A Wager

“Aren’t you going to do something, knight lady?” Osric yells at Lady Veronica.

“I see no problem. The slave is his property. He can do as he pleases,” she replies. “But what is the point...”

Her voice is drowned out by Elayne’s muffled screams. Cinder restrains her, one arm over her mouth, the other around her waist. Elayne thrashes, legs swinging and elbows striking Cinder's sides as she fights to break free. Osric looks back at her, pleading with his eyes for her to calm down.

Beside him, Randolf drops the canvas and grips the hilts at his waist, ready to unsheathe.

Osric throws a hand out. “Violence will only make this worse.”

Randolf relaxes slightly, letting go of the hilt.

The knife burrows deeper into the beastkin woman’s fur. Strands of gray hair drift down as silence swallows the room.

“Hold on — why are you even threatening her? We don’t know who that is!” Osric cuts the silence.

His words only drive Elayne wilder. Osric glances over his shoulder — tears stream down her cheeks, but her eyes burn with rage.

“No — Mama!” Her muffled scream cuts through.

The whole room freezes as she pries Cinder’s paw from her mouth. Her jaw snaps open, fangs about to sink in — but a gut punch from Cinder knocks her unconscious.

“I’m sorry, Master Randolf — Osric. It seemed like the only option,” Cinder says, lifting Elayne onto her back.

Sorry, Elayne. I shouldn’t have tried to feign ignorance. Osric grimly nods at Cinder.

“Don’t play dumb with me, boy. The girl certainly knows who she is,” Broadhold snarks. “What’s painted on that canvas?” He points at the painting on the floor.

“What is this all about?” Lady Veronica interrupts, her eyes bouncing between Osric’s group and the beastkin behind her.

“Nothing, just a little gesture to my blonde-haired pal over there,” Broadhold says.

Osric swallows hard. “How did you know?” he blurts out.

“Hah — I didn’t!” Broadhold chuckles. “That’s the funny thing. It was just a hunch. Her dark hair reminded me of one of my slaves back at my estate in Rosescale. I didn’t even have to question her. When I mentioned a half-beastkin with dark hair like hers, she folded instantly, begging me to bring her to her daughter.” He breaks into a full-blown laugh.

“So... you see your position, boy?”

Osric grits his teeth. I see what he’s playing at. He wants us to admit to the crimes. If we don’t... His eyes flick to the knife.

Should we just confess? Go to jail? What happens to Elayne and Cinder? No. I won’t confess to something I didn’t do. I need to prove it — but how? I feel like I need a damn lawyer!

The blade sinks fully into her fur, no longer visible. Her eyes close, pushing more tears free.

Osric clenches his clammy hands, digging his fingernails into his palms. I need to think of something now! Come on, peanut brain!

Then, it hits him. I got it! He thrusts a hand out, pointing his palm. His cloak whips outward. “Broadhold! Let’s have ourselves a wager,” he proclaims.

Broadhold’s smug face falters. “What are you talking about, boy?”

“What? Are you scared? I thought you were a betting man?” Osric says in a mocking drawl.

Broadhold scowls. “Fine! I’ll at least hear you out.”

“First, call off your slave,” Osric demands.

Broadhold snaps his fingers. The beastkin lowers his blade, letting go of her slave collar.

“Now — if I can convince the knight lady here that we didn’t kill those civilians, you give us Elayne's mother and leave us alone,” Osric explains.

“And if you fail? What do I get?” Broadhold asks.

“You can have... me. Everything I own, or you can have my head. I’ll even wear one of those horrible collars and be your slave.”

“That’s allowed, isn’t it?” Osric asks Lady Veronica.

“Unfortunately, yes. Many idiots have gambled away their lives here,” Lady Veronica admits.

A hand lands on Osric’s shoulder — Randolf, concern etched on his face, stares down at him. The same concern he had shown yesterday, recalling his tale of battle.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Osric understands. I know this is risky — he would probably say reckless. But this was the best I could come up with. He tilts his head up at Randolf, showing the resolve in his eyes. Randolf nods then steps back.

“So, what do you say?” Osric turns back to Broadhold.

“I’ll take the deal... if you also throw in the girl.” He points at Elayne’s head poking over Cinder’s shoulder.

“No! I can’t do that. You’ll just have to settle for me.” Osric drops his head. Of course. He’s got a furry fetish. Humans won't do it for him. But I need to convince him to take the deal...

“You can have me!” Cinder shouts. “If Sir Osric loses the bet, you can have me as well.”

Osric stares at her, stunned. She only gives him an affirming look before handing Elayne off to Randolf and walking toward Broadhold.

“Ah, I see you know the process. I was just going to ask to examine you!” Broadhold says, his grin returning.

He stretches to his tiptoes to peer at her ears. He strips off her maid headdress and throws it to the floor. Fingers slide along her twitching ears. Moving down, he spreads her eyes and lips, checking her pupils and pearly white fangs.

“What white teeth!” Broadhold gleefully exclaims.

He grabs her shoulders, spinning her around.

Yanking at the hair on the back of her neck, “What a beautiful coat!” he states, now spreading her fur, examining the skin underneath.

Shoving his hands under her arms, he wraps them around her.

Cinder holds her arms out for him, staring off in the distance, blankly.

His hands worm across her chest then move downward. Digging into her stomach.

A cold sweat trickles down Osric's forehead. Why is she doing this for me? I barely know her.

I can’t watch this! He closes his eyes.

Broadhold kneels over Elayne. She grunts and groans in pain as his hands snake down her small, body. He watches, powerless. He can’t move. He can’t help her...

“Osric, Osric!”

His eyes snap open. Randolf is shaking him. His head whips around as he remembers. That’s right, I’m in the guardhouse. Cinder is back behind Randolf, holding Elayne.

“Like I was saying... I’ll take your deal, boy. You have a quality slave here. I’d be stupid to pass up on her,” Broadhold says, his eyes gleaming.

Well, she’s not really mine, so — Osric shakes his head. That’s not important right now.

Osric clears his throat, gathering his senses. “Knight lady! I assume you’ll give us a chance to prove our innocence?”

“It is not me you want to convince. You are to be held here until your audience with the lord tomorrow. He will hear your story,” Lady Veronica answers.

Osric waves it off. “Forget that. The bet is made. You’re the leader here, yes? Doesn’t the leader of the city guard care about justice? How will you sleep tonight knowing you are holding an innocent father and his five-year-old son hostage?”

Her gauntlet tightens, armor rattling. “Justice? This city forsook justice long ago.”

Oh, she's upset with the way things are run here as well, I can use that. Osric snaps his fingers.

“How about this — just humor me for the afternoon. In the Kingdom, I’m known as a Sage, said to have limitless knowledge. Let me teach you something about justice. If you don’t like it, you can lock us up after,” Osric suggests.

Veronica exhales, relenting. “Very well.”

“Lady Veronica! These savages are from the Kingdom — you can’t trust him,” one guard off to the right protests.

“I’m not being deceived,” she snaps. “I’m just curious what he has to say about justice. Now get back to patrolling.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the guard replies.

The guard at the door swings it open. The rest of the guards follow, reluctantly filing out.

“Lady Veronica, come with me. We need to pay a visit to the morgue,” Osric says, striding for the doors.