Lodira didn’t resist when her father beat her, nor did the coachman interfere. It was all she could do to keep moving her legs, stumbling toward the entrance to the manor as he strode through the doors.

The great house was as it had always been, double wide wooden doors of heavy oak with metal strips over the front, the family crest of a whip on a shield painted between the two. It opened as she was half walked, half dragged. Lodira cried out with pain at the pull on her beautiful hair, her hands flailing out to catch herself when he dropped her to the floor, but he didn’t stop there.

He took her that way over the stone steps, past watching slaves who bowed their heads to keep from watching the display, all the way to his office. That at least, had a dark black carpet. He kicked the door behind him to slam it shut and threw her bodily to the floor. “You stupid… stupid girl!” He yelled and left her collapsed on the floor where he tossed her while he walked around behind his desk.

“I didn’t do it!” Lodira cried out and wiped her tears of pain away.

“It would be better if you had!” He slammed his wrinkled old fist down on the desk.

“Wh-What…?” She shot her eyes to her father in surprise.

“If you had done it, then at least you’d have maybe thought it through first, come up with a plan for what to do afterward, had the forethought to arrange to be away, far, far away. Or given me a warning so I could arrange a marriage that couldn’t be backed out of!” He snarled at the collapsed daughter on the floor.

“If you’d at least bred an heir for the old bastard, or been able to pass off a pregnancy as his, then his estate would be yours even if people thought you’d done it! But you… you couldn’t even do that…” His fury seemed to be fading, and only contempt, no less cutting, came out in every word.

Lodira could only look down at the floor, “That was his fault more than mine… he was simply too old to manage much…”

“Shut up… you stupid… stupid little whore. Don’t act like word of your ‘sexcapades’ didn’t make it back here. Your petty revenge fairly required it. You’ve spent the last few years humiliating this house and his to punish your husband for having the gall to marry you. You humiliated him so much by your open affairs that now I can’t pay anyone to take you. Even the Prince of Pas’en can’t do it! So… now what?”

It cut deep. “I’m your daughter… not one of your cows…” She looked at him through tears of rage.

“You’re damn right!” He thrust a finger out toward her in a furious gesture, “You were supposed to marry, have children, and further his house and this one! This family is a business, Lodira! You marry Ulmin, give us access to the great lands of Pas’en for the seasonal grazing of our cattle, and help ensure both of our lines by having heirs that would inherit those grounds. You failed at all of it, and ruined a second chance with anyone else.”

Her father stood up, fists folded on the oak desk, and leaned forward slightly to speak through gritted teeth. “So, you tell me, my slut of a daughter, what am I supposed to do with you now?”

“I didn’t do it…” Lodira whispered again, unable to think of what else to say.

The old man punched down on the desk sharply, walked around to where she lay, and slapped her across the face again so that she fell the rest of the way down to the floor. “Stop saying that as if it matters. It doesn’t, and you know it. All that matters is what people think! They think you did it, they think you betrayed him in bed and they think you did it to get a higher station, if you’d managed at least that much ‘somehow’ I would have praised you. But you didn’t. People think you can’t breed, can’t be trusted to produce true heirs, and will kill your own mate in the bed you share with them… that’s what matters. Whether it is true or not is the least important question of all.”

Lodira wiped the blood from her lip and tried to raise her head, only for another slap to snap her face down to the floor again.

“So… what am I supposed to do with you now? The fact that you’re here means that even Prince Rasgen has gotten rid of you to protect himself.”

“Do you understand the meaning of that?!” He yelled and she tried to look up again.

“Father… I…” She started to say.

His hand cracked against her jaw, and he answered for her. “It means you have nothing, you are nothing.” Count Anton Valoisin stared down at her so hard that she felt the weight of his gaze and remained looking down.

“And what good is ‘nothing’ to me?” He seethed down at her through clenched teeth.

“I-I don’t know, father.” Lodira replied through a choked up voice, the burning of his slaps on her face was like fire, and she held her hand to the worst of the two injured sides.

He crouched down in front of her, and grabbing her hair, he yanked her up to face him. She saw her eyes reflected back at her, in eyes which looked just like her own. He grabbed her chin and squeezed it painfully between his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know either. But by next year, I will. For now, you’re going to informally lose your title. You’ll enter training under the Steward as a maid. If the Tlalmok levy us for tributes next year, I’ll send you to them as a noble to save some of our more valuable males, every woman is worth three to five men to them, and five to seven if that woman is of noble birth. At least that way you can save a few lives and the cost of replacing the ones we would lose.”

She looked at him in horror. “I’m your daughter!” She tried to wail, only for him to thrust her jaw up to, loudly snapping her teeth together to shut her off from speech.

“That is why I wait a year.” He snarled, “If they don’t levy us next, I’ll see if one of the courtesan halls will take you. At that at least, you should excel. But if they don’t because of the suspicions about murder, then I have no choice. You’ll be disowned, and sold so I can at least recoup the cost of the dowry you wasted. Then I’ll be relieved of one very unnecessary burden.”

Anton stood up straight, she heard the faint popping of his knees when he rose, but he betrayed none of his age when he returned to his desk. “Get to your old room. You’ll find the Steward waiting with a change of clothing befitting your new station in this house, then he’ll show you to your new quarters. After that, never call me father again.”

He reached to the bell on his desk, rang it once, and the door promptly opened, a slender young maid with chestnut hair poked her head in. “Master?” She asked, and he pointed to his daughter on the carpet.

“Get the new maid out of here, see that she goes where she’s told, and put it out to the rest of the staff… do not let that one slack off.” Anton glared down at Lodira with the utmost contempt while she rubbed her face and looked back out of the corner of her eye.

“I had a daughter once who nearly destroyed this house by her stupidity.” He said as the maid entered and helped Lodira to rise, “Now I don’t have that problem anymore, just a new maid that needs to learn her tasks.” Anton muttered as the pair shuffled out. ‘At least her siblings aren’t such disappointments.’ He grumbled and took a sheet of paper. ‘Now I need to decide how to divide what would have been Lodira’s part of the estate among the rest of them, I suppose the best way to do that is to invite them here and work it out in person.’ He coughed when a chilly gust of wind struck suddenly through the window and hit him in the face. He ignored it, and went back to writing the invitations.

Nua woke before the sunrise, having drifted off herself. As soon as she felt her eyes open, she touched the sleeping face of Sobella. It was obvious that the woman hadn’t escaped tears even in her dreams. ‘Maybe you should have done what she wanted. By the bones of god… are you still hung up on that? How long has it been?’ She sighed with disappointed dejection at finding out she wasn’t as beyond her memories as she thought she was, and slowly stirred, gradually bringing the demon-elf courtesan to wakefulness.

“Time to go.” Nua said with quiet calm, and when she got up, she went to take up a hood that had been cast off into the corner.

“Here, put this on.” Nua demanded, thrusting it out toward Sobella as soon as the woman stood.

“You don’t need to see.” Nua said and thrust it toward the hesitant demon-elf again, “Take it off when this place is behind us.

Sobella almost broke into tears again, but with a hesitant hand she took the hood and covered her head.

Nua reached out and took her hand, and then taking the horse by the reins with her other hand, she led them both outside into the darkness of Silence. “I’m sorry.” Sobella whimpered after Nua helped her get up into the horse behind her. Slender arms folded around Nua’s waist, then powerful warrior legs kicked slightly against the horse’s flanks, and they trotted on.

Nua looked around, the darkness being no real barrier to the priestess of death. Broken bones lay everywhere, the scent of blood and alcohol was thick in the air, some of the beastmen lay draped about, some on top of one another, some over objects, some in puddles of spilled over blood.

She etched it onto her memory as she left the last village.

Sobella held as tight to Nua as if she were a second set of armor, the hood kept her from sight, but it did not keep her from knowledge of what the horse’s slow hooves were carrying them past.

Pity for the woman was as much a companion as the woman herself as far as Nua was concerned, and she wanted nothing more than to put the town at their back as quickly as possible. Despite this, she slowed her horse when she saw the hyenawoman who ruled the town, standing at the open gate as if waiting for her.

“Do you need anything, beastwoman?” Nua asked, halting finally just a pace beyond her, halfway between the inside of the town and the space beyond it.

The hyenawoman turned around, “No. No I don’t, elf. But… you are unexpectedly brave, and also… you have a wonderful singing voice. That is all. Go, now.”

Nua nodded, “I wonder if any of the others had the same. I suppose we’ll never know.”

“I suppose not. I suppose not.” The hyenawoman walked past, and Nua rode on, leaving Silence behind them both.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Sobella said over and over again, holding onto Nua like the escort might float away.

That was how the hours of the days passed for them both, with Sobella being very silent, and muttering apologies. Barely any conversation passed between them for anything else until the third day of travel over the open road further west.

“Stop.” Sobella said as the horse trod the dirt road underneath them.

“If you need to relieve yourself, that forest up ahead will give you some privacy.” Nua pointed to the woods that were drawing closer. “I can spur the horse faster, it can handle a run…”

“No!” Sobella shook her head. “Please stop! I’m sorry!” She shouted loud enough for her voice to carry over the plains to the distant hills. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” She let it out like a desperate wail as if she were among the ones who died in the town of Silence.

Nua yanked back on the horse’s reins. It backed up a few paces before stopping entirely. She looked over her shoulder, “Sobella, it’s OK that you wanted to do that with me… you asked, I said no, you accepted my answer, I don’t hold it against you. If I were not… who I am, I probably would have responded differently, but…”

She felt Sobella pound a fist on her armored back. “No! Not for that!” Sobella exclaimed, “For the next… stars forgive me…”

Sobella felt the familiar tension of her escort, her friend. ‘She knows something is wrong, and she’s right… how could I do this… how could I have done this to her…’

Sobella hung her head, in shame, “Nua… no, ‘Duchessa Aiwenor’. I have no right to use your first name as a friend when I kept this from you. I don’t.”

“The next place, it’s watching, I have to watch the slaughter, I have to watch them die.” Sobella explained, “And…” She started to move on, only for Nua to interrupt.

"...So I have to watch the killing too, do I?" Nua asked with the serenity of the damned.

"Yes, that’s right, we both do. It is as you say.” Sobella replied, the serenity that replaced Nua’s brief tension brought her further despair. The easy calm of the elf in front of her shone a light on the demon-elf’s own fears.

“But that isn’t it, is it, you wouldn’t be apologizing if that were all?” Nua pressed the matter home while she stared blankly ahead.

“You’re… you’re right. As I told you, I have... to watch what is going to happen to me, to see it done to others, including... well, my race reproduces so slowly they don't have any of us to breed, but... they'll probably paint someone up like a demon-elf, put them in some kind of a costume to mock me... then make me watch them slaughter her alive... but before that... this is the other thing General Leaman should have told you about this step..." Sobella's hands clung tighter than ever before to Nua's waist. She held her head beside Nua's own, so close that the bone horn at the side rubbed against the side of Nua's own head. "I have to beg your forgiveness too... I'm as bad as Leaman, because I didn't tell you either... I was afraid of going alone, despite my offer to do so..."

"What do I need to know, Sobella?" Nua asked in a voice as calm as still waters, while cutting through her charge’s repetitive rambling.

"It's tradition for the Tlalmok to let escorts offer up a champion... someone to fight a beastman in exchange for one of those to be slaughtered. The chance to save a life... most of the time, nobody takes it. So the beastmen pick out one and... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I should have told you, I should have... I just didn't want to go alone... If you don't want to go further, you can probably get back safely, I'll tell them you died on the way, or killed yourself, you've done enough for me..." Sobella's lip quivered as she begged forgiveness and slowly broke down.

"They will 'make' someone fight, and then eat them when they fail. Am I wrong?" Nua asked rhetorically.

"No..." Sobella answered, "You're not wrong... but you shouldn't have to..."

"It's fine." Nua shrugged. "I'm not pleased that you lied to me, even if by omission, but it's fine." Nua answered, "What happens when the escort wins?"

"...What do you mean, It's fine?!" Sobella exclaimed, leaning back as if she could not understand what she was seeing seated in front of her.

“What I said. You hid something from me, but confessed so I could find safety, you confessed even though you’re frightened. You confessed even though you’d have to go on alone. From where I’m sitting, that is true courage. If you’d been a warrior, you’d have been a great one. So…” Nua turned her body halfway around and turned her head further to lock eyes with Sobella, “...so it is my honor to escort someone like you to her final end. It is a privilege.”

Sobella embraced Nua as tightly as she could as the words of the deadly assassin cut into her heart and her escort’s glowing golden eyes radiated unshaking strength. “I wish we could have known one another for longer, we should have had good times, happiness, we could have shared drinks and laughter… if only this hadn’t happened. But it does comfort me to know that, in dying this way, I’m protecting not just a city, but my friends.”

“When I go back, I will tell the people that if a common whore can find uncommon courage, anyone can. Whatever your life, this is your legacy, Sobella. Live up to it for the rest of our trip. Promise me that you will do that much, and I grant you my forgiveness.” Nua said with quiet calm as Sobella lost herself and squeezed the escort as tightly as she could.

She clearly wanted to speak, wanted to say more, but Nua began to turn away, “How about I sing something? Something cheerful, and we can sing it together. Forget the Tlalmok and everything else, if only for a little while before we reach the next point in a few days?” Nua asked, and Sobella wiped her snotty nose and tearful face before nodding rapidly.

“I’d like that.” Sobella said, just before Nua began to sing, easing a dread for the life of her escort that the sacrifice could not shake.