LINKS - Chapter 22 - Debris 


In the vast expanse between New Burleigh and Red Rock city, night was a time of silence and stillness. Animals crept through the scrub, darting from shadow to shadow, while insects chirped their songs into the darkness. The heat of the day faded away, sending most scurrying to their nests and hiding places.

Down in one of the low valleys, the silence was shattered for a moment by a loud screech. An Azure Windlaw, a small dragon like creature, swooped down from sky and pounced upon a rat as it tried to dart across the gap cut by a set of railway tracks. In an instant the rat’s cries were silenced as the predator dug its claws and large beak into its prey.

So engrossed was the Windlaw in its meal, it didn’t notice the ground beginning to shake, nor the clattering rumble that was approaching. Then, like bolt of lightning, a bright beam of light sliced through the darkness as a train burst out of the dark, rounding one of the valley’s corners. The Windlaw shrieked, taking to the sky, its meal forgotten as the titanic metal beast continued the plunge through the desert night.

At the rear of the train, the slave carriage rattled and and rolled back and forth. Little thought had been given to the comfort of its occupants, and so every bump and jutter was keenly felt.

Azee’s hands shook a little as she reached out to take the tin of water being offered to her by a porter. He was human, an older gentleman with a kindly smile on his face, though of course Azee knew well not to trust any sort of surface kindness. But it had been hours since she’d last been given any water, and her mouth felt as if it were full of sawdust and cotton. 

The moment she had the tin in her hands, Azee gulped it down as quickly as she could. She almost purred at the blissful feeling of the cool water going down her throat. The memory of the stifling heat of the afternoon still made her skin tingle, but least the night air was mercifully cool.

“There you go,” the man said, smiling as Azee drank. “Good girl.” He reached out a hand and patted Azee on the head, scratching her gently between the ears. Normally such a gesture would have embarrassed Azee, even made her indignant, but she was far too thirsty to care.

As she finished her drink, Azee raised her eyes and looked at the man. “May I please have some more,” she asked, bracing herself for a barrage of unkind words.

“Course you can.” The porter took the tin and refilled it from a bucket at his feet. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Azee said quietly.

“Poor devils, musta been hot in here.” the porter mused, glancing around as Azee drank.

He wasn’t wrong. In the heat from the midday sun, the already stuffy confines of the carriage had turned into an oven.

“You could open the doors, that’d get a breeze going,” grumbled the large male sitting across the row from Azee. 

“Probably would at that, but I’m afraid I ain’t got that kinda clout.” The porter shrug. “Sorry laddy.”

Finishing the water, Azee handed the cup back. “Thank you.”

The man nodded and smiled, before making his way down the center row, passing out water to the other slaves. 

With her thirst at least partially satisfied, Azee shuffled back towards the wall, curling up into a ball as much as she was able. 

Azee had never felt comfortable amongst other slaves. Back at the ranch many of them had been jealous of her relationship with Luke, thinking of her as some sort of traitor. More than once, Chara had stood between her and another slave, one eager to take out their anger or frustration on Azee. Even putting aside the ones that tried to hurt her, Azee had often felt the others glaring at her whenever her back was turned.

She pulled her legs up closer to her body. ‘It’s not like I could tell him no… He was the master’s son, I couldn’t just refuse. What would have been done to me, or to Chara?’

She’d been friends with Luke for as long as she could remember, since the days Chara carried her on her back. He would often take her out of the fields after his lessons were finished and they would go swimming, fishing, or exploring.

 As the years had gone by, Azee had found it harder and harder to connect with her own people. She still had friends, like Keeli and Fray, and she still did what she could to try and convince Luke to improve the lives of the other slaves. But despite all that, more and more she felt like a stranger among her own kind. Even Sinda, as kind as he had been, had seemed almost a little envious of the life Azee had lived. She had certainly had an easier time of it than he had had…

‘Would I even want it to change?’

The traitorous thought made Azee’s breath catch in her chest. It was as if all the voices of all the slaves that had ever shot her a dirty look, or berated her for being the master’s ‘pet’, rang in her ears.

‘You chose luxury over your own kind. You weren’t forced, you liked it, you liked his attention, you liked not having to work in the hot sun. Every time you saw him coming towards the field, your tail would start to wag.’

“Shut up!” Azee snarled aloud, slapping the sides of her head and pulling at her ears. “That’s not true, that’s not true!”

“Hey runt, you crazy or what?” Asked the male on the other side of the carriage, glancing at Azee.

“Sorry…” Azee shrank back against the wall.

As the male settled back into his own sitting position, Azee reached up and gently touched the purple length of fabric she still wore around her neck.

‘What if Luke is right… what if I am… taking what I have for granted, what if I am acting spoiled.’

The fur on her back bristled as she gritted her teeth at the thought. 

‘No! That’s not true!’

A loud ‘clank’ rang out through the carriage as the door at the front end was unlocked and slid open. A trio of humans, two men and one woman, stepped into the carriage. Azee’s breath caught in her throat as she noted the red armbands around the human’s upper arms. Each armband bore the Insignia of the Order of the Crimson Gift, the division of the Lord’s Holy Order that dealt with the breeding, welfare, and culling of slaves.

The porter looked up from his task and then bowed as the agents stepped into the carriage.

“Good evening my lady, gentlemen.”

“Higgins,” the woman at the front of the trio nodded. “Everything alright?”

“Aye ma’am, well behaved lot this time.”

“We’ll see about that.” She gestured over her shoulder to her two compatriots. “Right, let’s see what they have for us.”

“Lord’s teeth it stinks in here!” complained one of the agents, a tall, gaunt man with a leatherbound book in his hands. “Why do we always get stuck with this shit work.”

“Cause you can’t keep your damned mouth shut, that’s why.” the second male agent grumbled, holding his nose.

“Let’s just get this done.” The female agent commanded. “Two more cars after this one. The faster we’re done ‘ere, the sooner we can get a bite to eat.”

The two men nodded and began making their way down the car. As they passed the various slaves, they bent down to examine the tags wrapped around their collars, checking for Order insignia. Two of the agents called out details, while the final one made notes in his book.

“Number two one nine eight nine. Male… Lutrine type… age nineteen… damage to right eye… This one is debris.”

“Got a good one here. Number seventeen seventeen four. Female, feline type, age twenty three, minimal damage,” the woman called out. The feline let out a low growl, which was swiftly followed by the loud snap of a leather strap and yowl of pain. “Shut up you damned cat.”

Azee shrank back against the wall as the Order agents drew closer and closer.

“Ten four three ten. Lapine, male… This one is no good, mark him as debris.”

“Gotta a good one ‘ere. Three one six twenty eight. Canine, female, good strong limbs, good candidate for alpha.”

“Lord help us this one is missing an arm! Is this really the best they could find?”

“Just mark it as debris and move on.”

Azee shivered as one of the agents reached her spot. 

“Chin up,” the woman ordered. Before Azee had a chance to raise her chin, the agent stepped forwards and grabbed hold of her collar. Azee gasped in surprise as she was dragged forward, nearly off her feet. With only detached interest, the Agent took hold of the small silver tag.

“Red Rock to New Burleigh…slave transfer from Windhill to Johnsburg. Ain’t one of ours.” 

Letting go of the tag, the Agent roughly grabbed hold of Azee’s muzzle, examining her. It took every ounce of self control Azee had to not bite the woman’s hand.

“Lucky you, you’d have been debris for sure, scrawny little thing like you.” She used her thumb to push up Azee’s lip and reveal her canines. “Good teeth though.”

“Leave her be,” the second agent commanded, finishing his examination of the male sitting across from Azee. “Got enough to do without wasting time.”

“Yeah, let’s hurry this along. I hate being round these bloody animals.”

Releasing her grip on Azee’s muzzle, the agent got back to her feet and moved on.

Before Azee could catch her breath, she heard a voice crying out from behind her.

“No! Please! I can fight! I’m not debris! Please, I can fight!”

Azee turned to see a lapine youth a few spots behind her frantically pleading with the order agent with the book. The lapine had a splint tied around one of his ankles. 

“I can fight, please! I’m not debris! It’s just a sprain, it’ll heal!”

The desperation in the man’s voice made Azee’s skin crawl. She’d heard fear before, the pleas of slaves as they awaited some form of punishment or another. The lapines cries were something else, a deep, desperate terror that filled Azee with dread.

The agent seemed utterly unperturbed by the man’s desperate pleas, marking notes in his book. “No luck kid. We don’t need alphas that can’t fight.”

“I just need a few days and it’ll heal! I’m begging you, please!” The lapine lunged forward and grabbed the agent’s leg. “I’m not debris, please!”

“Oi, get off!” The Agent barked, pulling his leg free of the lapine’s grasp. Before the lapine could grab him again, the agent lashed out, driving the heel of his boot between the man’s eyes. 

The lapine youth cried out in agony and fell onto his back. Frantically he clambered back to his feet before the Order agent could move on. 

“No!”

With all of his strength, the lapine lunged at the agent, the force of his desperate charge tearing the mounting ring from the wall with a splintering crack. 

“Don’t!” Azee cried out before she was able to stop herself.

The agent holding the book was surprised, and took a step backwards, before the lapine slammed into him. The book spiralled out of his hand and tumbled to the floor, as did the agent a moment later..

With a shouted curse, the female agent surged forward to aid her comrade. She drew a weapon hanging from her belt, a long metal rod with a glowing rune at one end and a thick leather strap on the other. 

Before the lapine could react or defend himself, the female agent drove the end of the rod tipped with the rune into his stomach. A bright light, followed by a loud ‘snap’ rang out and the lapine fell heavily to the floor, sobbing in agony as his limbs twitched.

Azee flinched, her breath catching in her chest. She recognized the weapons the Order Agents were using. Officially they were called ‘penitent staves’ but the overseers nicknamed them ‘tickle sticks’. Though she was fortunate enough to have never felt the touch of one of them herself, Azee had seen what the rods did to their victims, leaving them in agony for hours. Even after the initial pain had faded, the staves would leave behind ugly, weeping burns upon their victims’ skin. Luke had banned them from the Ranch the day he took charge, much to Comb’s chagrin.  

“Tennet, you alright?” the female agent demanded, shocking the lapine again and eliciting a fresh round of cries. The smell of burnt fur and flesh filled the air as thin tendrils of smoke rose from the lapines body.

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine.” the man replied as he brushed off his pants, his nose wrinkling at the various bits of filth that now stained his clothes. “Stupid thing just startled me is all.” The agent swore as he bent down and picked up his book. “Dammit all… it’s bloody filthy now!” 

Still twitching violently, the lapine reached out towards the agent as he tried to brush the filth off the crumpled pages. “I’m… not… please…”

Tennet drew his own stave and drove the rune tipped end into the lapine’s back, eliciting a new, even louder, shriek of pain.

Flipping the rod around in his hand, the agent began striking the lapine with the long, leather strap. The slave carriage was quickly filled with the sounds of miserable whimpering and crying, mixed in with the cruel crack of the leather against flesh.

Only a few metres away, across from Azee, the yelling and screaming had awoken a babe, curled up in his mother’s arms. Confused and alarmed by the frightening noises and sounds of pain, the child began to wail, despite the desperate attempts by his mother to quiet him.

Tennet delivered one last vicious strike on the broken and bleeding lapine, before turning to the mother and her crying child.

“Hey! Shut that thing up!”

“Hey, Tennet, calm down,” the female agent said, reaching out a hand. “Take a moment before-”

“Shut up Giselle!” Tennet knocked the female agent’s arm away and stalked forward. “I’ve had it with these bloody animals!”

The terrified mother curled up to protect her child as Tennet drew up in front of her.

“I said, Shut! It! Up!”

“I’m sorry sir, I’m trying sir.” The woman whimpered, frantically trying to calm the frightened child.

“Tennet, leave them alone.” The female agent snapped.

“You gonna report me?” Tennet rounded on his colleague. “No? Then piss off!”

Turning back to the terrified pelts in front of him, Tennet slapped his rod against his palm. “I’ll give you both something to cry about.” 

Just before Tennet could strike the woman and her child, Azee clambered to her feet. “Stop it!”

Aside from the infant’s cries, an awful silence fell over the carriage. Azee’s mouth immediately went dry, her heart thundering in her chest, as the agent slowly turned towards her. 



***



“Another sir?”

“Hmmm?”

“Another whiskey, sir?”

Luke looked up, meeting the eyes of the canine server who was peering down at him. Luke sat at a small table near the back of the dining car, as far away from anyone else as he could get.

“We have other beverages sir, if you prefer, including a rather excellent variety of ales from-.”

“No, whiskey will be fine,” Luke interrupted, raising a hand. “I’ll have a double, Portmans ten twenty four, neat.”

“Yes, of course sir.” The server turned to leave, before looking back at Luke. “Sir,  I don’t mean to disturb you further but…”

“What is it?”

The canine’s gaze darted to the table, where Luke’s gun sat next to his hand.

“Well sir… weapons are of course permitted, but the establishment would ask that they remain holstered at all times.”

“Establishment?” Luke glanced around at the bar carriage. “Did you seriously just refer to this as an ‘establishment’.”

Slightly taken aback, the Canine raised his eyebrows a little. “Again sir, I don’t mean to intrude. But… the bartender did ask me to tell you to holster your weapon.”

With a low grumble Luke reached down to his belt, unclipped the holster and placed it onto the table.

“There-” Luke shoved his gun into the holster, “-done. Satisfied?”

The canine shifted from foot to foot for a moment, clearly hesitant to push the matter further.

Deciding it wasn’t worth the potential headache, the canine bowed his head. “Yes sir, thank you sir.”

As the server padded off, Luke leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. The bar car was a relic of a bygone era, a replica of the best high class taphouses the capital city had to offer some fifty years ago. Elegant lines of gold stretched across the vibrant green marble ceiling, like the ribs of some vast beast. Fans, carved from imported mahogany and coated in gold leaf, adorned the walls and were inlaid in the white tiled floor. Golden pots, sculpted into the shapes of holy warriors, were filled with once colourful faux plants of silk and bamboo, now faded and slightly tattered by time. All in all, what would once have been one of the most sought out bars in all of Halcyon was now a faded relic, not fit for the lowest of today’s nobility.

Turning back to his table, Luke picked up his nearly empty glass. The amber liquid swirled around the bottom of the elegantly curved crystal, distorting his reflection.

No matter how much he tried to relax, Luke felt a squeezing sensation in his chest. In the back of his mind smouldered an urge to throw something, anything, across the room. He needed to do something, yet nothing held the slightest appeal. Even the alcohol wasn’t helping.

‘I wish Azee was here’

The thought made his chest tighten further.

“What in damnation are you?” Luke asked his own reflection. “I’m talking to you, Luke Windhill, just what are you? Some lovesick child, or a Windhill?”

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “You knew what she was, didn’t you? You know what they are like, how they act. She saw a handsome pelt and she took him to bed, it’s what they do. And what do you do, mope around, drink, and let the…. bloody witch get under your skin.”

His undulating reflection offered no reply.

“Did you think that if you dressed her up, taught her to read, treated her well, someday she’d just… wake up as a human? That all those subhuman drives and instincts would just… disappear?”

Luke leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ugly ceiling. 

“What am I thinking? I am a Windhill… I have a job to do and a family to protect. Lord’s strength… what would Alice think…”

Despite himself Luke chuckled as he brought the glass to his lips. “Well… that would certainly be one way to break off the bloody engagement.”

Downing the last sip, Luke set the glass aside and instead began drumming his fingers on the handle of his gun. The once pristine metal was dented and scratched, not surprising considering Luke had thrown it from the top of Chess’ tower. The fine ivory inlay on the handle was cracked and badly chipped.

‘I’ll have to get that fixed…’ Luke sighed to himself as he carefully ran his thumb over the sharp edge.

“One last thing Windhill, before you go.”

“That-That’s my gun! How did you find it?”

“Xia has excellent eyes. You are fortunate it did not land in one of the pools.”

“Well… thank you for finding it.”

“Do not thank me Windhill.  I would never normally give someone such a wretched gift as a gun. But there is someone that you want to protect, and despite all the evil you have done, I trust-”

Luke paused, his thoughts invaded by a strange feeling that drifted through his mind like a scrap of cloth on the wind. His skin tingled, goosebumps crawling up his arms as his heart felt as if it had skipped a beat. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Luke shook his head. “What the-

“Your whisky sir.”

Luke looked up sharply at the canine server, who stood across the table from him.

“Wh-what?”

“Your whiskey? A double Portmans ten twenty four, neat”

“Yes of course. Just… set it down.”

  With a nod the server delicately placed an obnoxiously fancy crystal coaster in front of Luke, followed by a silk doily. Then, with a delicate flourish, the canine set his drink down.

“Thank you.” Luke nodded, taking up the glass.

“My pleasure, sir.” 

As the server bowed and departed, Luke took a sip of his whisky. 

“Protect her. How in the Lord’s name am I supposed to protect her? Does she come and talk to me about Chara? No. Does she tell me when her collar starts to fail? No, she hides it. Does she trust me to forgive her after she hit me? 
No. Instead she runs off and gets the witch.”

The table shuddered as Luke set his drink down hard.

“Trust her… how can I trust her? She’s stabbed me in the back at every turn!”

Luke’s voice was loud enough that several patrons at other tables glanced over, but he didn’t care.

“By the Lord, it’s worse than that... Every single time I trust her to make her own decisions she-”

Again Luke felt his train of thought derailed as the strange feeling slid through his consciousness again. Like a tuft of cotton on the wind, the feeling seemed to evade any attempt to focus upon it.

Then it struck him, he’d felt this sensation only once before, on the plateau back in Flinton valley, when Azee had been set upon by the Order agents.

In an instant Luke got to his feet, tossing a few bills onto the table and grabbing hold of his pistol. Without a word, Luke left the bar car, breaking into a sprint towards the slave carriages at the back of the train.



***



Azee’s ears pressed against her head and she shrank back against the wall as the Order agent advanced on her.

“What did you just say to me?” the man demanded through gritted teeth.

“I-it’s just a child. Y-you don’t n-need to-”

“Are you telling me my business, pelt?”

“N-no…”

“I think you are.” The agent approached, raising the runic tip of his staff and pointing it at Azee. “You calling me a liar, pelt?”

The rune on the end of Tennet’s rod cast a haunting blue glow upon Azee’s trembling form as he loomed over her.

“Tennet, that one ain’t one of ours! Leave it alone!”

“I ain’t gonna damage it.” The Tennet’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at Azee. “Just gonna teach it a lesson.”

“I- I’m s-sorry…” Azee whimpered, shrinking back against the wall as much as she could.

“Not yet you ain’t. But as the Lord’s gazes on me I swear, you are gonna be.”

As the Agent drew up in front of her, a strange feeling came over Azee. Though her heart was racing, her blood roaring in her ears, a powerful sense of indignation and righteous anger welled up in her chest. 

Her hands clenched, her teeth gritted, Azee met the Agent’s gaze directly.

 "You are a coward." 

The words froze Tennet in place, the tip of his rod inches from Azees chest. Despite the fear that was obvious in her trembling arms and legs, Azee’s voice was sharp and clear. She wasn’t posing a question, or lodging an insult. 
This wasn’t a desperate, terrified outburst, but a fact, spoken with the same confidence with which one might observe that the sky was blue.

Tennet took an unconscious step backwards as the pelt glared at him, her red eyes locked on his own. He’d dealt with hundreds of slaves, thousands, perhaps even tens of thousands over his career. Pelts of all ages and types had argued, begged or pleaded with him. He’d even had pelts try and bite him, or shoot him an insult as they were led up to the gallows, their imminent demise granting them a strange sort of desperate bravery. But never, in his life, had one met him like this. There was no fear, no loathing, no desperate anger, but simply, cold, contempt.

‘What am I doing!?’ Azee’s mind screamed at her. But something else, something far stronger pushed her forward. Here, in a filthy slave carriage, with a chain pulling on her fur, her chest still hurting from the rough treatment by the porter, thirsty, tired, hungry, frightened, and thoroughly humiliated, Azee had finally had enough, 

“Coward,” Azee spat, slowly pulling herself to her feet taking a step forward. 

For a few moments, every single person in the carriage held their breath, their eyes locked on the exchange. Even the other agents simply stood and stared.

And then, the moment passed.

A loud crack filled the slave carriage as Tennet swung his stave, striking Azee in the jaw. She stumbled back, dropping to her knees, clutching at her muzzle.

With almost desperate viciousness, Tennet struck Azee again, driving her to the floor.

“You stupid, mangy, uselss pelt!” Tennet howled as he swung his rod again and again. “Say that again! Go on, say it again!”

“Tennet!” Giselle, the female agent, called out as she surged forwards. “Tennet, stand down!”

Azee wanted to yelp and howl in pain as the metal rob pummelled her body. But no matter how hard Tennet struck her, Azee refused to make a sound. He could kill her for all she cared, she was not going to cry out. 

But Azee’s resistance only enraged Tennet further. Delivering a final, savage blow to her back, Tennet paused for a moment and pressed his thumb against a small rune on the handle of his stave. A series of glowing lines grew outwards from beneath his thumb, coiling up the length of the stave until they converged on the glowing rune at the tip. The rune crackled as the colour shifted from a pale blue to an emerald green.

“Tennet don’t!” Giselle barked, grabbing the hilt of Tennet’s rod. “That’ll kill it!” 

Wrenching his weapon free from his comrade’s grip, Tennet savagely drove the glowing rune into Azee’s back.

Agony unlike anything Azee had ever felt roared through her. Even with her eyes closed her world exploded with searing white light. Every muscle in her body convulsed and burned, every fibre of fur felt as if it were being pulled from her skin.

Despite the almost overwhelming pain, a part of Azee’s mind still rang clear. 

‘Not a sound!’

Amongst the maelstrom of burning and suffering, Azee heard, though her brain didn’t register it, the sound of a gunshot. All of a sudden the pain stopped and she collapsed to the floor, fighting for breath. Through the haze she picked out a familiar voice.

“I said back away!” Luke roared as he strode forward, keeping his gun aimed at Tennet. “Get away from her, now!”

Tennet gripped his aching wrist as he glared up at Luke. His stave lay a few metres away, knocked clear of his grip by Luke’s first shot and sparking erratically.

“What do you think you are doing?!” Giselle demanded, placing herself between Luke and Tennet. “Do you realise who we are? We are Agents of the Lord’s Holy Order!”

“I don’t give a damn,” Luke snarled, keeping his gun raised. “That pelt belongs to me!”

“What he means, is that that pelt belongs to the Windhill and Johnsburg families!” Eloise snapped, stepping out from behind Luke, her own pistols raised. She was dressed in her sleeping clothes, a nightgown and a long cotton robe. 
“With that in mind I am sure you can understand why we can’t allow you to damage her further.”

Without another word Luke stormed forwards, keeping his gun aimed at Tennet. Despite the whisky sloshing around in his head, Luke’s aim was steady. Most business between the great families in Halcyon was conducted over a bottle of alcohol. It was a tradition, and considered both a demonstration of wealth, and of constitution. With the aid of his father Luke had taught himself to resist some of the effects.

Giselle moved to place herself between Luke and Tennet. She left her pistol in its holster, but kept a hold of her stave.

“The pelt was acting without respect, and we have authority here,” she said evenly, meeting Luke’s enraged glare with her own icey gaze. “She was defiant, willful, and verbally attacked my colleague.”

“She’s a pelt, what do you expect?”

“For her to obey the bloody rules!” Tennet snapped. “And to know when to keep her sub-human mouth shut!”

“I am aware that Az- that she has been spoiled,” Luke shot back. “But she is still property of the Windhill family.”

Trying to defuse the situation, Giselle spoke in a far more even tone. “I understand that-”

“Then you understand that I cannot, and will not, allow you to damage her!” Luke stepped a little closer. “You do know what happens to people who stand in the way of the Windhill family, don’t you?”

Azee shook her head, trying to clear the buzzing in her ears as Luke and the female agent spoke. Every muscle in her body ached, every square inch of skin itched, and it felt as if someone had reached into her gut and twisted her stomach.

As she shifted, trying to raise herself up onto her knees, she felt someone grab her arm and pull her to her feet.

Blinking blearily, Azee raised her head and looked up at Luke. His face was twisted in anger, but even in her confusion she could see something else beneath the surface. She had not seen such murderous rage on his face in a long time.

“I’m taking her with me. File a complaint if you want, but I refuse to risk Windhill property any further.”

“The canon forbids it!” Giselle replied sharply.

“Show me the verse.”

“Chapter four, verse ten, the non-human shall not-”

“The non-human shall not sit amongst those that chart the path,” Luke interrupted. “Their voices shall be made silent as the course is plotted, for they shall lead us astray.”

“That’s right.”

“And you do realise this is a train?” Luke snarled. “Unless I am mistaken, no ‘course’ is being plotted. I find it hard to imagine that having her in my cabin will prevent us from reaching New Burleigh.”

“Your cabin?”

“Yes, my cabin.” Luke’s eyes narrowed. “I won’t have master Windhill’s property getting damaged in an ‘accident’ between here and New Burleigh”

Luke’s words were too much for Tennet, who surged to his feet, his hand flashing to his gun. “You dare-”

All around the carriage the various slaves ducked and covered their heads in anticipation of a battle, many whimpering or whining in terror.

“Enough!” Giselle grabbed Tennet’s wrist, forcing his arm down before he could aim at Luke.

Peering at the woman, Azee could tell she was very annoyed. However, Luke’s bearing, and the mention of the Windhill name seemed to have cowed her somewhat. The Order of the Crimson Gift was the largest of the Order divisions, but also the least powerful. The Windhill name may have lessened in its importance in the years since the death of Luke’s father, but it was unlikely that the Crimson Gift would risk getting on their bad side.

“The pelt will need to be secured.” Giselle said at last.

Tennet looked back at his comrade, eyes wide. “Are you serious?! You’re going to-”

“And we will be filling a report with chapter headquarters,” Giselle continued, ignoring Tennet’s outburst. “Your employer may well end up having to pay a fine for this.”

“What, has the Order not met its quota for the year?” Eloise asked, raising an eyebrow as she ever-so-slightly lowered her guns.

“We follow the Lord’s canon.” Giselle replied.

“As do we.” Luke grumbled in reply.  “Do not worry, the pelt will learn her lesson, I will see to it.”

“I hope so. Next time, it may well end up being culled.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now, come-” Luke pulled on Azee’s arm a little more roughly than she had expected, “-we’re leaving.”

“I-” Azee stopped herself from complaining and instead bowed her head.

With all the balance she could muster, Azee followed Luke out of the slave carriage, stumbling over the doorframe.

Eloise stayed for a few extra moments, keeping an eye on the order agents. As the door slammed behind Luke and Azee, she slid her guns back into her sleeves and departed with a curt nod.



***



Azee struggled to keep her footing as Luke dragged her down the hallway of one of the bronze class sleeping carriages. Her muscles still shrieked at her, and her feet didn’t seem to go where she was telling them to go. It felt as if she were drunk, though unlike the few occasions of celebration allowed to the slaves, or the moments spent in front of a fire with Luke and a bottle or two, there was no pleasantness to this sensation. 

“Just… give me a moment,” Azee gasped, her throat raw and scratchy.

Luke didn’t even turn to look at her as he threw open the carriage’s rear door and pulled her through. 

Azee winced as Luke tightened his grip, dragging her across the catwalk between two cars. “Ow… Luke, you’re hurting me!”

“Stop complaining.”

Unable to resist Luke’s temporarily superior strength, Azee stumbled along behind him through several more cars, before finally arriving at the silver class section of the train. A well-to-do couple gasped, first in indignation, then in shock as Luke dragged Azee past them.

As Azee was dragged past she heard the woman gasp: “A pelt, allowed up here? Madness!”

Finally arriving at his cabin, Luke threw open the door and shoved Azee inside.

Azee fell to her knees as Luke slammed the door behind him

“What is wrong with you?!” Azee’s teeth flashed as she spun around glared up at Luke. “Don’t you-”

The cabin echoed with the sound of Luke’s hand colliding hard against Azee’s cheek and muzzle. 

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you!” Luke’s hand bunched into fists as he glared down at Azee. “You couldn’t just sit still and do as you were told for one day?!”

Azee stared, wide eyed, up at Luke, her whole body shaking. She’d been whipped, beaten, had her hands scalded with hot water, her tail pulled, and she’d been shot, but not one of those wounds felt as painful, or as deep, as the hurt spreading out from her cheek.

“Y-you hit me…”

“Damn right I did! You’re acting like a bloody fool!”

Hot tears welled up in Azee’s eyes. Never, in her entire life, had Luke hit her in anger. 

“He… he was… he was going to hurt a child!”

“I don’t care!”

Azee’s eyes widened. “How can you say-”

“The only pelt I give a damn about is you!”

Azee’s ears pressed flat against her head. “Well, you certainly have a fucked up way of showing it.” 

Something in Luke’s mind snapped, his mind torn apart by a wave of rage and frustration.

  “You stupid, little fool!” Luke rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he advanced on Azee. “You’ve been asking for this lesson for a long time now!”

Azee instinctually recoiled in fear as Luke bore down upon her.

At that moment, the cabin door slammed open with such force it fractured the glass window. Before either Luke or Azee could react, Eloise stepped forwards, gripping Luke’s right shoulder and spinning him around.

A sickening crack rang out as Eloise drove her forehead into Luke’s nose. As he stumbled backwards, coughing raggedly from his own blood, Eloise swept forward, her robe billowing out behind her like a stormcloud.

Luke felt the air rush from his lungs as Eloise drove her left fist into his stomach, just below his rib cage. He swung at Eloise with his own fist, guided more by anger than any sort of strategy.

Her movements a blur, Eloise blocked Luke’s clumsy blow and followed up with one of her own, striking him in the jaw. Using the momentum of her own punch, Eloise seized hold of the front of Luke’s shirt and flipped him over her shoulder. Luke hit the floor hard and lay there, dazed, winded, and bleeding, 

“Are you alright?” Eloise asked, glancing back at Azee.

Azee nodded, her heart thundering in her chest and her ears filled with the sound of her blood rushing. “Y-yes.”

“Good.” Eloise looked back at Luke. “And as for you…”

As Luke tried to sit up, he felt a sudden flush of pain from his groin.

“Now you listen here…” Eloise leaned closer, her foot pressing down harder with every passing second. “If you ever threaten to beat Azee again, I will kill you. Do you understand?”

Luke started to protest, but his words turned into groans as Eloise pushed down harder with her foot.

“I asked if you understood.”

“Yes.” Luke moaned.

“Good.” Eloise released her foot and hauled Luke to his feet by the front of his shirt. “Now, I think you should leave.” She jerked her head towards the door. “Go get something for that nose.”

Before Luke could argue, he caught sight of Azee, still huddled on the floor, looking up at him with angry, pain filled eyes. Luke’s shoulders slumped and his words of defiance died in his throat.

Blood still dripping from his nose, Luke turned towards the door. He paused for a moment and looked back.

“Azee… I’m-”

“Get out,” Eloise snapped, placing herself between Azee and Luke. “Now.”

Slowly Luke turned back towards the door and stepped out into the hallway. The door slammed shut behind him, followed by the shade and the sound of the bolt sliding home.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Luke set off back towards the bar car.



***



Testing to make certain the door was latched tight, Eloise turned back to Azee. “There, that should keep him out.”

Still shaking from head to toe, Azee pulled herself to her feet. “Th-thank you."

“Did he hurt you at all?”

“I…” Azee looked down at her arm, before shaking her head. “No worse than that order agent did.”

“Good.” Eloise gestured for Azee to turn around. “Let’s see that burn mark.”

Azee turned towards the window, and soon felt Eloise combing through the fur on her back. She hissed as Eloise touched the place where the Agent’s stave had scorched her flesh.

“What did it feel like when he shocked you?” Eloise asked, gently touching around the patch of burned hair and singed skin.

“I… I don’t know how to describe it.” Azee couldn’t stop herself from shivering. “I just… lost all control of my body.” As she spoke, a powerful wave of despair and grief rolled through her.

“Hmm…” Eloise peered again at the skin around the burn. She noted a collection of tiny light blue lines tracing Azee’s veins around the area. Before her eyes, the colour faded and the lines disappeared.

“Well, it could have been a great deal worse, you’re lucky that-” Eloise paused as Azee’s shoulders started to shake. “Azee?”

Gently Eloise turned Azee around. Her cheeks were matted from tears as she fought hard not to cry.

“I-I’m s-sorry.” Azee whimpered.

“Oh Azee…” Eloise gently guided her towards one of the couches. As soon as she sat down, Azee buried her muzzle in Eloise’s lap and began to sob uncontrollably.

Uncertain of what to do, Eloise began awkwardly stroking Azee’s back. “There there… It’s alright now..”

“He’s n-never h-hit me b-before. All we’ve b-been through, and-and never...”

“I know sweet one, it’s alright.” Eloise continued to stroke Azee’s hair and back. “He was being very, very stupid.”

“I… I can’t take this anymore.” Azee whimpered, her hand bunching up Eloise’s dress. “I’m s-so scared…”

“I know.”

“I c-can’t t-take it anymore. I… I’d rather be dead!”

“Shhh… you don’t mean that.”

“I do!” Azee looked up at Eloise, barely able to speak through her sobbing. “I… I can’t…. I can’t b-be a s-slave again! I d-don’t w-want to, I can’t!” Again she buried her head in Eloise’s lap. “Please…. Please don’t make me.”

With a smile warmer than she thought herself capable of, Eloise pulled Azee against her and gently rocked her back and forth.

“It’s alright… I promise you, you won’t be a slave again. I will never let that happen.”



***



“I can’t believe we’re letting them go.” Tennet snarled, shoving his gun back in it’s holster and pulling his arm free of Giselle’s grip as Eloise left the slave carriage. “That little pelt bitch called me a coward!”

“As you were preparing to torture a woman and a baby.” The third order agent replied dryly. “Frankly, she had a point.”

“You want some of that too?” Tennet barked. “Cause Lord help me, if you wanna fight I’m just about ready to-”

“Tennet, Morris, that’s enough!” Giselle snapped, rounding on her comrades. “Let’s just get this bloody job done and get some damned sleep.”

As Tennet took up his soiled book once more, Morris stepped up beside Giselle.

“Did you notice anything strange about what just happened,” Morris asked, keeping his voice as low as he could.  

“You mean about that man protecting that pelt?”

“That… and the fact that Tennet hit her with his stun rod at full power.” He gestured at the lapine, who was still struggling to even get to his knees. “Just look at that one, Tennet didn’t hit him with half as much as he belted that canine with. I’ve seen ursines get their heads scrambled from a shock that strong. It’s a miracle she’s still alive, let alone able to get to her feet.” 

Giselle glanced over at Tennet as he set about writing down the details of another slave. “Maybe his rod needs recharging.” 

“You ever known Tennet to let his rod’s charge get low?”

“No…” Giselle frowned. “So, what is it you are suggesting?”

Morris lowered his voice again. “There are those rumours, about pelts who can-”

“Those are rumours, nothing more!”

 Giselle’s tone silenced Morris in an instant. A few curious slaves glanced over at the two agents, but recoiled as Giselle shot them a threatening glare.

“You bums plan to help or not?” Tennet called out. “Still have another car of these beasts to go through you know!”

“You know full well what the chantry thinks of those rumours, and those that spread them.” Giselle hissed, grabbing Morris by the arm and dragging him with her.

“I know, I know, just seemed strange is all.”

“We’ll just have to be sure to report it.” Giselle looked over her shoulder. “That whole encounter seemed strange to me.”

Morris nodded in agreement, before both he and Giselle returned to their work.

***



End of Part 22
Special thanks to my Patrons: Dowel-Rod, Tokamak, ArcaniA20, Technic_Bot, Kapłan Sekty Pieczarek, Dbail & K’vofe!
And Special thanks to K’vofe for his stellar editing work.
