Private Tales Caged and Waiting

[Marro Thackett]

The last of the rebels hit the sand with a dull, heavy thud. His body slid to a halt at Marro’s feet. The werewolf stood over him, chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths.

Cuts striped his arms. Blood clung to the dark fur along his jaw. The captured rebels had been given simple weapons, but a pitch fork was still effective.

His eyes were calm, the yellow glow receding into a steady human brown as he forced the beast inside him to grow quiet.

He could have run.
He could always run, if he chose to.

That was the trick. They hoped he would run. It would be grand entertainment for the crowd to have the Wardens bring him down.

A ring of armed guards slowly surrounded him. They inched closer, one man shouting for him to kneel.

Marro looked at them for a long moment, then lowered himself to one knee with deliberate ease, hands behind his head. His expression was almost bored.

He had torn through the poor folk sent to fight with brutal efficiency, yet he always allowed himself to be taken.

The first collar clicked shut around his neck, sigils glowing faintly as they bit into his skin. Marro did not flinch. When the chains were thrown across his shoulders, he did not resist.

His attention drifted to the iron gate where the red coated overseers were barking orders, preparing to march him back into the pens beneath the Ashcroft keep.

They believed they had broken him long ago.

They believed he belonged to them.

If they believed that, then they might be surprised enough when he tried to escape that they could make a break for freedom.

Raniya.

He thought of her as the cart was drawn by a horse out into the sand. He did as he was told and allowed himself to be led into the cage.

 

[Raniya]

"He's worth a lot, that mutt." Came the disgruntled mutterings of the Lord Burnish, Riven. He lounged in his chair, one that was painstakingly crafted and carved to resemble the coat of a wolf. He was human, as all lords were in Ashcroft, but Riven Burnish held a pride that she would not mind seeing break apart.

He angled his head towards her, seated behind and slightly to his right of his proud chair. The Lord's eyes were trained on the wolf Thackett. "Most obedient mutt out of all of them... but nothing compares to your pedigree, Saint."

A smile, a gift to her, but her pale eyes watched her lord and master stare after the wolf being ushered towards the cage.

"They say they keep him away from every other wolf in service to his House, just to keep his blood lust up." Entirely false, but Raniya had the luxury of being the favourite most wolf in the Burnish Kennels. "That way he can turn rabid here..."

The silver haired woman sat on a velvet cushion, large enough for her legs to be supported as they tucked in beside her. She rested on one arm, straight and bearing most of her weight as she too turned her gaze onto the wolf stepping back into the cage.

"Ugh. Of course. Some wolves are great entertainment that way... but that does not always work." Riven drawled, as if he knew a thing or two training such wolves when it was all done by men and women employed by his House. "Blood lust is lost on you, my Saint."

Raniya, she wanted to correct him, but that sort of behaviour would only make things go wrong for her. To be his favourite meant she had freedoms on a tight leash, but it was freedom nonetheless. Instead, she bit her lip to refrain from speaking. My name is Rainya. The name of a Queen.

She had been born of two alphas back home. Had been born into being hunted in Vel Cirak, but was taken as a young pup after Cirakians stormed their Dens. The pack dispersed, too panicked to truly take anything of value. Only... her father wasted time trying to find something. A pendant, the moon of dusk. A family heirloom, and he had enough time to close it around her neck before it was all too late.

The same pendant dangle from a chain the Lord Burnish wore. It was now worn as an emblem of owning a wold of a royal line. Something to boast about. House Burnish is in possession of a Wolf Queen.

 

[Marro Thackett]

The cart rattled over uneven stone as it carried Marro back into the shadowed belly of the Ashcroft keep. The iron cage had become a familiar confine around his body.

The silver collar pressed a constant, biting weight into the skin of his throat. Its sigils a dull throb that anchored him firmly in human form. Blood from the fight matted the dark hair along his jaw and streaked the cuts on his arms, but he sat motionless within the chains.

He felt the weight of eyes upon him as he was taken away. The elite made a pretense of hiding these blood sports, but he could only assume people knew.

Through the bars of the cage, Marro caught the glint of pale eyes watching from the stands. Raniya. The silver-haired wolf sat poised beside Lord Burnish.

He felt a mote of regret for what she had seen. She had watched him tear through the rebels without hesitation, just as she had watched him countless times before.

A group stepped into the path of the cart. A wealthy middle aged woman flanked by staff. The Warden guarding his cage stepped between them and Marro.

Marro knew they would have paid for this.

"Look at him!" she said, fanning herself. "He still has blood all over him!"

She started to walk a slow circle around the cage. The Warden flanked her.

"He still isn't for sale?"

"Not my place to say ma'am."

"Could he be made safe?" she asked.

"Ma'am?"

"His claws and teeth. If I were to borrow him."

The Warden sighed.

"No Mutt can ever come close without risk ma'am."

The conversation continued for a little while. She wanted to get close to the killer. There was little Marro could do to deter her interest, as sickening as it was.

Eventually they continued on.

The cart lurched to a halt in the dim undercroft and the guards hauled open the gate with a grinding screech of metal.

Marro rose to his feet with slowly, allowing the chains to drag across the floor. He stepped out of the cage as ordered.

"That was awkward," Marro said to the Warden. "Guess we both had shit jobs today."

"Quiet."

Marro was led on to his room. He had been fighting long enough that he got better than a cage, but not by much.

 

[Raniya]

"Up." Burnish stood and did not spare her a glance as he adjusted the cuffs. "Come along. Time to play politics." He sighed.

Raniya got up, slowly, but she had learned that is how Riven liked her to act. To be the queen she never got to be. Her movements were poised and graceful, and the silver one stood still as she waited for further instruction.

Burnish turned around and gave her a once over. "I want to see him. Come with me. Let them see what it means to have the best of the best of wolf bloodlines."

And she would follow. She had spent years to earn this place and she was not about to let it all fall away because of her own personal feelings. Raniya was useful. Her bloodline had the talent of being harbingers of death, of hearing changes in the ley lines and currents of the world that would determine the decline of one's life. In a place like Ashcroft, one learned how to make peace with death. She spent her first year crying, scared of all the screams she heard before and of the deaths ever happened. It was a madness she had to endure.

She had used to hate Marro for it. After all, he was one of the favourites and deadliest of wolves. He had always been relentless and showed no mercy. His blood lust had the rest of the spectators frothing at the mouth for more.

One night, Raniya had crossed paths with him. She was not allowed to drink, being employed by House Burnish had forbidden such a luxury, but the night she confronted Marro, Raniya held a small hope.

Perhaps he could end my suffering.

"You wish to see the mutt?" Her voice carried the appropriate amount of loathing. Burnish knew she hated coming here, to be surrounded by so much, but this was his way of telling her he did not care about what made her happy.

"Yes." Came the answer, and the Lord Riven Burnish clapped his hands to signal her to follow him down the short flight of stairs and towards where they kept the wolves close to the action without being in the actual arena. "I came into good money, why should I not try to inquire about his price? His master may even try to waste my time and suggest I give a bitch to breed with him... but any mutt can be a brute." His blue eyes pierced into her own pale grey hues. "You are of an old and royal bloodline. If I want legacy, I have to make choices to see it through."

Raniya held her tongue. She could feel his heart quicken in pace. Fuck, he was excited about that idea. Breeding for warriors was actually not so uncommon, but Raniya knew of every wolf in Ashcroft and knew her Lord too well over the years of growing up alongside him. "The brute's name is Thackett. He is obedient, sir, but diligent to a fault. Such cooperation alone would fetch him a higher price..."

They had reached the hall, several feet away from Marro still within his cage. Her eyes narrowed. Let them all think it was out of hate, that she despised the idea of being seen so close to someone not of her calibre of breeding.

She hated seeing him caged. Raniya knew he would listen and obey without one, because that is what they both had to do in order to survive this.

"Stay." Burnish muttered, not paying any attention to her as he walked on ahead. He kept his distance, but as he paced about the cage, Raniya was able to see the disgruntled expression on his face. "Good build on him. Has seen plenty of fights, I see..." The Lord's face did not improve. His scowl deepened, and Raniya was sure he was here to simply be critical.

"What doe he have that the others do not?" Riven asked a handler walking by.