Fresh Meat

"There's a new empress?" Valai blurted out.

The woman nodded grimly, "Empress Toofy is dead. Killed by the forces of Empress Vanhern. The princesses are on the run. There is an order that all nekos have had their citizenship revoked, and can be killed on sight without consequence."

Valai shuddered, "Oh no..."

"Lord Marius disagrees." Riveranda waved a hand, "He won't allow that kind of chaos in his lands. Something the both of us agree on. But that's the political situation you need to be aware of, lamb. The empire... Is on the brink of civil war. And a proponent for the old order... Is interested in you. By name."

"I... I met the travellers last night?" She said hastily, "I didn't know that they had a lord with them! They wanted us to go to the feast today. Some... Soothsayer! It was a soothsayer who knew me, or something! I'm sorry! I didn't believe them, m'lord."

He nodded slowly, "I... See."

"A true soothsayer? That is an important detail." Lady Peip said apprehensively, "There are few who can truly claim to be one. The gods rarely deign to bless someone with the ability to see into the truth of things. I've not heard of any discovered in recent times. Nor any who have the loyalty of a lord."

Riveranda frowned, "Was not Princess Ink a soothsayer?"

"No, m'lord. An expert with magic, and more power than it is right that any individual have, but not a soothsayer." Lady Peip shook her head, "Perhaps Lady Drachne's torug qualifies. But not anyone else that has crossed my notice. But... You cannot successfully lie to a soothsayer. Even if you believe the lie, they will know it to be false."

The lord winced, "Well, fuck."

"A lord with a soothsayer, wishes to meet an abandoned domba, who may have a royal heritage. A lord who may not be on friendly terms with our empress." Lady Peip shook her head.

Valai's stomach turned at the thought, that she might be about to get caught up in preparations for war. A lord consolidating his power.

"I have the measurements." The tailor said stiffly, "I will need at least half an hour to take in one of my finer dresses, m'lord, m'lady. I will match the colours to your own outfits, of course, m'lord, m'lady."

Derby looked outside, and then nodded to himself. He was far more scary to Valai than the nobles that were adopting her into their terrifying lives. She knew that he was looking for an excuse to put his blade into someone, and it may as well be her. Especially her, with their history.

"Lady Peip, perhaps you could take this opportunity to give our uneducated lamb a brush up on things." Riveranda stated, and then without waiting for an answer, he left. The terrifying ram following him like a shadow.

The human woman tsk'd in exasperation, "Gods preserve us. Placing our hopes in a domba."

---

Much like language, all the interwoven threads of secrets and scandals went over Valai's head, but yet it also sunk in, somehow.

All the little factoids drifted by her, as she failed to really pay attention, but at the same time she memorised it all. Smallest to largest, every facet and detail sank into the pudgy thing that Valai called a brain.

Her concern, however, was with Dolly.

The nobles didn't seem to have picked it up that Valai had said she wasn't alone, and they hadn't hinted that she wasn't the only one being prepped to engage with a dangerous political overlord. If Dolly's usual behaviour was anything to go by, then everyone wanted it to stay that way.

Valai really did love her best friend, but the sheepgirl was a total dolt. Cracking the thin ice beneath this unsteady situation was far too easy, to risk dragging the moron in. She'd say something innocent and curious, and before you knew it, there would be swords at everyone's throats.

Derby would be the only one celebrating.

She also had to admit that she was struggling to reconcile the travelling nobodies with the idea of a warlord and his entourage. No soldiers, no amazing guards. No aggressive and haughty people covered in scars or tattoos. Not even the hint of a mage, in last night's group.

She hadn't seen a single thing to suggest that they had either a noble or a soothsayer with them. Just the usual rabble, trying to grift the unwary, whilst providing a little bit if overly expensive entertainment.

The man that she'd met hadn't been any kind of lookout. If he hadn't admitted to being sent by a soothsayer, she just would have seen him as a outsider of some kind, looking to get laid by a local girl.

"The Cult of Ba'al... Do you know it, m'lady?" Valai interrupted Lady Peip.

The woman stared at her, "I beg your pardon?"

"The man last night. He said he was with them, no mention of Lord Oen. They worship the dark gods, don't they?" Valai tried to sound like Dolly. Enthusiastic and curious, instead of terrified out of her wits.

Lady Peip took a very shaky breath, "Green Goddess preserve us. The Cult of Ba'al, lamb, is the official religion of the elfin empire. Since about when Toofy took the throne."

"I don't know much about it, m'lady." Valai shrugged, "Won't that be important? If Lord Oen is a follower?"

The woman gave a sharp laugh, "He is not, lamb. Lord Oen was dedicated to the Green Goddess when he was still a child. She is not even a Betrayer God. Many of the old temples were dedicated to the Leafen Goddess."

Valai shrugged, "Domba worship the Green Goddess, traditionally. I have been taught all about her. I won't be embarrassing you on that front, m'lady. But the man last night really did say that they were all in the Cult of Ba'al. I should learn something, shouldn't I?"

"We do not have the time." Lady Peip closed the topic of conversation, "Now. Who was Lord Oen's first wife?"

The sheepgirl gave up, and answered tiredly. "Lady Cynthia, daughter of Lord Canthus, son of Lord Aspeth. Lady Cynthia was killed in a hunting accident, with Lord Elatham. It's a sensitive topic, and not everyone thinks it was an accident. Lord Sai's execution of Lord Elatham is taken to be a hint. Asking Lord Oen about his past, therefore, is taboo. Also, hunting or eagles, are topics to be avoided, m'lady."

"Very good. So what would you talk about?"

Valai was very tempted to give an offhand answer about how shit her life was turning out. But she liked her hands staying on her arms. "Lord Oen apparently has an interest in local foods, and I cook a lot of things that a human has probably never heard of, let alone tried."

"Are they edible by humans?" Lady Peip asked drily.

The sheepgirl nodded, "Most, yes. Just because I'm not an omnivore doesn't mean I can't cook for one."

"Do. Not. Cook. For. Him." The woman snapped out each word, glaring seriously at her.

Valai wanted to stick her tongue out at the racist bitch. Instead she put on one of Dolly's innocent and surprised faces, "Oh, I wouldn't! Not at a party. But talking about food is something that every traveller does."

"Stop with the games, lamb." Lady Peip said through gritted teeth, "Lord Oen hates exotics more than I do. You useless pieces of shit stick my shoes, dragging a stench through my day. When Empress Toofy took the throne, Lord Oen toured, as he is, now. He was considering war then, as well. That our previous empress was an unkillable whore with the power of a demon was the only thing that stayed his hand. The more you shut up around him, the better. Ask prompting questions. His military successes. His battle scars. His favourite cities to visit. How he chooses to relax upon visitation. Meaningless nothings. Do not ask anything that may lead to inquiry about yourself, your fucking race, or your fucked up past!"

"You know more about my past, than I do." Valai found her mouth moving before she could stop it.

Lady Peip gave a heavy sigh, "Of course I do, lamb. I know more about everyone, than they know themselves. I am not trying to fight you, but save you. Perhaps a peace offering is in order? Dolly is your friend, is she not?"

"Y-yes, m'lady." Valai bleated, surprised by the mention of her friend.

Peip gave a tired smile, "Her father was a fur trader by the name of Phillip de Chatou. He did not return to Dolly's mother, because he was killed by bandits on the road. Lady Drachne disposed of them with prejudice, within a day or two. If she had been quicker, then Dolly would not have been an outsider. Phillip would have stayed. You would have had no friends, lamb. And now the weight of that possible future, is yours. Do you like the knowing?"

Valai didn't agree this was much of a peace offering. The lady was trying to either make her cry, or lash out. Testing her, for the stupid thing that they were making her do, tonight.

"The man last night said Dolly was also meant to be a guest of honour." Valai decided to go on the offensive, "Curious that a trader's orphan is invited, but you don't seem to have been, m'lady. Unless you're accompanying Lord Riveranda?"

"Aston has as little to do with me, as he can, lamb. Unlike you, he has an aversion to antagonising those of the magical persuasion." Lady Peip warned her.

Valai shrugged timidly, "Sorry, m'lady. Domba don't tend to live very long. It can make us a little impulsive, even on our best behaviour."

The lady gave a small smile, "I confess, I do like you, lamb. But try not to poke so much at Lord Oen, hmm? Now, back to the subject at hand. What would Lord Oen's greatest military victory be called?"

---

Valai's brain was pudgy and overtired by the time of the elaborate celebration.

She was too tired to even still try and call it a party, and get one back at Lady Peip. Instead, she was dressed in a brilliant white dress, dotted with shining silver and white stones, and politely standing behind the man who owned her home, and the entire village.

Aston Riveranda wasn't someone that Valai knew much about, at all. He was one of the lesser lords in the empire, and generally seemed to throw in his lot with whatever major lord threatened him most. He also only lived in the village a few months out of the year, leaving things to Peip most of the time.

He had chosen to wear a ceremonial military uniform. A deep black, with golden touches here and there, along with a sword at his hip - which Valai strongly suspected was the entire reason the man had chosen his military uniform. He seemed the kind to punch first, bury second, and ask no questions at all.

Derby stood a half-step behind his lord and master, bristling and glaring. It hurt to see him this way. Back when Dolly and Valai had competed for his attention he'd been... Different.

He hadn't been a sweetheart. He hadn't completed changed.

However, he had gone from the rough and gruff ram who would tell you to buy your own drinks on a date, but would break the teeth of anyone who sneered at you... To someone who could watch a woman get kicked to death without flinching, let alone stepping into help.

His secret hero aspect, the bit that she and Dolly had adored, had gone away to war, but it hadn't come back with him.

Valai didn't want to know what he'd seen out there.

Right as she felt her ball tail fuzzing up in protest against the cold night air, a carriage came into sight. Two black horses lazily trotting down the paved road, and dragging a white carriage behind them.

The man on the reins was dressed in a flamboyant red, to match the red and gold stripes that decorated the vehicle. Proudly proclaiming the uncaring wealth of the owner, in the middle of one of the worst economic times that the empire had seen, thanks to the plague.

Even a daft sheep like herself felt uncomfortable, as Lord Oen approached.

Exactly nothing was feeling like a match for the man that she and Dolly had met last night. He had made her feel extremely uncomfortable, but he hadn't made her think of a single thing ostentatious. His mysterious soothsayer didn't feel like the kind to advertise.

The total lack of Dolly, was also completely weird. How could someone have asked for Valai, but not for the other one?

There was something off, but she just didn't have all the information she needed to make sense of it.

Saving grace, before she imploded with angst, the carriage finished trotting onto the grounds and pulled to a gentle stop in front of them. The body rocked a half fingerspan as it stopped, and everyone in front of the sheep stopped breathing.

The driver swung down, letting her see that there was nothing pointed about his ears. An ordinary human, just like everyone else around these parts. A little tall, and a little cute. Enough she might consider asking him to a bonfire, once they both got off from work.

If she was brave enough to ask anyone out.

The man opened the door of the carriage with a flourishing bow to the person within. As if anyone needed the direction to put all eyes on them.

It took a moment for Valai to realise her mouth was hanging open, and that she was staring at the regal figure inside like the sleepy country sheep that she didn't want to admit that she was.

Her mouth snapped shut, teeth grinding in her embarrassment, even as her eyes were still lost in disbelief. No one had a right to be as cute as the man looking tiredly out from the carriage.

A tiny golden fringe, a heavy beard with streaks of white and black in amongst the blonde. Eyes that didn't so much as glance at any of the others. The brilliantly light blue orbs fixed right on her, with a depth that she had never seen before.

Twin scars cut down his cheeks, like lines of a mole through cornfields, in perfect symmetry. Weapons might have created them, but it was either ritual or torture that lay behind the marks, and she couldn't see the man willingly doing such horror to himself.

"Lord Marius de Oen." Lord Riveranda took a half-step forward, and bowed, "Welcome to -"

The man held up a hand, "I do not have the time. I am not staying. I came only to observe that you truly had Miss Valai in safety. It is absolutely paramount that she remains so. Toofy's wrath will be a dream, if anything untoward happens to that there lamb."

Her eyebrows screwed up, as her brain suddenly felt even more fatigued. Enough that the gorgeous man's words just... Didn't seem to be processing.

Something about him was ridiculously cute, but her stomach was churning and rumbling. Screaming that if she wanted to keep her head, then she needed to turn around and start running.

"The... Domba...?" Riveranda turned and stared at her in confusion.

Shadows from the trees at the edges of the ground seemed to loom up, crossing over and engulfing the nervous sheep. The gentle sway of the gumnuts in the wind feeling irrationally like the threat of a cat o' nine tails, as all eyes fixed on her tiny face.

The blonde in the carriage smirked and drew his hand back through his hair. As he did, it followed and stretched out with his fingers. The blonde turning into a deep and lively green as the lord ran the threads through his hand.

Teeth flashed in the waving sunlight bursting through the trees, showing off a collection of incisors that no human should have. The man's pale blue eyes dropped into a glowing green, and he spoke into her. Each syllable catching her breath and shaking her chest, "Yes, the domba... This one... Worthy of sacrifice."

---

Valai's head jerked upwards as she let out a squealing scream of utter terror.

One hand hit the open book on the table in front of her, the other clutching to her burning chest, nestled between her breasts as her heart hammered away, trying to escape from her tiny mortal form.

Tiny tears ran down the edges of her eyes, halfway down her cheeks, before dripping silently onto the books of pointless politics in front of her. The hereditary hierarchies of the Oen family, along with some of the more important achievements of the human tribe.

She trembled there, staring sightlessly, as the incredible pressure of the figure in her nightmare completely failed to drain away. Something more than just dizziness, something less than passing out, as her heart physically shook and writhed at the images burrowing into her.

With terror came clarity.

Whoever she had met last night, really had not a damn thing to do with this new lord. They were drifters, humans with no governmental allegiances. That she'd muddled the two groups had more to do with coincidental timing than anything else.

Dolly was an unknown, unmentioned, because she wasn't one of Lord Oen's guests of honour. She was a guest of the countryside, and those who found themselves without any kinds of roots. They weren't connected to a man who tried to protect the past, because they didn't much care about time at all.

Valai wasn't about to become some guest of honour for either Oen or Riveranda. For a reason she didn't know or understand, she was a bargaining piece. A little silver coin to be flicked casually onto the table, when opening up a conversation of negotiations.

The sheep's hand balled up into a fist on top of the book, and her eyes darkened. She looked around angrily, and then lowered her other frightened hand.

She stood up as slowly as she could.

This part of the library might seem deserted of people come to gawk at her, but one wrong move would bring guards running. Unfeeling people intent on making the exotic do what they wanted, when they wanted.

She wasn't going to wear their stupid dress, as beautiful as it was.

She wasn't going to be their quiet little talking painting, as nice as it would be to have a real chef cook a meal for her.

She wasn't going to play the attraction of an art piece for a warlord who was looking to remind everyone that they lived or died by his word. A man fighting for a dead woman who had never done much for them. Not this far to the edges of the empire.

Valai put one foot onto a bookcase, using it to ease her up towards the edge of the elevated window. Her fingers dug into the sill, and she dragged herself up to the open shutters. Two quick movements, and she was on the other side, looking out across the rich grasses outside.

She put a hand to her head, and snorted involuntarily, as a wave of fatigue crashed through her. Flashes of half-memories, pieces of her dream, crashed through her. Churning her stomach and making her tongue feel momentarily swollen.

Her balance felt off, and her heart didn't slow, even as the moment vanished. The feelings were the only thing that lingered, as the bewildered domba found herself standing on a tiny ledge, two stories above the ground, with no convenient pile of hay to dive into.

She slid one foot down against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut and hoping she was still balanced. Her toes felt cracks that no human could make use of, and she balanced ever so precariously against them. Controlling her breathing as her hands joined her feet in hunting down the elusive crevasses.

The domba very quietly walked down the side of the manor wall, and finished making up her mind.

If the choice was being a political playing piece, then she was going to run away with the visiting strangers instead. No one was going to keep her behind some asshole's walls.

---

"Evening."

Valai rolled her jaw, looking at the man casually leaning against the fence, with a piece of wheat in his mouth. He was as smiling and bright as he had been last night. "She tell you to expect me?"

"And Sir Derby. He's about five minutes away." The man yawned, as if the violent guardsman was no concern. "Head to the red carriage, she's waiting for you. Dolly's already there, too."

She shook her head at the stupidity of her friend. Valai was only here out of last resort, her friend was here because she wanted to feel like someone important. Exploited by these nutters.

However, Valai didn't doubt that Derby wasn't far behind her, and he'd be anything but happy with his old ex, that he sort of rightly blamed for fooling around with him, without it actually ending up going anywheres.