You gulp, not wanting to be thrown in a pit with lions or, in general, have anything to do with being made a slave.
"What can we do?" you hiss to the centaur, trying to keep your voice down.
Ulther, still arguing with the stranger at the edge of the market square, looked angry and given how easily he employed a variety of magicks to capture and humiliate you, you don't want to get on his bad side.
"I think I have a way out for us, but only if you swear to secrecy; I don't want to end up in worse trouble than I'm already in..."
Your giant, minotaur body flexes, feeling out the tightness of the shackles you've been bound with, as you nod, rushed. "Ok, yeah. I won't tell anyone... Just how are we gonna get out of here?"
A shadow falls over you as you catch a glimpse of the giant centaur's head leaning into your field of vision. He has long sandy brown hair, a slender jaw-line, striking Roman features, deep green eyes, and, oddly enough, horse-like ears atop his head, swiveling to catch any nearby sounds. He leans down as far as his own restraints will let him and nods.
"Here's the situation," he hisses, quietly. Your own animal ears are much sharper than your old, human hearing and you doubt Ulther -even if he was using magick- could hear the conversation. "Janil and Hyrath, the other two centaurs who were captured with me, were separated so we couldn't potentially plot. The thing is, the slavers made a mistake and also captured Shia'asa..."
"Who's Shia'asa?" you ask, keeping your voice down.
"Shia'asa? You don't know the Witch of the Wood? The Kitsune?"
You shake your head, feeling ignorant.
"Wow," says Trelawn, "you really must have been a human in your former life... Only a city-dweller wouldn't know the most sought-after crafter of magick in the Forestlands..."
"Either that or a man from another world," you add, glumly.
"What?"
"Never mind... Just tell me what this Shia'asa is going to do..."
Trelawn's shadow shrugs. "I'm not sure, exactly. She's currently disguised as a male kitsune, but she took me aside when Janil and Hyrath were separated from the rest of us and promised that, when the full moon rises, we'd all escape. All she asked was that we help her get Baranor back."
"Baranor? Who's that?" you ask, feeling more confused.
"Her lover; probably one of many," Trelawn answers. "The other kitsune they captured with Shia'asa. To prevent prisoners from planning escapes, they tend to separate those that are alike in hopes of keeping us cowed. They took Baranor off with Janil, across the square to those buildings."
You look in the general direction you can stare, and nod.
"What will I have to do?" you ask.
"I'm not sure, but you can bet there will be plenty," comes the reply. "With your size and strength, you can probably take most of them as soon as Shia'asa makes her move."
"Hey!" comes a loud shout, catching your attention. Trelawn's shadow retreats as you look towards your feet, at the base of the wagon, to see Rhimes, his dark skin and deep brown eyes flashing angrily, cracks a whip over your prone, shackled body. "No talking, cow!"
You wince even though the tip of the whip, cracking against your bare chest, doesn't even dent your hide. You realize, suddenly, that this new form of yours is pretty pain- and damage-resistant. Still, in a swift decision, you decide not to let the slaver know that.
Instead, you grunt and wince in pain, nodding. "Yeah, I get it," you grumble in your low voice.
"I hope so; wouldn't want to have to hex you, boy-cow..." the dusky man retorts. "Know your place and you'll be fine; sit there, shut up, and get sold like a nice, little slave... If you fuck with us, you won't be worth selling to a cattle rancher!"
Rhimes cracks the whip again, this time against your shoulder and, turning, leaves to stride across to where some bearers are stacking crates. His words sit with you, however, and sink in. He and the rest of the slavers aren't kidding and have obviously been at this for years. What if you fail? What if you attempt escape and get caught?
Suddenly, Trelawn's shadow falls over you, again.
"Remember," he hisses, quickly, "be ready, tonight. It'll be in a few hours and we'll have to act fast to keep up with whatever magicks that Witch has in store for the slavers..."
You nod and swallow, nervously. "Trelawn?" you ask, quietly.
"Yeah?"
"What will happen if we can't find your friends Shia'asa's lover ... Baranor?"
The shadow retreats as the big centaur's voice lowers almost to inaudibility. "I'm not sure, but I sure wouldn't want to be on Shia'asa's bad side in that case..."