As the blood dripped from one wrist he switched paws and did the same to the other then laid down and stared blindly across the room. In his mind's eye he pictured his own room and as a coldness flowed through his body as his life's blood flowed out, his last thought was the hope the SWAT Kats would protect his city.
He didn't know how much time had passed but found himself blinking aware once more and staring up at the angry and distressed face of Gutaire. Memory returned with a crash. Sitting up suddenly, he looked down at his wrists.
He stared stupidly at the healed wounds, no trace of the slices he'd made were there at all, only the blood was left behind to show he'd slit them at all. The bedding was soaked red and a pool of congealing blood covered the floor. He jerked his attention back to the mouse, shocked disbelief on his face.
"You are a warrior!" Gutaire hissed in outrage. "I never would have left you to wake on your own if I thought you would be capable of doing something like this. It's scandalous! Get up from there, you are already late for your riding lessons. The King will be most displeased," he snapped, angrily as he turned away and made a gesture that made the blood vanish as if it had never been.
Feral, however, didn't hear much of what the mouse was ranting on about, too stunned at still being alive. No one who had lost that much blood could have survived...so how had he and where were his wounds?
"But...I was dead..." he finally managed to whisper, voice dazed and confused...too much was happening too fast.
"No you were not! Though you were certainly close to it. If you had been dead you still would be. Our magic can save anyone on the brink but not after," Gutaire explained, annoyed. "If I were you, I wouldn't try that again or the King will make you wish you were truly dead while never allowing you to do so. Now get moving! I don't wish to be punished for you being late to your lessons."
Pulling the bedding off Feral, Gutaire then tossed some clothing down. "Put those on and hurry up about it!"
Laying there was a jerkin made of soft cloth and suede-like pants. The mouse dropped a pair of soft boots to go with the clothes on the floor then stood with arms crossed over his chest waiting for Feral to get a move on.
Still in a daze, the dark tom crawled off the bed and struggled to dress quickly. When he was finished, Gutaire gestured and the vambraces, moonstone necklace, and circlet of metal around his forehead, reappeared. After a quick trip to the privy, he was being shoved out the door of the King's room.
Still badly shaken, he was hustled downstairs and through another corridor to a heavy oaken door that was already standing open. Through it, he could see a courtyard with people going about their business.
A pair of strange looking beasts were being held by a creature that resembled a wolf who was dressed in similar attire as Feral. The beasts had short but wicked horns, leathery tails, scaly bodies, and slit pupiled eyes. When they opened their mouths to bawl a complaint, it was full of sharp teeth. He shuddered. They looked like a horse crossed with a crocodile.
Gutaire shoved him none to gently toward the creatures. The wolf bowed its head respectfully to the mouse.
"This is Toulare, he will be giving you lessons on how to ride the Repnorses." With the introduction over, he turned and left Feral staring warily at the strange creatures.
"Shall we begin, sir. We are late getting started." Toulare addressed him, his voice deep and gravely.
Feral finally noticed the saddles on the things and realized they were serious about him riding them. He grimaced but stepped up carefully and stood next to Toulare, listening closely as the wolf instructed him on how to mount and control the Repnorse.
He was very dubious about the creatures but since he wasn't being given a choice, he went to its side and mounted. He was immediately surprised that he was no longer sore. Apparently, when Gutaire saved his life, he also healed any sign of his rape.
Again, too much was happening to him with no opportunity to try and adjust. He was left frustrated and afraid but he shoved that aside and focused on what was required of him at this moment, hopefully later he would have a few moments to himself.
Focusing his attention on his mount, he was glad he'd ridden horses when he was younger so he didn't make a complete ass of himself as he got used to sitting on the odd animal. Unlike a horse, the Repnorse was more streamlined and lower to the ground. When they moved out the gate that led over a drawbridge to a huge meadow, he found the animal's gait to be smooth and undulating, which felt truly odd.
Toulare had him ride around to get familiar with the beast. He corrected Feral's hold on the reins and how to hold his seat properly but other than that, he was pleased the King's consort was a fast learner and apparently used to riding animals. It made his job less onerous and time consuming as had happened with the first consort.
When he felt Feral had the mechanics down, he made him go to a gallop. Here is where the Repnorse showed its stuff and just how very unlike a horse they were. They glided along at a fast, ground eating pace. It didn't feel like their hooves touched the ground at all, the ride was that smooth.
Feral tried to look around as he was riding. At the edge of the meadow was a towering forest. He'd never seen trees that tall or thick before. It was literally dark under it despite the bright sun shining.
As they came close, Toulare warned him, "never go into the woods alone. Strange and dangerous creatures inhabit it and are quick to take the unwary. They don't like magic so a group of three or more people are far safer than a single person who would be dead before they got more than a few paces in."
"Since I don't possess magical abilities of my own, I'll never go near them," Feral grunted, easing his mount back toward the pasture area.
Toulare directed his mount to follow while he eyed Feral rather oddly. It took Feral a few minutes to realize the wolf was confused by something.
"What's wrong?"
"Your pardon, sir. I thought you had been told. You were capable of small amounts of magic the moment you appeared on our world and the longer you are here, the stronger it will become," Toulare politely explained.
Feral gaped at him. "I can do magic! But I don't know the first thing about how to use it!"
"Be not concerned, sir. All are given training and I am certain Gutaire has scheduled it to happen soon for you," the wolf assured him quickly.
'Wonderful, something else I have to learn,' Feral muttered bitterly to himself.
They spent another hour on the riding lesson then Toulare returned him to the courtyard where Gutaire met him and he was whisked off to the baths. A little later, clean and wearing his barely there costume once more, Gutaire took him to yet another area of the castle. He wished they would just give him a tour so he could find his own way around and shoes so he wouldn't chill his feet so much on these cold floors.
He was ushered into a comfortable study and a creature that looked something like an old badger stood up from behind a heavily littered desk.
"This is Aumire, he will be your instructor on the history of our world, its politics, and other various subjects the King wishes you to know." He told Feral then turned to the badger. "Aumire this is Feral, the King's new consort you were expecting. I will return for him in two hours."
The creature nodded and gestured for Feral to have a seat in one of the heavily padded chairs in front of his heavy wooden desk made of some kind of dark wood.
Feral sat reluctantly and eyed Aumire warily.
"First of all, sir, I want you to cast out any thought of trying to escape from here. As I give you an overview of the state of affairs for this world, you will learn escape is impossible," Aumire stated flatly giving Feral an uncompromising look.
Feral returned a stubborn one of his own but wisely held his tongue.
"This world is called Galanon. There are ten kingdoms in existence here. You are in one of the largest and most powerful. Next to this one is Maontzoar which is ruled by King Warkil, the second most powerful leader on the planet. The two kings have an uneasy alliance that has lasted some 12,000 years since they came to power and will continue to do so as long as neither one encroaches on the others lands and chattels." Aumire intoned, warming up to his subject.
Feral gaped, 'I couldn't have heard that right!' "You mean the two kingdoms have been at peace for that long." He politely stated, hesitantly.
Giving Feral a frosty look, Aumire reiterated, "both Warkil and Bloodnor have ruled their kingdoms for more than 12,000 years."
"Impossible..." Feral blurted, plainly disbelieving such a thing.
"No one dies here, sir. The only time death occurs is if someone is alone when they have been badly injured, poisoned, fallen desperately ill or are so very old they simply fade away. There are also the dangers one encounters in the woods if they are foolish enough to go there alone. Except for the mentally infirmed, none travel alone anywhere on Galanon." He cut Feral off, baring his teeth in grim amusement at the consort's stunned expression.
Feral subsided into shocked silence.
"Now, to continue ... before peace was mandated, the world fought kingdom against kingdom and person against person, for 10,000 years before it finally dawned on everyone that the number of young being born had fallen dramatically. This brought a temporary cease fire while the healers among us did a census to determine if what was perceived was truly happening. The research discovered we would become extinct as a race in less than a hundred years if we didn't stop fighting." He paused and drank from a mug sitting between two stacks of books.
"This information effectively halted the killing. King Bloodnor and Warkil sent word to all the other minor kingdoms telling them what they had learned and demanded the fighting end now for the sake of all. It took another two years but finally Galanon was at peace and has been ever since. The law that's been in place since then is no life is to be wasted. A King or lord may punish a slave or subject but never kill. Which means, one could be punished to death's door but never past it. However, stopping the wars didn't halt the downward spiral of births. Very soon, it was realized, no new births were occurring at all and soon the population became static with the last birth occurring more than three thousand years ago." Aumire paused a moment to sigh, a look of sadness in his eyes.
"In hopes of preventing our extinction, the two most powerful kings began searching other worlds for fresh blood to mix with ours. For about a hundred years that seemed to work and more children were being born but that too ceased as it was learned the newcomers could only produce one to three children before becoming sterile. Our healers could not determine why this was happening though there were theories that our own magic could be at fault but no one has been able to prove it. It doesn't matter really as the kings decided to halt their attempts."
Fascinated, Feral interrupted Aumire to ask, "... but why stop? At least you were breeding."
"Because adding more sterile and immortal people to our population was self-defeating and we would still be extinct in the end so the practice was stopped. You are the first newcomer in a thousand years."
Feral sat back and absorbed this silently. Finally he said, slowly, "so despite my presence, I too will eventually become sterile and you'll be back to waiting for death to take you all. That just seems so stupid to me."
Aumire gave him a sharp look. "Do not question King Bloodnor's reason for acquiring you, that leads to pain you will never forget and with a long life to look forward to believe me that is something you want to avoid."
Pursing his lips tightly, Feral heard fear in Aumire's voice and wisely kept silent. The king obviously used pain a lot to keep his subjects in line...he really wasn't surprised...Bloodnor struck him as a cruel and despotic ruler.
"Now enough of that subject. We still have many thousands of years left before extinction happens so let's move on to other subjects. Oh, and before I forget, do not entertain any thought of trying to leave here for King Warkil's kingdom. Though the two kings are evenly matched in power..."
Feral's heart lifted briefly at that statement. 'If he's as powerful as Bloodnor perhaps he'll send me home just to spite his rival..." he thought excitedly but his hopes were dashed with Aumaire's next words.
"... Warkil is ruthless, unpredictable, dangerous, and extremely cruel. His people flee his kingdom for ours due to his treatment of them. King Bloodnor is also ruthless but always fair. He treats his people with an even paw and is never deliberately cruel. He is not loved but he is respected because you know where you stand with him." Aumaire said flatly then handed Feral a pair of thick books. "Here are some books I want you to read that will explain more of our history and the various kingdoms. Now the next subject is on the political structure of the government here..."
Feral sighed inwardly in defeat and tried to listen closely to Aumire's lectures even though he was growing very tired and a bit bored. He was glad when Gutaire returned to collect him an hour later.
He found it was lunch time and he was very hungry having not been given breakfast. After a brief stop in his new rooms to leave the books Aumire had given him, Gutaire took him to the throne room where long trestle tables had been set out and food was being served to the upper aristocracy.
The King sat at a high table with several well dressed people that Feral remembered seeing when he had arrived yesterday. A seat beside Bloodnor was vacant and Feral discovered this was his.
Gutaire escorted him to this seat, pulled his chair out for him to sit then pushed it in. Bloodnor smiled at him before turning to continue his conversation with a boar like person next to him. Feral looked away and down at his plate that a servant was filling with food. His appetite nearly vanished being forced to sit next to his rapist but he couldn't allow his strength to weaken so he forced himself to eat.
He nearly choked, moments later, when he felt a huge paw caress his bare thigh. He didn't dare turn his head but looked out of the corner of his eye and noted King Bloodnor was not even looking at him. He was still speaking to the Boar but his paw was definitely feeling him up and down his inner thigh and setting off sparks of heat through his body.
Horror held him frozen, unable to breathe. He thought the elixir had worn off this morning and yet, here was his body getting heated again at the King's caressing touch.
'Oh God! I'm going to go mad here!' He moaned as he struggled to calm himself and ignore what the king was doing. To distract himself, he reached for his goblet and downed most of it's contents in one gulp. The fiery liquid, that was most definitely not wine, set him to coughing violently. The King turned back to him in mild amusement and pounded his back solicitously.
"That is a most excellent mead, my consort, but to the uninitiated it can be quite potent. Next time, sip it first." He admonished Feral. Light laughter followed the King's comment.
Feral gasped and choked a moment longer before he could catch his breathe. A servant politely handed him a glass of water which he drank gratefully.
'Kat's Alive! I can still feel the fire in my throat down to my stomach! I definitely don't want to be drinking much of that.'
To his consternation, the King once more began caressing his thigh casually. Feral's appetite fled completely and what he had eaten sat in his stomach like lead. He tried to ignore it but the heated sensation began again and he found himself close to whimpering with need as his clitoris swelled and wetted with unwilling desire.
He bit his cheek as the tension rose higher and higher within his body until he simply couldn't take it anymore and jumped abruptly to his feet, fleeing through the archway he'd come through only a short time ago.
His chair fell backward with a loud crash as he raced away, managing to reach the opening before his body froze in mid run. Snapping what sense he had left, he screamed in helpless fury but no sound escaped his lips. Eyes froze wide, anguish and horror reflected in them, he continued to scream in his head..
The King was furious. His consort's behavior was unforgivable. Lunging up from his seat, he stormed to his consort's side, stepping in front of the frozen tom. What he saw made his eyes widen in surprise as he saw the state Feral was in. This had the effect of cooling his anger momentarily. Frowning, he made a slight gesture and received a full voiced scream in his face. Startled he shut Feral's voice off again and stared at his consort in consternation.
"Gutaire!" He roared.
"Yes, my lord!" Gutaire said breathlessly as he raced up to stand next to his king.
"Explain this," Bloodnor demanded pointing to his consort's face.
"Sir?" Gutaire squeaked in confusion before staring into Feral's face. Groaning inwardly, his heart tightened at the look of sheer terror on the tom's face. Swallowing hard he prepared to tell the king news he most definitely wasn't going to like.
When Feral had attempted suicide that morning, he had serious concerns about the creature's mental state. He really should have expected this to happen but somehow had convinced himself that things would be alright...how wrong he was.
"My deepest apologies, my lord. I underestimated your consort's ability to accept his new station in life and how fiercely he would fight being bonded or what lengths he would go to escape it."
"He is a warrior. Nothing he's encountered so far should have caused this breakdown."
"All I know, sir, is he's never been taken before and didn't handle the situation at all well so when you left him this morning, he attempted suicide to escape what he perceived as a no win situation. I healed him and hoped it was a temporary aberration but apparently his inability to accept your attentions just now has pushed him too far." Gutaire twisted his paws together in nervous tension as he waited to see what the king would do now.
Fury suffused the King's face as he gestured and Gutaire found himself being flung the length of the hall to hit the far rock wall. He felt bones break when he smashed against the stones. Agonizing pain filled him as his body slide limply to the floor. Laying there in a broken heap, trying desperately to breathe, he struggled not to scream which would only infuriate his liege even more.
The room went deathly still. No one wanted to give the furious King another target for his ire. All eyes turned to their food before them, none daring to look over at the poor mouse moaning across the room nor the crazed feline frozen like a macabre statute before the king.
Chest heaving with anger, King Bloodnor said nothing for several long minutes as he stared at his consort's face again. Finally, he sighed and relaxed, letting his anger go as he flicked his fingers and sent Feral away. With the vanquishing of his consort from the hall, he turned to his guests who looked up attentively but careful to say nothing.
"I fear my consort needs a little extra attention from me right now. Please continue enjoying your meal and someone heal Gutaire. I will see you all at the evening meal," he said in a surprisingly mild voice before turning away, cape swirling, as he made for his quarters.
His guests began whispering excitedly amongst themselves once they were sure the king was far enough away. While one of the servants quickly healed Gutaire and helped him to his feet, the nobles in the hall debated hotly on what the chances were for the new consort lasting the week with his mind and body intact. Bets on Feral's survival were privately exchanged as they waited for Bloodnor to return.