Missy Jane - Born of Stone

Astrid stepped gingerly around the back of Goran’s chair and peeked into Sakhr’s flask. It too was still practically full. As she’d expected, only Haldor and Dunstan had needed more wine. She’d heard of a drinking competition between the two of them that had lasted nine days. The servants still debated over who had won. With one flask to go, she leaned forward and rose up onto her toes to look into Orestes’s, but then it moved up and out of her sight. She gasped and stepped back quickly as he took a deep swallow before slowly lowering the drink from his handsome face. Her eyes on the flask, Astrid didn’t notice him watching her until he spoke.

“I’m still good on wine, little human, but perhaps you would like a cup?”

Astrid felt the blood drain from her face and wondered if she would faint dead on the spot.

Orestes frowned when she took another step back and vigorously shook her head. “Come now. I mean you no harm,” he said. “Are you ill?”

Her heart fairly leapt out of her chest as he rose from his seat and stepped toward her. At barely five-foot-three, she had to crane her neck to face him, but only raised her gaze to his neck. It was thick and strong like the rest of him. He towered at least a foot over her, but his massively broad shoulders seemed to blot out all light from the wall sconces around the room. She panted in fear and fought the urge to beg for mercy.

Orestes took the final step until only a foot span separated them. Behind him, the room had fallen silent while his brothers watched the scene unfold. Astrid didn’t know what she had done wrong and silently cursed her inherent clumsiness.

“Forgive me, my lord,” she whispered.

Orestes reached out and took the cask from her shaking hands. She gasped and released it, throwing her arms over her head for protection.

“What the hell? Orestes, what have you done to the girl?” Steinn called out.

“Nothing, brother. Yet she is quaking in absolute terror. You there. Come here and tell me what is wrong with this woman.”

Astrid stayed shaking against the wall as hurried footsteps echoed in the room. She recognized Simon’s gait and her back burned in expectation.

“Yes, Master Orestes?” Simon asked.

“What’s wrong with this woman?”

There was complete silence for a few seconds before Simon chuckled and grabbed Astrid’s arm. She tensed, but didn’t dare pull away while he dragged her toward the kitchen.

“Nothing the matter, my lord. She’s simply nervous from serving your table these past few nights.”

Astrid dared a glance at Orestes, who was frowning at Simon and shaking his head as if in dispute. Kephas walked over to his brother and clasped his shoulder before responding. “Ah, a new recruit, eh? Best take her into the kitchen and calm her down. Perhaps give her a drop of wine and let her rest. We can wait on the next course.”

Simon nodded, dragged her through the swinging wooden door, and threw her to the floor as soon as they were out of sight of the Masters.

“Stupid, bitch,” he hissed. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

He couldn’t yell for fear the Masters would hear, and Astrid hoped that would also keep him from hitting her. She would be punished but didn’t mind a little delay.

“I’m s-sorry. I’m s-so sorry.”

He reached down and grabbed her by the hair before dragging her across the hard, stone floor. Astrid clasped his wrist in both hands to relieve some of the pressure, but it did no good. He pulled her out the door into a courtyard adjacent to the kitchen where they grew herbs and vegetables. A tree stump for chopping wood sat in the center with an axe imbedded in the top. Even in the dim light of the setting sun, it gleamed as if expecting her blood.

“I’ll teach you to embarrass me like that, you stupid bitch. I knew from the first time I saw you, there would be trouble.”

Tears streamed from Astrid’s eyes and her head pounded in pain. Simon threw her against the stump and pulled a small whip from within his jacket. “Turn around and face the stump. Don’t even think of running or you won’t be welcome back. You know what it’s like out there for a woman alone.”

She did. After years of living on her own in the forest, too young and inexperienced to hunt and too old to earn the pity of strangers, Astrid had nearly starved to death. On one of her rare excursions into a village, she’d been convinced to come to this castle. She still hadn’t decided if it was a better life or not, but she feared going back into the forest alone.

With no thought but survival, she turned and gripped the edges of the stump. Simon pulled apart the ties on the back of her dress and pushed her hair over one shoulder, baring her already scarred skin. She shivered and braced her feet apart, awaiting the inevitable pain. She heard Simon move back and knew he raised his hand to strike. In the next heartbeat, pain lanced across her back and she heard the crack of his whip.

A roar unlike anything she’d ever heard echoed across the courtyard. “What the hell?”

She tensed for the second strike from Simon’s whip but it didn’t come.

“Master Orestes, sir. I have to—”

“Get the fuck away from her before I rip your head from your neck.”

Astrid dared a glance over her shoulder and found not only Master Orestes, but all nine gargoyle brothers glaring at Simon in rage. Simon looked like a ghost, white as a sheet with his mouth gaping. He quickly stepped back from Astrid and let the whip drop to the ground while Orestes moved toward them.

“This is what you do? This is how you run our household staff? With fear and brutality? And humans think we’re the monsters.”

Orestes picked up the whip and slashed at him, hitting him across the chest and causing Simon to cry out. He dropped to the ground, writhing in pain and begging for mercy.

Orestes looked at his brother. “This is why I followed the bastard. I knew he was lying about her being new. She’s served at our table before.”

Astrid stood frozen, watching in horrified fascination when all of the brothers surrounded Simon and began to debate what to do with him. It was obvious they had no clue he’d been beating the staff for years.

“We’ll take care of him and call the rest of the humans together to learn the extent of his abuse, brother. Take the woman upstairs and tend to her wounds.”

Astrid whipped her head around to face Kephas at that statement. Orestes stood beside him, watching her with anger in his eyes.

“Will do.”

As he neared, Astrid momentarily considered running. She didn’t know how long she would last in the forest this time but anything had to be better than facing a Master’s wrath. Then, before she could bolt, he was there. She looked up to meet Orestes’s eyes.

“Come, lady. I’ll help you feel better.”

Before she could say a word, he picked her up and cradled her to his chest like a child. She gasped and threw her arms around his neck in response. His hard chest and large biceps made her feel protected rather than fearful, and she marveled at how gently he held her. He strode through the kitchen, earning curious looks from the other servants, who quickly moved out of his way. Astrid noted his frown when fear shone on their faces.

“Why do all of you fear me when it was a human beating you?” he mumbled.

She heard the anger in his voice but dared to answer anyway. “He said it was at your direction.”

“Mine?”

“A-all of the Masters, sir.”

Dark blue eyes focused on her with such intensity she moved her arms over her head in fear. Orestes immediately stopped walking and tightened his grip.

“I have not, nor will I ever, harm an innocent human, either by my own hand or in my instructions to another. Do you understand?”