Barbarian
Tales
Episode
1
Mistress
of the Sword
by
L'Espion
Chapter
19: The Siege
Another night of hard use
in Velag’s pavilion followed their bath in the stream, but at least
Shailaja was now used only by Velag, so intent was he on insuring that she
bore his children. For Hestia
it was it was another night of torment.
The queen’s cries of pain soon turned into sobs as she was taken
by all three men.
It was not a surprising
reaction. She had been used hard
the day before and none of those who used her were
gentle. Bekor in particular seemed
to enjoy the moans of pain that passed her
lips.
As for Shailaja, she reacted
in her usual way, urging Velag to greater efforts and demanding to be used
again when he was finished. For
the most part he was happy to comply, but eventually she exhausted him, no
mean accomplishment in a man she had found bore a remarkable resemblance
to a bull in terms of stamina, desire, and physical
dimensions.
However, this night there
was a slight difference. Although
Shailaja responded as eagerly, she found that her ardour flagged earlier
than was usual, such that she was well satisfied and glad to sleep by the
time Velag had taken her for the last
time. Thinking she was still
suffering from the intense use she had endured the previous day she hardly
noticed the change, but it was the beginning of something that became more
noticeable over the next few days.
In the meantime, the army
was on the move again. Hestia
and Shailaja were placed at the end of a wagon and forced to march in the
wake of the army. Once again
it was not a pleasant experience, but at least Shailaja was used to the
routine. For Hestia it was brutality
itself. She had not Shailaja’s
strength and size nor had she recovered from her savage initiation at the
hands of her captors, but she made not a single complaint, placing one foot
in front of the other in stolid determination; ignoring the torment that
plagued her body.
Fortunately, she was not
subjected to the same level of brutalization again, although she and Shailaja
both faced the same nightly routine.
It gave the Uvarian queen a chance for slow recovery, and she gained
strength each day as the army moved closer to the city she
ruled.
“They will use me to
force my people to surrender,” Hestia whispered to Shailaja as they
marched. “But I must not
allow that to happen. I must
die before we reach Uvar. If
I cannot find the means to kill myself you must do it for
me.”
“Me?” Shailaja
asked. “I kill only in
battle.”
“You are the only one
who can do it,” Hestia insisted, her dark eyes
pleading. “You have the
size, strength, and skill to do it quickly, and no one else is
available.”
“I will think on it,”
Shailaja answered. “But
perhaps Marana will smile upon us before we reach
Uvar.”
“I hope Marana’s
smile comes quickly,” Hestia
answered. “We are only two
days’ march from Uvar.”
Hestia’s request left
Shailaja quite unsettled. To
be asked to kill someone she had come to look upon as a companion of sorts
did not go well with her. She
had no fear of retribution, caring not what Velag, Gorvag, or Bekor would
make of it, but it went against her warrior code of
honour. However, she could see
what Hestia feared. To have her
people surrender to Gorvag’s horde in order to save their queen or perhaps
just as bad to see her cruelly tortured outside the walls of the city would
be hard to bear. Shailaja resolved
that if they reached the city without Marana’s intervention she would
do as Hestia asked.
Hestia saw it in
Shailaja’s eyes that night, and the slight nod she gave the queen confirmed
her commitment. If Marana decreed
that they were to remain captives she would kill the queen quickly and
painlessly. It might mean her
death as well, but Shailaja did not fear
death. If Marana decreed that
she was to die for her actions then so be it, but after the constant shaming
at the hands of her captors she was beyond caring what happened to
her.
As it happened Shailaja’s
reluctant commitment to murder Hestia and sacrifice herself was
wasted. That night after the
three leaders had once again shared in the pleasures of their bodies, Hestia
was removed from the tent.
It happened while Shailaja
was still occupied with Velag and by the time he had finished with her and
she realized what was happening Hestia was
gone. She could have done little
in any case as Velag had decided that her use that night would be that much
more interesting if her wrists were bound to her
ankles. In this way Shailaja
was able to satisfy Velag with her loins while Gorvag used her
mouth. It kept her busy enough
that it was with some surprise that she noted the absent of her
companion.
Velag grinned at her
bemusement. “You sleep alone
from now on, barbarian. Prince
Bekor has special plans for her.”
Shailaja expected the news
could have been worse; she might have been forced to sleep with Velag, but
was not yet considered tamed enough for that honour; nor would she be if
she had her way.
No more was said about the
matter, nor did Shailaja ask, but she did not see Hestia the next day as
she was placed in her customary station behind the last
wagon. She kept her eyes open
for some sign of the queen, but her position was not the best for observing
anything in the procession.
The situation remained that
way for the next two days as the army slowly closed on Uvar until, on the
afternoon of the third day the city came into sight.
It was unchanged from the
time Shailaja had visited it some thirteen moons
before. It was a city of some
three thousand souls and was located on a slight rise that elevated it above
the plain. It was surrounded
by a stone wall some five yards high and almost two yards thick at the
base. Twenty towers of varying
heights reinforced the defences. By
the standards of many cities she had seen Uvar was neither imposing not
particularly well protected, however, it was typical of many cities of the
Arkanian Plain and if properly defended it would have presented the small
army commanded by Gorvag and his allied with some
challenges.
However, with their queen
a captive, and many of their best soldiers dead, Shailaja suspected the defence
might not be particularly well led.
By now Gorvag’s forces numbered some seven hundred men, including
Velag’s one hundred Belusendran warriors, and Bekor’s one hundred
and fifty foot soldiers and crossbowmen.
Of these Velag’s force, along a few of Gorvag’s men who
had trained under Den, were by far the best
soldiers. If they could somehow
get over the wall it would be all over for the defenders of the
city.
But getting over the wall
was the trick. For that ladders
and other siege equipment was needed, along with men brave enough to rush
the ladders to the walls and then climb them in the face of the
defenders.
Gorvag’s combined force
was large enough to successfully mount such an attack, however, there would
almost certainly be casualties and since the best troops would be needed
to lead the attack it meant that a number of Velag’s men along with
Bekor’s would be lost.
Shailaja knew all of this
from the discussions the three leaders had conducted during their nightly
sessions in Velag’s pavilion, and she also knew that both Velag and
Bekor had no desire to see their elite troops sacrificed in an attack on
Uvar’s walls. As a result
they had decided on tactics of
intimidation. They would surround
the city and then systematically lay waste to the surrounding countryside,
hoping to force surrender. Bekor
also had his own special plan involving his captive, but Shailaja was not
to know about that until later.
Camp was quickly set up
and the siege established.
Velag’s men were critical in cutting off the city as they were
entirely mounted and could engage in wide ranging patrols that would intercept
anyone attempting to reach the city.
The patrols were less effective at night but it was not thought that
much in the way of supplies could be smuggled in after
sundown.
There was one other aspect
to Gorvag’s strategy and that was the continuing recruiting of additional
rabble to serve as arrow fodder. If
it became necessary to storm the city these would be the first soldiers sent
against the walls, probably as a diversion while Velag’s more highly
trained men tackled another part of the city’s
walls.
It would not be a quick
conquest the way Gorvag and his allies had planned it, but it would keep
casualties to a minimum. Shailaja
had little use for such a strategy.
Had she been in charge of the siege matters would have occurred
differently. But then she could
never see any point in camping for months outside the wall of a city when
a quick assault would see her army over
them. This looked to her to be
a long drawn out process and she had little but contempt for Gorvag and his
allies. That contempt was magnified
by Bekor’s actions.
Interestingly, Bekor and
Shailaja were of a like mind about one thing, and that was that a lengthy
siege was not in his interest. It
was Bekor who tried to end the siege quickly, but not by any means that required
risk to him or his men.
On the second day of the
siege the Prince of Cebar appeared with his prize in
tow. In full sight of the walls
of the city he paraded the helpless and hapless form of its
queen. Hestia’s wrists were
bound behind her back, and her hair was
unbound. However, to anyone with
an eye there was no mistaking who she
was. Even stripped and reduced
to the status of a powerless captive, there was something regal about
Hestia. It had something to do
with the way she held her body and the way she
walked. From the walls of the
city cries of outrage were heard as the Uvarians witnessed the humiliation
of their queen.
It was hoped that the sight
of Hestia’s degradation would so enrage the Uvarians that it would draw
them out in a rash attack to rescue her.
With that in mind Velag had his entire force mounted in the hope that
the gates would open and he would be able to mount a charge that would see
the city in his hands. In order
to further encourage the Uvarians to attack Bekor paraded Hestia before the
walls just out of the range of a powerful
crossbow. He led her on a length
of rope that was tied about her neck while he rode his
horse.
“Uvarians,” Bekor
shouted. “See your
queen. She is mine to do with
as I wish. Spare her further
punishment and throw down your arms.
Those who do so will be spared and free to leave the
city. Refuse and she will be
subjected to further degradation.”
Shailaja knew, as did those
in the city, that Bekor had no intention of honouring any of his words, except
the part about further degrading Hestia, but it must have been soul-destroying
for the soldiers and citizens manning the walls to see their queen so brutalized,
and it was about to get much worse.
Bekor rode completely about
the city, shouting his message to all four walls before returning to where
he had begun. Hestia was hauled
barefoot and naked behind him, her feet bloody before the circuit was
completed. But with no response
from the people of Uvar he proceeded to the next stage of his
plan.
To no one’s surprise,
least of all the people of Uvar, Hestia was subjected to a brutal humiliation
before the walls of the city; and it was in the form of Bekor’s favourite
sort of punishment.
One of Gorvag’s scum
was selected; a man by the name of Mogan.
One of Gorvag’s more recent recruits, he was especially suited
to the spectacle Bekor wished to present. He stood a full head taller than
Shailaja and was massively muscled.
He was also terrifying in appearance, at least so far as most who
saw him were concerned. His body
was covered in ritualistic scars into which ink had been
rubbed. Shailaja later discovered
that he hailed from a part of Vedra called Chalsyn in which such marks were
common and indicated clan membership and status, but she had never seen such
markings before and neither had the people of
Uvar.
“Behold your queen,”
Bekor shouted. “Taken by
a mountain barbarian.”
The Uvarians were not to
know that Hestia had already been defiled more times than she could have
counted. They saw only that their
queen was being subjected to a savage and violent
degradation.
Shailaja watched from just
yards away as Hestia was taken. As
usual Velag had taken the usual precautions and had chained her wrists, this
time so that her hands were in front of
her. However, she was flanked
by two guards who kept a strong hold on her arms to make sure that she did
not attempt anything rash.
To make her humiliation
even more degrading Hestia was also held by two of Gorvag’s
men. The queen struggled frantically
as Mogon lifted her legs, parted them and stepped between her
thighs.
Hestia’s violation
presented a savage spectacle as she fought desperately to stave off the
inevitable. Struggling to break
free, her full, firm breasts shuddered and jiggled as she heaved her
body. But it was all to no
avail. Mogon forced her legs
apart, positioned his powerful body, and thrust into her.
Hestia screamed at his first
thrust and then cried even louder as he drove deep within
her. It was hideous and shameful
to witness such an ordeal and be helpless to do anything about it, but Shailaja
could not tear her gaze away. This
time, however, she felt no rising excitement within her; instead she was
filled with rage so intense that her vision clouded and she had to look away
from the bestial spectacle.
Hestia’s screams lasted
a good turn of the glass before Mogon was finished with the sobbing
queen. But still Uvar did not
open its gates, either to surrender or to stage a desperate
rescue. Shailaja fully expected
Hestia to be ravished again as an example to the town, but it appeared that
Bekor had something else planned, as with a final warning to the town, he
ordered the weeping queen to be returned to the camp.
The queen did not pass close
enough to Shailaja in order for her to carry out her
promise. She was ready enough
now after what had been done to her.
Surely any warrior would prefer death to such dishonour, but she had
not the opportunity and could only watch helplessly as Hestia was led
away.
After that Shailaja was
returned to Velag’s tent for the remainder of the
day. She expected that for now
that was all there would be to Hestia’s humiliation, but once again
she was proven wrong, although she did not realize it until
morning.
That night neither Bekor
nor Gorvag put in an appearance, and Velag had her to
himself. He took her long and
hard and took special care to remind her of her new status as a vessel for
his seed.
“I will have children
from you,” he panted as he thrust deep within
her. “They will make strong
warriors and if there are daughters they will serve my captains well as their
wives and concubines.”
There was nothing Shailaja
could say to that. As Velag’s
captive he could use her any way he
wished. So far he had been successful
in keeping her helpless. But
one day he would fail, and when he did she would take full advantage of his
carelessness and her vengeance would be terrible.
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