DAUGHTERS
OF THE SKY
Episode 1 The Slavers of El
Arish
Chapter
4
Journeys
Ben Aben was in an extremely bad temper by the time he caught up with the rest of the caravan. He had stayed with Delendria, as his latest concubine called herself, longer than he had planned and as a result he had been forced to ride after nightfall to catch up. As a result he had to wait while his tent was raised and was forced to eat in the open with his men. It was something he preferred not to do; not when he had a new love to entertain. He made do by booting several of his men out their tent so he could keep his Elven odalisque out of sight. She was his and his alone.
Her exotic name interested him. He usually renamed his concubines, but he decided he would let her keep hers. She had told him, during their ride to catch up with the others, that in Elvish her name referred to the sapphire gem he had taken from her neck when she had been captured. As a symbol of his esteem he had returned it to her.
He had learned a bit more abut her during the ride. Although reluctant to speak, she was not so foolish as to not answer his questions and he had learned a good deal about her. As he had suspected she had been bred to be a warrior, and although she had given him few details about her abilities he suspected that she was more than capable of defending herself. It was something he intended to keep in mind until he was sure that she was fully compliant. It would take a little time, but her reminded himself a woman was very much like a horse. It took time to properly train a good mount and a well trained concubine was worth the effort.
The first step in that training was obedience. So far he had been gentle with her, but he was prepared to discipline her if she proved intractable. He thought that the first bedding had gone well. She had resisted at first, but when the helplessness of her situation became clear, she had let him have his way. He suspected, but was not quite sure, that she might even have enjoyed some of it. Perhaps in a week or so he could dispense with binding her, although the taking of a woman in bondage was one of the aspects of sex he enjoyed most thoroughly.
The thought of bedding her dispelled some of his bad temper. His tent was almost erect and supper was almost over. He was savouring a cup of wine with the Elven girl before he bedded her once again. Just a few more minutes and he would summon her. He was certain that by the time he reached El Arish she would be properly trained.
Delendria squatted in the soldier’s tent she had been ordered into. There was just enough room to stand up straight, but she was taking advantage of what she hoped was a lapse in the security of her captors. She had a different understanding of Ben Aben after riding with him. He was not the complete monster she thought he was; but she was hardly ready to forgive him for what he had done. He had brutally defiled her and for that she could never forgive him. She would have her revenge, but first she needed to escape and that was what she hoped she was about to achieve.
Ben Aben’s men had pegged the tent down well. But they could not seal it completely. By tugging hard she was able to create an opening large enough for her to squeeze through. It was a desperate action. She had been temporarily left alone. For some reason Ben Aben did not want any of his men to see her. During the ride to catch up with the caravan he had kept her close to him, swaddled in a garment that covered her from head to foot and did not reveal so much as an inch of skin. She thought it a strange way for him to treat the woman he had just raped, but now she intended to take advantage of it. If she waited she might never get another chance.
She peered out into the darkness. She had arrived at the campsite at night, so she knew nothing of its layout. However, by good fortune the side of the tent she had opened was away from the fire. She sensed that the air was cool, and was glad of the heavy garment that Ben Aben had forced her to wear. Once she was away from the camp she would need its warmth to help her survive the night.
She waited a few seconds, listening, and then made her move, slipping out the back of the tent and moving carefully toward the edge of the camp. She had nothing to guide her. None of Lemuria’s three moons had yet risen and it was pitch black. However, her Elven eyesight helped. Here a Man or a Dwarf would have seen only darkness, Delendria able to pick out a shimmering outline of every object around her. It helped her to avoid the tent pegs and guy ropes as she picked her way between the tents.
She moved as quickly as she could without making any unnecessary noise. At any second her absence might be discovered and she had to be well out of the camp before then. Her best chance was to steal a horse. Although she had never ridden a horse before today, she had found that it was similar to riding a gryphon. If she could just get far enough away from the camp she might be able to lose any pursuit in the darkness.
She reached the area where the horses were staked out without incident. Now it was just a matter of choosing a mount without spooking any of them. For this her Elven ability to commune with nature served her well. Not a horse so much as whickered in fear as she slipped the tether of the mount she had ridden to the camp. Slipping a bridle over its head she led it slowly from the camp and then into the darkness, not daring to mount until she was sure that she was out of earshot.
She rode bareback, kicking the horse into a trot once she was sure that it was safe. She did not ride in a straight line, taking a circuitous route around the camp, and then heading back the way she had come. It was a good plan, or so she thought. It would take her directly back to the ambush site and from there she could follow the road back to the Dwarven stronghold. If she was lucky the Dwarfs might already be on the march. It was just possible that somehow word had gotten back to them about the ambush. If that was the case she would be able to lead the Dwarfs right to Ben Aben. Vengeance would be hers sooner than she had hoped. With that thought in her heart she rode off into the darkness.
“What do you mean she’s gone!” Ben Aben screamed at the trembling servant who had brought him the news. Cursing he hurled the cut glass wine decanter at the man, splashing red wine across the tent. Without waiting for an answer he got to his feet and ignoring his state of semi-undress marched out of the tent.
Outside Ismail and Abas were waiting for him. “Well?” he demanded.
“She slipped out of the back of the tent, master,” Abas reported. “One of the horses is missing, but there is no telling which way she might have gone.”
“Of course there is, you fool,” Ben Aben shouted. “She will have gone back the way we came. It is the only direction that makes sense. She could hardly have thought to escape by heading farther away from her place of refuge.”
Ben Aben thought for a second. “She took just one horse?”
Ismail nodded. “Just one, master.”
“Then I will take two. Mount up Ismail. We are going to run an Elf into the ground.”
Delendria heard them long before she saw them. The pounding of horses’ hooves echoed down the canyon behind her. Immediately she urged her own mount into a gallop, crouching low over the horse’s neck. She knew that she had one outstanding advantage, the fact that she was much lighter in weight that any of her pursuers. In a straight out run she should be able to outdistance them.
Five minutes into her run, however, she realized that something was wrong. Far from throwing off her pursuers they seemed to be holding their own and perhaps even gaining. She had no idea why her horse was so slow, but she knew that she had to think of something else to avoid capture. At a narrowing of the canyon her Elven sight spotted and small rise that led to a stand of pines. Without another thought she turned off the trail, rode into the trees and dismounted, holding her horse’s muzzle, and hoping that it would not greet its fellows as they rode past.
Her pursuers thundered past, leaving a huge cloud of dust. Still puzzled by the fact that they had caught up to her so quickly, Delendria remounted and turned her horse back onto the road. She had no choice now but to head back the way she had come. It wouldn’t take her pursuers long to determine that she had turned off the track somewhere. Her only advantage was that they would not be able to see the tracks of her horse in the dark.
It was then that she realized that all the riders had not passed her by. Coming toward her were several more, and now she realized why the other riders had caught her so easily. The men coming toward her were towing several horses with empty saddles. Her pursuers had ridden their mounts into a state of exhaustion and then changed mounts. She cursed her stupidity for not doing the same. With two mounts she would almost certainly have been able to outdistance her pursuers. Now she had to run for her life on a horse that was nearly spent.
She turned at right angles to the road and attempted to ride the horse up the steep embankment flanking the road. It turned out to be a very poor maneuver. Already winded from its first gallop, Delendria’s horse stumbled and then reared back on its hind legs as it fought for balance. The Elven maiden threw herself from the animal’s back just before it crashed back down on the road.
Delendria hit the ground and rolled, coming to her feet in a single fluid movement. She found herself staring into a half circle of horsemen, one of whom she recognized as Ben Aben.
“So we have caught our little fox,” he laughed. “It’s time to put her in a cage.” Strangely enough he did not sound angry, but Delendria did not wait around to be captured. Hopeless as she knew it was, she took to her heels, heading for the steep slope that had stymied her horse.
There was a thunder of hooves and just before she reached the beginning of the slope, Ben Aben’s horse slammed into her. The one hundred pound Elf had no chance against the one thousand pound horse. She was sent head over heels into the dust of the road and before she could regain her feet a half dozen pairs of hands laid hold of her. She came up struggling, but neither Ben Aben nor his men were interested in a fair fight. They simply grabbed each of her arms and legs and lifted her off her feet. Delendria realized immediately that her cause was lost. She could not hope to cope with the strength of four Men. Without offering any resistance she allowed her captors to bind her arms and legs.
Ben Aben’s men stood her on her feet in front of their master. “Well, little one,” Ben Aben said, “you have taught me one thing, and that is never to leave you alone. You have given me an interesting night’s entertainment, but now it is time to return to camp.” He motioned to his men and she was slung over the back of the horse she had stolen. Tied in place she was led ignominiously back to camp.
The trip back took much longer than the trip out. It gave Delendria plenty of time to think about her fate. She shivered when she thought about what Ben Aben had done to the Dwarf who has disobeyed her. But somehow something in the way Ben Aben had laughed when he had spoken to her made her think that she would not face so severe a punishment. He almost seemed amused by her attempt to escape. Perhaps the humiliation of being brought back to camp on the back of a horse would be considered punishment enough. She could only hope.
Asharia stumbled forward behind the donkey. She didn’t have much choice. It was either that or be dragged. Steelforge had made it clear that if she fell he wouldn’t bother stopping for her and she took him at his word. But she was reaching the end of her endurance. The brutal rape she had been forced to endure earlier in the day had taken a good deal out of her. More and more she had to force her sweat-covered body forward.
However, she feared stopping even more than she feared the forced march. Steelforge had promised her a repeat of her brutal experience as soon as they made camp and she was desperate to put that off as long as possible. Thus it was that she fell to her knees as the brutal Dwarf called a halt.
“What be the matter, ye Elven whore?” Steelforge growled. “A little walk done ye in?”
“Let the lass alone,” Firetong intervened. “She be no Dwarf. She be not used to such treatment. Drivin’ her like this will kill her.”
“I’ll be drivin’ that tight cunt alright,” Steelforge sneered. “But I take yer meaning. I’ll not want to wear out me toy right away.” He untied the rope connecting Asharia to the donkey and jerked her forward. “We be staying here tonight. Get yerself cleaned up.”
Asharia noticed what she had not seen before; that Steelforge had stopped by a small pool of water fed by a small mountain stream. Desperate for water she staggered toward it and fell on her belly, lapping the water like a cat.
Steelforge watched her for a few seconds and then moved next to her. He prodded her painfully in the ribs with his iron-shod boot. “I said clean yerself up. Ye stink and yer covered with filth.”
Asharia did not reply that much of the filth was due to being raped by the Dwarf. Dried blood smeared her thighs and her sweat-soaked body was covered dust from the road. She forced herself to her feet. She was dressed in the remnants of her badly torn clothing, but she did not remove it. Instead she plunged into the pool.
The water was shockingly cold, but she had no intention of clambering back out before she had washed the evidence of her violation from her body. Ducking her head she did her best to shed the dust of the road; then she rubbed her body everywhere she could see evidence of her dishonour.
She stayed in the water until her body shook from the cold. Waiting for her on the bank was Steelforge and she couldn’t stand facing him again. However, it was Firetong who got her out.
“Come lass,” the Dwarf called. “It be no good to escape one peril just to freeze to death. Come out afore I have to come in after ye.”
The fact that Firetong was weighted down with chain convinced her to do as he said. She did not want the death of the Dwarf by drowning to be on her conscience and she knew that he would probably carry out his threat to come in after her.
Steelforge stood staring at her dripping body as she clambered out of the pool. The water-soaked rags of what once had been her clothing did little to conceal her body. She was very conscious of the lust in his eyes as he looked her over, but to her surprise he made no move to molest her as he had done earlier in the day.
“Ye be in need of rest as Firetong says,” he grunted. Moving to one of the packhorses he rummaged in one of the packs and pulled out some clothing. He tossed it at her feet. “Put these on. They be better than the rags ye be wearing.”
As he spoke he stepped toward her and cut the ropes binding her wrists. Unfortunately Asharia was in no shape to take advantage of the fact that she was no longer tied. She could barely stand up and she was shivering uncontrollably. Realizing that her captor was not going to look away Asharia stepped out of her sodden rags and pulled on the clothing he had given her.
The shirt and pair of pants was far too big for her, but the clothing covered her shivering body and helped her to recover from her frigid bath. Steelforge tossed her a length of rope. “Here,” he ordered. “Cinch in them clothes.”
Asharia used the rope as directed, tying it about her waist in order to hold her pants in place. Steelforge had not provided her with any footwear to protect her badly bruised feet and she guessed that he probably wasn’t going to. That was confirmed a few seconds later when he produced a short length of chain which he secured about her neck with a heavy padlock. The chain he used was nowhere near the weight of the chain he had used on Firetong, but it was more than enough to hold her, especially when he padlocked the other end of the chain to a nearby tree.
Having secured his female captive Steelforge then went about setting up camp. Both Asharia and Firetong sank to the ground. The Elf looked at her fellow captive.
Firetong, for all his strength, appeared about ready to collapse. The weight of chain he was carrying was probably double Asharia’s one hundred pounds and with his hands chained to his feet he was forced to walk in a stooped position. Asharia found herself wondering why Steelforge had taken the older Dwarf prisoner but was afraid to ask, for fear it would anger their captor, but Firetong seemed to guess her thoughts. As Steelforge moved a little farther away from them he spoke.
“That little bugger be my nephew, but I be not proud of the relationship. He be no true Dwarf. He deflowered my eldest daughter and got her with child and then refused to acknowledge his get. We Dwarfs be a close-marrying race, but not that close. To make matters worse he drew a blade on me when I confronted him. That’s how he got that nose. For that he was exiled from the clan. The bastard vowed he’d get even and I guess he has. But don’t worry lass, I’ll find a way out of this.”
Asharia fervently hoped that the last statement was correct. She didn’t think she could survive much more in the way of Steelforge’s attentions.
Delendria tried to shoo away the flies that swarmed around her. They were a constant torment, as was the rocking of the cart she rode. She would have much rather been on horseback. At least then she would have been able to kick the horse into an occasional trot in an effort to lose them.
Instead she was forced to sweat it out in the cage. It was a humbling and uncomfortable way to travel. The cage was perched on top of one of the carts and was pulled by four donkeys, but it moved at the slowest possible rate of speed. Her position in the slave caravan was right behind the Dwarfs. Heavily chained, they shuffled along at a snail’s pace and yet managed to kick up a suffocating could of dust that had Delendria giving in to sporadic fits of coughing.
The cage itself was small, barely four feet tall and she was forced to sit and put up with the jarring of the cart or stand hunched over, clinging to the wooden bars in order to keep her balance. No food or water was provided and she was forced to wait until Ben Aben deemed it necessary for the Dwarfs or the animals to drink.
And then there was the heat. Since her recapture Ben Aben’s caravan had descended the mountain pass for half a day until they reached a large, open and seemingly endless expanse of grass. The temperature had risen steadily as the elevation had dropped until it was now unpleasantly hot. It was something that Delendria was not used to. The high ranges where the Shebaria lived and trained were only rarely subject to really hot weather, and Delendria suffered accordingly. It would have been even worse if Ben Aben had not ordered that a piece of canvas be secured to the top of the cage as a sun shade. By moving around the cage she could keep out of the sun during all except the early morning and late afternoon hours.
Every now and then Ben Aben rode by to look in on her. On those occasions he never spoke a word; just looked at her with his piercing dark eyes and then rode on. It had been the same from the time he had recaptured her. He said nothing about her escape attempt or any form of punishment, but upon the return to camp he had ordered the cage built and she had spent most of her time in it from that point on.
She had finally decided that the cage was her punishment. Apparently Ben Aben did not want her flogged other otherwise brutalized, instead she got the cage, which as time wore on, she came to view as extremely unpleasant punishment.
To make matters worse it was definably getting hotter. The change in the vegetation definitely confirmed this. It had gone from grasses to scrub and now she saw that there were strange leafless trees and shrubs, from which protruded long spines. She had heard of the strange lands where almost nothing grew. Deserts they were called. But she had never expected to see one. A land so dry could not possibly support enough food for a gryphon, and she realized with a sinking heart that if Ben Aben was indeed taking her into a desert then it would be next to impossible for any of her kin to find her. It appeared that if escape from her dire predicament was possible then she was going to have to do it herself.
Asharia plodded along behind, Sima, as she had named the donkey. She had gotten to know the beast well enough to give it a name; or rather she had gotten to know the back end of the beast. Ahead of her Steelforge rode his horse at a slow walk. Apparently he had decided that running his Elven captive into the ground didn’t make much sense it he wanted to have some fun with her later. Accordingly, they went at a pace that Asharia could handle.
She was walking better now, especially since Steelforge had given her a pair of decent sandals to protect her feet. Walking was something that Shebaria did not have much experience with. Although highly trained, and very fit, a long march through the wilderness was not something she was used to. She would have been in much better spirits if she had not known that Steelforge would probably rape her again at the end of the day.
The Dwarf was taking no chances on her escaping. She wore the iron chain he had padlocked about her neck, the other end secured to Sima who ambled along, not the least concerned about the plight of the Elf chained to him. Asharia would have traded places with him in an instant.
Asharia had no idea where Steelforge was taking her. They were trekking deeper and deeper into the mountains. She could only guess that he hoped to avoid any pursuit by going so far into the wilderness that he would never be found. What purpose that would serve she had no idea, but she was not looking forward to spending any time alone with him. The short time she had known him was more than long enough.
The mountain trail suddenly narrowed. On either side walls of stone extended almost straight up, leaving just a narrow space hundreds of feet above them through which could be seen the blue of the sky. Steelforge turned. “Let’s see yer Elf friends find ye where we be going.” With that he turned back and marched into he narrow defile, his two captives reluctantly following.
The narrow defile persisted for several hundred feet, twisting and turning left and right. Asharia wondered what could have created such an impressive crack in the mountainside. It was certainly not made by any race she knew as the sides of the defile showed no signs of tool. Nature itself must have created it.
Near the end of the crack it widened slightly to about six feet and then ended in something even stranger than the defile. It was a heavy iron bound door set into the rock. That it had been made by a Dwarf or Dwarfs was almost beyond doubt as it was only about five feet high. Anything built by Men would almost certainly have been taller.
Grinning his mirthless grin, Steelforge turned and looked at his captives as if in triumph. Then he produced a large iron key and inserting it into the lock twisted it. The lock mechanism rasped loudly then with a click it released. Steelforge grabbed a large ring in the door and with a grunt of effort and a shriek of rusty iron hinges the door swung open, revealing a black hole.
Sima made quite a fuss about entering the dark opening, but Steelforge dragged the protesting donkey in and Asharia with him. Inside it was completely dark and not even her Elven eyes could see more than a few feet. Steelforge laughed, the sound echoing in the darkness. “Now you Elven bitch. “Let’s see if anyone can find us here.”
There was a flash as Steelforge struck a spark. And then several more until finally there was a lick of flame and then a much brighter light as a pine torch flared to life. The flickering light revealed that they were in a narrow cave that much resembled the narrow defile through which they had just traveled. It extended far above their heads and into the darkness.
Steelforge pushed past Asharia and Firetong to the door. With another scream of protesting iron he pushed it closed, sealing them into the narrow cave. Then returning to his original lead position he stalked off into the darkness the torch flickering in his hand.
Without any choice Asharia and Firetong followed. Asharia now found that she was quite cold. The surrounding stone seemed to suck the life out of her and the Dwarven garments Steelforge had provided did little to keep her warm and she was soon shivering violently. Fortunately, however, Steelforge seemed to be in something of a hurry and he pushed on down the rough and narrow passage at double the usual pace. The increased activity soon had Asharia puffing and she was soon warmed up.
They walked on through the confining underground defile for several hours with never a let up. The walk was made doubly arduous by the unevenness of the cave floor and the fact that it was littered with broken chunks of rock. In the pathetically weak light of the torch most of the obstacles could not be seen until the last second and both Asharia and Firetong frequently found themselves on their knees as they tripped over one boulder or another.
Asharia took this hardship in silence. Typically, Firetong did not. “Slow down ye stupid mule. Think we be bats? Ye’ll kill the lass driving her over rocks like that.”
Although Steelforge’s reply was phrased in his usual foul language, he did slow down a step and both Asharia and Steelforge stumbled less.
With no light to keep track of time, the trek through the dark defile seemed to go on endlessly, but suddenly Steelforge gave a grunt of satisfaction and came to a halt. He stuck the stub of the torch into a crack in the cave wall and picked up a second torch and lit it from the first. The extra light revealed that the narrow defile had opened up into a much larger cave. How much larger was lost in the darkness as there was not enough light to reveal all of it.
In the background Asharia could hear a strange murmuring sound. At first she could not identify it as the large cavern tended to distort any sound, but she finally realized that it sounded very much like a river. Her attention was diverted by Steelforge, however. The Dwarf Began to pull his gear from his horse. “This be far as we go today.” In the flickering light she could see his eyes turn toward her. The expression on his face made her shudder.
It didn’t take long to set up camp. Deep in the caves there was no need to construct a shelter. There were also no trees to shackled Firetong to, but Steelforge dealt with that by driving a heavy iron spike into a crack in the floor of the cave and chaining his uncle to it. It would take a special tool to removed the spike and it was obvious that he was not going anywhere fast.
All during the time camp was being set up Asharia’s mind was on Steelforge. There was little doubt about his intentions, and her stomach was in knots the entire time. However, he seemed to be in no hurry, as he went about getting “supper” ready.
Asharia thought of it as supper, as it was the third meal of the day. There was actually no way of telling what time it was. Despite his brutal personality Steelforge always fed his captives well. Apparently he wanted both Firetong and Asharia strong if for no other purpose than to make sure that they kept up with him on the march. But Asharia knew that he also wanted her strong for something else.
The brutal dwarf had not touched her since the day he had deflowered her, although he had made no secret of his intention to do so at the first opportunity. Apparently, however, he considered her too weak after her first session for him to repeat the brutal act. Now, however, the look he had given her made it plain that her freedom from his attentions was at and end, and Asharia was terrified.
She assessed her chances against the Dwarf. He weighed at least twice as much as she did and was probably more than three or four times as strong. Without a weapon she would only get one chance to get in a disabling blow before the Dwarf retaliated. She did have one advantage. She was much more agile than Steelforge. If she had room to move she could probably keep away from him. Whether that would be enough to win a battle, however, was far from certain. And she had no chance as long as her hands were bound and she wore the chain about her neck.
Unfortunately it did not appear that Steelforge was likely to release her from the chain. He kept her within his sight at all times and kept her hands bound in front of her, even stopping to check them when on the march. The only relief from her bonds was when they made the occasional stop. At that time he would untie her wrists, but not before hobbling her ankles first. The he would allow her to shuffle off to attend to her bodily functions, but even then she was not permitted to go where he could not see her. It was a humiliating experience and it kept her firmly under Steelforge’s control.
Camp was set up. And supper was served. During the meal Steelforge never took his eyes from Asharia, watching her with an unnerving stare until she was almost ready to scream. But she kept calm, choking down her meal until finally Steelforge got to his feet.
“Ye be coming with me,” he said, jerking on her chain.
Asharia had no choice but to follow. Taking the only torch Steelforge moved off into the darkness, leading Asharia like a dog on a leash. As they moved away from the camp the sound of the river became louder and louder. Eventually the torchlight revealed the glint of water.
Steelforge stopped at the edge of the underground river. Even in the weak light of the torch Asharia could see that it was an impressive stream, the water flowing swiftly past the rocky banks. Steelforge turned and led her a short distance along it to where a large rock created an eddy and a bit of a backwater. Still holding the chain Steelforge removed the ropes from her wrists.
“Strip off yer clothes and then bathe,” he ordered.
Asharia stood rubbing her wrists. Her hands were completely numb and she knew that this was not the time to confront the Dwarf. As soon as she was able to get her fingers to work she untied the rope holding up her oversized trousers and let them fall. And then she removed her shirt.
Steelforge watched her the entire time, but there was little Asharia could do about it. He grunted as her shirt was dropped to the ground. “Hmmpph. Ye be a right pretty little cunt. I be looking forward to bedding ye as soon as yer washed.”
He said nothing about washing himself, and Asharia doubted that he would, since the Dwarf seemed to have a strong aversion to water. Reluctantly she stepped into the water and began to do as Steelforge had ordered.
As she expected the water was numbingly cold, but she ducked herself until she was completely immersed. She emerged from the waist deep water gasping from the shock of the frigid water. She now faced a dilemma. The brief bath had washed most of the dust and sweat from her body. Staying any longer, would soon have her in almost a state of shock from the cold, but if she emerged from the river Steelforge had made more than plain what he intended to do to her.
Her mind was made up for her with a jerk of the chain. “Come out,” Steelforge ordered. “Ye be clean enough to suit me.” He jerked on the chain again and Asharia staggered from the subterranean river to the bank.
For a few seconds the Dwarf just stood watching her, his eyes filled with undisguised lust as the thousands of tiny droplets of water picked up the torchlight. Asharia was very conscious of her cold-rigid nipples as the lecherous Dwarf surveyed her the way a miser looks at his hoard of gold. With a sudden jerk on the chain he forced her to her knees, and then before she could move, pushed her to the cave floor and pinned her there. While she struggled fruitlessly he pulled both arms behind her back and then bound her wrists.
“Now I be taking what’s mine,” Steelforge growled as he jerked her to her feet and marched her back toward the camp.
Asharia shivered both from the cold and from fear as they neared the campsite. This brought a low rumble from Steelforge. “Don’t be worrying ye Elven bitch; I be warming ye up soon enough.”
Reaching the campsite, Steelforge seized her shoulders and pushed her down, arching her across the saddle of his horse. With a laugh he kicked her legs apart and squatted between them, and then he hurriedly began to remove his trousers.
Squirming violently, Asharia tried to sit up and then when Steelforge pushed her back down attempted to twist her body off the saddle. He pinned her easily with one hand while he finished removing his belt and untying the laces holding his trousers closed. Once again his engorged phallus thrust upward, the veins on the huge organ standing out like ropes. Asharia gave a little cry of fear as Steelforge heaved himself on top of her.
The heavy dwarf almost squeezed the breath from her. He stank of sweat and the long accumulation of filth on his unwashed body. Asharia almost gagged at the smell, but then she had something for more serious to worry about as he pressed her down and cupped both her breasts with his huge hands.
He seemed determined to make her scream as he squeezed the firm flesh between his powerful fingers. She arched back away from him, digging her heels into the stone floor and raising her pelvis. It presented Steelforge with the perfect target.
Asharia screamed as the Dwarf thrust into her, his heavy organ penetrating her suddenly and deeply. The unexpected pain caused her to writhe in agony. Aharia felt like a stick of wood being split by an axe, and in truth the brutal Dwarf was not much more subtle. Still holding her bruised breasts he hammered into her again and again, making her entire body shake and whipping her long golden hair as her head jerked with every thrust.
“Ah ye be a tight fuck!” Steelforge grunted. “But I’ll loosen ye up sure enough.”
He emphasized his last comment by shifting his grips from her breasts to her hips. Holding her tightly he buried himself deep within her and then ignoring her cries of pain used her until he finally shot his Dwarven seed deep within her. As he lifted himself from her panting body Asharia wondered with horror whether it was possible for a Dwarf to impregnate an Elf. If it was, how long would it be before Steelforge had her with child? The additional fear sent tears to her eyes.
Steelforge laughed. “A little Dwarven iron goes a long way to taming an Elf, don’t it, girl?” He stood above her, pulling up his trousers, a leering grin on his battered face. Finished dressing, he grabbed the chain about her neck and led her to the place he had set aside as a bed. He lay down and pulled her beside him. “Tonight ye keep me warm. And maybe later we do it again.” Placing his arms about her he pulled her close, keeping her as much a prisoner as if she had been chained hand and foot. As the snores of the Dwarf thundered in her ears she wept.
Delendria stared in amazement at the landscape before her. A river in a desert! Who would have thought such a thing possible? For all of that it was still not very appealing being incised in a deep gorge that was so high above the water that it was impossible for any of the local vegetation to reach it. As a result, the desert landscape persisted.
She had to admit that the view into the gorge was spectacular. She moved as close to the bars as she could so that she could see deep into the gorge. It was an almost sheer drop to the blue snake of the river, but the heights held no fear for Delendria. Shebaria were so used to heights that it would take more than a mere half mile drop to concern her.
“Enjoying the view, my lioness?”
It was Ben Aben. Her captor rarely used her real name. Ever since her attempted escape he had begun referring to her as a lioness, and although Delendria had never seen such a beast she was secretly flattered. However, she was far from showing the man who had raped her any satisfaction at his compliment.
She also refused to speak with him. It was a weak form of defiance, but it was the only one she had. Instead of replying she calmly turned her back on him. Ben Aben gave a low laugh and spurred away, but as he rode off he sent one last remark her way. “Tonight, my lioness, I will see if I can make you purr.”
Delendria almost spat a reply at him, but maintained her silence. She knew that she was taking a chance defying her “master” this way. Sharp in her memory was the punishment he had meted out to the Dwarf. She had no wish to be flogged to death, but it was difficult to control her anger toward the man who had kidnapped and raped her, and who had taken her sister from her and enslaved Fire and Sky.
She worried hourly about Asharia and the two gryphons. She knew the latter could not live much longer. They had eaten and drunk nothing for almost three days and as for her sister she had no knowledge at all as to what had happened to her. In her darkest moments she was certain that Asharia was dead. Why else would she not be in the caravan? It seemed unlikely that a man like Ben Aben would overlook such a prize. At other times she had a strong feeling that her sister was alive, but in terrible danger.
Unfortunately, there was no way of confirming that feeling. For all she knew Asharia was long dead, her body left to rot at the site of the ambush, but something inside her told her that was not the case. She and Asharia shared a bond that went beyond the ordinary. She was certain that would have known if her sister had died.
Her musings were interrupted by a change in the scenery. The trail they were traveling had suddenly dipped, heading down into the spectacular gorge they had been paralleling. It was at this point that the ride atop the donkey cart became really interesting. The trail narrowed to perilous dimensions. Ahead of her Delendria could see that the large wagons hauling the gryphons had their outer wheels barely a wheel’s width from the edge. She held her breath as they edged along, expecting them to topple into the abyss at any second.
Somehow, however, the wagoners kept the wagons and the animals holding them on the narrow track, although there was a terrifying moment as the drivers guided their charges around the first switchback.
The descent into the gorge lasted the remainder of the day. It was dusk when the last of the wagons and carts reached the bottom of the canyon and spilled out onto a wide landing. There was something large floating on the water that Delendria did not recognize. It appeared to be a floating building of some sort although of a shape that she had never seen before. It suddenly struck her that she was looking at a ship, a creation that she had heard about but had never before seen. She realized now why Ben Aben had struck out into the middle of a wasteland.
Although night was falling the work did not stop. One after the other the captive Dwarfs were marched onto the ship, disappearing into a hole in the centre of its deck. Then the gryphons were unloaded, raised by ropes above the deck and lowered into the same hole. Delendria was glad to see them finally reach someplace large enough to hold them. Perhaps now they could be revived and given food and water.
Her turn came last and she was certain that Ben Aben had ordered her last for one final humiliation. Although he could have released her from the cage and allowed her to walk up the gangway like the Dwarfs, she was instead swung over the deck in full view of the crew and the other members of Ben Aben’s expedition and lowered to the deck like so much cargo.
Ben Aben and a five man escort were waiting for her. “Escort the lioness to my cabin,” Ben Aben ordered. “I will join her later.”
The implied threat was not lost on Delendria, nor were the precautions taken by her escort. Her wrists were bound behind her, although not tightly. Apparently the bonds were only temporary and there was no need to tighten the cords until her circulation was cut off. Then a man took each of her arms, and with a man behind, and two in front she was taken to the back of the ship and into a raised section she later learned was called the stern. She was taken down a short flight of stairs, across a narrow hallway and through a heavy door. She found herself inside a large well-lit cabin. The sun was just setting and its rays streamed in through large glass windows located in the far wall.
Just in case Delendria had any notion of escaping through those windows, however, the chain attached to her metal collar was padlocked to a heavy post and then the guards departed.
She was not alone, however. A
young girl stepped forward. She
was about Delendria’s age and had remarkable yellow skin and dark slanted
eyes. Her
Delendria shook her head and replied in Elvish and then Dwarvish, but it was clear the girl spoke neither of those languages. Finally, the girl simply motioned and Delendria understood what she should have seen before. Sitting on the deck was a large copper tub filled with steaming water. Delendria’s chain was just long enough to reach it and she didn’t need much prompting to shed her filthy clothing and sink into the hot water.
It was the first hot bath she had had since leaving the Aerie and she luxuriated in the feeling of the water on her skin. By pointing to herself the girl indicated that her name was Taria. That she was probably a slave went almost without saying, and Delendria reminded herself that she was now one too. She wondered if Taria had served as Ben Aben’s bedmate and though about what it would be like to be forced into a lifetime of sexual servitude. The thought was not a pleasant one.
Fortunately she soon lost herself in the bath. Whatever her other services, Taria was an expert maidservant. She scrubbed the sweat and grime from Delendria’s body and washed and combed her hair, combing it out so that it shone in the light of the large lantern that Taria lit as the sun set. As Delendria stepped out of the bath she was provided with a garment similar to the one Taria wore, with a slight modification. Delendria noted that her dress was fastened at the shoulders with lace ribbons. It made it easy to slip the dress from her simply by untying the ribbons. The implication changed her mood from one of pleasure at being clean again to apprehension. She was clearly being made ready for Ben Aben’s bed.
The fear of what awaited her preyed on her mind through the supper that Taria brought her. She picked at her food, her stomach in knots, and drank a bit too much of the wine that was provided. Unfortunately getting herself slightly drunk did little to ease her tension. Taria sat with her and as if guessing her anxiety offered her various tidbits from the excellent meal of meat, fruit, and vegetables that had been brought to the cabin. Unfortunately, the language barrier prevented any real communication and most of the time Delendria mere stared miserably at the door, anticipating Ben Aben’s arrival at any moment.
As time dragged on, however, she began to wonder if Ben Aben was coming. Taria eventually had to refill the lanterns and as Delendria imbibed more and more wine she became increasingly sleepy, until she was close to falling off her chair. At that point Taria went to the door and called in one of the guards. He produced a key, and unlocked Delendria’s chain, allowing Taria to lead her toward the bed.
Swaying slightly, Delendria allowed the golden-skinned girl to lead her toward the bed. Taria placed a pillow beneath her head and covered her with a light coverlet. With hardly a murmur Delendria drifted off to sleep.
She awoke some time later to the touch of a soft hand on her breast. She had no idea how long she had slept, but only one oil lamp was still burning and the cabin was shrouded in almost complete darkness. So suddenly did she wake up, and in such a state of alarm that she was almost instantly sober as her blood raced through her veins. She found to her surprise that she was in the arms of Taria. Both she and the girl were completely nude.
Delendria gasped in surprise and raised her hands to push the girl away, but two much stronger hands seized her wrists and pulled her arms over her head. “Relax my little lioness. Lie back and let Taria give you pleasure.”
Delendria did exactly the opposite of what Ben Aben suggested. Twisting her body violently she attempted to break free of his grip and sit up. She was brought up short both by Ben Aben’s hands and the iron collar and chain about her neck. Sometime while she slept the chain had been shortened to the point where she could not move her head more than two feet. She could, however, move her feet and the servant girl had to scramble out of the way to keep a foot from striking her in the face.
“You are too much like a cat,” Ben Aben said angrily. Delendria’s resistance seemed to have finally overcome his good humour. Gripping her wrists tightly he wound a silk sash about them and tied her to the chain, securing her arms above her head. Then he moved to the foot of the bed and caught hold of her flailing legs. It took him only a few minutes to secure both her ankles to the posts at the foot of the bed, leaving her lying wide open, her legs spread and her body stretched out full length.
Delendria continued to struggle, but she succeeded only in tiring herself. Given enough time she would have worked herself free, but she doubted that she was going to have that time.
Ben Aben seated himself on the side of the bed, glowering down at her. Delendria’s chest heaved, her perfect upright breasts quivering slightly. Ben Aben lay his left hand on her left breast and slowly ran it over the silken flesh, finishing just a finger’s width above the soft dark triangle that partially hid her sex. He twisted his fingers into the silken curls and then withdrew his hand. He looked at Taria. “Shave her,” he commanded. He spoke both in his own language and that of the Dwarfs for Delendria’s benefit.
The golden-skinned girl smiled slightly and got to her feet, while Delendria jerked at the bonds. The action only tightened the knots, leaving her desperate to escape.
Taria returned in a few moments carrying a silver bowl, a shaving brush and soap, and a bright steel razor. As she set the toiletries down on a table next to the bed Ben Aben gently pushed Delendria into the bed. “Lie still my little lioness. You wouldn’t want to get cut down there.”
Delendria ignored him as Taria used the water and soap to create a bubbly lather. The water was cold, but the girl succeeded in whipping up sufficient foam. Swirling the brush in the lather she applied it to Delendria’s nether region and then picked up the razor. Delendria was frantic at this further humiliation, but she was not stupid. At the razor began to stroke her skin she went completely still. She noticed as Taria shaved her that the golden-skinned girl had also been shaved. There was not a hair on her lower body.
“Ah, my little lioness, perhaps I will tame you after all.” Ben Aben placed his hand on her belly and bent his head to kiss her nipples. Delendria arched her body slightly at the touch, but made no sudden moves.
Taria was very good at her job. Without drawing a single drop of blood, she shaved her clean, returning Delendria’s nether region to the state of a newborn. Ben Aben ran his fingers over the newly shaved region, and Delendria controlled the impulse to arch her body only with difficulty. She had never felt so vulnerable or so ashamed of her helplessness. She readied herself for another painful and brutal violation of her body.
What happened next caught her off her guard. Ben Aben spoke to Taria again, this time not bothering to translate. But his words became obvious within seconds. With a slight smile on her face Taria slid her naked body over Delendria’s, her lips seeking the Elven maiden’s nipples. Delendria gasped in surprise and something more. She had not expected this, nor had she expected the incredible sensation that ran through her body as the golden-skinned girl worked her magic.
Delendria almost had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out in pleasure. The sensation was so erotic she had to fight not to arch her body in an attempt to seek closer contact with her forced lover. She could not, however, control her breathing. She gasped loudly as Taria worked her way down her trembling body. “Now my little lioness,” Ben Aben grinned, “you will learn the ways of love and obedience.”
Delendria’s breathing quickened as Taria did things to her body she would not have believed possible. The girl was skilled beyond imagining and Delendria’s unwilling body began to respond in spite of her attempted resistance. Only her fear of what was to come kept her from moaning in pleasure, but Ben Aben seemed able to read her like a scroll. As his fingers played over her now swollen nipples she could not prevent a slight cry from escaping her lips.
Ben Aben let his silken robe drop to the floor. He was impressive aroused, and as he took Taria’s place between her thighs, Delendria moaned in fear.
It was then that he took her, sliding between her parted thighs while Taria continued her magic from the side. Dementia quivered in fear at the expected pain, but to her surprise and shame Ben Aben entered her smoothly. He still felt huge inside her, but there was none of the painful tearing that had accompanied the loss of her virginity. Instead there was a feeling of pure pleasure as both he and Taria continued to stimulate her in every area of her body they could touch.
She groaned and then arched her back, straining at the silken ties that bound her, as her body began to respond in ways beyond her control. “Stop fighting, my little lioness,” Ben Aben whispered in her ear as he thrust even deeper into her. “Let your body rejoice.”
At that moment Taria did something to her that sent an incredible sexual shock through her. Delendria’s resistance collapsed and she screamed in ecstasy, her love canal contracting in a powerful orgasm. If she could have she would have pressed her body tightly against Ben Aben, demanding more, but her bondage prevented that. And then to her partial dismay Ben Aben pulled out of her.
She lay panting on the bed while Ben Aben turned to Taria. To her surprise and mortification he parted the golden-skinned girl’s legs and drove deep within her. Unable to escape she was forced to watch while Ben Aben and Taria made passionate love for the next hour.
It was as if her captor had forgotten she existed, although she suspected it was more than that. Ben Aben and Taria gave her an exhibition of love-making that showed her the true passion that could exist between a man and a woman.
By this time the oil lamps had burned so low that they cabin was almost dark. Delendria’s Elven eyes easily picked out the two lovers and watched with interest as both reached sexual climax. They both obviously enjoyed the experience, and Delendria found herself wondering if Taria had been forced the first time the way she had been.
Smelling strongly of sex, Taria and Ben Aben lay gasping on the bed. They were locked in one another’s arms, but after a minute Ben Aben rolled closer to Delendria and bending over her kissed her nipples. Placing his hand on her hip he moved his face close to hers and spoke. “Next time, my lioness, you will share our love.” As he finished speaking he lay down, encircling both Delendria and Taria with his arms. Then pulling both young women close, he closed his eyes and slept.
Unable to escape, Delendria felt the warmth of the two bodies next to her. Their regular breathing indicated that they were both asleep. For awhile she lay awake wondering if her fate was to be the same as Taria’s. Would she spend the rest of her life as Ben Aben’s sex slave? Strangely enough the thought did not keep her from joining her two bedmates in sleep just a few minutes later.
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