Part of the War’s End universe. For more War’s End stories please look at:
The Princess and the Rebel (F/M)
The General and the Traitor (F/M, crowd/M)
The King of Traitors (F/M)
Happy reading!
Tammi crashed into the barn, her short blond hair upended and matted with sweat. She spun, but found only hay and a lonely cow that blinked vacantly at her. She rubbed the sweat off her forehead and turned to the barn door. There wasn’t fighting outside. There couldn’t be. If there still was, that made her a deserter. A coward.
But her unit had been annihilated by those rebels. She only just escaped, and her arm was still bleeding where the arrow had grazed her. With a grunt, she widened the rip in her uniform and looked over the wound. Tiny. Thank gods.
She flopped onto a bed of hay and sighed. What was General Cilen thinking? The town was a Cerces stronghold. The charge was doomed from the start.
Cerces had taken some good soldiers out there. Lives were lost. Too many lives. But she watched people defect right in front of her, throwing down their swords and ripping the Astaleze crest off their chests. They were the reason Cerces was getting stronger. They were the true cowards.
Tammi just didn’t want to die surrounded by her fallen unit. She had overpowered the man fighting her and ran through field after field. Every one of them was littered with fallen soldiers and Cerces rebels. But there were far, far more soldiers than rebels lying motionless in the expanses of grass and crops.
The barn had been open. Or, as she glanced at the broken chain hanging from the door, it was open now. At least it was quiet.
She unhooked the saber from her waist and dropped it next to her. The fighting had muddied the blade. Some blood caught the edge, too. But compared to what she had seen on that battlefield, it was nothing.
With a groan, she fell back and closed her eyes.
***
“I don’t know how she got out. Okay, I’m doing it, y’don’t have to yell at me!”
Tammi woke with a jerk, then scrambled under the hayloft as the door swung wide and flooded the barn with light. A boy struggled with the cow, pulling on its bridle as the stubborn creature planted its hooves.
“C’mon, Annie, I have better things to do than fight with you.” His voice cracked.
Tammi raised her eyebrows. The boy was thin, but there was obviously some strength there; one more yank and the cow stumbled forward a few steps.
“There w’go. Good girl.” He tied the cow’s lead to a beam. It was already happily getting into some of the hay that littered the barn. “Now how did y’get out, anyway?”
Tammi froze as he investigated the door’s broken chain. He went rigid, then spun. “Robert? Are y’in here again? Remember what my pa told y’last time. He’s gonna—” He stopped dead, staring at the pile of hay Tammi had made a bed out of. “Aw, shit…”
Tammi reached for her saber, but it was gone. Forgotten.
The kid must’ve found it.
He turned, ice blue eyes narrowed as he searched the barn. “I know you’re here. They’re looking for people, y’know. One of them just stopped by. All I have’te do is tell—”
Tammi jumped to her feet and pulled the throwing knife from her boot. She sent it sailing past the boy’s head, inches from his face. He squealed and dropped to his knees.
“There’s more where that came from,” she fibbed, wading through the hay to collect her saber. She drew it with a hiss of steel on leather, then hesitated.
The boy was just of age, speaking generously, and bore wild black hair he’d obviously cut himself. He peeked through his fingers, then pulled a flash of metal from his belt.
Tammi, deadpan, batted away the dagger. He lost his grip on the weapon, and both of them watched as it bounced away and slid into yet another pile of hay. The cow stepped over it, chewing idly and flicking its tail.
The boy risked meeting Tammi’s deep brown eyes. “Y-you’re an Astaleze soldier.”
She tapped the royal crest stitched over her heart. “That is what the uniform means.”
He glanced at Tammi’s saber, then to where his dagger had disappeared. “Please don’t hurt me.”
She couldn’t have if she tried. Unarmed and untrained; there was no worth to him as an enemy, much less any honor in taking his life. Still, she planted a hand on her hip and gestured with the sword. “I won’t if you don’t make me. Now get up, and if you try something stupid like that again I’ll run you through.”
His legs almost gave out, but he struggled to his feet anyways. He eyed Tammi’s sword, his tanned skin pale as paper. “I-I—”
“Use sentences, kid.”
“I-I’m of age. I’ve been of age for almost a year.” He managed a scowl, but couldn’t hide the way his voice broke. “You don’t look of age, either.”
“I enrolled young,” she asserted, repeating the vague lie that had gotten her to where she was. She had enrolled three years ago, but had only turned of age a few weeks before. It wasn’t her age that had made her commander of a battalion, though. She had earned that herself. “Where are we?”
“Usstor, of Cerces.” The boy wiped his cheeks dry. “Thirty miles south of Astal’s capital.”
Thirty miles? She had known the rebels were advancing, but thirty miles? “Usstor is a borough of Astal, not Cerces.”
“Not anymore. The army burned the Astaleze flag in the town square. The ceremony was a few hours ago.”
“You— no. This is a borough of Astal.” She brought her sword to his neck. “You’re just as much a traitor as those gods-damned rebels.”
“I meant what I said.” He set his jaw, though he shook in her grip. “You’re in Cerces, bitch. Go ahead. Kill me. You won’t get far.”
“This bitch isn’t running anywhere. I don’t care if I have to make my last stand in a gods-damned barn.”
He faltered. “You’re not… you’re not gonna run?”
“No. Because you’re not going to do anything, are you?” Tammi smiled.
“Yeah, I am!” His voice broke again. “I’m gonna bring every Cerces warrior I can find here!”
“I should kill you,” she said, more to herself than him. The boy shook his head, and a tear cut through the dust on his face. She grumbled, then spun, slammed him against the nearest support beam, and drove the point of her sword through his shirt collar and deep into the wood behind him.
He whimpered and pulled away from the blade so close to his throat, but found himself pinned by his shirt. His legs gave out and he choked, his shirt tightening around his neck.
“Oh, c’mon.” Tammi let go of the blade and drew the boy up by his underarms, only for him to shriek, jerk out of her grasp, and collapse, his shirt once again becoming a noose. “What the fuck was that?” She grabbed his chin and forced him up. “If you don’t think I’ll kill you, I swear on my life, I—” She paused. “Holy shit. Are you ticklish?”
“No,” he mumbled, “no, I’m nahahat!”
Tammi poked the little pudge on his stomach again. “I think you are.”
He shook his head again, then grimaced as his neck scraped the sword. Tammi pulled a face as a drop of red beaded from the graze. She turned and found a loop of rope hanging on the wall. With a grin, she unfurled the rope and let it fall to the dust at her feet. She swept up the boy’s wrists, and in just a moment had them tied in front of him. He grunted, fumbling with the new bonds, and didn’t notice Tammi pulling the sword free of the beam and out of his shirt. She tossed her blade aside and instead shoved him over.
“Will you look at that?” She pressed a hand to her chin. “Farm boy’s trussed up like a hog ready for market.”
“Let me go!” He wiggled and managed to roll onto his side. “Where the hell did y’learn this, anyway?”
“I wasn’t born a soldier.” She stepped to the barn doors to look over the fields outside.
“I wasn’t lying. The army’s goin’ door to door, looking for people just like you.” He spat as he struggled to his feet. “You can’t run, and if I don’t go back, my pa will come and kill you.”
“I’m not afraid of your pa.” What she was afraid of was the Cerces militia. And if people went missing after visiting the barn, the rebels would investigate.
That left the kid. She could not have him tell anyone she was here, and killing him was not an option.
As if it had ever been an option.
She spun on her heel and saluted, pounding a fist to her chest. “I’m Commander of Adeign’s Third Battalion.” She took measured steps toward the boy, who staggered back and fell on his rear with a grunt. “You may refer to me as sir or Captain.”
“Yeah, when hell freezes over.” He scowled as Tammi checked the knots binding his wrists. “Let me go, you crazy bitch.”
“As soon as we get one thing clear.” She looked up and found exactly what she was searching for: a pulley hanging from the rafters, with a rope already strung through it. The boy had already scrambled to his hands and knees, but she kicked him over and easily strung the rope holding his wrists through the rope dangling from the ceiling. He yelped at this new development and nipped at her scarred fingers, but she slapped him, leaving a red mark on his cheek that was already fading. He froze, and Tammi grabbed the other end of the rope. The boy was definitely heavier than her, but she had carried wounded comrades twice her size out of battle. With a grunt, she hauled him upright by his wrists, then until he strained to touch the ground.
“What the fuck— gah!” He snapped out of his daze to find himself swinging off the floorboards by his wrists. He cursed once more, then Tammi stepped back, stunned, as he folded in two to catch the rope between his boots. He tried to reach the knots holding up the pulley, then the knots holding his wrists, but found no luck and collapsed once more, panting.
Tammi approached him, and had to dodge a wild kick. She knocked aside his second attack and reached for his face. He flinched, but she simply wiped the sweat off his forehead. He growled, the ice in his eyes growing sharper, but Tammi only frowned.
“How the hell did you do that?” As if she didn’t know. She’d watched him move a cow with his bare hands.
He spat in her eyes. “I don’t spend all day planning the best way to destroy Cerces.”
“Understand this: I’m one of the best swordstresses in Astal. I’ve proved myself on the battlefield plenty of times.”
“I’m not going to help a murderer like you if you’re gonna fight us or kill my family.”
“I am a soldier, not a murderer. Don’t question me. I can make you help me.”
“Bullshit,” he retorted. “No, no don’t touch mehehehe!”
“Stop me, then.”
“I… I will!” He lashed out and once again Tammi narrowly dodged his kick. With a grumble, she snatched up another length of rope, tied a knot, and easily lassoed his foot when he kicked again. He realized his new predicament with a curse, and Tammi caught his other ankle in the loop. He squirmed, but she robbed the last of his movement, tying his feet to the same pillar she had slammed him against.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “My shoulders…”
Tammi bit her lip, searching the barn for something to take the weight off his arms. She found a small crate and shoved it under his knees, with an old blanket cushioning the rotting wood. He was bound firmly to the wood post, the soles of his worn boots wiggling on either side of it.
The boy sighed, then flinched as Tammi stepped behind him. “What are y’gonna do to me?”
“Not much, if you help me get food. We’ll have to talk for a bit, otherwise.”
“Of course I won’t help you! You’re the enemy! What kind of talkin’— nohoho!”
She pinched his hips again. “What was that?”
“I… won’t… help you.”
“You’re already tired, kid. I’ll let you go if you get me some food.”
“I won’t.”
“Guess we’ll have to keep talking, then.” She stepped around him and pulled his patchwork shirt over his head. He cursed as the fabric covered his eyes, then jumped when she prodded his toned stomach.
“STAHAP touchihin’ mehehe!”
“Will you bring me food?”
“Nohoho!”
“Guess I’ll keep going, then.” She couldn’t help but laugh to herself. He twisted uselessly under her fingernails, sweat dripping down his chest. She stepped behind him once more, and he squealed as she yanked off his boots.
“No, no. Please stop. Don’t—”
“Don’t what?” She set a hand on his sole and he jumped. “Why shouldn’t I tickle these next?”
“Because I… I can’t—”
“Will you bring me food?”
“I can’t! We can’t afford it!”
She stopped for a second, one hand drifting to the heavy pouch on her belt that held her salary from the past month. It wasn’t like she couldn’t pay for the meals, she just couldn’t be seen in his town’s market.
She turned back to the boy, who hung his head. She pulled his shirt down to find his face red and tears streaming down his cheeks.
He looked up at her. “Well? Kill me already. Go kill my pa too, if you wanna. Even if I could, I will never, ever give you what you want.”
Tammi raised her eyebrows, then rested her hands on the boy’s feet again. He jumped, then his entire frame shook with a sob. She hesitated once more, then raked her nails down his feet. He howled and pulled at his bonds, but got nowhere. Somehow he continued sobbing through his laughter, and she stood, a cold fist closing over her heart.
She stepped back around him, and though his face was red and a mess from his ordeal, there was an obvious lump in his pants. She set a hand on it, and the boy jumped once again. He locked eyes with her and, despite his scowl, nodded his head.
Tammi yanked his pants down to his knees, and the boy’s rigid cock sprang free. She rubbed him with a practiced hand, and within seconds, he arched his back and sprayed white all over a nearby pile of hay.
Tammi’s grin grew malicious, and she brought a hand to the head of his dick, rubbing relentlessly. He shrieked, eyes wide as his sensitive member met her calloused palm.
“Food?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head, tears starting anew. She let go, spun behind him once more, and scratched both of his feet from heel to toe. His scream turned soundless, then the wheezes racking his form slowed to a near stop. She stood, looking over him once more. His eyes had been sealed shut with drying tears, and his body had gone almost entirely limp, save for the sizable thing between his legs. Tammi cocked her head, then sighed and straightened his clothes. Even in his daze, he jerked as she tried to fit his swollen member back into his trousers.
She released his bonds, and caught him by the chest before he collapsed to the floorboards in a heap. Both his wrists and ankles had been rubbed raw by the rope, but she couldn’t help but sneak a tickle in before she slipped his boots back on. He kicked in his sleep.
She smiled, then bundled him up and stepped into the afternoon light outside the barn. She lowered him into a thick patch of wild grass, collected the blanket she’d placed on top of the crate, and draped it over him. He curled up under it with a smile, this one not forced. It was kind of cute.
She paused, reached into the pouch on her belt, and pressed a pair of gold coins into the palm of his hand.
With a sigh, Tammi stepped back inside the barn and kicked aside the crate with a scowl. She could take on maybe three Cerces warriors at once. Maybe. Any more and she was doomed. She couldn’t flee. But… it had been a good run of things in the end. She was a decorated member of the Astaleze army. She was a respected leader. She had always done what she thought was best. Maybe it was better to die a hero than live to see herself become a villain. If Astal was losing, like the boy had said, that time was approaching fast.
As the sunlight died away, she clambered into the barn’s hayloft— like it needed one with all of the fodder scattered below— and burrowed into the hay, hugging her saber to her chest.
***
The barn door creaked open.
Tammi rolled to her knees, her scabbard in one fist. The morning mist crept through the slats of the barn’s walls and clouded her vision, but the figure holding open the door was plenty recognizable.
“Miss? Uh, sir?” The boy stepped inside, juggling a platter and cup. “Are you still here?” He cursed to himself, then set the plate on the floorboards. “I, um, I have your food. Thanks for paying for it.” He looked up, and Tammi could feel his eyes lock on her somehow. He held up a handful of leather belts. “These… these will hurt me less. Thanks for… thanks.” He kicked at the floorboards and stepped outside the barn. “My name is Casper, by the way.”
Casper. Tammi watched him slam the door closed. She jumped down and crept toward the food. Stew, and a cup of froth. She sniffed it, cautious, but couldn’t detect any poison. She swallowed a spoonful of the stew, then shoveled the entire bowl in her mouth. It was so much better than the rations she’d been subsisting on for the past few months. She threw back the mug. Some sort of craftsman beer, and the best drink she’d ever gotten her hands on. All of this, for two gold pieces?
The door was still open a crack, and Tammi craned her neck. The farmhouse was just visible, its light blurred by the mist.
She stepped back and gingerly picked up the braided leather belts he’d left behind.
What now?
The Princess and the Rebel (F/M)
The General and the Traitor (F/M, crowd/M)
The King of Traitors (F/M)
Happy reading!
Tammi crashed into the barn, her short blond hair upended and matted with sweat. She spun, but found only hay and a lonely cow that blinked vacantly at her. She rubbed the sweat off her forehead and turned to the barn door. There wasn’t fighting outside. There couldn’t be. If there still was, that made her a deserter. A coward.
But her unit had been annihilated by those rebels. She only just escaped, and her arm was still bleeding where the arrow had grazed her. With a grunt, she widened the rip in her uniform and looked over the wound. Tiny. Thank gods.
She flopped onto a bed of hay and sighed. What was General Cilen thinking? The town was a Cerces stronghold. The charge was doomed from the start.
Cerces had taken some good soldiers out there. Lives were lost. Too many lives. But she watched people defect right in front of her, throwing down their swords and ripping the Astaleze crest off their chests. They were the reason Cerces was getting stronger. They were the true cowards.
Tammi just didn’t want to die surrounded by her fallen unit. She had overpowered the man fighting her and ran through field after field. Every one of them was littered with fallen soldiers and Cerces rebels. But there were far, far more soldiers than rebels lying motionless in the expanses of grass and crops.
The barn had been open. Or, as she glanced at the broken chain hanging from the door, it was open now. At least it was quiet.
She unhooked the saber from her waist and dropped it next to her. The fighting had muddied the blade. Some blood caught the edge, too. But compared to what she had seen on that battlefield, it was nothing.
With a groan, she fell back and closed her eyes.
***
“I don’t know how she got out. Okay, I’m doing it, y’don’t have to yell at me!”
Tammi woke with a jerk, then scrambled under the hayloft as the door swung wide and flooded the barn with light. A boy struggled with the cow, pulling on its bridle as the stubborn creature planted its hooves.
“C’mon, Annie, I have better things to do than fight with you.” His voice cracked.
Tammi raised her eyebrows. The boy was thin, but there was obviously some strength there; one more yank and the cow stumbled forward a few steps.
“There w’go. Good girl.” He tied the cow’s lead to a beam. It was already happily getting into some of the hay that littered the barn. “Now how did y’get out, anyway?”
Tammi froze as he investigated the door’s broken chain. He went rigid, then spun. “Robert? Are y’in here again? Remember what my pa told y’last time. He’s gonna—” He stopped dead, staring at the pile of hay Tammi had made a bed out of. “Aw, shit…”
Tammi reached for her saber, but it was gone. Forgotten.
The kid must’ve found it.
He turned, ice blue eyes narrowed as he searched the barn. “I know you’re here. They’re looking for people, y’know. One of them just stopped by. All I have’te do is tell—”
Tammi jumped to her feet and pulled the throwing knife from her boot. She sent it sailing past the boy’s head, inches from his face. He squealed and dropped to his knees.
“There’s more where that came from,” she fibbed, wading through the hay to collect her saber. She drew it with a hiss of steel on leather, then hesitated.
The boy was just of age, speaking generously, and bore wild black hair he’d obviously cut himself. He peeked through his fingers, then pulled a flash of metal from his belt.
Tammi, deadpan, batted away the dagger. He lost his grip on the weapon, and both of them watched as it bounced away and slid into yet another pile of hay. The cow stepped over it, chewing idly and flicking its tail.
The boy risked meeting Tammi’s deep brown eyes. “Y-you’re an Astaleze soldier.”
She tapped the royal crest stitched over her heart. “That is what the uniform means.”
He glanced at Tammi’s saber, then to where his dagger had disappeared. “Please don’t hurt me.”
She couldn’t have if she tried. Unarmed and untrained; there was no worth to him as an enemy, much less any honor in taking his life. Still, she planted a hand on her hip and gestured with the sword. “I won’t if you don’t make me. Now get up, and if you try something stupid like that again I’ll run you through.”
His legs almost gave out, but he struggled to his feet anyways. He eyed Tammi’s sword, his tanned skin pale as paper. “I-I—”
“Use sentences, kid.”
“I-I’m of age. I’ve been of age for almost a year.” He managed a scowl, but couldn’t hide the way his voice broke. “You don’t look of age, either.”
“I enrolled young,” she asserted, repeating the vague lie that had gotten her to where she was. She had enrolled three years ago, but had only turned of age a few weeks before. It wasn’t her age that had made her commander of a battalion, though. She had earned that herself. “Where are we?”
“Usstor, of Cerces.” The boy wiped his cheeks dry. “Thirty miles south of Astal’s capital.”
Thirty miles? She had known the rebels were advancing, but thirty miles? “Usstor is a borough of Astal, not Cerces.”
“Not anymore. The army burned the Astaleze flag in the town square. The ceremony was a few hours ago.”
“You— no. This is a borough of Astal.” She brought her sword to his neck. “You’re just as much a traitor as those gods-damned rebels.”
“I meant what I said.” He set his jaw, though he shook in her grip. “You’re in Cerces, bitch. Go ahead. Kill me. You won’t get far.”
“This bitch isn’t running anywhere. I don’t care if I have to make my last stand in a gods-damned barn.”
He faltered. “You’re not… you’re not gonna run?”
“No. Because you’re not going to do anything, are you?” Tammi smiled.
“Yeah, I am!” His voice broke again. “I’m gonna bring every Cerces warrior I can find here!”
“I should kill you,” she said, more to herself than him. The boy shook his head, and a tear cut through the dust on his face. She grumbled, then spun, slammed him against the nearest support beam, and drove the point of her sword through his shirt collar and deep into the wood behind him.
He whimpered and pulled away from the blade so close to his throat, but found himself pinned by his shirt. His legs gave out and he choked, his shirt tightening around his neck.
“Oh, c’mon.” Tammi let go of the blade and drew the boy up by his underarms, only for him to shriek, jerk out of her grasp, and collapse, his shirt once again becoming a noose. “What the fuck was that?” She grabbed his chin and forced him up. “If you don’t think I’ll kill you, I swear on my life, I—” She paused. “Holy shit. Are you ticklish?”
“No,” he mumbled, “no, I’m nahahat!”
Tammi poked the little pudge on his stomach again. “I think you are.”
He shook his head again, then grimaced as his neck scraped the sword. Tammi pulled a face as a drop of red beaded from the graze. She turned and found a loop of rope hanging on the wall. With a grin, she unfurled the rope and let it fall to the dust at her feet. She swept up the boy’s wrists, and in just a moment had them tied in front of him. He grunted, fumbling with the new bonds, and didn’t notice Tammi pulling the sword free of the beam and out of his shirt. She tossed her blade aside and instead shoved him over.
“Will you look at that?” She pressed a hand to her chin. “Farm boy’s trussed up like a hog ready for market.”
“Let me go!” He wiggled and managed to roll onto his side. “Where the hell did y’learn this, anyway?”
“I wasn’t born a soldier.” She stepped to the barn doors to look over the fields outside.
“I wasn’t lying. The army’s goin’ door to door, looking for people just like you.” He spat as he struggled to his feet. “You can’t run, and if I don’t go back, my pa will come and kill you.”
“I’m not afraid of your pa.” What she was afraid of was the Cerces militia. And if people went missing after visiting the barn, the rebels would investigate.
That left the kid. She could not have him tell anyone she was here, and killing him was not an option.
As if it had ever been an option.
She spun on her heel and saluted, pounding a fist to her chest. “I’m Commander of Adeign’s Third Battalion.” She took measured steps toward the boy, who staggered back and fell on his rear with a grunt. “You may refer to me as sir or Captain.”
“Yeah, when hell freezes over.” He scowled as Tammi checked the knots binding his wrists. “Let me go, you crazy bitch.”
“As soon as we get one thing clear.” She looked up and found exactly what she was searching for: a pulley hanging from the rafters, with a rope already strung through it. The boy had already scrambled to his hands and knees, but she kicked him over and easily strung the rope holding his wrists through the rope dangling from the ceiling. He yelped at this new development and nipped at her scarred fingers, but she slapped him, leaving a red mark on his cheek that was already fading. He froze, and Tammi grabbed the other end of the rope. The boy was definitely heavier than her, but she had carried wounded comrades twice her size out of battle. With a grunt, she hauled him upright by his wrists, then until he strained to touch the ground.
“What the fuck— gah!” He snapped out of his daze to find himself swinging off the floorboards by his wrists. He cursed once more, then Tammi stepped back, stunned, as he folded in two to catch the rope between his boots. He tried to reach the knots holding up the pulley, then the knots holding his wrists, but found no luck and collapsed once more, panting.
Tammi approached him, and had to dodge a wild kick. She knocked aside his second attack and reached for his face. He flinched, but she simply wiped the sweat off his forehead. He growled, the ice in his eyes growing sharper, but Tammi only frowned.
“How the hell did you do that?” As if she didn’t know. She’d watched him move a cow with his bare hands.
He spat in her eyes. “I don’t spend all day planning the best way to destroy Cerces.”
“Understand this: I’m one of the best swordstresses in Astal. I’ve proved myself on the battlefield plenty of times.”
“I’m not going to help a murderer like you if you’re gonna fight us or kill my family.”
“I am a soldier, not a murderer. Don’t question me. I can make you help me.”
“Bullshit,” he retorted. “No, no don’t touch mehehehe!”
“Stop me, then.”
“I… I will!” He lashed out and once again Tammi narrowly dodged his kick. With a grumble, she snatched up another length of rope, tied a knot, and easily lassoed his foot when he kicked again. He realized his new predicament with a curse, and Tammi caught his other ankle in the loop. He squirmed, but she robbed the last of his movement, tying his feet to the same pillar she had slammed him against.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “My shoulders…”
Tammi bit her lip, searching the barn for something to take the weight off his arms. She found a small crate and shoved it under his knees, with an old blanket cushioning the rotting wood. He was bound firmly to the wood post, the soles of his worn boots wiggling on either side of it.
The boy sighed, then flinched as Tammi stepped behind him. “What are y’gonna do to me?”
“Not much, if you help me get food. We’ll have to talk for a bit, otherwise.”
“Of course I won’t help you! You’re the enemy! What kind of talkin’— nohoho!”
She pinched his hips again. “What was that?”
“I… won’t… help you.”
“You’re already tired, kid. I’ll let you go if you get me some food.”
“I won’t.”
“Guess we’ll have to keep talking, then.” She stepped around him and pulled his patchwork shirt over his head. He cursed as the fabric covered his eyes, then jumped when she prodded his toned stomach.
“STAHAP touchihin’ mehehe!”
“Will you bring me food?”
“Nohoho!”
“Guess I’ll keep going, then.” She couldn’t help but laugh to herself. He twisted uselessly under her fingernails, sweat dripping down his chest. She stepped behind him once more, and he squealed as she yanked off his boots.
“No, no. Please stop. Don’t—”
“Don’t what?” She set a hand on his sole and he jumped. “Why shouldn’t I tickle these next?”
“Because I… I can’t—”
“Will you bring me food?”
“I can’t! We can’t afford it!”
She stopped for a second, one hand drifting to the heavy pouch on her belt that held her salary from the past month. It wasn’t like she couldn’t pay for the meals, she just couldn’t be seen in his town’s market.
She turned back to the boy, who hung his head. She pulled his shirt down to find his face red and tears streaming down his cheeks.
He looked up at her. “Well? Kill me already. Go kill my pa too, if you wanna. Even if I could, I will never, ever give you what you want.”
Tammi raised her eyebrows, then rested her hands on the boy’s feet again. He jumped, then his entire frame shook with a sob. She hesitated once more, then raked her nails down his feet. He howled and pulled at his bonds, but got nowhere. Somehow he continued sobbing through his laughter, and she stood, a cold fist closing over her heart.
She stepped back around him, and though his face was red and a mess from his ordeal, there was an obvious lump in his pants. She set a hand on it, and the boy jumped once again. He locked eyes with her and, despite his scowl, nodded his head.
Tammi yanked his pants down to his knees, and the boy’s rigid cock sprang free. She rubbed him with a practiced hand, and within seconds, he arched his back and sprayed white all over a nearby pile of hay.
Tammi’s grin grew malicious, and she brought a hand to the head of his dick, rubbing relentlessly. He shrieked, eyes wide as his sensitive member met her calloused palm.
“Food?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head, tears starting anew. She let go, spun behind him once more, and scratched both of his feet from heel to toe. His scream turned soundless, then the wheezes racking his form slowed to a near stop. She stood, looking over him once more. His eyes had been sealed shut with drying tears, and his body had gone almost entirely limp, save for the sizable thing between his legs. Tammi cocked her head, then sighed and straightened his clothes. Even in his daze, he jerked as she tried to fit his swollen member back into his trousers.
She released his bonds, and caught him by the chest before he collapsed to the floorboards in a heap. Both his wrists and ankles had been rubbed raw by the rope, but she couldn’t help but sneak a tickle in before she slipped his boots back on. He kicked in his sleep.
She smiled, then bundled him up and stepped into the afternoon light outside the barn. She lowered him into a thick patch of wild grass, collected the blanket she’d placed on top of the crate, and draped it over him. He curled up under it with a smile, this one not forced. It was kind of cute.
She paused, reached into the pouch on her belt, and pressed a pair of gold coins into the palm of his hand.
With a sigh, Tammi stepped back inside the barn and kicked aside the crate with a scowl. She could take on maybe three Cerces warriors at once. Maybe. Any more and she was doomed. She couldn’t flee. But… it had been a good run of things in the end. She was a decorated member of the Astaleze army. She was a respected leader. She had always done what she thought was best. Maybe it was better to die a hero than live to see herself become a villain. If Astal was losing, like the boy had said, that time was approaching fast.
As the sunlight died away, she clambered into the barn’s hayloft— like it needed one with all of the fodder scattered below— and burrowed into the hay, hugging her saber to her chest.
***
The barn door creaked open.
Tammi rolled to her knees, her scabbard in one fist. The morning mist crept through the slats of the barn’s walls and clouded her vision, but the figure holding open the door was plenty recognizable.
“Miss? Uh, sir?” The boy stepped inside, juggling a platter and cup. “Are you still here?” He cursed to himself, then set the plate on the floorboards. “I, um, I have your food. Thanks for paying for it.” He looked up, and Tammi could feel his eyes lock on her somehow. He held up a handful of leather belts. “These… these will hurt me less. Thanks for… thanks.” He kicked at the floorboards and stepped outside the barn. “My name is Casper, by the way.”
Casper. Tammi watched him slam the door closed. She jumped down and crept toward the food. Stew, and a cup of froth. She sniffed it, cautious, but couldn’t detect any poison. She swallowed a spoonful of the stew, then shoveled the entire bowl in her mouth. It was so much better than the rations she’d been subsisting on for the past few months. She threw back the mug. Some sort of craftsman beer, and the best drink she’d ever gotten her hands on. All of this, for two gold pieces?
The door was still open a crack, and Tammi craned her neck. The farmhouse was just visible, its light blurred by the mist.
She stepped back and gingerly picked up the braided leather belts he’d left behind.
What now?