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Episode
II Return of the Dragon
Doria shrieked in rage, her face twisted in
hate. “The master made me
first acolyte; you will do as I say.”
The Black Dragon studied the younger woman,
her face a cold mask of indifference.
A few paces away Noric watched the encounter with
interest. He had expected this
confrontation and now he watched with to see how his newest disciple would
react.
Doria bared her
fangs. “I will destroy you
unless you obey me,” she threatened.
She raised her hands, the razor claws extended, but the object of
her anger simply continued to regard her calmly almost as if she did not
exist.
The Black Dragon’s disinterested demeanor
was too much for Doria. With
a growl, she extended her arms and a jet of blue fire struck the other woman
full in the chest. Around her
the leaves on the trees wilted in the heat and several branches burst into
flame, but the fire washed over the Black Dragon like waves breaking around
a rock
Finally responding, the Black Dragon raised
one hand. “That was
foolish,” she said quietly.
Extending the fingers of her right hand she closed them as if grasping
something. Doria gasped, her
throat constricting and then fell to her knees as her breath was cut
off. Struggling violently, she
clutched at her throat as if to free herself from the invisible grip that
was slowly choking the life out of her.
Her chalk white features darkened, turning a shade of blue and she
began to kick her heels frenziedly.
Then the Black Dragon’s hand relaxed leaving Doria panting on
the ground.
The Black Dragon stood over her fallen
opponent. “Who is first?”
she asked.
“Y… You are,” Doria
gasped.
The taller woman smiled and turned
away. She would have no more
trouble from Noric’s former favourite.
Noric reigned in his
horse. Behind him was his
army. It appeared small, less
than five hundred men, but it was the six women arrayed beside him that more
than made up the difference.
“Wait here,” he ordered.
He spurred his horse forward across the open ground separating him
from the opposing army.
It was drawn up on a low hill that covered
the road leading to Narum. He
guessed that about two thousand warriors barred their
way. The rest were off with Zirhan
Khan fighting against Rohvan in the convenient little civil war Noric had
been instrumental in creating.
“Divide and conquer,” Noric
thought. It was an old maxim,
but it was surprising how accurate it
was. Without the distraction
provided by Rohvan, Noric’s small force would have faced at least three
thousand more men. Not that it
mattered. He was now capable
of destroying any army opposing him, but he would need men to help him control
the country after he took control.
It would be a shame to kill them all; not when they could serve him
just as easily as they served Khan or Rohvan.
He halted a few hundred body lengths from
the opposing army. As he had
surmised several riders spurred forth to meet
him. He recognized Chan Maroth,
King Zirhan’s cousin and
second-in-command.
“What is this, Noric?” Maroth
demanded. “You lead an army
against your master?”
“Zirhan Khan was never my master, as
well you know,” sneered Noric.
“He was a waterborne thief, a stealer of ships, and despoiler
of coastal villages when I met him.
I made him king and now I intend to unmake
him.”
“You are a traitor and will die for your,
treachery,” one of the other riders
shouted. He drew his sword and
moved his horse toward Noric.
“You are just as stupid as I remember,”
Noric said calmly. “Sheath
your sword, Vadim before I burn you where you sit.”
Maroth held out his hand, halting Vadim before
he could move any closer.
“You might destroy a few men with your powers, Noric, but you
cannot destroy an entire army.
Surrender and I promise you that you will not be
killed.”
Noric smiled, almost infuriatingly
calm. “As a matter of fact
I can destroy an entire army – or at least your
army. I make you the same
offer. Surrender to me and I
will give you a high place in my kingdom.”
“We are wasting time,” Vadim
growled. “Let us just kill
him now and get it over with.”
“No,” Maroth replied holding up
his hand. “We will allow
him to return to his little army.
Then we will kill him.”
Vadim
spat. “This is a useless
waste of time.”
“Nevertheless,” Maroth replied,
“he will be allowed to return.”
“I thank you,” Noric replied as
he wheeled his horse around.
“I will try to spare your life if
possible.”
“Filthy traitor,” Vadim yelled after
him.
Noric smiled to himself as he rode back to
the six women. He reined in front
of the Black Dragon. “It
is as I thought. They will not
listen. We will have to give
them a lesson.”
Doria began to move forward, but Noric held
up his hand. “No, my
lovely,” he said. “Let
them come to us.” He turned
his horse in the direction of the enemy and watched the ordered formation
begin to move across the valley. He
waited until they were almost within shouting distance and then motioned
his six acolytes forward.
The six women dismounted, the Black Dragon
in front. The six women formed
a triangle with the Black Dragon forming the
apex. The three acolytes at the
base placed their hands on the shoulders of the two women in front of them,
transferring their power forward.
The next two women did the same, channeling all of their energy into
the Black Dragon.
Melissa raised her
arms. Before her was the enemy
of her master. She could feel
magical energy surging into her.
She reached down into herself and let her own
join. The air around her crackled
blue and then she extended her arms.
A spear of blue fire shot across the space separating her from the
advancing army. Its effects were
horrendous. Horses, men, armour,
and weapons blew skyward, utterly
destroyed. The entire centre
of the advancing army simply ceased to
exist. What was left of the army
turned almost as one, and fled in panic, some trampling on others in their
attempts to escape.
Noric
smiled. “Well that was
easy,” he thought. Tonight
he would sleep in
Vanora watched from the
battlements. A few hours before
the shattered remnants of Zirhan Khan’s army had fled panic-stricken
through the town. A few had stopped
to take refuge in the castle, but most had kept on
going. Those she had managed
to speak with were almost incoherent.
They spoke of the wrath of the gods striking the earth with thunderbolts
and demons burning the earth with blue
fire. Now she waited to see exactly
what they were running from.
In the streets of the city a long line of
men marched toward the castle.
There had been no soldiers to stop them at the city
walls. The castle was another
matter. Zirhan Khan had left
two hundred men to make sure that his queen and his mistress were
protected. There was no way in
without a battle. But Vanora
was not sure she wanted rescue by the
invaders. Part of the information
she had gleaned was the army that was marching on the city was led by Vehan
Noric. She could expect little
in the way of mercy from Zirhan Khan’s wizard.
Two men thundered toward the
gate. Their horses were lathered
and ready to drop. The men were
not in much better shape, their clothing burned and tattered and pieces of
their armour dented and scratched.
She recognized them at once as Chan Maroth and Sevrim Vadim, two of
Khan’s captains and the men in charge of the army that had marched out
to deal with Noric’s small army.
She suppressed a smile. Like
most of Zirhan Khan’s men the two were little more than rapacious
brutes. She felt no sympathy
for them.
Dismounting, the two men were admitted through
the postern gate. Immediately
they headed for the tower where Vanora
stood. A few minutes later they
came puffing up the stairs.
“Your highness,” Maroth nodded,
going through the charade of recognizing Vanora as Zirhan Khan’s
queen. She did not
reply. Maroth had distinguished
himself by forcing every nubile and attractive young woman in the castle,
from chambermaids to the cook’s helpers to serve him
sexually. She hated the man with
a passion. Vadim was not much
better, his only virtue being that he was too stupid to be really dangerous,
except perhaps to himself.
Below them a strange procession
approached. Vanora recognized
Noric at once but was a bit puzzled about the others until they got a bit
closer. “Doria!” she
thought. And there was Talitha
and Sephia, along with Cyran and Alia.
Her ladies-in-waiting had disappeared shortly after Zirhan Khan had
seized the castle. She had hoped
that they had escaped, but now saw that they had
not. Even at a distance she could
see that they were oddly dressed.
Six women wearing tight black leather outfits was certainly
strange. She stared hard at the
sixth woman, but did not recognize her.
The entire group along with Noric halted just within crossbow range
of the castle gates. Along the
wall several men readied their missile weapons but did not fire, perhaps
fearing that they could not hurt the wizard and might endanger
themselves.
Noric
spoke. His voice, magically
amplified, reached her easily.
“Greetings your majesty.
Please open the gates.
Zirhan Khan is no longer ruler of
Sandor. I hold the power now
and it would be best if you and I spoke quietly rather than shouting at one
another across castle walls.”
Before Vanora could answer Vadim
spoke. She would probably not
have responded in any case, it being rather undignified to have to shout
across a distance equal to a tourney field, but she resented Vadim not giving
her the chance to ignore Noric.
“Traitor,” Vadim
shouted. “The only way you
will get to this wall will be with your head on a
spike.”
Noric said something to the sixth
woman. Dressed in black, like
the other women, she rode slowly forward until she had cut the distance between
her and the gates in half and then raised her
hand. “Shoot her,”
screamed Maroth. “Shoot
her now.”
Several score crossbow bolts whirred through
the air. The tall, statuesque
woman moved her fingers slightly and every quarrel burst into
flame. Vanora opened her mouth
in astonishment. The woman
looked directly at her and gave her a chill
smile. Then with another slight
gesture sent a bolt of blue fire into the castle gates.
There was an explosion that shook the
tower. Although Vanora could
not see the gate she knew it was gone.
The smell of burning wood filled the air and a plume of smoke issued
from the gate tower. Without
waiting for orders the men guarding the wall deserted their
posts. Vanora found herself alone,
watching the backs of Vadim and Maroth as they ran like demons were hot on
their heels.
Noric rode forward, followed by the six
women. Behind them came several
hundred other horsemen. With
a sigh Vanora turned and headed for the great
hall. It was time to meet the
newest conqueror of her homeland.
“Uunnghh!” The Black Dragon grunted in the throes of
passion. The demon Noric was
deep within her, but now she welcomed the pain, grinding her loins upward
in order to fully receive his cruel phallus.
The brutal penetration was
excruciating, but the pleasure was worth every scintilla of
pain. She cried as she slowly
peaked, an orgasm sending shudders of carnal pleasure through her
body.
Noric looked down at the thrashing disciple
beneath him. Her face was contorted
in pleasure and pain as he thrust into
her. She was everything that
he hoped she would be, strong, magically powerful, and endowed with a sexual
energy beyond anyone he had ever enjoyed.
Sprawled on the bed next to him were the exhausted bodies of Doria
and Talitha. He had enjoyed them
first, delighting in their screams of agony as he took each of them in
turn. He had saved the Black
Dragon for last, knowing that she would easily outlast the
others.
He had not been
disappointed. The woman’s
body writhed beneath him as he thrust into her, her black-nipples describing
perfect circles as her breasts danced in a sexual
ballet. Her breath came in gasps,
her body quivering as orgasm after orgasm ripped through
her.
Her tolerance for pain was
tremendous. In spite of the fact
that the sheets of the bed were slick with her blood, she responded to each
thrust with an upward movement of her
loins. Her legs were locked behind
his thighs in an attempt to pull him even deeper within her, in spite of
the fact that his mighty shaft had penetrated deep within her
womb. She must have been in
indescribable agony at yet she acted as if he was the most gentle and
compassionate of lovers.
He grunted as he felt himself rising to
orgasm. It came with an explosion
of power that set off multiple orgasms in his
partner. He spurted deep into
her womb. She wondered if she
was receptive to his seed. A
child by this woman would be
extraordinary. Perhaps he would
order her to conceive when he no longer needed her so
urgently. However, he still had
kingdoms to conquer and until he was undisputed master of his new empire
he had need of her in a different capacity.
He pulled out of her, his demon phallus shriveling
as he returned to his human form.
He had needed this release.
He had a meeting with Princess
Vanora. She had dropped the title
of queen now that she was in longer under Zirhan Khan’s
power. It had not been difficult
to get the religious authorities to annul the
marriage. After all, it had clearly
been forced. Now his plans for
her could be brought to fruition.
Exhausted, the Black Dragon lazily watched
her master leave. She would feel
the effects of her love-making for the rest of the day, but she would recover
more quickly that either Doria or
Talitha. The changes the demon
had created in her body when he had bound her too him had made her much
stronger. Before she had been
enslaved she would not have survived the demon’s attention more than
once, but now she welcomed such sessions.
There was no love involved.
That emotion had been stripped from
her. She knew only duty and
obedience. However, each time
she coupled with the demon lord it proved her superiority to the other
disciples.
She raised herself onto her elbows and
winced. Her breasts and nipples
were badly bruised. Making love
with a demon was not something to be done
lightly. She forced herself to
her feet and left the room, ignoring the other sleeping
disciples. Closing the door behind
her she entered the living areas of Noric’s suite of rooms and rang
the bell. She would have hot
water brought for a bath, and then she would seek her
master. Perhaps he would favour
her with more attention.
“No!” Vanora protested, gripping
the arms of her chair. “I
will not do it. I am not a playing
piece to be used by men as they see fit.”
“You are what I want you to be,”
Noric replied. “I intend
to secure my hold on Sandor, and what better way to do it than through marriage
into the royal line. As a woman
it was always your fate to be treated thus.”
Vanora tried to remain
calm. She had been anything but
a willing bride to Zirhan Khan, but at least he had been a warrior, albeit
a most brutal and savage one, but to be forced to marry his lowborn henchman
was completely unacceptable.
However, she had seen what his female servants could do, especially
the tall woman Noric called the Black
Dragon. She shivered every time
she was in her presence. There
was something indescribably evil about
her.
“My lord,” she said, choosing her
words carefully. “I am a
symbol to my people. It is well
known that I was forced into my union with Zirhan Khan and it caused great
resentment. It is one of the
reasons why he was faced with such strong
opposition.”
As she finished speaking the door to the room
opened and the Black Dragon entered.
Vanora shuddered as always when the woman’s dead eyes met
hers.
Noric turned in his chair, plainly
annoyed. “I told the guards
I was not to be disturbed.”
“Apparently,” the Black Dragon answered,
“they did not think you prohibition applied to
me. I was not hindered as I made
my way here.”
“No,” Noric replied musingly,
“you would not be
stopped. Sit and await my
orders.”
As the woman retreated to a chair, Noric turned
back to Vanora. “I have
instructed the holy brothers to make ready for our wedding in one
moon. You will have a proper
ceremony before the people, not as it was before.”
Vanora shook her
head. “Please do not force
me to do this. I am not a chattel
to be traded from one man to another.”
“You are a woman, and you will do as
you are told. We marry in one
moon. I suggest you devote yourself
to preparing for the event.”
Finishing, Noric got to his feet and moved to the
door. “One
moon. Remember
princess. I am not used to being
disobeyed.”
Vanora kept her face expressionless and then
almost lost her composure as she caught the look of pure hatred directed
toward her by the Black Dragon.
She knew without being told that
she had made a deadly enemy although exactly what she had done to deserve
such enmity she had no idea. With
beating heart she watched the black-clad woman follow her master from the
room.
The Black Dragon was coldly
furious. She had thought the
demon lord was hers, but now he was planning a public wedding with a mere
mortal. What did her master see
in the Sandoran princess? She
was far too frail to survive the wedding
night. Did he intend to turn
her as well? Surely her master
was in error. She gnashed her
teeth. It was not her place to
correct her master, but she could correct his
mistakes. There would be no
marriage. She had a simple plan
for making sure that in one moon princess Vanora would not be available for
the ceremony.
“Mmmmpphh!” Vanora struggled to
breathe. The gag had been stuffed
halfway down her throat, blocking off most of her breathing
passages. But that was not her
only problem. Her hands were
tied tightly behind her back and her ankles were lashed
together.
She had no idea of the identity of her
abductor. Everything had happened
so quickly. One heartbeat she
was sleeping soundly and the next someone was pinning her face down to the
mattress. As she struggled helplessly
to escape in the darkness of her bedroom, her face had been shoved down into
the pillow and then a length of cloth had been forced into her
mouth. He arms had been pinned
to her sides by the person on top of her and then her hands had been wrenched
behind her back and securely bound.
She now bumped along on the back of a horse,
slung over the horse’s back so that her head hung down on one side and
her feet on the other. A rope
had been looped under her arms and beneath the horse and tied to her ankles
on the other side. She had no
idea where she was, but knew that she had been traveling for most of the
night. She could sense a lightening
of the darkness as dawn approached.
Where she was being taken or who had kidnapped her she had no idea,
but feared the worst.
She had just one
hope. So far she had been kept
alive. It would have been easy
to have killed her at any stage of the abduction so she supposed that her
kidnapper intended to hold her for
ransom. It was the only motive
that made sense.
A sudden change in the motion of the horse
caused her to tense up. Her abductor
had halted. Looking ahead she
could see a faint flickering glow as of a
campfire. Then the horses moved
forward again, riding into the firelight.
The sound of men’s voices reached her
ears. The accent was
strange. It was in her language,
but in a dialect she had not heard before.
“Ye brought the
princess?” There was no
answer. Instead her abductor
dismounted and moved to Vanora’s
horse. She felt the rope holding
her in place being removed and then her ankles were untied and she was pulled
from the horse and placed on her feet.
She swayed unsteadily as the blood rushed back into her
feet. She could see now that
she was in some sort of encampment.
Several wagons were parked close to a fire and a dozen or so men were
standing about it, all of them looking in her
direction.
“Ah, I see that ye
did. Don’t worry; we’ll
take good care of her.” The
man moved forward, his feet crunching as he moved across the
ground.
Vanora could see him clearly
now. He was dressed in tan trousers,
black boots, and an open leather vest that revealed a barrel
chest. He was bareheaded and
wore gold earrings in both ears. Of
her captor she could see nothing as she was held from behind in a grip so
strong that she could not turn. As
the eyes of the men in the camp swept over her she remembered that she was
clothed only in her filmy nightdress, he body barely
concealed.
The person holding her pushed her forward
and then released her. Vanora
half turned and for the first time got a glimpse of her
abductor. It didn’t do her
much good. The tall figure wore
a hood and black cloak that concealed most of the abductor’s head and
body.
Several men moved toward them and then they
suddenly halted. Expressions
of fear flickered across their faces and several of them took a step back
while others placed their hands on the hilts of knives and
swords. After a long pause the
man wearing the vest moved slowly
forward. He took Vanora’s
arm. “We’ll deal with
her as agreed,” he said.
Her abductor did not reply, but Vanora detected
a slight inclination of the head.
There was a sudden movement of its arm and a heavy leather bag thudded
to the ground. There was a distinct
clink as it hit. Then without
further comment or action the dark figure mounted its horse, and leading
the other one behind it, rode silently off into what remained of the
night. Her heart filled with
dread, Vanora watched the rider disappear, and then her new captor took her
arm and led her toward the fire.
“Come with me, princess it’s time we got better
acquainted.”
The Black Dragon allowed a smile to play about
her lips as she rode away from the Rover
camp. The camp’s inhabitants
were little better than thieves.
She had no doubt that they would enjoy looking after the
princess. More importantly, they
would keep the fact that they had her a
secret. The way was now
clear. There would be no more
talk of the princess becoming Noric’s
queen. That was a place reserved
for someone far more suitable. Soon
the Black Dragon would be queen of
Sandor. Her power would be
unrivaled. She and her demon
lord would rule over all they desired.
Vanora was dragged into the centre of the
camp. “Untie her,”
the Rover leader ordered. “I
don’t think she will be stupid enough to try to
escape.”
Vanora gasped for air as the gag was
untied. She rubbed her sore
wrists. “Why am I here?”
she demanded. “What do you
want of me?”
The Rover leader chuckled, his eyes boldly
devouring her body. “I think
that should be obvious, princess.”
He licked his lips.
“You kidnapped me just to violate me?”
Vanora asked. Her gusts twisted
in fear, but she kept up a bold
façade. It was her only
hope of escape. “You could
have taken any woman, why me? I
will be looked for. Is it ransom
you want? Release me now and
I will see that you are well paid.”
“You ask a great many questions,
princess,” the Rover chief
responded. I see no reason to
answer any of them. As for your
offer of ransom we have already been
paid.” He held up the heavy
bag. “But it is not to release
you, but to keep you.”
“Keep me?” Vanora asked, realization
of her fate suddenly dawning upon her.
“To do with as we wish, princess,”
the Rover leader added. “And
since you are not a virgin it will not decrease your value if we enjoy you
before transporting you to the slave traders at
Chandor.”
“No,” said Vanora taking a step
backward. To be threatened with
rape again after her brutal treatment by Zirhan Khan terrified
her. And this time it would be
a gang rape by every member of the outlaw band.
“Please,” she
begged. “I am a
princess. I can pay you double
whatever you have already been offered if you let me
go.”
“A tempting offer,” the bandit chief
answered. “But I would as
soon spit in the eye of a dragon as go against the one who brought you
here. I will settle for what
I can get without risking my skin.”
“You risk more than your skin,”
Vanora threatened. It seemed
her situation was helpless. Already
her captors were moving toward her.
She was surrounded by bandits.
“If I am harmed you will be
punished.” She turned in
a circle, and saw a sea of faces.
“Please no. Do not
do this.”
Her voice broke as the Rover chief reached
for her. In a desperate move
she snatched at the dagger that was at his belt, thinking to plunge it into
her bosom, but the bandit caught her
wrist. “We’ll have
none of that,” he smirked.
“Not until we’ve had a bit of fun with you
first.”
Hands caught at her arms, preventing further
movement. The bandit chief reached
out and undid the tie holding her thin sleeping shift on her left
shoulder. The robe parted, baring
her shapely shoulder to her breast.
“You dare to touch me!” Vanora raged,
still keeping up the pretext of her royal
dignity.
The Rover chief laughed as he reached for
the ties on her other shoulder.
Vanora spat in his face. The
Rover’s face darkened, but he made no effort to strike
her. “You’ve got the
spirit of a princess I see,” he
mused. “I was planning on
being gentle with you, but now you’ve changed my
mind.” He released the tie
and Vanora’s nightdress dropped to the ground, revealing the naked glory
of her body.
“Hold her,” the bandit chief
ordered.
“Filth!” Vanora
shouted. Then grunted as her
arms were pulled over her head and her body stretched
tight. She was pulled out
horizontally, and bent over a saddle that had been placed on a tree stump.
As she bucked like a filly, the bandit chief moved between her
legs. She tried to kick him,
but he had already parted her thighs and while she thrashed helplessly, he
untied his pants and pulled out his
manhood.
“No,
no nooo!” Vanora
screamed. She arched her back
and twisted her body violently, but the Rover gripped her hips and drove
into her. She screamed in rage
and pain as he penetrated her. It
was nowhere as bad as the first time she had been raped, but the crowd of
men surrounding her added a dimension of horror that had not been there the
first time. She faced rape by
at least a dozen men and was close to fainting in fear.
The Rover thrust viciously into her, his hands
clamping hard on her firm breasts.
Vanora gasped in agony, and then shrieked as the men holding her ankles
pulled on them, driving the bandit chief deep within
her. Her body convulsed, her
firm but pliant breasts bouncing as her body shuddered under the bandit’s
brutal impact. She screamed again,
her voice echoing through the dark, silent forest.
“What was that?” Che Sha
said. She sat up, pushing aside
her blanket.
“A scream,” answered
Vayasha. “And not too far
away.”
“A woman’s scream,” Shasara
added. She was already standing,
and had slung her bow and quiver over her
shoulders. The Silvani ranger
had become less withdrawn in the last few days, but had not returned to her
old self. Now her face was set
in the same vengeful mask she had assumed when they had killed the pirate
crew. Without a word the other
two women joined her, strapping on their gear and then moving off together
toward the sound of the screams.
The screams increased in frequency as they
neared their source, but the three women were careful not to blunder into
a trap. As much as they would
have liked to dash off at full speed they all knew that there was little
point in interrupting whatever was going on if they were captured
themselves.
The woman’s protests were now mixed with
sobs. It was plain that the invisible
woman was undergoing some brutal ordeal.
Just how brutal they did not know until they reached the edge of a
clearing. They had circled around
the camp so that they approached from high
ground. Below them was a scene
that filled each of them with rage.
A young woman was spread-eagled in the midst
of over a dozen men. She was
being brutally raped by one of them while the others around her grabbed at
her body, squeezing and pinching her well-rounded thighs, arms, and
breasts. In spite of the overwhelming
odds, she was fighting desperately as her principle assailant hammered ruthlessly
into her. Without a word each
of the women drew their weapons.
An arrow took the rapist rights between the
shoulder blades. Another took
out the man holding the victim’s
wrists. The men dropped but before
they hit the ground two more arrows found their mark and then Che Sha was
among them, her
serpent’s teeth cleaving a bloody swathe through the
remaining men. It was all over
in seconds. Those men that Che
Sha did not kill, Shasara and Vayasha pinned with their
arrows. Not a man
escaped.
Che Sha took a quick look around to make sure
that there were no other men hiding close by then she went to the sobbing
victim. Shasara and Vayasha were
already there, the former holding the woman in her arms and the latter pulling
a blanket over her naked body.
The woman stifled her sobs and then to the
amazement of the other three women she
apologized. “I’m sorry
for my weakness,” she gasped, her voice breaking as she
spoke. “It’s just
that…” She broke off,
unable to finish.
“There is no need to feel shame,”
said Che Sha. “You fought
bravely against brutal assailants.”
The woman began to weep
again. Shasara held her close,
her own eyes filled with tears.
Vayasha built up the fire while Che Sha dragged the corpse of the
slain bandits off to one side.
A short while later both women had the camp
in some semblance of order. Che
Sha brewed tea and presented it to the dark-haired woman they had
rescued. From somewhere in the
“The Black Dragon?” Che Sha said,
leaning forward. “Describe
her to me.”
Vanora tried her
best. She had only seen the strange
woman on three occasions, but her lifeless black eyes, pale flesh, and cold,
impersonal countenance were burned into
her.
“Could it be
Sha Zhu?” Che Sha mused
aloud.
Vayasha shook her head
uncertainly. “The description
fits up to a point. Could it
be that she has been enchanted by the wizard?”
“My handmaidens were corrupted by
Noric’s dark magic,” Vanora
interjected. “They are not
the gay and carefree young women that were once my
companions. Perhaps your companion
was similarly perverted.”
Shasara regarded Vanora while pretending to
care for the fire. The princess
seemed to have made a remarkable recovery from her hideous
ordeal. And if her story was
to be believed she had suffered similarly at the hands of the Sea
Warriors. Shasara’s own
ordeal in the hold of the pirate ship suddenly seemed rather
trifling. Incredibly, she felt
a strange sense of guilt over her own reaction to her double
rape. She realized that horrible
as her ordeal had been at the time, she had suffered no worse than the princess,
and quite possibly less. And
then there was the matter of Che Sha.
The Shang princess had said very little about what had happened to
her, but it was clear that she had held something back when telling her
tale.
“I have suffered,” she thought,
“but others have endured the same fate and
recovered.” She set her
jaw. She was no longer a maiden,
but that was no reason not to act like a
woman. Slowly she got to her
feet. “Sleep now,”
she said to her companions.
“I will stand guard. We
will rest until
Vayasha nodded agreement, her face
luminous. Her sister was
back. Now they just had to find
the Red Dragon.
The Black Dragon bowed before her master,
touching her head to the floor.
“Forgive me, my lord,” she
pleaded. “I have failed
you.”
Noric looked at the bloody piece of cloth
the Black Dragon had presented to him.
“This was all you could find?”
“I followed her trail into the mountains,
my lord until I found her horse. It
had been savagely mauled by wolves.
This was all I was able to find of her.”
Noric
cursed. “This will make
my claim to the throne more difficult.
But there is still the queen.”
“The queen, my lord?” the Black
Dragon asked, raising her head from the floor.
“Queen Tersahi
is still a young woman. She is
still capable of conceiving.”
“My lord, such women are beneath
you. You need a queen who will
compliment your power.”
Noric studied the Black Dragon as she rose
to her feet. “Take me my
lord. I am
fertile. I will provide you with
the heir you desire. Together
we will conquer the world. No
one will be able to stand before
us.” She tugged at her leather
vest, baring her breasts.
“Take me my lord, tonight I will give you a
child.”
Noric felt his member
stir. “Yes,” he
said. He took the woman’s
proud breasts in his hands.
“Yes,” he repeated.
“Tonight I will truly make you my
queen.”
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