An offer for Becky

"W-what do you want from us?" Becky persisted, her voice only wavering slightly. She kept her composure as best she could, watching as Robin was lifted from the floor (kicking and struggling), and pushed onto one of the twin benches. Two men held her in place while the third moved around her, securing her arms and legs with leather straps, until she was spread eagle, facing the door. She resisted with a frantic urgency, but it was simply no use. The men ignored her punches and kicks as if she was a slightly colicky baby and soon she was secured, the men stepping back behind Lord Highwater.

"I want," he paused, scowling at Robin, "To be at the rather lovely party I spent hours upon hours setting up and securing for my Lady Dieudonne. Have you been? It's a lovely affair, You would make excellent entertainment."

When Becky just stared at him blankly, Lord Highwater sighed. "I want to keep my Lady safe, and now I want to put an end to the boredom you have **** on me. And you, Becky, will help me."

Becky could feel her conviction starting to waver. By speaking up, all she had really managed to do was call his attention, and perhaps now his ire down on herself. She took a step back, again unconsciously reaching for a dagger that wasn't there.

"Oh don't be so pitiful," Highwater said, gesturing dismissively at Robin's bound body. "I know this creature isn't one of your members. She's merely a chance met companion, to whom you own no loyalty. In fact, one might even say that she is to blame for your current predicament. I am a generous man, Becky. Perhaps I'll grant some mercy--for yourself and the rest of your gaggle of harlots--if you assist me with handling... this one," another dismissive gesture toward Robin.

"They can handle themselves," Becky said quietly, barely above a whisper. It was more for herself than anyone else.

"Can they now?" Highwater asked. "Those same Bravos who are wandering around this castle, completely unaware that we know their every move? Not just tonight--no, my men do their research, as you've seen--but every move they've made for months, years in some cases. I know everything they can do, every trick up their sleeve. And I have the lot of them in the palm of my hand--looking for an artifact that doesn't exist... Like lambs to the slaughter."

Becky was silent for a moment. The room was silent. When she spoke, every word was tense, **** past clenched teeth. She liked Robin, promised to help her even. But her friends came first. Always. "What do you want me to do?"

"I... can't guarantee that I'll do it," Becky said, her voice getting quieter. "But I'll listen. At the very least."

Robin was strill straining against her bindings. They had begun to dig into her skin. The rough leather straps (uncomfortable by design) were leaving red marks on her wrists and ankles, pink against the whiteness of her flesh. "You know I'll never give in! I'll never tell you anything!" She yelled. Highwater frowned, pressing his fingers to his temple. "No matter what you do--whatever you want, I'll never give up--never!"

"First of all, you can prepare that one," the man said, producing a very small, but extremely sharp knife from somewhere within his jacket and holding it out to her. "Cut away her clothing. Every stitch of it. If you attempt to cut her bonds--they're very thick don't was my time-- you will replace her on the bench. If you attempt to give her the knife or secret it on your person, you will replace her on the bench."

"And what would happen to her if I replaced her on the bench?" Becky asked, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice.

Lord Highwater looked at her, eyes still stony, allowing a faint smile to curl his lips. "Do you really want an answer Becky?"

"Becky, you can't!" Robin screamed. "You can't help him! He's a monster! Whatever he wants, you can'!"

Becky took a deep breath. She looked at the knife he was holding out to her. It had a long handle, and blade no more than two inches long. It was almost like a scalpel. Familiar, surgical, but not much of a weapon. Her possessing it would likely change very little if it came to a fight. The price he demanded wasn't exactly outrageously high, either. Robin's modesty would be thrown away, but Becky wasn't certain she knew the meaning of the word anyways.

She hesitated. There was a choice to make.

***

This chapter was co-authored by Shandy (https://chyoa.com/user/Shandy)--please check out his stuff! :)