Barbarian
Tales
Episode
1
Mistress
of the Sword
by
L'Espion
Chapter
16: Claimed
Shailaja awoke with a mouth
as dry as sand. At first she
had no idea where she was except that she was lying on a bed and staring
toward the ceiling of a tent. And
then Selvans face loomed before
her. He held in his hand a cup
and placing one hand behind her head tilted her upward so that she might
swallow. Drink this,
he said quietly. It will
help with the pain.
Shailaja was aware of numerous
aches, but especially one in each of her hands and then it all came back
to her. Seized by a sudden panic
she tried to get up, but Selvan pushed her back, but not before she brought
up her hands to where she could see them.
Each was swathed in a clean
white bandage and marked with a spot of blood on each
side. They throbbed agonizingly
and she stared at them panic-stricken.
Selvan almost certainly
knew her fear. Rest and
do not worry about your hands. I
have done all I can for them, but Velag has told me to bring you to him when
you awoke. I will delay telling
him, but his men are without and the one called Quorash has been in and out
of here a dozen times this day hoping to find you
awake.
I am enslaved and
crippled, Shailaja replied
bitterly. What chance do
I have?
A better chance than
you had yesterday. There is always
hope as long as you live and you are not without friends in this
camp. Not all appreciate
Gorvags rule, although few dare oppose him
openly.
That was both good and bad
news. But it was hard for Shailaja
to think of how she might turn this to her
advantage. And the presence of
the Belusendrans in the camp was hardly
reassuring. It seemed from the
way they had spoken that they had worked out some sort of arrangement with
Gorvag and that she was part of that
arrangement. With her hands maimed
she could not defend herself and she dreaded the coming of Velag who was
almost certain to check on his property.
She lay back and tried to
follow Selvans advice. While
she lay with eyes closed he spoke quietly to her, explaining how things were
in the camp.
With Dens death
there was no one to oppose Gorvag when he
returned. By all intelligence
Siva would have made the best leader, but she was a woman and therefore
unacceptable. As a result Gorvag
assumed the leadership and then began to reorganize the Ravens to his
liking. His first step was to
enlarge the band by inviting every brigand within calling distance to
join. This soon eliminated many
members of the band who were most loyal to
Den. I would have gone too and
so would Ulriggan, but Gorvag knows he needs us and ordered us to
stay. We are watched by those
loyal to Gorvag and have not yet found the opportunity to
flee. For both of us it is difficult,
as Ulriggan would have to give up his metal-working equipment and I would
lose all of my supplies of herbs and medicaments, many of which have taken
me years to collect. So we are
prisoners of a sort ourselves. Siva
chose to stay of her free will. I
am not sure of her motives. I
know that she harbours no love for Gorvag, but something holds her in the
camp.
Selvans whispered
tale came to a sudden end as someone entered the
tent. I heard you
speaking. She is awake isnt
she?
Selvan moved to block access
to where Shailaja lay. She
is awake, but hardly in a state to walk.
You know what happened to her.
She needs time to recover.
Velag demands her
presence, the speaker continued, pushing into the tent and shouldering
Selvan aside. He stood hands
on hips looming over Shailaja.
You would do well to behave when brought before him. It
was the Belusendran who had been referred to as
Quorash.
And does the mighty
Velag fear a warrior who cannot hold a sword? Shailaja asked
bitterly. As Quorash stood over
her she felt no fear of death. She
had been betrayed and dishonoured and her attempts at vengeance had brought
her only further dishonour. All
that was left to her was death in spite of her instincts for
survival.
I see your spirit is not
yet broken, Quorash said.
That is good for it makes you worth keeping if only for the
pleasure of breaking you. But
try to hold you tongue when before Velag.
It will do you little good to anger him.
Shailaja
did not answer, and Quorash mistakenly took her silence for
compliance. Can she
walk? he asked, turning to Selvan.
She has been badly
abused, Selvan temporized.
It would be better if she were allowed to rest and
heal. She will be of little use
as a slave if she does not live.
I will take that as
a yes, Quorash sneered, returning his gaze to
Shailaja. Are you going
to come willingly or shall I force you?
Shailaja was nude beneath
the blankets, as Quorash knew full well, but she threw them aside, hiding
the pain the movement caused her.
With her hands swathed in bandages she used her elbows and pushed
herself to her feet. She swayed
but managed not to fall. Ashamed
at her weakness, but not her nudity she waited for Quorashs
reaction.
Put something on
her, he ordered Selvan.
We will allow her some modesty at least for
now. How much she is allowed
later will be up to Velag.
Selvan helped Shailaja with
a loose-fitting sleeveless robe.
Designed for someone of normal height, it came only to her knees and
fit her body tightly everywhere else, but she managed to get it over her
head with a little help from the healer.
It seemed a shameful act to hide from those in the camp; especially
in so humble a garment, but she was far from her best, and despite her
despondency there lingered within her a faint wish for
survival. It was something that
was always with her, sometimes even defeating her sense of
honour. Dressed as a slave she
was now ready to accompany Quorash.
Take this before you
leave, Selvan said. From
a small leather pouch tied he took out a tiny paper packet and poured it
into a cup of water. This
will help with the pain and healing, he explained.
Shailaja knew that the drink
was more than a pain killer and nodded her thanks after she swallowed
it. For a Kaltaran warrior the
only dishonour greater than that of being captured and used was to be forced
to carry the child of her captor.
The powder contained the crushed leaves of the senna bush.
It would prevent conception for
a quarter of a moon. She had
taken the leaf even after taking up with Den. Her lover had voiced no disapproval
as neither he nor Shailaja wished the blessing of a child until they had
given up the mercenary life. What
Selvan was giving her was a bit of extra insurance against
impregnation.
Quorash voiced no objection
to the potion, but he took no chances that she might
escape. Outside the tent two
more Belusendrans waited. As
Shailaja emerged they quickly closed about her and shackled her wrists, forcing
her arms behind her. Had she
been even remotely fit she would have killed all three of them, weapon or
no, but in her weakened state she was no match for them and the spectacle
of a warrior struggling in the arms of her inferiors was a further humiliation
Shailaja was not going to subject herself
to. She already knew how she
would face Velag, and she did not intend to make him
happy.
She was marched through
the camp, escorted like a felon being led to her punishment, and she felt
not much better. Her hands still
pained her terribly and every part of her body that had been violated protested
against movement.
As she was paraded before
the leering gaze of Gorvags mercenaries she could not help but think
of how just the day previous she had ridden into camp like a true warrior,
head held high in search of her enemies.
She knew now that she had been a fool, and had allowed her arrogance
and self-confidence to get in the way of common sense.
Velag was waiting outside
his tent. With him were several
other olive-skinned warriors dressed in dark armour typical of the
Belusendrans. Apparently a few
more had arrived in camp in the last day.
Shailaja had not had much contact with Belusendrans and she studied
them closely. She was struck
by how professional they appeared when compared to the rabble Gorvag had
gathered about him. They looked
at her keenly as she approached.
Velag stepped
forward. Of the five Belusendans
only his armour was chased with silver attesting to his
rank. So, he
said. Are you ready to
serve or must I break you first?
I have little choice
but to serve, chained as I am, Shailaja
replied. But if you mean
willingly, the answer is no.
It is as I had
hoped, Velag grinned.
I enjoy a challenge and I suspect you may be most
challenging.
He stepped closer, looking
her over as he might a prize horse.
It is a pity, about your
hands. I would have been most
interested in crossing blades with you.
But no doubt you will be well suited to serving on your back if nothing
else.
Shailaja hated the way he
spoke of her as if she were nothing more than some animal to be
bred. But she knew that to a
Belusendran warrior that was all a woman was; something to lie beneath him
and give him pleasure while he furthered his ambition of getting her with
child. As a Kaltaran warrior
he saw little more in her except an example of excellent breeding
stock.
Lets have a
better look at you now that you are standing, Velag
continued. With a quick tug he
loosened the ties on her robe allowing it to pool at her
feet. She stood exposed to the
eyes of the camp, and in spite of her Kaltaran upbringing she could not help
colouring, outraged that a warrior should be treated
so. Shailaja had always wondered
at the fascination of the southern races in shaming a woman by baring her
skin. Kaltarans saw no shame
in exposing the body, in spite of the fact that the climate of their homeland
did not exactly encourage such action.
Nevertheless, the knowledge that what was being done to her was regarded
by Velag and the others as demeaning, sent a surge of colour to her skin,
a deep flush of shame spreading down her neck to her
breasts.
She blushes prettily
enough for all her bravado Velag
observed.
Do not be deceived,
Gorvag said. She will require
much taming. I will be most
interested to see how well you
succeed.
It will take time
and patience, Velag agreed.
Just as the taming and training of a warhorse takes time and
training, but the result is well worth the effort.
The discussion of how Shailaja
was to be broken and trained sent her blood to boiling, and the haze of the
blood rage returned. Had she
not been chained she would have attacked, in spite of the maiming of her
hands.
Her captors saw this also
and acted immediately, the two men who had flanked her seizing her arms and
holding her steady as she strained
forward.
I see she is as fierce
as you have said, Velag laughed.
He had not stepped back a hair, knowing her to be
helpless. Shailaja quivered with
rage, something that did not go
unnoticed.
See how she rages,
Velag marvelled, his eyes moving over her heaving breasts as she strained
toward him. I can see she
will have to be watched carefully.
He licked his lips as he stepped closer and then reached out caressing
her breasts.
Like ripe cherries,
he mused, his thumbs flicking over her
nipples. To her shame they rose
to attention, firming into hard points that were so sensitive that she almost
moaned in response.
Perhaps, he
said, as Shailaja continued to fight, she will not prove to be to difficult
to tame after all.
Shamed at her response and
unable to reach the object of her fury, her fit suddenly left her, and she
almost fell, the surge of anger having robbed her of her
strength. She suddenly sagged
in the arms of her captors, no longer able to stand, her chest heaving and
her body covered in sweat.
Take her to my
pavilion, Velag ordered.
I will deal with her later as soon as my business is
finished.
What business that might
be Shailaja had no idea, as she was lifted under the arms and half-walked
half-carried to Velags tent.
Her shame could hardly have
been more complete, and she had brought most of it on
herself. Now she struggled to
keep from falling as she was taken in abject captivity to the pavilion of
her master.
Inside she found herself
in unaccustomed luxury. Velag
and his minions did not travel light.
The circular tent was large, some ten paces across and partitioned
into two sections. She had no
idea what was behind the section at the back of the tent, but the larger
front area was richly furnished. It
remained her very much of the sumptuous pavilion where Cleron had despoiled
her. Silk cushions were set about
a low table that contained various decanters and cups of metal as well as
what appeared to be bowls of fruit, nuts, and
raisins. The floor was covered
in several thick rugs and unlit brass lanterns hung from the central truss
supporting the tent. Heavy wooden
chests doubled as places for storage and
seats. However, what surprised
her most was not the opulence of the furnishings, but the human occupants
of the tent.
Prostrated on the floor
of the tent were two seminude young women and a youth in a similar state
of undress. They remained that
way until Quorash, who had followed her to the tent ordered them to their
feet. See to our new
guest. Velag wants her bathed,
combed and perfumed in preparation for his return.
The three slaves, for so
Shailaja supposed them to be, immediately jumped to their feet and set about
seeing to his instructions. They
could not begin at once, however.
First Shailajas guards had to insure that she did not attempt
a highly improbable escape.
Escorting her to the table, they pushed her to her
knees. Producing a key, they
removed the irons from her wrists, giving her a sudden faint hope that they
might be foolish enough to leave her free, but it was merely a change of
her shackles not a freeing of them.
About her right ankle was
placed a light shackle; one that was, however, more than strong enough to
hold her. It was attached by
a chain to a heavy iron stake that had been driven into the
ground. Their job of securing
her finished, both men left the tent, leaving her to the ministrations of
the slaves.
In the presence of the slaves
Shailaja did not dare to test how well the iron stake was driven into the
ground, but doubted that she would have had the strength to remove it without
the help of tools even if she had not been in her weakened state, especially
given the fact that she could not properly use her injured hands.
Shailaja wanted none of
the attentions of the slaves and told them so in no uncertain
terms. They looked at her in
something very near complete panic when she ordered them
away. Do not touch me,
she growled, hoping that her sheer size and appearance would be enough to
deter them, since she doubted she had the strength to fight off even such
feeble opponents as the two girls and the effeminate young man for very
long.
To her surprise the two
female slaves fell to their knees and burst into tears, while the male looked
at her with an expression of complete
dismay. She was a bit taken aback
by this, but before she could react the young man, who she guessed was in
his late teens, spoke.
Please do not dismiss us
mistress. We will be beaten if
we fail to complete our tasks. You
must allow us to do as we have been ordered.
It will not be your
fault if I refuse you, Shailaja
answered. I will take all
of the blame.
One of the girls then spoke
up. Shailaja saw that the two
young women were identical in appearance, both being small, dark-eyed and
quite comely, with long ebony tresses that flowed down their backs to their
shapely hips and beyond.
Mistress, she
implored. What you say
will not matter. We will be held
to account for not doing our duty.
Shailaja sighed
deeply. The brief exercise she
had been forced to take had left her completely exhausted and in no mood
to argue with the three slaves.
They seemed much younger than
she was, even though she and they could not have been more than a few years
different in age, and she did not want to be the cause of their
punishment. Resignedly she shrugged
and let them attend to her.
They immediately fussed
about her, almost instantly causing her to regret her
decision. However, she welcomed
the warm cloths they produced with which they cleaned the sweat from her
body. They could not, of course,
remove the many bruises she bore as a result of her ordeal, nor could they
do anything about her bandaged hands, but they were skilled at what they
did and as their soft hands played over her body Shailaja welcomed the feeling
of cleanliness.
Among their first tasks
was to pour and set before her a cup of
wine. She found that she had
a raging thirst, but to her shame she could not lift the cup, her bandaged
hands preventing her. However,
the young man immediately saw her problem and hastened to lift the cup for
her. Chained, and reduced to
the helplessness of a babe, she could hardly have been more shamed, but she
drank, swallowing until the cup was
drained.
She now wished for food,
but none appeared to be forthcoming and having no desire to drink herself
into insensibility she refused a second
cup. However, the first had done
its work and she began to feel quite drowsy.
She tried to fight it, fearing
to sleep in the tent of an enemy, but it was no
use. Worn out from her ordeal
and the pain of her injuries she slumped
forward. She was aware that her
attendants moved to lower her gently onto a bed of cushions and then she
slept, awakening only when the pangs of thirst and hunger forced her
to.
Shailaja knew first hand
that injuries stimulate a strong demand in the body for drink and she awoke
again with her mouth dry and desperate for
water. She jerked awake as she
recalled where she was, and gazed about her in some confusion until she saw
that she was lying on one side of the
table. The silk cushions were
soft beneath her and she had no wish to rise, but she was aware from the
soft light of lanterns that it was now evening, and also that there was someone
sitting across the table from her.
Stifling a groan, and careful
to place no weight on her hands, she managed to push herself into a sitting
position. She found the other
side of the table occupied by Velag and to her consternation and undisguised
anger, Gorvag. The latter greeted
her before she could speak.
Ah, the Ice Maiden awakes.
Velag and I were just admiring the beauty of your form and I was just
enlightening him on the pleasures of spreading your
thighs.
There was little Shailaja
could say to so vile a pronouncement and in spite of her seething rage she
said nothing. Although she was
not always temperate in her actions Shailaja was somewhat taciturn when it
came to speech, a characteristic that had confirmed Gorvags view of
her icy nature.
She found that while she
had slept Velags three attendants had seen to bathing and dressing
her. They had also rubbed enough
sweet oils and perfumes into her skin to serve a
bagnio. Her clothing
if such it may have been termed was so minimal it hardly warranted the
term. It consisted of a diaphanous
silk skirt that hung about her hips on a light golden chain and reached barely
to her knees. Her torso was covered
in cloth of similar material. Both
pieces of fabric were so light as to hide little of what was beneath them
and were obviously intended titillate rather than conceal, a fact that was
born out by Gorvags eager stare.
She was also decorated with
various pieces of gold jewellery including a jewelled bracelet on her left
wrist and a matching anklet on her left
ankle. A gold chain from which
depended a large green stone hung from her neck and descended to the middle
of her breasts. A stinging sensation
in both of her earlobes told her that her ears had been pierced and no doubt
adorned with matching earrings.
Shailaja wondered if it was wine alone that she had
drunk. It seemed not, as the
pain of having her earlobes pierced should certainly have awakened
her.
She saw also to her considerable
shame and annoyance that the nipples of her breasts had been heavily rouged,
giving them the appearance of ripe
raspberries. However, there was
a further horror that was revealed to her by an unnatural warmth between
her legs and under her armpits. She
dared not raise her skirt to explore, but she knew without looking that the
area above and around her petals had been cleaned of all
hair. She felt intensely
shamed. It was an action that
said more than anything else Velag had done, including the way he had dressed
and ornamented her, that she was his to do with as he
wished.
If the Belusnendran warlord
had any knowledge of the humiliation he had inflicted upon her, he hid it
well. Instead, unlike Gorvag
he greeted her graciously, a act of civility that somehow seemed quite out
of place considering his previous boastful remarks regarding
her. Welcome to my table,
Shailaja. I have no doubt that
you are thirsty and probably hungry as
well. It is regretful that due
to your injuries you cannot feed yourself, but be pleased to accept the
assistance of Killa and Teela as well as Revtim.
On either side of the table
the two girls rose and behind her she heard the young man
stir. Immediately they were beside
her filling the drinking goblets before her and piling her plate with meat
and vegetables.
They first held the larger
of the two goblets for her. It
was filled with what she took to be water while the smaller of the two cups
was filled with what was obviously wine.
In spite of the indignity of having to be fed by hand Shailaja knew
there was no other choice. Her
injured hands were not capable of grasping a fork, much les holding a larger
object such as a goblet.
She drank first of the water
and then of the wine. She knew
it might be drugged, but was hardly in a position to resist whether it was
or not.
Then she allowed one of
the girls to raise a fork to her lips.
Although she had been told their names, she didnt know which
was Killa or Teela and could not have told them apart in any
case. Revtim she did know, and
he stood with folded napkin to pat her lips or catch any food that might
fall.
In this manner under the
watchful eye of Gorvag and Velag she was fed as if she were a sick
child. It was still another of
the many humiliations heaped upon her, but one she could not avoid if she
was to get her strength back and hope to
escape.
Shailaja was surprised at
being treated so solicitously by her captors, having expected to be subjected
to Velags promised breaking, and felt some hope that she
might find someway to escape her captivity without undergoing further
degradation. However, by now
she was under few illusions. She
strongly suspected that what might seem like mercy or perhaps a change of
heart of the part of her master, had little to do with a concern
for her dignity and very much to do with wanting her strong enough that he
might enjoy the fruits of her body more
fully. With any luck, however,
he might hold off long enough that she might recover from her treatment at
Gorvags hands. She could
only do her best to heal and wait to see what happened.
Just a little wine,
Velag said by way of explanation as she finished the last of the smaller
cup. Water is better for
the speeding of the healing process.
Shailaja could think of
no reply to this observation, and so remained
silent. Completely at the mercy
of Velag and Gorvag, she tried to determine what she might do to extricate
herself from their clutches without further loss of
honour. Unfortunately, death
seemed the only way out until she could return to her former physical
state.
The meal proceeded with
the slaves feeding her each bite until she could eat no
more. The episode achieved what
Velag no doubt intended; impressing upon her that she was his to do with
as he wished. He could feed her
or just as easily have her flogged, and it left her wondering just what he
had planned for the rest of the evening.
However, she was not prepared for what he and Gorvag did
next.
The table had been cleared
and wine served to the two men.
Watching her to gauge her reaction, Velag set down his
drink. How was the meal?
he asked Gorvag. Was it
to your liking?
Very much so,
Gorvag grinned. He stretched
his arms over his head, emphasizing his powerful
build. But I understand
you have something special planned for dessert.
Velags grin matched
Gorvags. I do
indeed. He turned his gaze
on the two female servants.
Killa and Teela, present yourselves.
The two female servants
plastered smiles upon their faces and moved to the side of each of the men
and then proceeded to slowly rub their bodies against
them.
Gorvag pulled Teela to him,
his cruel lips moving over her arm and
shoulder. Then using his strength
he arched her back over the table, bending her like a bow while at the same
time he placed his right hand on her inner
thigh. With easy pressure he
parted her legs and placed her backside on top of the table; then he lowered
his head between her legs pushing the ruined nose Shailaja had given him
downward until it touched Teelas petals.
He took a deep
breath. I like the smell
of this one, he exclaimed.
Teela wiggled her hips
suggestively, seemingly enjoying the attention, and perhaps she was, but
to Shailaja it was a disgusting exhibition of submission, one that she was
obviously supposed to learn.
Quickly,
Gorvag released the silver chain from about the girls waist, allowing
Teelas brief covering to slip from her
body. Shailaja noted that, as
in her case, the silken down of womanhood had been removed from about
Teelas petals. Clearly
this was the mark of a slave and she felt her anger increase as the spectacle
unfolded before her. Mixed with
her anger, however, was fear. Velag
and Gorvag were intent on showing her the place of a slave; her place if
they had their way.
Teela moaned, moving her
hips invitingly as Gorvag stroked her petals with his
tongue. She opened her legs wider
and thrust her pelvis toward him and then cried out partly in pleasure and
partly in pain as he gripped her breasts, allowing the firm flesh to flow
through his fingers.
Both Teela and Killa were
well made young women; each with full rounded, breasts and dark prominent
nipples. Long of leg, and narrow
of waist, their shapely bodies writhed and twisted under the attentions of
the two men. By now, Gorvag,
a man of little patience and quick to satisfy his urges, had Teela beneath
him. While she squirmed in
anticipation he removed the laces on his trousers and mounted her quivering
body.
Teela let out a cry as Gorvag
thrust full into her and then moved her body in harmony with his as he began
to work her. He was not a gentle
lover, making no effort to please his
partner. He simply drove into
her until he released into her heaving
body.
Velag showed a good deal
more patience and consideration. He
caressed Killa with his lips, moving them slowly over her breasts and belly
before working his way lower. She
moaned and dug her fingers into his back as his tongue parted her
petals. She arched into him,
her perfect features distorted with passion, finally screaming as he brought
her to a sexual peak. Then he
allowed her to return the favour, her eager fingers loosening the laces of
his trousers and easing them down over his
hips.
Killas eyes widened
slightly as Velag revealed his manhood.
It was fully ready and as large a member as Shailaja had
seen. Unconsciously her breath
quickened, and a familiar feeling flowed through her
loins. She could not look away
as Killa began to use her lips and tongue and Velag groaned in
response.
As Killa slowly worked her
magic Velags breathing quickened.
He caressed the slave girls breasts, pinching her nipples and
eliciting grunts of pain and pleasure from her lips once more, even as she
teased him into a state of groaning
arousal. Finally, Velag too took
his full pleasure, lifting Killa onto his lap and easing her on to his
manhood.
She groaned as he parted
her petals, moving her body rhythmically as he entered her
fully. Then her movements quickened
as Velags pelvis rose beneath her, placing his member deep within
her. For several hundred heartbeats
Killa rode Velag, her movements gradually increasing in speed and her
masters grunts and groans of pleasure intensifying, until finally Velag
released into her.
Gorvag had finished long
before, but Teela had not been idle.
In spite of the fact that the mercenary chief had given her little
satisfaction she seemed undismayed, running her hands over Gorvags
hirsute body until he was once again in a state of
readiness. The second time, almost
by way of reward, he took Teela more slowly finally allowing her release
as well.
All of this took place no
more than two paces from Shailaja and she could not easily have ignored it
unless she had been both blind and deaf.
Affairs of the flesh frequently took place openly in mercenary camps,
and she had grown used to them during her time with the Ravens, but she had
never witnessed such activity in a well lit tent while laying just a body
length away.
The heat of arousal rose
within her and she was breathing heavily by the time Gorvag finished for
the second time. It was a reaction
that dismayed and shamed her. To
her good fortune, the light of the candles was not enough that either Gorvag
or Velag noticed her loss of composure or else she might have been invited
to participate. Had that been
the case, there would have been little she could have done to
refuse.
Fortunately, neither man
seemed much interested in her, and she helped discourage them by feigning
sleep. Velag called for more
wine, and while Teela poured and they drank, they spoke of other things including
the reason for Velags presence in the camp.
In half a moon the
rest of my men will arrive, Velag said, and with them will come
Bekor and his men. Then can we
move on Uvar.
It will be a pleasant
undertaking, brother, Gorvag
gloated. I have had it
in my mind to target Uvar ever since I first laid eyes on the Uvarian
queen. She is as a juicy a morsel
as I have ever seen and will be a most worthy
prize.
Let us hope it is
as easy as you believe, Velag
replied. I would not like
to see my men wasted in a long siege.
Uvars defences
are weak, Gorvag sneered, and the Uvarians
unprepared. Like all Arkanians
they are spineless weaklings when it comes to matters of war, preferring
to hire others to do their fighting for
them. This time, however, they
will stand alone. I suspect they
will throw open the gates of the city and surrender without a
fight.
And you think they
will surrender their queen into the bargain? asked Velag
dubiously. They must be
great cowards indeed.
She is only a
woman, Gorvag replied.
They will give her up without a second thought if their own
lives are spared.
I am glad you think
so, brother, Velag said.
We will speak further on it
tomorrow. As for now, I am ready
for sleep.
Gorvag stirred himself and
Shailaja heard him move toward the door to the
tent. Until tomorrow
then. I bid you a good
night.
Gorvag left and Velag was
not long in following him to sleep.
What Shailaja had heard disturbed
her. She had met the Queen of
Uvar and had judged her to be a most worthy
woman. She had no wish to see
her shamed. However, as a prisoner
herself there was little she could do to help her until she could regain
her strength. With those thoughts
in her mind she drifted toward sleep.
Her next day of captivity
passed much as had the first.
Shailaja was confined in Velags tent, attended by Teela, Killa,
and Revtim. Selvan came in once
to look at her hands, and pronounced himself pleased with their
progress.
Shailaja was less
pleased. Her hands were still
swollen and very painful, and she could move her fingers only
slightly. The ugly wounds in
the centre of the palms were mirrored on the backs and she feared that the
tendons may have been damaged. It
left her feeling even more subject to Velags
whims. Perfumed and shaved like
an expensive whore she could not help but be angered by the shame she was
forced to endure. Her day of
enforced idleness was made bearable only by the potion Selvan forced on
her. It made her drowsy and she
slept most of the day away. That
night, however, her strange captivity
continued.
Once again she was the unwilling
guest of Gorvag and Velag, and once again her crippled hands forced her to
be fed like a child. And she
was again subjected to the spectacle of the two Belusendran warriors amusing
themselves with the slave girls.
This time they changed partners, Gorvag taking Killa and Velag taking
Teela. Shailaja wondered where
Revtim fitted into all of this, but supposed that he might be reserved for
guests of a different persuasion.
More disturbing than the
entertainment, however, was her reaction to
it. On the first night she had
felt a slight sense of arousal, one that left her feeling so shamed that
she had resolved not to watch if such a performance was
repeated. However, to her further
shame, once the activity commenced she was unable to turn her eyes
away. She was filled with unreasoning
desire, her body heating to the point where sweat beaded her skin as she
watched the carnal exhibition. By
the time Velag had finished with Teela she was struggling hard to control
her breathing and was glad that neither man could detect the warmth between
her thighs.
However, something gave
a hint of her condition. Still
fondling Killa, Gorvag leered across the
table. Was that to your
liking, barbarian? Perhaps tomorrow
you might join us?
No, Velag
said. Not
yet. When I take her I want her
whole and ready. But I think
that time might not be far off.
He looked directly into
her eyes and to her chagrin Shailaja could not meet his gaze for fear she
would give herself away. Like
an obedient slave she lowered her eyes, trying to hide her state of
arousal. But certain states of
excitement were hard to hide. The
wet heat between her thighs ached for the touch of a
man. She forced down the feeling,
wondering how long it would be before she desired Velags
touch.
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