A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! You guys wrote such nice things, and I'm really glad you liked it. Your reviews really motivated me. Anyways, here's the second chapter.
Chapter two: CurThe heavy sound of all the mots and coves rushing around overwhelmed me at once. They shouted over bargains, cut purses, and the like. The sudden change had given me such a shock that I wailed out a high howl of hopelessness.
Only to have some puttock silence me with a swift kick.
I s'pose I should have seen that one coming. Anyone would have done it, what with some cur howling in Daymarket. Knowing that didn't make it hurt any less, though.
I picked my battered self up off of the cobbles where I'd sprawled and hobbled over to an alley that stretched off to the docks. I hadn't quite gotten used to having four legs instead of two, and the going was slow. The people rushed around, spinning me into frenzy as I dodged the less-kind ones who sought to kick me. I was no stranger to the ways of the Cesspool, and I knew that my first priority was to get myself out of the way. Mumpers with nothing to eat sometimes made meals of stray dogs, and cruel lads had sport with torturing them.
Several crates of grain sat sheltered from the frost in the alley. I squirmed between two and hunkered down to wait for the brief lull of the change from Daymarket to Nightmarket.
I was fair addled with what had happened. I was an honest to gods dog. Would I ever see my friends, family, and Pounce ever again? Would I even survive the night?
I wasn't certain why that sarden tosspot had taken Pounce. I could understand that he'd done what he did to me because of my hand in Kayu's imprisonment. I'd known that all that bragging on my account that my friends had done would get me into hot water someday.
And it definitely had.
I'd also thought the small pocket of heat that I'd burrowed into would be too uncomfortable to sleep in, but apparently this doggy form wasn't as demanding as my human one. My glims slipped close, and I was asleep.
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The rumble of cartwheels clattering past my hidey-hole woke me. I poked my noll out to see Nightmarket in full swing.
A grumble sounded from the back of my throat at the thought of waiting till the end of Nightmarket. I could make all sorts of sounds now, without even meaning to.
I gave a last scan of my surroundings (looking for a more comfortable nook or a way out of my predicament, I'm not sure.).
The crooked god must have had a hand in all the happenings that night. That's the only explanation that my poor doggy nob can come up with as the reason for Ersken and his Dogs' presence in Nightmarket that eve. It was usually the docks and the waterfront homes that his senior Dogs chose to patrol.
Although, I reminded myself, seeing as I didn't show up for watch this evening in light of my situation, mayhap my Dogs have gone to look for me and asked the others to cover their usual beat.
The thought of someone finding out what had happened to me filled me with a mad joy. I blame my next actions on the wild hope that drove me mad as a midden hen.
With a bark I trotted over to my longtime Puppy friend. His Dogs, Eva and Del, stood a few feet away.
I rubbed my furry snout on his breeches and whuffled the fur poking out the top of his boots.
He looked down at me incredulously. "Sorry," Ersken said, nudging me away with the toe of his boot. "but I've naught to feed you, poor cur."
I believe a bit of my humanity slipped as my hopes were dashed. I sank my pearlies into his leg and raced back towards my alley before he could think to kick me again. His curses followed me.
I kept walking well past my little cranny, deep in thought.
Would I have done the same? Of course. Who wanted a smelly dog to take care of? Ersken was the fourth son of a not-so-wealthy family. He wouldn't have been able to take me in anyway.
And why should he have wanted to? I could not blame him.
The shadows lengthened, and I drew further away from the relative safety of a bustling crowd. Mayhap I'd decided to go with the Black God's Option. How was I to live without my family and friends and Dog work?
That, I believe, is what led me to the back roads near the Court of the Rogue. A cracknob move for even a human to make, but suicidal for a tasty looking dog.
My paws began to ache just as I came upon Rosto.
I was surprised to see the King himself wandering back here. Why wasn't he at the court?
Rosto was one of those coves that only show the feelings that they want you to see. It's a useful talent in his line of business, but I like to flatter myself that I know him well enough to tell his moods even when he'd prefer me not to. There was a tightness about his eyes and jaw that led me to believe he was very upset.
His beautiful black glims were scanning the shadows. What could he be looking for?
I was still hidden partially around the corner. That's how I saw the rushers before Rosto himself.
One gripped a throwing knife, and I barked to warn my friend.
Rosto's head snapped up, and he saw the shiv flying end over end towards his nob. He did something then that I'd never seen or heard of anyone doing before. When it was about a foot from his face, he plucked it from the air!
Then, as if it had been in his hand the whole time, he sent the knife spinning back at its owner. It hit the scummernob in the throat with a wet thunk.
The others quickly closed ranks around Rosto.
"Hello, lads. What brings you to this dank alleyway? Plannin' on overthrowin' me? Don't you know that's a job with an audience?" Those tosspots laughed. Hadn't they just seen their friend get doused? Hadn't they heard the tales of what Rosto could do? My hackles lifted and I stood at point.
"So sorry, highness," chuckled the ringleader. "The boys an' I jes' thought that this would be so much better. More private-like."
One at the end drew his knife seemingly from nowhere.
Now, before I tell the next part, I've got sommat to say: In all my years in the Cesspool and my six months as a Puppy, I have never killed someone. All that was about to change, and I can only hope that Mithros and the Goddess will forgive me.
Rosto couldn't have seen him; his eyes were fixed on the leader. I bounded forward and leaped to seize him about the neck. Giving it a vicious twist, we both tumbled to the ground.
This started the brawl in earnest. Rosto took on three at once. The remaining two must not have been too worried about their partners, for they advanced upon me.
"This little scut killed Jerry!" The speaker darted forward and tried to brain me with the butt of his knife, but I twisted out of the way and bit him instead.
"Careful there, Jim. This is a sharp'un..." I butted into the back of Jim's knees, causing him to drop, and tore his throat out while his friend was still talking.
The thug's voice trailed off as he watched. Then he fell upon me with a roar. He sank his knife into my haunches, causing it to stick. He laughed with victory, forgetting he no longer had a weapon.
Feeling the throb in my lower parts and my legs give way, I wrapped my jaws about his leg and hung on with a vengeance as he tried to shake me off.
Red had seeped into the edges of my vision, but I still managed to see the welcome sight of Rosto creeping up behind the cove and slitting his throat.
Then I slipped to the ground, senseless.
A/N: Here's the disclaimer I forgot before:
Disclaimer: I don't own characters and plot events from Terrier. I do, however, own the idea of Beka being turned into a dog. So don't plagiarize/sue me. Please.