She kept her gaze on the ground from then on, as the night’s shadows grew thicker all around them.
After an hour that seemed like a week to Selena’s weakened body, they came upon a camp in the woods. She felt another shroud of despair fall over her. Dozens of campfires kept the darkness at bay and she could see men—perhaps one hundred and fifty or so—milling about. Most were pirates but enough wore the Bazira red and black for her to feel defeat was a certainty rather than a possibility. Tents were erected between the trees, some large, some no more than lean-tos. Jude marched the prisoners into the thick of the camp, to the largest tent. Men watched them pass; their eyes glinted in the firelight as did the curved blades at their waists. Selena shivered.
“Here,” Jude said, and the three were forced to the ground around a fire that was fueled by broken branches and smaller kindling from the forest around them. The leaves smelled pungent as they burned but the smell of rabbits, roasting on two spits, overpowered all. A tall tree marked the edge of the clearing on one side, the tent on the other. Two large men in black—both meaty and thick—rose from turning the rabbits on spits when they saw Jude, and gave her brief bows of deference.
“My lady,” said one. “The Shadow face Heard you and granted you much success,” said one, his eyes raking over Selena. The other cut meat off the rabbits—a meal likely intended for themselves—and gave them to her on a tin plate.
“News from the temple?” Jude asked, biting into the juicy flesh. Selena’s empty stomach clenched at the sight.
“None, lady.” The Bazira wore a trim beard that was too thin for his wide face. “Reverent Bacchus waits for you patiently.”
Jude took a long pull from her water skin. “Reverent Bacchus has no patience,” she said. “He gave me a week to retrieve the Aluren bitch and I did it in four days.” Her imperious gaze swept over Sebastian and Accora. “And I bring him our wayward assassin and our insubordinate Reverent, as well.”
“He will reward you well,” said the other man. Tall and pale, the bulk of strong muscles strained under his black overtunic.
“He’ll let me live.” Jude finished her meal and tossed the plate to the ground. “The Aluren’s friends might follow. From Isle Saliz. Send word to the outposts; the northwest post first. If there is so much as a shadow on any horizon, I want to know of it.” She stretched like a cat and yawned. “I’m weary. I believe I shall retire.”
The pale man nodded. “And them? Food or drink?”
“No,” Jude said. “Better to keep them weak until Reverent Bacchus determines how to make use of them.” She knelt between Accora and Sebastian. “We have a long walk tomorrow. Best if you get some rest.” She pivoted to Selena. “Unfortunately, the trek will be harder on you, sweeting, as I doubt very much Menak and Devon, here, will allow you much sleep.”
Fear clenched an icy fist around Selena and shook her hard. The two men’s faces alit in surprised pleasure at Jude’s words.
“What? No. Why?” Sebastian’s face had drained of color and he struggled to sound challenging. “Doesn’t Bacchus want her whole? Is he afraid to face her when she’s strong and…and…”
Jude caressed his cheek. “Aren’t you a sweet one? So considerate.” Her caress turned into a slap. “And so much weaker than High Vicar Zolin ever imagined. Bacchus will remind you that you cannot alter your true nature; changing it from day to day as if it were a costume. Your heart-wrenching performance as the concerned lover is embarrassing, Sebastian, to all that you truly are. As for her,” she nodded at Selena, “Bacchus only wants her alive. He cares not how used she is when she falls at his feet.”
Selena tried to swallow the jagged lump of dread that rose in her throat but she was too parched. And weak. I’m too weak to fight. She struggled at the ropes on her wrist. Accora had loosened them but only enough so that she could feel her hands again. She could not break free. She watched, blood thundering in her ears, as Jude rose to her feet to depart.
“A good night to you, men,” she told her Bazira. “Heed my words well: she must live or Bacchus will flay the flesh off your bones and feed it to his pet merkind. And then he will make you suffer.”
“Yes, lady,” the bearded man said behind an eager grin.
Jude turned to go and then stopped. “Oh, but I would request that you take your pleasure here.” Her smile was like Svoz’s before a kill. “Sebastian wants to watch.”
“No,” Sebastian breathed. “No, no, no…”
Selena’s heart raced in her chest until she nearly dizzy, as Jude retreated to her tent and the two men turned to her. She scrambled backward, kicking at the ground with her heels, but the pale man hauled her to her feet and slammed her against the tree at the edge of the clearing. Dull pain thrummed in her head but was distant and small compared to the fear that stormed over her as the man pressed his body against hers.
Behind them, Sebastian screamed. “No! Leave her alone! Leave her alone, you shit-eating sons of bastards! Do something, witch, godsdamn you! Help her! Help her!”
Selena heard the agony in his voice; it seeped through the cracks of her terror that intensified as the first man began unbuckling the belt at her waist. She fought at the loose ropes around her wrists and the gag in her mouth, but she was pressed hard against the tree and could hardly move.
Accora…her hands are free. She looked to the old woman who was staring at her intently as if to say, Wait.
Gods, how long? was Selena’s mute reply.
The Bazira lowered Selena’s gag. “Give us a kiss, love?”
Selena bared her teeth. “I give nothing.”
“Fool, Menak!” spat the bearded one behind him. “She’ll speak her magic.”
Menak scoffed without taking his eyes off Selena. “You’re the fool, Devon. She needs her hands for magic, don’t you, sweeting?” His smile morphed into a menacing visage. “But bite at me and I won’t be so gentle.”
He pressed his mouth to hers, worming his tongue past her teeth. Selena tried to turn her head but he held by the jaw until she thought the bones would snap. His mouth tasted of sour rum and old tobacco, and her stomach twisted with revulsion.
Ilior, where are you?
Ilior was not by her side. There was only a Bazira witch and Sebastian now—a notorious murderer—and Sebastian had gone mad.
“Don’t touch her!” He screamed and writhed and kicked and struggled against the ropes as if possessed by a maniacal force. “Don’t you fucking touch her!”
Menak paid him no mind, but ended his assault on Selena’s mouth in his own time. “Ah, delicious. It’s true, Devon. Aluren wenches are so very sweet.”
Selena spat his sour saliva back at him. “Only a coward takes what isn’t given,” she said, her voice tremulous. “Give me my sword and I’ll show you how sweet I can be.”