Sleeping Beast Ch. 10

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Reservations, revelations, and relations.
10.9k words
4.85
10.5k
20

Part 10 of the 12 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 11/18/2016
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SteffiOlsen
SteffiOlsen
1,036 Followers

REMINDER-- I write long stories; some parts-- like this one-- don't have naughty bits, but the parts that do will make more sense if you read the non-naughty bits, too. . . . . PS-- #&%^$#!!! (Russian cuss-words) I seriously hate "winging it" and post-as-you-go makes it worse! A lot of stuff will end up changing or moving after the entire story is finished, which made my muse particularly bitchy when it came to writing this chapter. Anyway, three more to go, I think, as soon as possible, and next week I'll put up the first chapter of TT2-- which is completely finished-- and twice as long as the first Texas Trio! Thanks for hanging in here with me!

--:--:--:--:--:--:--

In a few strides, the beast passed the vastly slower humans.

When Nivid crashed through the castle door and hurtled into the dying day, she was standing calmly in the middle of the pack, the two youngest wolves hopping happily in circles around her knees.

With illness evening out the advantage of his longer legs, Argus barely kept pace with Talgut, but they weren't far behind the beast: he hadn't yet reached her side when they raced into sight.

In snarls and growls, the pack bolted from Troi's side. Reversing directions in self-preserving panic, the two men managed to gain the castle's safety and secure the door a moment before the largest male collided with it. Desperation replaced by panting relief, Talgut and Argus collapsed against the solid wood. Rolling sideways, his chest heaving, Argus threw open a tiny door, revealing the barred, glassless window Nivid had suggested they install. The last blues of twilight were gone, but in the rising moon's cool glow, the mountaintop was bright. Through an intermittent wall of fanged, leaping beasts, the men caught glimpses of Troi at the other side of the field.

For a disbelieving moment, they gaped at her. If laboring lungs hadn't precluded conversation, they would nonetheless have been rendered speechless by confirmation of their first, horrified impressions; in a millisecond of reprieve before the wolves recognized their presence, Talgut and Argus had already seen that rescue was unnecessary. Troi was unharmed. The few wolves not currently doing their damnedest to eat the two men sat in a semi-circle around her, some within kicking-- or biting distance-- of her feet. Yet she was unhurt and apparently unruffled by their presence.

And even in the absence of sunlight, they saw the inferno building between the beast and his human captive.

Nivid's mind was a hot, glowing ball in the center of his brother's head-- individual thoughts undetectable in the thunder of pounding heart and panicked veins. Argus was prepared to pass everything to Nivid; he expected it, but the moment never came. When he and Talgut burst from the castle door, Nivid was halfway across the field, and the fiery ball in Argus' head became a conflagration of red and orange.

The terror of believing she was dead hadn't left him as he tore across the field.

For two full minutes, while Talgut and Argus scrambled inside and barred the door against the hungry pack, Nivid was purely animal. Unable to speak, he stood facing Troitsa, shaking with the effort of containing his emotions. The wiry mane lifted into a thundercloud of black, making his massive form seem even larger. His dark nostrils flared with every rumble from the cavernous chest. Muscles from horn to hoof trembled, racing to rise in ropes and tendons above the rest.

The few wolves who hadn't swarmed the other men lowered their bodies toward the ground, slinking away from the venomous stink of death which clung to the creature, encircling everyone within range of the huge, taloned fists, but the singeing heat of the beast's crimson-ringed eyes stayed fixed on the glaring woman half a pace a way, whose head didn't reach the level of his jutting, angry chin.

She was alive.

Argus and Talgut reached safety and with Nivid's returning will came sanity, of a sort. Enough of his mind was working for him to comprehend the fact that his woman wasn't dead.

If he could keep himself from killing her.`

Nivid knew he'd never, in his entire life, been as scared as he'd been in the past few minutes. He'd seen the way the wolves reacted to her, of course, even felt the absence of predatory instinct in the air, but he would never, ever have been able to picture the scene before him.

Incomprehensibly, the wolves who hadn't taken off in pursuit of the other men had arrayed themselves in a half-circle around Troi, facing him down. He could sense their reluctance, but also their resolve. Not only would they not harm Troi, they would protect her. From him.

The thought enraged him further. Not that the wolves were opposing him-- he wasn't stupid enough to believe they viewed him as part of the pack-- but that they interpreted his anger as dangerous to his woman.

There had been no thoughts in his head when he followed her, just pure fear laid over a foundation of knowledge and commitment. He'd die. He'd die to save her. He'd die in her stead. If it took his last breath and the life of every wolf on this mountaintop, he'd sacrifice them all. He'd forfeit his brother and his friend, too, if the gods who had deserted the Denova line would simply allow his sweet and sparkling nomad girl to LIVE.

But he'd emerged from the castle to discover that not only wasn't Troi hurt, the damned wolves were protecting her. From him.

Even with intellect and will returned to him-- and Argus offering most of his besides-- Nivid was speechless. For endless moments, he heaved and shook, and he glared at Troi. Who didn't take her eyes from him. Through the burning, bitter swirl of his own emotions, Nivid was unable to taste hers.

With one final hiss of air through his teeth, Nivid growled one word. "Inside."

Her determination was withering, he saw, the posture which spoke of such steadfast calm collapsing, while her lips twitched and her shoulders curled forward, but Troi's nostrils flared and her voice was steady when she answered him. "I am not a slave."

"INSIDE," Nivid thundered, the massive arm tapering to talons which pointed the way back to safety, back to the castle, back to the tower, and back into the life where she now belonged.

Two of the wolves flattened themselves to the ground at her feet as he roared the command, but the larger animals stood, heads low and ears alert, their eyes fixed intently on his.

Troi trembled visibly, her hands fisted at her sides.

"No," she gritted out. "I will go nowhere with you."

Nivid was on the verge of giving in to the urge to throw her over his shoulder, though instinct, intellect, Argus, and the wolves all shrieked that would be the wrong response.

Then Troi blinked, and the fire in her eyes began to waver in a flood of glassy pain.

The lurid film of rage fell from Nivid's eyes and bared his senses to the emotions beneath Troi's shattered confidence. The wave of grief, horror and disgust she was feeling poured through his nose and into the center of his heart.

Nivid broke.

The facial muscles he'd been using to approximate human expression went suddenly slack, and for the first time in twenty years, he felt the burning sting of tears. An anguished roar burst from his body as he spun, disappearing into the black, sheltering taiga.

Troi collapsed.

Argus slid down the wooden surface to the cold stone floor, but Talgut watched through the fortified viewing port as Troi fell, dissolving into sobs. With a whine, two lanky young wolves separated from the pack in front of the door, streaking back across the field. The remainder, who had ceased their ardent snarling at the sound of Nivid's roar, turned and loped away.

--:--:-- o --:--:--

Morning was creeping over the taiga when Troi at last sought shelter.

The wolves who didn't follow Nivid surrounded her as she sobbed. Those who had stayed to defend her from the beast kept watch, while the two young males lay beside her. From the small square window, not much was visible, but when Talgut climbed to the parapet above, he could see that she was curled on her side, one wolf stretched along her spine, another furry body encircling her arms, its head resting directly atop hers.

When the automatic timpani of panic subsided, Talgut was forced to look away. Her wailing had deteriorated to simple tears, but the picture of her huddled desolate in the moonlit field was almost enough to make him cry, too. He went back to stand sentry at the door and sent Argus to watch from above.

After an hour or so, she shifted, and the wolf who'd been curled around her head turned away, lying down to mimic her position, it's back to Troi's front. Her tears had dissipated by then, leaving her sniffing loudly, and Argus almost called out for her to come inside. Then she threw her arm around the wolf's neck and, burying her face in its fur, began to weep again. After a while, she cried herself to sleep.

He went back down to relieve Talgut, who refused and sent him to bed instead. Argus conceded, but if he hadn't been dying, he didn't think he would have been able to sleep.

In the early hours, he returned, sending Talgut to bed, and it was almost dawn when the indistinct shapes in the field began to stir. Troi uncurled to stand above them, pushing her hair back and tiredly tugging her dress into place.

"Troi," Argus called softly through the iron-grilled square. For a moment, he thought she hadn't heard him, though a couple of the wolves lifted their heads to look in his direction. He waited, and eventually she began to pick her way to the door, tiptoeing among the waking pack. Twice she was forced to stop and pet a larger wolf who butted up against her hip or thigh, insisting on a more formal greeting than the soft words she'd murmured to the others.

Argus nearly choked on the fear he felt rising from his chest as he watched.

Those were WOLVES.

Nivid had been hunting with them for two decades, but Nivid was probably 300 pounds, six and a half feet of horned fury when angered. Troi was lithe and strong and stubborn, but her shoulders weren't as wide as one of Nivid's thighs, and most of the creatures in the field outweighed her. Even the smallest of them could crush her throat with one half-hearted snap of its sturdy, fanged jaw, and there was something so essentially wrong about watching her walk among them that his skin crawled. Academically, he knew he'd be torn to pieces in only a minute or two, but Argus ached to wrench open the door and throw himself between Troi and those dangerous beasts.

He huffed an unamused laugh.

Dangerous beasts.

From the rage he'd seen behind her short tirade, he imagined that was exactly what Troi would call them.

--:--:--:--:--:--:-- Day 1 --:--:--:--:--:--

With the grace of nobility, she swept past as he latched the door, proceeding to her room without a word.

Argus heated water and left a kettle of wash-water outside her door when he brought food for her. He knocked and called out to let her know, then went to bed, where his illness had been forcing him more and more frequently during daylight hours.

Talgut duplicated the tribute without knowing of Argus', but it was time for the evening meal by then, anyway, and he added wine.

--:--:--:--:--:--:-- Day 2 --:--:--:--:--:--:--

Troi was in the kitchen the next morning when Argus arrived.

"Dobraye utra," he greeted her as he passed, noting her swollen eyes and pink mustache.

She departed, saying nothing, but Argus was pleasantly surprised that she'd left hot water on the stove for him and Talgut.

"She say anything?" Talgut asked when he arrived.

Argus looked at the kitchen door and shook his head.

Talgut poured tea and found some biscuits in the pantry. Putting the tin in the middle of the table, he sat down across from Argus. Halfway through their "meal," such as it was, he asked after the missing member of their trio. "Nivid?"

Argus shook his head, only volunteering more when Talgut refused to look away. "He made a mess yesterday, killed the first goat he came across, tore it to shreds, left it for the wolves. Nothing since then."

"Nothing?"

Argus grunted. "He's holed up in-- not quite a cave-- but there's a limestone ledge, side of a hill somewhere." He shook his head again. "He's-- not hibernating, not sleeping, but . . . he's thrown me most of it. Not all his consciousness, but everything else."

Which explained why Argus seemed more lively, Talgut thought.

They sipped their tea in silence for a bit before Talgut commented, "It's not like we kept anything from her-- not about that. What we did to get the women, I mean."

There wasn't a question in what Talgut said, but Argus thought he expected a reply. He had none.

The remainder of that day went much the same as the day before, with Talgut and Argus leaving offerings at Troi's door. Occasionally, they heard weeping as they strolled aimlessly in the corridor. outside her room. Then they'd turn away without making any eye contact, leaving her alone for a few hours.

--:--

"We going to talk about the other thing?" Talgut asked in the drawing room that evening, more as a way of distracting Argus from his brother's plight than any need to examine the topic he'd broached.

Wrinkled brows smoothed quickly when Argus realized what "the other thing" was. "You mean the wolves."

The empty glass in his hands reflected shards of golden firelight. "Well, she was right, wasn't she? Procuring women for Nivid? They're definitely not acting of their own free will, are they?"

They were both silent for a bit.

"Why, though?" Talgut asked, knowing perfectly well he sounded like a certain curious, persistent Bashkir girl.

Argus lifted a brow.

Talgut explained himself. "Well, we agree they are bewitched. As Troi said, I can see them staying near Nivid, perhaps ensuring he lives to continue the curse--" Argus had informed him of Nivid's theory-- among other things. "--but why her?"

"Her presence here is secure," he continued. "What purpose would their attention or affection serve now?"

Argus bobbed his head.

"Da," he agreed. "They ought to be vicious-- to keep her in the castle-- if it concerns the curse." His eyes brushed over the door, which was warded from without. "But you remember what she said to me at the cliff?"

Curbing the natural urge to lower his eyes as a wave of sadness washed over him, Talgut nodded.

"Nothing was warded then. Troi and I were near the edge of the woods, and when I spoke to you later that day, we were on an open gallery, where anyone might have heard."

Talgut thought it through. "You think the witch would know that Troi is barren."

Argus' eyebrow rose again, with a shoulder accompanying it this time.

Talgut asked, "But would the wolves not simply kill her? Or drive her from Zamok Denova so that we would seek another woman for your brother?"

Argus' silence summed up their situation: though both suspected Troi had information she wasn't sharing, they still knew very little.

--:--:--:--:--:-- Day 3 --:--:--:--:--:--

On the third day, after she pretended not to see them in the kitchen, Argus decided it was time for Troi to talk, if only to get the hollering out of her system. He knocked on her door and spoke patiently through it, hoping she could hear him, and went back to knocking when he got no response. After fifteen or twenty minutes, she opened the door, swept by without a glance, and went outside.

"Apparently she's not ready to talk," Talgut remarked from over his shoulder.

Argus cursed as he stalked away.

The wolves were still out, so-- unlike Troi and Nivid-- Talgut and Argus were stuck inside the castle.

Nivid wasn't communicating with his brother---- Nivid was sunk so deeply into his own misery, he wasn't exactly "present" at the moment-- but he'd gotten enough flashes through their bond to know most of the pack was with him. He went up on the gallery and watched her wander aimlessly around the edges of the meadow, always with a wolf or three within touching distance.

Troi returned to the castle several hours later, and he left her alone for the rest of the day.

He passed her slipping out of the kitchen near sunset, bearing a small cloth bundle in her hands, her eyelids and nose still scarlet and puffy. He greeted her softly, unanswered, wondering what was in the bundle. He and Talgut were getting desperate.

--:--:--:--:--:-- Day 4 --:--:--:--:--:--

They discussed it the next day at tea-and-biscuit time, which had become tea-and-flatbread time.

"We're eating pemmican and porridge, Argus, but we're out of pemmican," Talgut complained.

They were out of many things. "We're down to last year's cabbage, potatoes, plus flour, oats, those things. There's a couple jars of pickled this-n-that, wine, and dried beans."

Argus made a face. "You tried the dovecote?"

"After we eat I will, but since Troi was grumbling about it being so bad that the doves refused to roost in it, I don't anticipate finding any nests there."

Argus rubbed his temple. "Well, we won't starve in the next few weeks, but it won't be pleasant."

"I can make soup," Talgut volunteered, smiling as Argus flinched and put on a horrified expression.

"Khristos, no!"

Talgut asked again about Nivid.

Argus shook his head, looking away.

"Nothing?"

He lifted his shoulders a mere inch. "The wolves are bringing him rabbits. He's eaten a couple, and he's been to the brook to drink, but he goes right back to his den."

Argus' face was drawn and tight across the bones of his face, already too sharply defined by illness and fatigue. "He's . . . not good."

Talgut winced and let it go.

--:--:--:--:--:-- Day 5 --:--:--:--:--:--

On the fifth day, Talgut managed to snare four of the snobbish doves who had refused Denova hospitality. He cleaned and cooked one each for himself and Argus, charring the narrow bits, but they were delicious nonetheless. He left two cleaned and wrapped in the spring room for Troi, and hollered the information through the door when he left a kettle of hot water and a bucket of cold for her bath. He figured she'd do the same thing she'd done two days ago, leaving the door of her room open when she went outside, giving him an opportunity to empty the soapy water from her tub. He grumbled and glared at Argus while he did so, because his friend looked as though there might be a Repka, dedka lurking behind the tense line of his lips.

It was a miracle the man could still laugh, Talgut thought.

His brother was out in a hole somewhere, the woman he loved-- who didn't love him back-- wasn't speaking to him, and whatever ailment he had seemed to be worsening. He barely ate the paltry amounts Talgut set before them. No one had spoken of it to Talgut, though, so he didn't mention it.

"You're lucky she's emptying her own chamber-pot," Argus remarked.

Talgut snorted. "She's lucky she's emptying her own chamber-pot," he corrected. He felt bad for the grief he heard seeping through her door each day, but he had his limits.

--:--:--:--:--:-- Day 6 --:--:--:--:--:--

Talgut reached those limits the following day.

He hadn't caught any more doves and he was sick of cabbage, potatoes, mash, and making his own meals, in general. Every day Argus had gone to Troi's door to speak with her about what happened the night Nivid left. She'd yet to reply. When Argus persisted, she stormed past him and escaped to the meadow.

After a repeat performance on the morning of the sixth day, Talgut watched her from the second-level gallery. He'd gone up there because it overlooked the kitchen garden. With the wolves around, he couldn't go out to work, and he wanted to know how bad the weeds were getting. It was ugly. Not only couldn't he see most of their cultivated plants through the forest of invasive weeds, but something had been digging on the north side, apparently feasting on roots of the potato plants which had been coming along so well. He was still staring at the churned-up dirt in belly-rumbling disgust when he heard Troi laugh.

SteffiOlsen
SteffiOlsen
1,036 Followers