The kidnappers did their best to keep a low profile. They joined a caravan of several human wagons, one Elder one and a healthy mix of both races' animals. Their victim was bound and gagged in the back, hidden beneath blankets, crates and a myriad of other items. He was still unconscious from the blow to his head with the handle of the buggy whip. Four men sat in the back, two rode behind the wagon and two more sat on the front seat. They had traveled a long way to catch the prince. His father was very insistent that he be found. The grizzled looking watch captain rubbed the fresh scars on the side of his face, more brands to show how many strikes he had committed. He had one left before he was sentenced to death.

When he had returned empty-handed, Lord Fletcher had become enraged. Despite being one of his oldest vassals, no mercy was granted to him. He was held down as a red-hot branding iron was pressed into his face. The old man screamed at the pain, writhing and trying to escape. But there was no escape. He was held down without remorse as a second brand was pressed into his face, creating his third strike. The only thing that kept him alive, was that he knew which way the giant woman that had Eric was headed. But returning empty-handed a second time would have spelled his long, drawn out death. It would not be swift and it would not be painless.

He shuddered at the thought of being put to the boats. Banishing such notions, he glanced over his shoulder to check on his men. One flashed him a thumbs-up to indicate their victim was still asleep. The watch captain almost felt sorry for the boy. The woman Lord Fletcher had picked out for him was all the way down at the Bottomless Lake and was, by all accounts, a screeching hen of an old maid. She was twice Eric's age, allegedly covered in unsightly blemishes and did not take care of her personal hygiene. Lord Fletcher had chosen her because of the vast land in her father's name and the location of her manor. Securing a union with her family would secure trading routes and treaties with any products from the Bottomless Lake. A lucrative deal in the greedy lord's eyes.

The old watch captain sighed as the caravan ground to a halt for the night. He would have liked to continue on, but there was safety in numbers. His wagon looked like nearly every other human wagon in the train. It was a plain wooden box on wheels with a white canvas top curving overhead. Most of the other travelers had the same. A few had wagons that looked more like little homes on wheels. Those people grouped together and cavorted the evening away with loud music, dancing and drinking. The younger of the girls in the group were being taught a dance as some of the older women modeled it. The tassels swayed on their skirts as the bells on their ankles and wrists tinkled and chimed. He sighed and turned away from the entrancing sight. There would be time for that after he got the boy home.

He parked the wagon on the outer edges of camp and tethered the horses nearby just in case. There was no telling what would happen during the night. Years of experience had taught him to always have a quick escape ready.

Tor rode Idiot fast and hard, following the wagon tracks. So far, none had broken from the group. She doubted they would. They were going to Verna and ultimately back to her princeling's home in human country. The caravan they were traveling with was headed to Verna as well. The kidnappers would more than likely stick with it in an attempt to keep a low profile and hide among the numerous travelers. But that wouldn't work. She would turn over every wagon in the camp if she had to. Eric was hers and would come back with her.

In the far distant, she spotted the low, orange glow of a fire. She kicked Idiot's sides and was reward with a buck that nearly unseated her. She cursed, spun him in a circle to cool him off before gigging him. Apparently pressure with her heels, gigging, was acceptable to the stud but an all-out kick to his sides with her boots was not. She would remember that for the future. Right now, though, she had her missing princeling to find. If the information didn't pertain to that, she wasn't really interested. She kissed to the powerful stud and leaned low in the saddle, urging him even faster.

The fire grew bigger and brighter until she was on the outskirts of the camp. She pulled Idiot to a stop, leaning back slightly as his hind legs slid in the dirt, creating furrows in the ground. She swung down and stomped up to the camp, violet eyes burning in the light of the fire.

"Where is my princeling?" she growled. The people in the caravan looked between each other, confused. "He was kidnapped from Crockett, jumped outside the human general store and thrown into the back of a wagon." Her gaze roamed the populace, searching for anyone acting suspiciously. "He belongs to me. I want him back."

A swarthy Elder man stepped forward. He was a head-and-a-half taller than Tor and broad through the chest and shoulders. He stopped and offered his hand in greeting. "I am Siris. I lead this caravan. Tell me what you are looking for and I will do my best to oblige you."

Tor clasped her hand around his upper arm as he did the same to her. They shook briefly before releasing each other. "My human pet was kidnapped from the town. The human who witnessed the kidnapping said they left in a wagon headed this direction. No tracks broke from your caravan. It stands to reason that the thieves are still in your midst."

Siris looked very concerned. "This is a grave issue. Almost all of the humans in the caravan are freemen. Those few that are pets are quite happy with their life. To hear of a kidnapping is disturbing." He turned to the gathered people. "Please, fellow travelers, help us find the human." He looked to Tor and waited for a description.

"He's young, perhaps seventeen or eighteen. Paler skin, dark hair, green eyes I believe," she said. "He would be dressed well. He was from nobility before he became my pet."

A few eyebrows went up as well as the low murmur that ran through the crowd. A human prince? Becoming a pet? It was unheard of. But no one dared to question the imposing young woman. They immediately began searching through the camp, searching for any sign of the described human.

Tor forced herself to not kick over wagons and tear tents from the ground in search of her princeling. Her attention was directed to Siris when he spoke. "If you don't mind my asking, how long have you owned this human?"

"Two months, perhaps a little more," she said. "I caught him fleeing his father's men. He wants no part of his father anymore and fled. I found him. He pledged his life to me in exchange for protection from his father's men."

"I see. And is he happy with you?" the man asked seriously.

"He is well cared for. He eats all he wants. He gets my undivided attention. Mostly." She shrugged. "If I'm not working with the horse, that is. He's got no reason not to be happy."

"Uh-huh. Well, let's hope we find him in good spirits and health," Siris said.

"I have first claim to the kidnappers," she said. "I will deal with them my way."

"That is custom," the big man agreed. He stroked his beard in thought. "You know, there is one wagon that joined us late. They are camped on the far edge of the group." He gestured to one wagon at the end of the crowd. None of the men with it were putting in any effort to look for the missing human. In fact, it looked like they were quietly hitching their team and getting ready to leave.

Tor looked their way and scowled darkly. "Him!" she hissed. "The man with the scars on his face. He's who tried to take my princeling from me the first time." She strode through the camp, making use of the cleared center aisle for Elders walking. Siris walked around the other edge of the camp, intending to keep the humans from fleeing.

Tor reached the group first and promptly grabbed up the man with the scarred face. "You! Where is Eric?" Her eyes were torches, searing him to the core.

He gasped and wheezed, hardly able to breathe with the crushing force around his ribs. He pushed at the fingers as he tried to get air. "Puh-puh-please!" he gasped out. "Air!"

Tor scowled and briefly tightened her grip until he was purple. Only the did she ease the pressure to allow the human to catch his breath. "Where is Eric?" Each word was punctuated with a squeeze, indicating just how serious this was to her.

The old watch captain cried out and quickly blurted his answer. "The wagon! He's in the wagon!"

Tor crouched and ripped off the cover of the wagon. She didn't see her human. Only crates and miscellaneous goods. "If you're lying to me, I'll make your death slow and painful."

"I'm not lying!" he screamed through the pain. "Please! He's there. Beneath the cargo!" He cried out when she squeezed again. He felt something burst inside of him and he screamed anew.

Tor huffed and crouched, carefully moving aside the crates and bags of things. There, beneath it all, was her princeling. He looked up to her with hope and tears shining in his eyes. She shoved the broken man into the side of her bra and carefully scooped up her human. She brushed the softest of kisses over him before she sliced through the ties around his hands and feet with her fingernail. He sat up and undid the gag in his mouth before launching himself against her cheek. She could feel how he trembled and seemed to try and melt into her.

"I've got you," she murmured. "It's alright now. You're fine." She gently stroked his back. "You're not going anywhere."

"Th-thank you," Eric stammered. "I thought they had me for good."

"I'm not letting you out of my sight again," she promised. "You're mine. No one else's."

Eric smiled. By this point, he was starting to figure out the meaning behind Tor's words and actions. He sighed and relaxed in her hand. He was lowered down to settle in the broad expansive of cleavage beneath her shirt. He grinned and settled against her sternum, reveling in the powerful beating of her heart. He was safe and in good hands. He could relax now.

When he was settled, Tor looked to Siris who had the remaining humans struggling in his hands. "Follow me. You can put them in my saddlebag. I'll deal with them soon enough." She turned and strode back through the deathly-quiet camp. She stroked Idiot's shoulder, distracting him as Siris dumped the six remaining kidnappers into one of the saddlebags. "You can take their wagon and team. I don't need it. Do with it what you will."

Siris nodded. "I'm sure there are people in the caravan that would appreciate the fine horses the men had." He paused before continuing. "I don't mean to be rude, but how old are you? You don't seem old enough to travel these roads and towns by yourself."

Tor laughed as she swung into the saddle. "Thank you for the compliment. I'm twenty-six. I've been traveling these roads since I was a filly on my pap's knee. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself out here."

The big man smiled and patted Idiot's rump. "I can see that. You're riding quite the fine stallion. Where did you get him?"

"Caught him wild. Broke him myself," she said. "He's still a work in progress, but he's come a long way." She leaned down and patted the big stud's thick neck.

"Will you be keeping him a stud?" He stepped back and appraised the stocky horse. "His conformation is some of the best I've seen in a wild horse."

"Plan to. I've got other business so I can't linger. But I own part of Bar K Ranch. My brand is the K with the T going through the middle. I'll be branding him once I get him home."

"The Bar K? I've heard of it. I guess it's your brothers, then, that produce the finer riding horses," he mused. "But those do me very little good. I need sturdy ones that can pull a wagon and have sure footing in this terrain. My caravan frequently goes through the mountain passes. Thin-legged horses will break something on the first shale slide. But horses with this fine stallion's confirmation will endure anything the Creator's lands can throw."

Tor nodded. "We're en route to sell at the big fair in Settlement. Come see me then and we can talk about buying and stud fees."

Siris smiled and offered his hand. "I will see you there. Until then, safe travels."

Tor clasped his arm in hers and shook it. "Same to you. Safe travels." She wheeled Idiot around and urged him forward. She rode until the fire was a dim glow in the distance. Only then did she stop. One hand delved into her bra and retrieved the wheezing, groaning watch captain. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him in the light of the moon and stars. "You will pay for trying to steal away my princeling. He belongs to me. Not anyone else. Me and me alone."

The watch captain nodded as he struggled to breathe.

"I would tell you to tell others, but you won't see another day." She ripped off his clothing and dropped them to the ground far below. Without further ado, she popped him into her mouth. She swirled him around, sucking hard on him and lightly chewing on him. When his exhaustion became clear, she tipped her head back and swallowed. She felt him slide down her throat and land in her empty stomach. A little smirk settled on her lips as she leaned back and retrieved two more of the kidnappers. These she didn't even speak to as she tore away their clothes and sucked them in like a pasta noodle. She played with them a little as Idiot walked on, sucking on them, lightly chewing and half-drowning them in her saliva before swallowing.

The next two she stripped and popped into her mouth were toyed with in the same manner. This time, though, she decided to try something a little different. She slid one man's arm between her incisors and bit down hard enough to sever it. She felt the warmth of the blood in her mouth and the metallic taste flow across her tongue. Her face contorted in disgust at the flavor. She quickly swallowed down the two men in her mouth, spat out the severed arm and gagged.

"Ugh. That was disgusting!" She quickly pulled the remaining two from her saddlebag, stripped them and dropped them into her mouth. She sucked hard on them, desperately trying to get rid of the metallic tang of the previous human's blood. After several minutes, the flavor had ebbed and was overshadowed by the flavor of the humans. Satisfied, she swallowed them down. She pulled her canteen out and swallowed down several gulps of water. Several bites of jerky later and she was finally rid of the taste of blood. "Much better," she sighed in relief.

She retrieved Eric from her cleavage and held him up as they rode into town. "Are you alright?" Her eyes scanned his small form that was curled into her hand.

He smiled at her and determined to not mention the bit of blood on her outer lip. "I'm fine. Now. But I was terrified. I thought for sure they were going to haul me back to my father." He shuddered. "Thank you for coming to get me."

Tor ruffled his hair with one finger. "You're my pet. I told you I would take care of you. And I keep my word." She set him down in the saddle and let him relax against her thigh. Idiot walked through the town and back down to the livery stable where his newest mare was. He called to her as they came up on the barn. His ears twitched forward when she called back. He snorted and gave a full-body whinny, shaking his rider slightly with the strength of his call. Once again, the chestnut mare called back to him. He sighed when Tor swung down and led him back to his stall. The mare was back in his sight and he was content for the moment.

When he was settled for the evening, Tor scooped Eric up and held him close as she walked back to the inn. "Come on. I think they still have some supper left. I would like to have an actual filling meal before bed."

Eric nodded up at her. "I'm hungry, too. I haven't eaten since lunch."

"Then we'll have supper," she said as she mounted the steps to the inn.