brother that was cut down in cold blood!" Brigus' face turned red in his fury. "I don't care what you think, Prem. Take a turn with her or not, but the rest of us are gonna have our fun! And so help me if you interrupt again, I'll let Jasper muffle you."

Then the big man was next to her, kneeling beside her and reaching for her clothes. Lancaeriel could not breathe. This could not be happening. She wiggled back and tried to fight but with her hands bound she could do little…and then he shoved her to her back and pain exploded from her hip.

Tears seeped from her beneath her lashes when the fingers of one hand sank into her hair, his stinking breath heated her face, and his other hand moved to the ties of her tunic.

That was when it seemed a tornado whirled into the camp.

Her eyes snapped open as Brigus released her and surged to his feet in surprise.

Lancaeriel glimpsed a blur of green and gold, and realized the men were suddenly fighting furiously.

Lass had come for her.

To Be Continued…

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