9. Zarek
Zarek
THE TOLL STATION
Toth hasn’t spoken to either one of us since Lilias elbowed him in the gut last night, so I don’t know for sure how close we are to the Vsenrog toll. But everyone in his ragged little party looks significantly more nervous than they did yesterday, which makes me think we’re drawing close.
And Lilias was right. The stallion is a problem.
In the poor, dumb brute’s defense, though, I think Lilias’s mare is actually flirting with him. Or torturing him. She’ll prance in front of him, making him flap his lips like a man drooling after a beautiful woman. This afternoon she actually started to raise her tail at him.
It’s driving the bastard crazy. He’s snorting, yanking at his lead, and making the entire cart he’s tied to rock and creak.
“Get that godsdamned slut of a mare out of here!” Toth screams as the stallion snorts and paws at the dirt.
Lilias guides her mare to the side of the road, although the horse doesn’t seem to want to obey her. I follow them.
“Oh good,” I mutter under my breath. “Toth is speaking to us again.”
Lilias rolls her eyes. Her attention seems to be focused on the mare she’s attempting to ride away from the snorting, bucking stallion behind us, an attempt that’s complicated by her mare raising her tail and stopping every two steps to pee.
The stallion makes a sound like he’s being strangled, and I turn around to see the cart he’s tied to rock precipitously. Toth smacks the stallion on the flank. The stallion doesn’t even seem to notice.
“What do we do here?” I ask Lilias.
She shakes her head. Her braid has come undone, and she looks like she’s mad at everything and everyone.
“We get through the toll,” she mutters through gritted teeth.
I follow her in silence. The road curves, and the forest opens up to reveal a squat, dark building on the other side of a small meadow. Above the building, a massive flag flying the blue and scarlet of Vsenrog sits limp in the afternoon sun.
The stallion whinnies behind us, high-pitched and brokenhearted. Lilias’s mare prances to the side with her tail raised.
“Maybe we shouldn’t stand in the way of true love,” I suggest.
Lilias glares at me. Her mare snorts and presses her ears back, and a man’s voice calls something from down the road. I turn to see two armed guards approaching us from the toll station.
Shit. I pull my horse back, falling in behind the carts. Toth struts out to meet the guards, ignoring the frantic stallion behind him. I watch the men from Vsenrog carefully as they approach.
Oh, godsdamnit.
Yves and Gell. I know both of them.
Worse, they know me. They used to be stationed at the palace, both of these assholes.
We played cards together. Or we used to play cards, until Yves accused me of cheating.
I was cheating, of course, but I didn’t think they were smart enough to notice.
I wonder how badly these assholes fucked up at the palace to get stationed out here, and I pull my cloak up and over my head.
“Dismount for inspection,” Yves barks as he approaches the caravan.
I slide off my horse, and Lilias does the same.
I stare at the ground, watching Yves out of the corner of my eye.
Lilias’s mare raises her tail again. The stallion snorts frantically, his cock huge and heavy between his hind legs.
The guards watch him and snicker. I catch something that sounds like hung like me, and then the guards pull the canvas off the first cart.
That cart obviously has a false bottom. It’s half loaded with broken crates, which is bullshit even if you don’t know anything about trading.
Toth waves his arm over the cart with its broken crate cargo, then shakes Yves’s hand.
He doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s pressing coins into his palm.
Yves shakes his head. Toth does it again. More coins.
“Well, this looks good,” Yves declares.
He moves toward the second cart, the one tethered to the lovesick stallion.
And all the nine hells break loose.
The stallion rears. The rope holding him to the cart snaps. The stallion backs up, snorting and shaking his head like he’s trying to understand what just happened.
And then it hits him. Freedom.
He bolts toward Lilias’s mare. Lilias drops her mare’s lead rope and steps back. The stallion circles the mare, smacking his lips and snorting. The mare raises her tail and lowers her hind end in a way that can only be described as seductive.
“Holy hells, look at the balls on him,” Gell snickers.
“I could fuck your wife with that cock,” Yves replies, punching Gell on the shoulder.
The stallion circles the mare a second time, nipping at her flanks.
And then he’s on her. He jumps on her back, ignoring the saddle she’s still wearing, and begins thrusting desperately against her hind end. The mare stands motionless, looking vaguely bored as the stallion pants and grunts above her.
Moments later, he collapses on top of her, his legs sprawled out to either side, his neck draped over her back.
“That’s it?” Yves snorts, smacking his friend on the arm. “Hells, he’s even faster than you!”
“He’ll have to fuck her again,” Gell replies. “She blinked and missed it!”
Both of the guards start laughing like they’re about to bust a gut.
“That’s my foal!” Toth suddenly screams, waving his hands at Lilias’s mare and the stallion still draped over her back, his sides heaving as he pants for breath. “That’s my stallion, that’s my foal!”
“Fucking gods,” Yves snorts. “He’s not even off her yet.”
“Oh, he’s off,” Gell replies. “He’s definitely off.”
They both explode into laughter again. Most of the smugglers join in this time. Toth stares at us, red-faced and furious.
“That’s my godsdamned foal,” Toth shrieks.
The stallion finally staggers off the mare. He stands on the grass, panting, with his head hanging low. Lilias’s mare twitches her ears.
“We don’t even know if she’s pregnant,” Lilias says briskly. “It usually takes more than one breeding session to impregnate—”
“I don’t think he’s got another session in him,” Gell snaps, and damn near everyone collapses into laughter again.
And, true, the poor stallion does look like he’s about to faint. I’ve never seen a horse look so much like he needs a pipe to smoke and a bottle of wine. Lilias smooths down the front of her shirt and walks over to the guards.
“Is that everything you need from us?” she asks.
The guards are still chuckling.
“That was one fucking show, lady,” Gell says, wiping his eyes.
Lilias stands there, looking like she is not at all amused.
“Yeah, we got everything we need,” Yves finally says.
Lilias makes a sound in the back of her throat, then turns to Toth.
“Then I believe this ends our arrangement,” she says. “Thank you for escorting us to the toll.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Toth growls. “That’s my fucking foal in there.” He turns to the guards. “You all saw it! My stallion, my foal.”
The guards snigger. I grit my teeth and shake my head. I think Yves and Gell will be talking about this little encounter for years, if not decades.
“When you reach Vsenrog,” Lilias says, “look for us two blocks from the palace, in the large white house along Golden Road with roses painted over the door. If my mare is pregnant, we’ll discuss ownership of the foal then.”
Toth grumbles under his breath, but he seems wise enough not to push the issue in front of Vsenrog guards. Not with a woman who just admitted she lives two blocks from the palace.
Lilias adjusts her saddle, which got shoved to the side in the heat of passion, then gets on her mare and trots down the road.
The stallion stares after her with the most brokenhearted expression I’ve ever seen on an animal.
I feel a sudden surge of gratitude for the poor beast. Thanks to his dramatic performance, Yves and Gell didn’t even look at me.
I can’t believe it was that easy to pass through the toll station. I could almost kiss that stupid, horny stallion.
I climb on my gelding, pull my hood low over my face, and trot past the guards. They’re still making dick jokes as I ride out of earshot.
It’s only once we’re both past the toll station and into the woods that I realize the place Lilias just described for Toth is the Golden Rose brothel.