The Vixen Trials

Everything Gone

"You know what I am and it disgusts you"

Dakkoul

He ducked his head and kept walking, hoping the fading light distorted his features enough that his father did not recognise him.

A hand tugged on his cloak. "Dakkoul?" It was said in a higher pitch than his father's usual gruffness, but Dakkoul heard the edge of fear underneath. His father might have come to find him - somehow he had never doubted he would - but that he dreaded to do so confirmed all of Dakkoul's self-loathing.

He pulled himself free with a hiss and propelled his legs forward. He had never planned, never wanted, to talk to his father again. The most he had ever wistfully thought of was seeing him from a distance.

"Dakkoul?" his father asked again, his voice more tremulous, older sounding. He was close enough Dakkoul could smell the familiar scent of his old leather vest.

Dakkoul fought the urge to flick his eyes in his father's direction. Had he aged? He was panting a bit much for what was only a brisk walk.

"Dakkoul," his father commanded. "Stop".

The old obedience to that voice mingled with the slave-requirement to please any free person. Dakkoul halted. His gaze kept on the crowd now pushing past them. Had their odd behavior been noticed? He was no longer supposed to roam the streets. The Prince had promised him death and his fool of a father with his misplaced desire to talk to him could see him executed.

He couldn't restrain his eyes any longer. They darted towards his dad noting the furrowed forehead, the grey streaked through his bushy eyebrows. Then he accidentally met his father's gaze that seemed both caring and fierce. It jolted him into a run.

His father matched his pace although he caught each breath with a gasp.

The Happy Cow loomed out of the darkness, the lanterns hung all over the sign making the crudely painted cow seem sinister somehow, a paint smear at its mouth having the look of blood.

"Son..." his father began.

"Shut up," Dakkoul said in his most vicious voice. Now his voice had christened the air he couldn't hold back his rage and he didn't even try. "It's too late for any of that with me. It's your fault I was enslaved. The Enderaii got me taken in revenge because of what you did. Did you know that?" The tremendous need to hear the truth had loosen his lips.

"No!" His father was shaking his head, his eyes scrunched.

"I might believe that," Dakkoul bit out the words. "But I don't believe you didn't know I'd been sold to the House of Lavilyn."

His father started then lowered his head. It was all Dakkoul needed. He'd known anyway but having it confirmed iced his heart. His own father had abandoned him. His brother had betrayed him. His daughter was safe but he would never talk to her again for her own good. There was nothing left.

"I knew it," Dakkoul said quietly. His father went to speak but he shushed him. Bitterly he added, "There's nothing more to be said. I understand. You know what I am and it disgusts you."

It ripped his heart more than he thought it was possible to see the confirmation his father was trying to suppress.

"Forgive me," his father got out. "I saw...I tried...they said...". He choked to a stop. "I couldn't bear..."

Dakkoul drew a breath and suppressed the wild emotions surging through him. He had to be cold and dead inside until his traitorous brother was given to faithless father. "Come here," he snapped and motioned towards the stench of brewing homemade wine leaking from the door of the alehouse that was cracked open.

His father hung his head and shuffled in. Using him as a shield, Dakkoul scoped out the room, his attention snagging on Malek who was been hustled forward, his arms bound in front of him, his shoulder tightly held by a hulking young man with six notches on both of his ears and a sneering face. Dakkoul heard him say, "Child of shame, move," and snigger while poking Malek.

Relief surged through him. He no longer needed to hold his rage in check. The prince would not care if an Enderaii died. And there were only two of them guarding Malek.

But his father was watching, bewilderment befuddling his every movement as he swung his head from Malek to the men holding him to Dakkoul and back again.

Dakkoul decided to give them one chance for survival. "Give me back my slave you Enderaii scum." He spat on the ground and drew his dagger.

The sneer on the face of the young man holding Malek widened. Malek opened his mouth to speak then snapped it shut, rocking back on his feet as if waiting. His father gasped, actually gasped.

Dakkoul shook off the sound and raised his fist to slam it into the sneerer. His father jumped inbetween. Dakkoul swerved his fist just in time, clipping his father on the head with a secretly satisfying crack.

His father staggered back, giving Dakkoul ample room to hit the sneerer who had only just fumbled his dagger into his hand. He slumped the ground. Without his father lunging into the way, he smacked down the other Enderaii who was in the midst of trying to transform.

"Untie your son," he barked at his father who just blinked his eyes at him.

Sighing he cut loose Malek himself, hissing into his ear, "Enderaii scum. Here's your father. You deserve each other."

Malek's mouth moved, he heard the beginning of some kind of fake apology but he didn't care. He stormed.

The servant waiting in his room told him the news. It would begin in just a few short hours. Did he even care anymore about trying to be free? Better for Tallie he reminded himself as he grimly set about packing his few belongings.

Would it be better for Tallie? What do you think? Thanks for reading so far.