by Faith Eden
‘Well, why don’t you tell him that?’ Brin snapped. Sweat was pouring from his face and neck and running down inside his shirt, beneath the crested tabard. Like Gorus, he had removed his helmet and slung it from his saddle pommel. The two soldiers who sat on the driving bench at the front of the wagon had likewise discarded their headgear.
‘Damnation!’ Gorus gasped. ‘Have you ever known such heat as this?’ He swallowed and ran his tongue over his lips in an effort to moisten them.
‘I was once in Mesarium,’ Brin said, ‘and there was a heat wave there - very hot and very sticky, but I doubt it was any worse than this. At least the trees begin soon now, see.’ He pointed ahead, past the tail end of the main column. Up ahead the first part of the army was already in the outskirts of the woods, the dark green trees of which looked very inviting to the sun-scorched duo.
‘Maybe we can find an excuse to stop for a few moments,’ Gorus sighed. ‘I could pretend I thought this nag of mine was going lame and we could get ourselves a few minutes in some nice deep shade.’
‘Worth trying,’ Brin agreed. ‘The others could carry on at this pace and we could soon catch them up again.’
‘A snail could catch them up at this pace!’ Gorus scoffed. ‘We’re going even slower today than we were yesterday. If Fulgrim doesn’t rest up early tonight these wenches won’t even be any good for fucking soon!’
‘Neither will I,’ Brin moaned. ‘Neither will I.’
Jekka pushed her way through the tangled undergrowth and emerged into the clearing where Opal was helping Alanna into the one pony girl harness they so far had. Avoiding the older Valkyr’s direct gaze, she addressed her two countrywomen jointly.
‘We’ll have even less time once we’ve captured that rearguard party,’ she said. ‘Ceth is in charge of removing any corpses and getting them well clear of the road, just in case they should send any riders back afterwards, though I cannot imagine any reason for them doing so.’
‘Always the careful one, eh Jekka?’ Alanna chuckled. She peered down at herself and wriggled her breasts into a more comfortable position in their leather harness.
Jekka shrugged. ‘Better to be safe,’ she countered. ‘This is no band of drunken raiders coming our way, as I’m sure I have no need to remind my lady. If this goes badly, there will be no second chances, even if we should manage to escape with our lives.’
‘I don’t understand why we don’t just kill their leader, this Fulgrim,’ Opal said. She was kneeling in front of Alanna now, lacing the first hoof boot carefully up the Valkyr’s right leg. ‘Any one of us could lay wait in these trees and shoot him easily. The road is not so wide that a man could ride out of range.’
‘Except that he rides with a tight escort about him,’ Jekka said, ‘and in armour and a steel helmet. It is possible that a bolt could penetrate between the iron, but against a moving target it could not be guaranteed. A miss, or worse still a non-fatal wound, and we would set the whole hornet’s nest buzzing around us.
‘No, our best plan is still to hit them at their weakest point. The men riding in the rear will be tired, bored and wearied from breathing and swallowing the dust of the column in front of them. I think...’ Her words were cut short by a sudden rustling in the bushes behind her and the sound of angry female cursing. Jekka rounded on the intrusion, just in time to see Ceth thrust a very red-faced and bedraggled warrior girl into the clearing.
‘Moxie?’ Jekka and Alanna spoke together, but it was Jekka, the nearer to her, to whom the frightened maid-come-warrior girl appealed.
‘Oh, Mistress Jekka!’ she cried, tearing herself free from Ceth’s grasp and throwing herself about Jekka’s knees. ‘Please, I only want to help, but this swine wouldn’t believe me.’ Jekka smiled and held up a hand to the young trooper, who was hovering uncertainly.
‘It’s all right, Ceth,’ she said. ‘Moxie is a friend.’ She looked down at the girl and gently urged her to her feet. ‘Now, what on earth are you playing at, you silly child?’ she demanded, though not unkindly. ‘This is no game and certainly no place for you. Why do you think we slunk away from Garassotta without you in the first place?’
‘But I couldn’t just stay there not knowing,’ Moxie wailed. ‘I had to come. My lady is with those awful people and I must go to her if I can.’
‘And end up as another of their poor pony wenches and a plaything for their soldiers,’ Jekka replied, dryly. ‘Moxie, my faithful pretty little wench, you may dress as you do for your games, but this is a serious business and you have no experience of such things.’
‘Oh no?’ Moxie drew herself up defiantly. ‘I can shoot as well as anyone, save perhaps a Valkyr,’ she said. ‘Remember the fight at Varragol?’
‘Yes,’ Jekka nodded, for what Moxie said was true. She could shoot a crossbow with amazing accuracy, a legacy of hunting in the woods for rabbits for the pots at the tavern where Dorothea had found her and, despite her youth and inexperience, had done well in the brief battle against Fulgrim’s drunken raiders. This time, however, they were up against a small army and not just a few handfuls of Vorsans.
‘Yes, Moxie, I grant you can shoot very well indeed,’ she said, ‘but that time we had the element of surprise and this time we may not - not for long, anyway.’
‘I don’t care,’ Moxie shrilled. ‘I’ve come miles and miles through this awful land, dragging that stupid little cretin Pester every step of the way and I have as much right as you to be part of this now, whatever it is you plan.’
‘You’ve brought Pester with you?’ Jekka stared at her in amazement. ‘What possible use could that little fool be, apart from the obvious, I mean?’
‘Pester can also shoot,’ Moxie said loyally. ‘He was also in the hall at Varragol that night.’
‘And spent days weeping because he had killed two men, as I recall,’ Alanna interrupted, and Moxie, who had apparently not even noticed Alanna until now, stared at her and recoiled in horror.
‘Lady Alanna!’ she squealed. ‘What have they done to you? Your lovely hair and all this—’
‘Deception, Moxie,’ Alanna interrupted. ‘This is all part of the plan to rescue Lady Corinna.’
‘And Lady Dorothea too, of course?’
‘Of course,’ Jekka said. ‘If she is with this column and we can reach her, then we shall indeed rescue her too.’ In truth though, Jekka knew, they had given little thought to Dorothea’s plight, for they had heard and seen nothing of her at all and assumed that she was either dead or...
Or what, Jekka asked herself? Why should they assume anything about the woman, even though none of them, Moxie accepted, really liked her, let alone cared for her? After all, she had been part of Fulgrim and Willum’s original conspiracy, even though her motives had been, in her own eyes at least, based on a genuine belief that she had been wronged by Lundt. However, Jekka realised now, they should have given more thought to the poor woman, for now she thought about it, she realised there was no way that Fulgrim would kill her, at least not until he had fulfilled his military and political ambitions and made Dorothea suffer for as long as possible. Jekka laid a hand on Moxie’s shoulder.
‘We’ll find your lady, if it is at all humanly possible,’ she said, with a sigh. ‘But you must agree to do exactly as I tell you, no more and no less. Your bow, if you still have one, may be useful yet, but you must keep away from things you have no experience in.’
‘All right,’ Moxie agreed sullenly. ‘But I’m not as useless as you all seem to think,’ she added, brightening a little. ‘I’ve captured five slaves, all by myself. And a wagon - and lots of other useful things.’
‘Pecon’s slaves, I think,’ Jekka chuckled. ‘And his wagon, too. Tell me, Moxie girl, were there spare slave belts in that wagon? Maybe hoods and gags as well?’ Moxie nodded eagerly. ‘Good,’ Jekka smiled. ‘Then be a good girl and run back to that wagon and bring me as many of those
slave belts as you and Pester can carry between you. Bring the hoods and gags too, if you can manage them between you. Time is short, but if I remember rightly the wagon is only a short way from here, so you should be able to do it.’
‘What are you planning now, Jekka?’ Alanna demanded suspiciously, as Moxie pushed her way back into the woods and disappeared from sight. ‘You’re not going to use one of those belts to keep that poor girl out of the way, are you? She may be no warrior, but she is braver than she has any right to be and it would be too cruel to leave her behind yet again.’
‘No, my lady,’ Jekka grinned, ‘though that might not be such a bad idea. But she does shoot well, as she said, and a couple more bows may yet prove useful before this venture is finished. No, those belts will make it easy to subdue the pony slaves we replace and it may also be useful to take one or two of those Vorsans alive for questioning and as hostages.’
‘You think our threatening to kill a couple of his troopers would make Fulgrim so much as hesitate, do you?’ Alanna scoffed. ‘I somehow think not.’
‘And neither do I,’ Jekka said. ‘But it might give cause for second thoughts to a few of their fellows and who knows how this thing may go?’
‘Better prepared than not, eh Jekka?’ Alanna chuckled, and then winced as Opal pulled on the strap that held the protective crotch piece at the rear. ‘Damn it, girl!’ she snapped. ‘Go easy there, or you’ll cut your Queen’s daughter in two, I swear!’
Ingrim wiped his forehead with the damp cloth and muttered an obscenity under his breath. Alongside him, Minnie lay naked and dozing, her youthful body covered in a sheen of perspiration, while Moanie crouched between his legs, her willing mouth working hard to coax him back to an erection.
‘Leave it,’ he snapped irritably, leaning forward to deliver a sharp slap across her boyish rump. ‘It’s far too damned hot for that now.’ Moanie looked up, a pained expression on her elfin features.
‘Shall I wash you perhaps, master?’ she suggested. She still cradled Ingrim’s unreasoning member in one hand and seemed uncertain whether to release it or not.
Ingrim sighed. ‘What with, your tongue?’ he demanded. ‘The water is getting short now and we must conserve the rest for drinking. I may be a captain, but if I go up to the water wagon and demand more, tongues may wag. Soldiers don’t wash on a march like this, girlie.’
‘They must smell horribly then,’ Moanie retorted, wrinkling her small nose in an expression of disgust.
‘They do,’ Minnie moaned, opening one eye and grimacing. ‘Or hadn’t you noticed?’ Ingrim glared at her, but Moanie intervened, quickly.
‘I’m sure Minnie isn’t talking about you, our master,’ she gushed. ‘She means those horrid common soldiers out there. They spend all day riding and all night with the pony women and they never wash, some of them not even when we’ve come to a stream.’
‘It’s what soldiers do,’ Ingrim muttered. He placed a hand on his chest, feeling the slippery flesh. ‘Moanie, you useless little bitch,’ he snapped, ‘find something to wipe me down with.’ Moanie looked about her, but all that was to hand was the scrap of linen that served as her tunic. She held this up and tilted her head to one side.
‘There’s this, master?’ she suggested. ‘Or perhaps I could use my tongue?’ Ingrim was about to slap her again, but had second thoughts.
‘Wipe me down first,’ he instructed her. ‘Use that thing you call a dress and then afterwards we’ll see how your tongue feels. If nothing else, maybe it’ll take my mind off this cursed heat.’
‘You just wait here, Pester,’ Moxie said. The little page looked even more frightened and fragile than usual, she thought, and it had taken all her powers of persuasion, accompanied by a hefty kick from her booted right foot to persuade him even to help her carry the spare slave belts and hoods from the wagon.
Jekka had received the booty gleefully. ‘Just perfect, Moxie,’ she told the maid, who beamed proudly up at her. ‘Now, I want you to take charge of these and be ready to bring them out when I call to you. Until then, however, I want you to stay well down and out of sight. I cannot afford to have you shot, understand? I need someone who is practised with these slave straps and I know you are certainly that.’
‘We’ve got a very important task to do, Pester,’ Moxie now whispered to the page. ‘Mistress Jekka and her friends are fine warriors, but they know little of the art of the slave mistress, so that is up to us. Now, I know you’re scared out of what few brains you have, my little sweetie, but you just make sure you follow me when I tell you and do exactly what I do.’ Her eyes narrowed and her mouth took on a hard line.
‘And if you don’t,’ she hissed, ‘I’ll tell all those big hairy Vorsan soldiers just how much of a girl you really are and how you just love having big cocks up your pretty little backside.’
‘You wouldn’t!’ Pester whimpered.
Moxie glowered at him. ‘Yes I would,’ she asserted. ‘Oh yes I would!’
‘Damnation and balls!’ Gorus cursed.
Brin looked across at him. ‘What’s up with you now, old man?’ he demanded irritably. They were well into the forest now, but the sun was almost directly overhead, so that the screen of trees on either side of the road offered no protection from its unforgiving glare.
‘My horse,’ Gorus said, reining his mount to a halt and pointing downwards. ‘The damned nag really has gone lame.’ Behind them the wagon, the other two horse troopers, the four slave women and the one handler that had been assigned to their party that day came to a halt too.
‘Shame,’ Brin muttered. ‘You’ll have to get off and lead him then, won’t you?’
Gorus slid from the saddle and stood uncertainly for a few moments. ‘Here,’ he said, passing the bridle rein up to Brin. ‘Keep hold of that for a moment and I’ll go and have a word with the captain. There may just be something stuck in the hoof, so I may as well check it and even a few minutes off the road out of this sun has got to be better than nothing.
‘I expect his nibs will agree,’ he continued, turning to trek back to the wagon. ‘It must be almost as hot in there as it is out here.’
Gorus was back a few minutes later, grinning triumphantly. He waved his arm towards the left hand side of the road, where several large trees overhung a grassy strip of verge.
‘Captain says we can stop for a while,’ he announced. ‘He says water those women and let them sit for a while, but not to get too comfortable yourselves, understand?’ There was a muffled chorus of grumblings and cursings as the mounted men turned their horses and the two on the wagon began to climb stiffly down.
Corinna had finally been released from between the shafts, but the wagon she found herself being taken to was not the one she had shared with Halit. Instead, she found herself being lifted bodily into an even larger wagon, tumbling helplessly over the tailboard and looking up into the leering face of Fulgrim.
‘You do not look pleased to see me, Princess Tits!’ the Vorsan nobleman exclaimed, feigning offence. ‘And there was I thinking you would appreciate a little rest. Come, get yourself up and sit here, opposite me.’ With her wrists still secured to her girth, it took Corinna all her ingenuity to struggle into a sitting position in the confined space.
‘That’s better,’ Fulgrim nodded. ‘Doesn’t that feel better, Tits?’ Dumbly, her mouth still distorted by her bit gag, Corinna nodded at him. ‘Yes, much better,’ Fulgrim continued, almost absently. He was picking at his fingernails, as if his mind was preoccupied with something and for a moment Corinna felt a pang of dread lance through her. Had Halit after all betrayed her secret to this madman? If that was so, the wooden ‘throne’ he had devised for displaying her before the walls of Garassotta would be nothing compared to what he might finally do to her.
‘I have been speaking with the Karliean, Halit,’ Fulgrim said at last. Corinna’s heart dropped another level and her stomac
h rose to meet it. ‘As he has probably told you, I have said that I shall give you to him after this campaign has been won.’
Corinna held her breath, not daring to hope.
‘It would appear young Halit is very much taken with you, Tits,’ Fulgrim chuckled. ‘But then who wouldn’t be, given those beautiful big tits and great soft eyes of yours, eh? I’m quite taken with you myself, you’ll be pleased and honoured to know, and I even gave some thought to offering Halit a couple of other wenches to choose from, but no,’ he continued and Corinna’s heart began to beat again, ‘I have given him my word and he has given me valuable service.
‘It was he who told me of the camp at Erisroth and gave me the idea of using you women to carry most of our baggage and equipment. He used to be a soldier in our army, did he tell you that? Of course, no non-Vorsan can rise to become an officer, so I offered him a special job. That was two years ago now, before my little trouble with those treacherous dogs at Varragol, but that of course will mean nothing to you.
‘No, Flix, all you need to know is that I am giving you to a loyal and trusted servant of my state and I expect you to serve him well, girl. However, I am minded to sample your delights further for myself first, preferably before you ride in triumph on your throne.’
Corinna swallowed. She had been dreading such a thing, but at least it was better than being discovered for who she really was.
‘Yes,’ Fulgrim was continuing, ‘I had hoped that I would have the pleasure of Corinna’s services again, but that is sadly not going to happen.’ He looked pensive for a moment. ‘Yes, that is indeed sad,’ he said, this time almost as if he were speaking to himself.
