Tales of
Erogenia
Based
on the online comic created by J.E. Draft.
Episode 3: The
Chapter
5:
Urtts
Seven days after their defeat
of the slavers a leisurely march across the plains brought Zenaria and her
new companions to the place where the slavers had captured
them. It was an idyllic setting
and by chance one that Sulia regarded as her favourite place in the great
wilderness of the plains. They
took their time, making up for the forced march the slavers had taken them
on.
Zenaria was content with
the slow pace. It gave her and
Varden time to get to know Sulia and the other members of the Urulana, and
she enjoyed learning the names of the various animals and plants that populated
the plains. As she had surmised
she and Varden had walked right past dozens of edible and medicinal plants
and Sulia proved an apt teacher.
Even Varden took an interest.
In spite of his somewhat narrow religious views he was very interested
in all aspects of healing and paid avid attention when Sulia described the
various medicinal plants and their
applications.
And then there was the
hunt. The Urulana hunted with
spears rather than bows; in fact none of them carried a bow and they found
Zenaria’s use of the weapon extremely
interesting. They were even more
impressed when she brought down a massive buffalo with just three well-placed
arrows. The animal was extremely
dangerous to hunt and the fact that she brought it down from a distance of
over fifty yards drew admiring glances.
The huge animal provided
them with enough meat to feed all of them for several days, and by degrees
they eventually reached the beautiful pool and
waterfall. Sulia announced that
they would probably stay there for several days simply because of its natural
beauty. With plenty of food and
abundant water it was a natural resting spot welcomed by
everyone. And it gave then all
a chance to clean the grime from their bodies in the clear waters of the
deep pool.
By this time Varden had
overcome his unnatural aversion to nudity and joined
in. For the first time since
Zenaria had known the knight he seemed oblivious to the naked bodies around
him, in spite of the fact that almost half of them were nubile
females.
It was fortunate that his
attitude had changed as he was now the clear object of desire of most of
the young bare-breasted Urulana women.
As Zenaria had cause to know, Varden’s healing skills had the
sometimes annoying side-effect of restoring
virginity. There had been a little
consternation among the women when they had made this discovery and several
of them seemed determined to have Varden personally restore them to their
original state.
Varden found all of this
attention quite embarrassing.
Zenaria found it amusing.
Rather than igniting the fires of jealousy, it focused her attention
in an entirely different direction.
Toward that of the Urulana
princess.
The attitude of the Urulana
toward sex was surprisingly similar to that of most Erogenians, with one
major exception. Since the leadership
of the tribe passed through the female line Sulia was expected to maintain
her virginity until her consort was chosen to insure that the line of succession
remained unchallenged. However,
it was not expected that the next in line to the throne satisfy herself with
cold baths. She was allowed unlimited
sexual release provided it was with members of the same
sex.
For Zenaria it was a new
experience. In spite of the fact
that there were no restrictions on same sex relationships in her culture
she had never taken a female lover; even though there had been a few moments
when she had been strongly tempted.
But Sulia was undeniably special.
Taller than Zenaria by almost a hand, she moved with the grace of
a gazelle, her long smooth muscles rippling under her dark brown
skin. Her breasts were high and
firm, barely swaying as she moved and topped with nipples the colour of
obsidian. Her black hair was
divided into three long braids that joined in the middle of her back before
falling to just above the curve of her
buttocks. It swayed most
provocatively as she moved, drawing the eye to the erotic movement of her
slender hips and narrow waist. Nude
from the waist up her lower body was covered only by a thin skirt of leopard
skin. Her feet were bare and
her ankles decorated with several small gold
chains. She wore similar
ornamentation about her neck in addition to gold bands on each of her
arms. A single gold band circled
her brow indicating her status.
Her features were strong,
with full lips, a wide nose, and high cheekbones; giving her a rather haughty
appearance that Zenaria found intriguing.
And when she looked at Zenaria the invitation was
undeniable.
Zenaria, however, held
back. She was not yet ready to
commit to a new relationship until she understood the customs of the Urulana
a bit better. She had no wish
to find herself entangled in a liaison from which it might be difficult extricate
herself. And then there was
Varden. She and the knight had
been lovers only a very brief time and she had no wish to strain their
relationship. And so although
she made no effort to distance herself from Sulia she did nothing to encourage
her either.
The situation remained unchanged
during their stay at the waterfall.
She and Varden, however, stayed apart; partly due to the knight’s
reluctance to make love when surrounded by so many strangers and partly due
to the fact that both Zenaria and Varden seemed to feel that their relationship
was changing.
The knight’s reluctance
to perform in the presence of others was not shared by the
Urulana. Eventually most of the
Urulana women gave up on Varden, giving in to their normal instincts, which
they had no trouble displaying in full sight of everyone
else. To Varden it was a shocking
display of immorality and made him even more reluctant to engage in such
activity. Eventually only one
of the Urulana maintained her interest in the
knight. Her name was Kindra and
coincidently she was the terrified victim the slavers had chosen to satisfy
their lust. Perhaps because Varden
had healed her of all evidence of the rape or for some other reason she remained
determined to draw him into her bedroll.
Eventually the Urulana men gave up on her and left her to her pursuit
of the knight.
Three days after reaching
the waterfall, they broke camp and headed toward the
“They’ve always
been that way,” Sulia answered.
“I have never thought about
it. It is the way things have
always been. The way Rahlu made
them.”
Rahlu was the name of the
primary Urulanan god; one who not surprisingly, resided in the
One question she had not
asked was answered four days after they had left the
waterfall. They had just made
camp and were sitting around the campfire enjoying the smell of their latest
hunting success; a large eland Zenaria’s arrows had brought
down. There was a sudden shift
in the ground beneath them flowed by a low rumble from the direction of the
Sulia got to her feet along
with everyone else. Looking toward
the Mountain she crossed her arms over her breasts, an action that Zenaria
had come to recognize as paying tribute to her
god. “Rahlu speaks,”
the dark-skinned princess said.
Zenaria looked toward the
mountain, her eyes widening in surprise.
The top of the mountain, stood stark against the purple of twilight,
a strange orange glow emanating from its
summit. Even as she watched the
glow changed, erupting into a fiery splash against the
sky. The display was followed
by a rumble that was even louder this
time.
Zenaria felt a chill run
up her spine. She had never seen
or ever expected to see such a sight.
“What is it?” she asked even as an even larger explosion
occurred, throwing glowing fragments high above the top of the
mountain.
“Rahlu is angry,”
Sulia replied. “Probably
because I failed in my leadership.
He seeks atonement for my failure.”
“I don’t
understand,” Zenaria replied.
“What failure?”
“I led my people into
a trap a novice could have avoided.
We were captured and humiliated and Kindra was
raped. Rahlu is displeased and
I must atone.”
Zenaria
understood. “It is like
the
cha,” she
said. “You must restore
the balance.”
“I do not understand
this ‘cha,’ Sulia replied.
“But yes. I must
restore the balance or Rahlu will be
angry.”
Zenaria did not ask Sulia
how she was to restore the balance, but she kept it in mind as the great
mountain continued to roar. The
incredible display went on all night, increasing in intensity and making
it impossible to sleep. Each
eruption was followed by a thunderous roar and the shaking of the
ground. Finally toward morning
Sulia decided they might as well have an early breakfast and then break
camp. With the ground continually
shaking they made no attempt to cook anything, but ate cold meat left over
from supper and tubers and greens they had gathered the day
before. By the time they had
finished eating it was light enough to set off.
They continued their upward
journey ignoring the fact that each step took them closer to the roaring
mountain, but Sulia mentioned that such activity from the
Reaching one of the deep
chasms that seemed to radiate from the mountain the party
halted. At the bottom was the
usual small stream. Sulia looked
upstream, an expression of uncertainty on her regal
features. “What is it?”
Zenaria asked.
“I’m not sure,”
Sulia answered. “We must
cross here or trek for four days to go around it, but I have a feeling that
something is not quite right.”
Taciturn as always, Zenaria
waited for Sulia to continue.
Finally the Urulana princess
spoke. “I will go down alone
and make sure that it is safe. Then
the rest can follow.”
Zenaria shook her
head. “I am going as
well. And do not try to stop
me. No one faces danger for me;
be it known or unknown.”
Sulia frowned, but
nodded. “We go
then.”
Wait, princess,” Varden
said, stepping forward. “You
go nowhere without me.”
“In all fairness, Sir
Knight,” Zenaria replied.
“I have seen how you climb.
It is better that you wait here and let those who are more nimble
go first. And say nothing about
letting a woman go first. Besides
the danger Sulia senses may come from this direction and your fighting ability
may be needed to safeguard us as we make the
climb.”
The last statement seemed
to mollify the knight. He nodded
and stepped back while Sulia and Zenaria
prepared. Zenaria took her sword
and knife, leaving behind her bow and quiver for the
climb. It would have been a most
difficult climb if the ground had kept shaking, but for the moment it seemed
to have stopped. Even so the
rock was sheer, dropping several dozen body lengths to the bottom of the
canyon.
Each of the climbers was
secured by a grass rope. Even
so, Zenaria climbed carefully, wary of the fact that the ground might start
shaking at any moment. She had
no wish to endure the rope burns that would be inflicted if she lost her
hold and had to be caught by the rope.
Side by side they descended
into the canyon, wary of the danger that Sulia had
sensed. They were halfway down
when something strange occurred.
The small stream below them suddenly began to swell, increasing in
just a few heartbeats from a trickle to a full forced flow and then increased
even more, growing rapidly to a raging torrent.
Perched high above the stream
Zenaria watched, wondering if this was the danger the Urulana princess had
sensed. By now the stream had
risen almost two body lengths from its original level and was moving with
such power that it was now impossible to
cross. It seemed that the party
would have to make the four day detour after
all.
Zenaria began to climb back
toward the rim when a low rumbling sound distracted
her. Looking upstream she saw
a sight that had her scrambling higher as quickly as she could safely
move. Roaring down the canyon
was a wall of water that filled it almost to the rim, and it was moving faster
that a galloping horse.
Zenaria grabbed the rope
just before the water caught her and clung desperately as the water pulled
her away from the canyon wall and out into the raging
torrent. She was vaguely aware
of Sulia being swept out with her and then she was fighting for her life
as the water attempted to rip her away from her
lifeline.
As she gripped the rope,
the powerful current pulled her straight out so that her body was almost
parallel, her head facing into the
current. As the water surged
past and over her it tried to pull her under so that she was partially submerged
and forced to hold her breath. Each
time this happened she somehow managed to kick and pull her way back to the
surface and catch her breath only to have the water pull her under
again. Heavy objects, swept up
by the current, smashed into her, almost breaking her grip, but she held
on with all her strength, knowing that to lose her grip was almost certain
death.
The raging water swirled
her in circles, spinning her like a top as she gripped the rope and then
something unbelievably heavy slammed into
her. The blow knocked the breath
from her body and tore away her grip on the rope, but it hardly
mattered. An instant later the
rope snapped, but not before wrenching her body violently as the rope around
her waist cut into her and then she was ripped out into the
current. Flailing desperately,
her hands caught hold of the object that had slammed into her, the branches
of a large tree. Wrapping her
arms around a branch she clung with all of her remaining strength as the
tree was hurled down the canyon, twisting and turning in the churning
waters.
Zenaria fought for her life
as the tree spun in the writhing currents, sometimes swirling her above the
surface of the water and sometimes ducking her
under. Each time she surfaced
she gasped for air before being plunged beneath the
surface. As she came up she tried
to look for Sulia, but the Urulana princess was nowhere to be seen, leaving
Zenaria with a hollow feeling in her
stomach.
It seemed the wild river
ride lasted forever, even though it could not have been more than a few hundred
heartbeats. During one of her
brief emergences from the wild water Zenaria caught sight of the canyon walls
and realized the canyon was narrowing.
The effect was to increase the velocity of the already rapidly moving
torrent. And then Zenaria heard
a sound that reverberated even above the sound of the already roaring
stream. It was a familiar enough
sound; that of water pouring over a
ledge. Glancing ahead she saw
that the river suddenly seemed to end, but helpless she could do nothing
as she was swept toward the edge of the waterfall.
When the tree trunk suddenly
jarred to a halt she almost lost her
grip. But even though the water
tore at her body she clung to the tree with the tenacity of a
wolverine. The tree had wedged
itself across the canyon, perched just on the edge of the falls as the water
roared over the drop before disappearing in a cloud of
spray.
As she hung on she caught
sight of a slight movement. Just
five yards away a dark brown arm clung to a slender
branch. The rest of Sulia was
hidden by the trunk of the tree, but it was apparent that she was barely
hanging on. In spite of her weariness
Zenaria moved without thinking, forcing herself to move against the flow
of the water and scrambling along the horizontal trunk until the Urulana
princess was within reach.
Her hand reached
out and clamped down on Sulia’s
wrist. Pulling with all of her
remaining strength she managed to drag the princess toward her until Sulia
could grab hold by herself. Only
then did Zenaria pull herself into a safer position on top of the
trunk.
Wet and exhausted, the two
women sat side by side attempting to regain their strength for the coming
test. They had somehow survived
the flood, but not without some damage.
The longer they sat the more Zenaria realized that her body was covered
with bruises and not a few contusions.
Sulia was in similar condition, although her darker complexion hid
much of the bruising. The test
in question was the escape from their precarious perch.
The tree that had swept
them off the canyon wall had jammed itself just above the
waterfall. It rocked unsteadily
in the flow of water, threatening to break loose and follow the water over
the falls. Almost certainly Zenaria
and Sulia could not count on their luck to survive the plunge over the
falls. Their gods had been with
them so far, but they could not hope that is would continue
forever. Their only escape was
to climb the canyon walls and only one wall promised any chance of
success.
Given a choice Zenaria would
have chosen to go the other way and climb the cliff that would put them on
the same side of the canyon as their companions, but that was not an
option. The cliff on that side
was sheer, and jutted out toward the top, making a climb almost
impossible. The other side was
also steep, but offered enough possible hand and footholds to make the climb
possible.
The roar of the river made
speech impossible, but Zenaria pointed to the cliff and Sulia
nodded. Slowly they edged their
way down the partially submerged trunk of the tree until they reached the
cliff. As Sulia was ahead of
her, Zenaria waited until she had started the climb before
following.
The climb took much longer
than it should have, but both Zenaria and Sulia were battered and
exhausted. They had to stop several
times and rest before continuing, and once Zenaria had to help Sulia when
she slipped. But slowly they
made their way to the top until finally Sulia pulled herself over the
ledge. Zenaria followed just
heartbeats later and flopped down beside
her.
Zenaria was almost too exhausted
to move, but she wanted to know how Sulia was, so she struggled into a sitting
position. It was then that she
saw the vegetation lining the top of the canyon shake and then part to reveal
a creature that was more than vaguely familiar.
“Urtts!”
She somehow made it to her feet just as a greenish yellow horde burst
through the vegetation. Her sword
was in her hand even as she gained her feet and although off balance the
blade took off the head of the Urtt nearest her, but that was the only blow
she got in before she was tackled by two other
attackers.
The impetus of the Urtts
almost knocked her back into the canyon, for an instant she teetered on the
edge and then several more grabbed hold of her and dragged her away from
the edge, at the same time trying to wrestle the sword from her
grasp. She fought ferociously,
somehow finding strength she didn’t know she had, but her ordeal in
the flood waters was against her.
By sheer weight of numbers her attackers bore her down, wrestled her
sword from her grasp and then forced her arms behind her
back. She struggled even more
fiercely as she felt ropes being looped around her wrists, but it was all
in vain. She lay gasping like
a fish out of water as her first her wrists and then her ankles were
bound. A yard away she could
hear Sulia cry out in frustration as she too was
overwhelmed.
Still struggling feebly,
Zenaria was hauled to her feet and supported by an Urtt on either side of
her. She was dragged forward
and held in front of a large Urtt wearing a gold chain about his neck and
metal-studded leather cuffs on his
wrists. A dagger was stuck into
a leather sheath that hung from a chain-link belt around his waist and he
held an iron mace in his right hand.
He looked like most other
Urtts Zenaria had seen with two
differences. First, he was much
taller, coming close to her height; and second like the other Urtts around
her his skin was not the dark green of the Urtts with which she was familiar,
but a pea soup yellow-green. Other
than that they had the blunt lizard-like features typical of any other Urtt
she had ever seen.
“So, what have we
here?” the chief Urtt hissed.
“I’ve never seen anything like you
before. So
pale.” As he spoke he ran
his fingers over her face and then let them drift down to just above her
breasts.
Zenaria heaved her body
in a fruitless attempt to break free.
The sensation of the Urtt’s fingers on her body disgusted and
enraged her. “You don’t
like that? Well, you better get
used to it. You look like fine
breeding stock.”
“What do you think,
Krachjar? Should we have a better
look at it?” He took out
his knife as he spoke and placed it again the sleeve of Zenaria’s
shirt.
Krachjar
nodded. Although all Urtts appeared
pretty much the same to Zenaria Krachjar was distinguished by having just
one eye, the other being covered by a
patch. “It looks to be a
bountiful producer of milk, Frhang.
But it wouldn’t hurt to be sure.”
Frhang’s knife sliced
through the antelope skin shirt.
With a few quick cuts the garment fell from her body, baring her to
the waist, but the Urtt didn’t stop
there. Several other swift slashes
cut away her breeches leaving her stripped to the
skin. Somewhere in her struggles
in the water she had lost both her boots, so he didn’t have to bother
with them.
Even though exhausted, Zenaria
quivered with rage. She strained
against her bonds, but she had been tied at the wrists and elbows and just
above her ankles. She could do
nothing as Frhang ran his fingers over her
body. “A bit of a
fighter,” he said. “Did
you see the way it took off Brack’s
head? But it can be
broken. When it whelps the pups
should fetch a good price.”
“Urtt scum,” Zenaria
gasped. “You’ll never
break me.”
Both Urtts looked at her
in surprise. “It
speaks. Who would have thought
the cow capable of speech?”
It hadn’t registered
on Zenaria that the Urtts were speaking in their
language. Once again the spell
that the sorcerer Alzid had cast on her was at work enabling her to speak
and understand languages that should have been a mystery to
her.
“Can you understand
me, cow?” Frhang asked, his hands travelling over Zenaria’s
breasts. “Do you know what
I am going to do to you?”
Zenaria spat in his face,
her skin crawling as he touched her.
“Filthy human cow,”
Frhang hissed. He wiped the spittle
from his face and then drove his fist into Zenaria’s
belly.
It was a blow Zenaria had
expected, and the punch bounced off her tensed
muscles. Frhang shook his hand,
his fangs barred in anger.
“Bitch,” he roared.
Bringing up his other hand he struck her face, splitting her lower
lip. Then he struck again, catching
her high on her right cheek, just below her
eye. A third blow struck her
between her breasts. “It
will be pleasurable breaking you.
And you will be broken, cow.
It starts tonight.”
“Why not enjoy it and
the dark-skinned cow now?” Krachjar
asked. “There is time before
we make camp.”
“A tempting
suggestion,” Frhang answered.
“But we are deep in human
territory. I think it better
to return to camp first. We will
have plenty of time tonight.”
Krachjar shrugged, but he
did not object. Instead he motioned
to several Urtt-like creatures stationed behind
him. Zenaria had not noticed
them before but now she took a good look.
They appeared to be Urtts but something was not quite right about
them. Then she realized what
they were.
Half-
Urtts. Offspring of Urtts and
human slaves. She had
heard of captured human females being bred by their Urtt masters, and now
she saw the result.
Physically they were about
the same size as Urtts and their skins were a darker shade of
yellow-green. They seemed equally
divided between males and females, the latter having obvious mammalian
characteristics. However, their
demeanour spoke of their slave existence.
Heads bowed they approached the captives, not looking up until they
reached Sulia and Zenaria. While
the two warriors waited helplessly the Urtt slaves dragged forward two long
saplings that had been trimmed of their leaves and
branches. Sulia and Zenaria were
laid flat on the ground and the poles centred along the lengths of their
bodies. They were tied to them
at the ankles, knees, waist, and just below and above their breasts, and
then they were hoisted off the ground and carried by two slaves at each end
like so much baggage.
Zenaria swung helplessly
as she was carried. Exhausted
from her ordeal in the river and her climb from the canyon; not to mention
her efforts to escape the Urtts, it was a dizzying
ride. Her lip was cut and her
cheek so swollen from where Frhang had hit her that one eye was almost
closed. She hung face down, her
swaying breasts obvious targets for the Urtts walking
alongside.
“Yes; this one will
do nicely,” Krachjar said as he fondled
her. “Its milk glands are
marvellously developed; even more so than most of its
kind.” He stopped for a
heartbeat to let Sulia catch up with him.
“Although this one comes close,” he continued as he squeezed
Sulia’s breasts.
“Hyena dung,”
the Urulana princess gasped.
“You will pay for
that.”
“Neither one knows
when it’s beaten,” Krachjar grinned, displaying a mouthful of sharp
teeth. “It will take a lot
to break them, but the task will be pleasant.”
The touching and fondling
continued for most of the dreary march.
But it was nothing compared to the apprehension both women felt about
what was going to happen when it ended.
The Urtts delighted in describing in detail the so-called breeding
process even though only Zenaria could understand anything they said.
Almost certainly, however, Sulia
knew what her fate was going to be.
How could she not when the half-Urtts that carried her were clear
evidence of what their captors intended?
Even being carried the trek
was arduous. Their humiliating
and painfully bound position drained their strength with every
step. But Zenaria refused to
give up hope. Somehow she would
find a way to escape. She always
had. The Urtts could not break
her. But whether she would be
able to escape before they had had their brutal way with her was another
matter. She was utterly
exhausted. Even if the opportunity
presented itself would she be able to take advantage of
it?
Mid-afternoon came and with
it a sudden shout from the head of the
column. It was answered by another
shout and Zenaria realized that the Urtts had reached their safe
haven. They had been travelling
through an area of mixed forest and grasslands, moving parallel to the
Zenaria’s heart sank
as a number of Urtts emerged from the
rocks. It appeared that their
captors were part of a much larger group of
Urtts. If escape had been difficult
before, now it would be doubly so.
There was considerable chatter as they entered the Urtt encampment,
the welcoming Urtts swarming around the helpless
captives. “What have you
here, Frhang. A human cow with
pale skin. Where did you get
it?”
Frhang
laughed. “It’s a real
find. Would you believe I found
it and the black one climbing out of a
canyon? They were soaked to the
skin. A strange find, but a lucky
one. I have never found better
breeding stock. What of you,
Deg. Did you find anything
worthwhile?”
“Just a few
stragglers. All
male. The mountain shook the
ground so much I thought it best to come back
here.”
“Well, we can have
these two tonight. They promise
to be most enjoyable.”
Deg
laughed. “I suppose you
get to go first.”
“Of
course. I’m the biggest
and I’m the one that found them.”
“And I’m
second,” Krachjar added.
“Unless you want to fight me for them.”
“I’ll settle for
third,” Deg conceded.
“They look to be worth the wait.”
By now the Urtts and their
captives had entered the rocks.
They wound among them for a short while and then came to the mouth
of a deep cave. It was so well
hidden among the twists and turns of the rocks that it would have been almost
impossible to find by chance. It
was almost perfectly circular, as if it had been created
intentionally. However, Zenaria
was more interested in the fact that it was inhabited by several dozen Urtts
and an equal number of slaves. Her
skin tingled in fear as she realized that she and Sulia were now so heavily
outnumbered that escape was going to be near
impossible. And what had been
promised them was the proverbial fate worse than
death.
Although such a concept
was alien to Zenaria’s culture, she now understood what it
meant. The thought of being ravished
by over thirty Urtts had her sweating in fear, but she gave no sign of her
apprehension. She would die before
showing fear before an Urtt and she would never give up hope, but she prepared
herself for a horrible ordeal, knowing that she did not have long to
wait.
As she and Sulia were carried
deeper into the cave she became aware of a strong
odour. But it was not the usual
reptilian stench associated with a large number of Urtts, but something else
instead. It was more like the
smell of rotten eggs, but she didn’t clearly identify it until she and
Sulia were dumped onto the floor of the
cave. Just a few feet away a
large pool bubbled, giving off both the foul smell and considerable
heat.
“You want a hot bath,
human cows?” Frhang jeered.
“Maybe if you don’t work out we’ll dump you in the
boiling pond. He turned to the
half-Urtt slaves. “Untie
them from the poles and throw them in the
cages. We’ll deal with them
after we’ve eaten.”
The slaves did as they were
told, removing the ropes that bound them to the poles but not untying their
arms or legs. They then dumped
them into a crude wicker cage. Too
exhausted to struggle with their bonds, the two captives lay at the bottom
of the cages while the slaves hoisted them off the
floor. To add to their discomfort
the cages were swung through the air until they directly over the bubbling
pool.
The Urtts left them to stew
over the pool, leaving a couple of slaves to watch them, but stripped of
their clothing and weapons neither captive was going
anywhere. They lay exhausted,
the sweat streaming from their bodies while the Urtts gathered around a large
campfire for their evening meal.
From where Zenaria was the
meal seemed to consist mostly of meat, and large amounts of
it. The smell permeated the cave,
mingling with that of the sulphurous stench rising from the pool below
her. But Zenaria and Sulia had
no appetite; robbed of the desire to eat by the exhaustion and the stink
surrounding them.
The Urtt’s feast was
a noisy and boisterous affair with a considerable amount of
drinking. Exactly what they were
drinking was hard to determine from Zenaria’s vantage point, but from
the volume of sound it appeared that they had managed to brew up some sort
of intoxicating beverage.
Eventually, however, the feast ended and with it Zenaria’s and
Sulia’s brief reprieve.
The Urtts came for them,
many of them swaying drunkenly, but more than enough to handle two beaten
and bound women. The cages were
swung away from the bubbling pool and the doors thrown
open. Then the two captives were
dragged toward the fires.
Zenaria was almost too weak
to fight, as was Sulia, but as their ankles were unbound and their legs spread,
both women fought desperately.
Frhang and Krachjar stood
in front of them surveying their prizes.
Both Urtts appeared more than a little drunk, but not enough to eliminate
their intention to commit rape.
“You still want the white cow first?” Krachjar
asked.
“Never had one like
her before,” the Urtt leader
answered. “And I’m
looking forward to finding out what she’s
like.”
“Then let’s get
started,” Krachjar answered.
He tossed aside his brief loin covering, revealing the fact that the
drink had in no way impaired his ability to achieve an
erection.
Frhang laughed, and emulated
his lieutenant as with a good deal of pushing and shoving the other Urtts
gathered to watch their leaders and wait their
turn. The Urtts holding
Zenaria’s ankles pulled her legs a little father
apart. From somewhere she found
the strength to fight, but her efforts were feeble and with her arms still
bound at the wrists and elbows there was nothing she could do as Frhang moved
between her thighs.
“And now, cow,”
Frhang leered. “You are
mine.” His hands on her
breasts, he thrust his hips forward.
The earth moved;
literally. Frhang cursed as he
was thrown completely over Zenaria’s head, landing on his
back. Farther back in the cave
by the boiling pool there was a sudden eruption and a geyser of steam and
boiling water exploded toward the roof.
It was followed by an even greater eruption and a blast of heat that
roared through the cave in a searing
wave.
The shrieks of scalded Urtts
and their slaves filled the air.
Fortunately for Zenaria and Sulia, their position on the floor allowed
them to escape the worst of the burning steam and hot
water. Even so, they were scalded
in several places and would have been burned even worse had not Frhang and
Krachjar inadvertently protected them from the burring vapour.
The ground shook again,
and parts of the cave roof fell to the
floor. Ominously the water in
the boiling pool was suddenly sucked away as if by some giant living in the
ground. From the hole that remained
came a low hissing as if an enormous snake was hiding
underground.
Zenaria got wearily to her
feet. She was almost completely
spent, and her wrists and arms were still
bound. Those Urtts that were
still able were fleeing the cave, and she looked around for
Sulia. She found the Urulana
princess still lying where Krachjar had been about to rape
her. Her mouth dry from lack
of water she called out.
“Sulia, we must escape.
Get up.”
Sulia rolled to her knees,
her movements agonizingly slow.
Zenaria longed to
rush over and help her, provided the proud warrior would have accepted her
help, but she was helpless to do so.
All she could do was watch as her companion slowly staggered to her
feet. “Come,” she
urged. “We haven’t
much time.”
Sulia nodded her
agreement. Awkwardly, as if drunk
she lurched toward the entrance, her bound wrists and arms making her movements
doubly difficult.
Zenaria found it equally
awkward, but forged toward the entrance in spite of the continual shuddering
of the ground and the rock falling from the cave
ceiling. Stepping over the bodies
of several scalded Urtts and manoeuvring around others that lay moaning on
the floor, she made her way to the cave entrance and out into the night
air. She took in several long
breaths of clean air and then headed away from the entrance as fast as she
could, Sulia following. It was
well that she did. Barely had
she made it out of the line of sight of the cave entrance when there was
another immense roar and a huge cloud of heated vapour burst out of the cave
entrance.
There were no more screams
and Zenaria knew that nothing could have survived the terrible
heat. She stood breathing
heavily. Somehow she had to find
a way out of her bonds. Did she
dare go back into the cave where her sword and knife
were? She doubted that she could
struggle out of her bonds without cutting them, the Urtts had simply tied
her too well, and she didn’t have the
energy. However, that matter
was taken out of her hands just a heartbeat
later.
“You cows didn’t
think you would escape me so easily, did
you?” The voice hissed from
just behind Zenaria and she turned to see Frhang standing
there. It was apparent that he
had suffered in the steam explosion.
The skin on his head and shoulders was blistered and although his
back was hidden, Zenaria was sure that he was burned there as
well. Whatever his injuries,
however, he appeared healthy enough to defeat two exhausted and bound
warriors.
Zenaria took a step back
and then lunged toward him.
“Run Sulia,” she cried.
“Save yourself.”
She might as well have been
shouting to the wind. The Urulana
princess moved to her side and glared at the Urtt
captain. “How noble,”
Frhang sneered. “But two
cows are no match for an Urtt warrior.”
“Untie me and you will
see just how well I fight. Or
are your words those of a coward.”
“I do not answer to
a human cow,” Frhang answered.
Before Zenaria could move he stepped forward and slammed his fist
into her face.
She staggered back, her
nose streaming blood and her eyes filling with
tears. Barely able to see, she
could not avoid the next blow or the
next.
He beat her to her knees
and then turned on Sulia. Barely
conscious Zenaria could hear the sound of the blows as Frhang beat Sulia
into submission; then he turned back to Zenaria and delivered several kicks
to her ribs. “Never forget
that I am your master, human cow. I
can and will do with you as I wish and you will obey me in all
things.” From somewhere
he produced a length of rope that he quickly looped about each of their
necks. Jerking on the rope, he
forced Zenaria to her feet and then moved off into the
darkness. Zenaria was forced
to follow, dragging Sulia with her.
Barely able to stand, both women stumbled along behind trying to avoid
falling over obstacles in the dark.
They didn’t go
far. It didn’t make sense
to brave the animal-filled landscape at night and the ground trembled
continuously, making walking difficult.
Frhang led them to a sheltered spot in the
rocks. Removing the rope from
their necks he bound their ankles and moving a short distance away he lay
down to rest. Zenaria noted that
he lay face down, attesting to the pain he must be feeling in his scalded
back. “Don’t try to
escape,” he warned. “I
will hear you and if you wake me up I’ll remove the skin from the bottom
of you feet.”
In the distance the
She awoke near dawn, her
limbs incredibly cramped. She
could no longer feel her hands, the fingers of which were swollen to double
their normal size and her body throbbed with pain, partly from the beating
Frhang had administered and partly from the partial scalding she had received
in the cave. Her mouth was dry
and she was weak from hunger. She
had no idea what Frhang intended to do to her, but she knew she wouldn’t
last much longer without food.
Frhang was already awake,
no doubt the pain of his burns made it difficult to sleep, but he was as
tough as he looked. As Zenaria
opened her eyes he strode over to her.
“There’s no point in staying here,
cow. Today we
march.”
“I march nowhere without
food or water,” Zenaria replied.
“You can beat me all you want, but neither of us will be of any
use to you if you don’t give us what we need to stay
alive.”
Frhang seemed to consider
her words. “You’ve
the mouthiest human cow I’ve ever captured,” he said, “but
what you say makes sense.
“I’ll give you food and water and then we
leave.”
Zenaria expected that it
would be too much to ask to have her ands untied, but she worried about that
even more than the lack of food and
drink. If she stayed tied much
longer she might be too crippled to ever use her fingers
properly.
Frhang managed to scrounge
up some leftover meat. Evidently
he had gone back into the cave to get it, as he reappeared carrying
Zenaria’s sword and dagger and was once again wearing a
loincloth. He set the meat on
the ground and began to cut it up with the dagger.
“We could eat better
if you untied our hands,” Zenaria
suggested.
“I’m not that
stupid,” Frhang replied.
“You stay tied.”
“I’ve been tied
up so long I’m no threat to you,” Zenaria
countered. “If you watch
us and keep our ankles tied we can finish faster and be on our
way.”
Frhang seemed to consider
her words. Finally he
nodded.
“Alright. But any
tricks and I’ll cut off your toes.
You don’t need toes for me to breed
you.”
He moved behind her and
removed her bonds and then did the same with
Sulia. Zenaria almost cried out
in agony as the blood pounded back into her
fingers. As she had asserted
she could hardly hold the chunks of meat or pick up the waterskin he tossed
her. Nevertheless, she managed
to get enough food and water into her stomach to revive her
somewhat. However, much sooner
than she would have liked |Frhang pulled her arms behind her back
again. This time he did not tie
her wrists, but he tied her tightly at the elbows and then after tying Sulia
identically he removed the bonds from their feet ordered them to get
up.
Wearily both warriors did
as they were told. Both of them
needed more rest than they had been allowed, but they knew they were not
going to get any. Frhang had
tethered them again and he took the lead parading his captives after
him. Zenaria had no idea where
she was being taken and since she could not speak to Sulia without fear of
punishment she simply guessed that they were being taken back to Urtt
territory. Wherever they were
going, they headed steadily away from the
The huge mountain was awake
again, spewing fountains of fire into the sky and Zenaria realized with a
flash of inspiration where all the water had come from in the flood that
had swept through the canyon. The
top of the mountain was covered with snow and almost certainly the heat generated
by the exploding mountain must have melted some of
it. She wondered if more floodwaters
might be heading their way. It
was something she kept in mind as she trekked behind Frhang wondering if
she might possibly turn it to her advantage.
She kept her eyes on Frhang
as he moved in front of her. She
was deeply angered that he was wearing her sword, but at the same time glad
that it was not yet lost to her. It
had belonged to her father and had great sentimental
value.
“Something
will happen,” she thought.
“Somehow
I will get it back.”
She and Sulia trudged along
behind Frhang. The food and water
he had given them helped to renew their strength, but they were no closer
to escaping than they had been when they had been hung in the wicker cages
in the cave. Already Zenaria
could feel the numbness returning to her hands, but the way she was tied
made it almost impossible to loosen the
ropes. Straining at the ropes
that pulled her elbows together simply made the knots
tighter. Resignedly she gave
up trying. Frhang couldn’t
keep her tied up forever.
Unfortunately he might keep her captive long enough to get her where
he wanted.
On this gloomy note Zenaria
trudged on. Behind her the
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