Bridled Lust

by Faith Eden

  ‘However,’ he said more firmly, ‘I have the next best thing with you, Flix, so you and I are going to play a little game. You will pretend that you are indeed Corinna and you will answer to her name and you will pleasure me as if there is no tomorrow and with, I hope, a little less reluctance than that haughty little bitch once showed.’

  ‘This is almost too good to be true,’ Jekka hissed.

  Behind her, Savatch leaned forward and peered between the leaves. ‘They’ve stopped quite a way back,’ he observed. ‘We have everyone positioned up here. If we try moving back down that way we risk the chance of being observed and losing the element of surprise.’

  ‘Not if we give them a distraction,’ Jekka smirked. ‘And they all look as if they could use a distraction, judging by the way their shoulders are slumped. Be ready to move your men as soon as I give the word,’ she said. ‘I’ll go to Alanna and get the fun started.’

  She started to back away, but stopped for a moment and turned to Savatch. Without warning, she seized his face in her hands and kissed him, her tongue thrusting deeply into his mouth with such force that he all but choked.

  ‘That’s for being the bastard you are!’ she gasped, pulling back again. ‘And to remind you of some of what you might miss if you get too careless this day.’ She grinned and turned away once more, calling back over her shoulder as she went. ‘Good luck, my lord - take care, my master.’

  It was Brin who saw her first, but the heat and fatigue meant that it took him several seconds to realise what he was looking at. When he finally understood he turned, grabbing at Gorus’ arm.

  ‘Hey look!’ he exclaimed. ‘Do you see what I see, or am I imagining things?’

  Gorus, who had been more interested in a sore knee up to this point, looked around irritably.

  ‘What the hell now?’ he grunted, but as he saw the pony girl that was the object of Brin’s attention, his eyes widened. ‘How did she get here?’ He swung around again, checking to make sure that their original complement of slaves was still intact. ‘Well, she’s not one of ours.’

  The girl stood now about fifty paces along the road from where the group had pulled off under the trees, feet planted wide apart, hands held to her hips by her harness, tossing her pale brown mane in a defiant attitude.

  ‘She must have broken loose from somewhere in the main column,’ Brin said. ‘But why haven’t they sent someone back for her?’

  ‘Probably all half asleep,’ Gorus said. He took two or three steps in the girl’s direction, but she made no sign of moving away. He chuckled. ‘Well, she certainly looks in a lot better condition than these sorry fillies,’ he said. ‘Look at those legs on her, too! I wouldn’t mind them wrapped about my ears, I can tell you.’

  ‘Hadn’t we better grab hold of her?’ Brin suggested. ‘Can’t just let her run loose, can we?’

  ‘No, we can’t do that,’ Gorus said. He looked around at the rest of their party, but neither the other troopers nor the slaves and their handler seemed to have seen the girl, preferring to lay on the grass with their eyes closed and make the most of their halt.

  ‘Catch her quick,’ Gorus said quietly, ‘and we could have ourselves a little bit of fun with her before we have to move off again. Reckon I could sort her out without too much trouble.’

  ‘Me too,’ Brin snickered. ‘But I’m the one with the horse, so I reckon I’ll get there first. Don’t worry,’ he added, swinging up into the saddle, ‘I’ll make sure she’s good and wet for you, old man.’

  Jekka crouched low in the bushes, peering through the thick foliage as Alanna loped out onto the trail, still awkward in the hoof boots, but managing to keep her balance well enough for their purposes. For a few moments it seemed that none of the soldiers was going to see her, but then the two nearer troopers began pointing and talking and one of them finally remounted.

  The other one for some reason did not bother with his mount, but instead began to run along the trail, shouting obscenities after his companion and waving his arms in the air. This commotion quickly attracted the attention of the remaining men in the group and two of them also began to follow, but at a more sedate walking pace.

  Standing in the middle of the road, Alanna waited, making no attempt to flee from the approaching horseman. Jekka smiled and carefully cradled the stock of her crossbow against her shoulder, squinting through the V shape of the sight and steadying her aim on the trooper who was still stumbling after the horseman.

  ‘Almost too easy,’ she whispered. ‘Men are so damned predictable when it comes to some things.’

  Brin reined in his horse beside the tall pony girl, but no sooner had he done so than she span around and began trotting away towards the bushes to the left. Cursing, he spurred his mount forward again, determined to reach her before Gorus caught up with them, but the fleeing female darted between two bushes and disappeared from his view.

  ‘Bitch!’ he shouted, laughing. ‘Why not save your strength for some worthwhile exercise.’ He pulled his horse up at the point where she had left the trail and vaulted from the saddle. ‘Waste of time, slut!’ he called after her. ‘I’ll have you anyway!’ After all, he reasoned, in those boots and without her hands to help her, she could not move that fast.

  He plunged into the undergrowth, arms flailing at the trailing branches, certain that he would have his quarry within a few yards and then she was there before him, standing perfectly still again in a clear space between two giant pine trees. Her eyes glared back at him as he moved towards her and he vaguely registered that she seemed abnormally calm, her breathing less laboured than he would have expected.

  ‘That’s better,’ he chuckled. ‘No point in doing too much running about in this heat, is there?’ He stopped again, admiring the lean lines of her body, the unusually pale skin framed by the dark leather harnessing. ‘Well,’ he said appreciatively, ‘you look like a real thoroughbred, pony wench. I think I’m going to enjoy this.’

  He could not have been more wrong, but Brin did not live long enough to truly appreciate the gravity of his error. At the last moment he did see that the pony girl’s arms no longer were fastened to her sides, but even while he was assimilating this fact the heavy hoof boot crashed into his groin and, as his world went red, he did not even see the hand that chopped into the side of his neck and ended his life so easily.

  Jekka sprinted towards the wagon, leaping over the body of the trooper she had shot and drawing her sword as she ran.

  ‘No!’ she shouted. ‘Don’t kill them all! I want to question at least one of the bastards.’ The order came just in time, for the young Illeans, having fallen on a completely surprised enemy, had already slaughtered three of the troopers and Ceth was on the point of running his sword through the Karliean handler, who had tried to run from the fight only to trip over the legs of one of his charges and fall headlong, knocking the wind out of his lungs. The surviving Vorsan, hearing Jekka’s cry, immediately threw down his sword and put his hands high in the air.

  ‘Get them on their knees,’ Jekka snapped, indicating the Vorsan and the stunned handler. ‘Moxie!’ She spun around, calling into the bushes. ‘Get those things out here and be quick about it. Ceth, bind them quickly and watch them well, while I see what’s in this wagon.’ She sprinted past her young Illean and slid to a halt at the back of the wagon. Four pairs of startled female eyes watched her progress, but not one of the pony slaves uttered a sound.

  ‘Right then, let’s see what we’ve got here!’ Jekka exclaimed, throwing aside the canvas flap. Three pairs of eyes stared back at her - four frightened saucers and two defiant slits.

  ‘Drop the knife, you fat Vorsan pig!’ Jekka hissed, sizing up the situation in less than a second. Niti Ingrim, his knife held unwaveringly at the throat of a naked and very frightened Moanie, shook his head.

  ‘If you try to come up here,’ he growled, ‘I’ll slit this bitch’s p
retty throat and then I’ll do the same to her little friend.’ Moanie immediately lived up to her name and at the same time lost control of her bladder. Minnie, crouched against the side of the wagon, covered her eyes with her hands and let out a high-pitched wail.

  Jekka stood for a moment and then drew back the loose sleeve of her tunic, exposing the miniature crossbow that was, as ever, strapped to her forearm. She smiled at Ingrim, a horrible, reptilian leer.

  ‘Slit her throat, if you will,’ she replied, pursing her lips into a mockery of a kiss. ‘I’ll put a bolt in your bollocks before you touch her friend, though.’ Ingrim seemed shocked and totally confused by this, and Jekka seized on the initiative she had gained and began to laugh.

  ‘Are all you Vorsans so stupid that you have to think with your pricks?’ she cried. ‘Look carefully, fat man. Go on, look at me and tell me what you see, apart from the fact that my hair is now brown and cut so terribly.’ Ingrim’s face suddenly lost its entire colour and the knife at Moanie’s throat began to quiver.

  ‘No, you can’t be!’ he gasped. ‘You’re a bloody Valkyr! But how—?’

  ‘“How” is not your problem, piglet,’ Jekka retorted grimly. ‘But I am, if you don’t drop that knife. Let the girls go unharmed and you have my word that you will live, so long as you answer a few questions I have for you.’

  ‘I can almost believe you are her,’ Fulgrim grunted, thrusting deeply into Corinna. He held himself on his hands and arms, hovering over her prone body in the back of his gently lurching wagon. ‘Dammit, but she was beautiful, too.’ He pumped in and out of her again and Corinna groaned, hating her body for responding as it did, even though the man responsible was the most loathsome creature she had ever known. Her fists clenched in their tight leather mitts and she tried to imagine she was back with Savatch.

  Or Halit.

  No, Savatch. The wagon bumped over something and he was Halit. Corinna opened her eyes, staring up into the hated face and groaned. Fulgrim chuckled, interpreting the sound as something it only half was. One hand grasped at a breast and squeezed.

  ‘Be thankful you aren’t her, Flix,’ he rasped. ‘If you were, I’d have you hanging by these tit rings by now, hanging until you begged me to fuck you!’ Corinna gnawed on the bit gag, trying to thrust that particular image from her mind and hating herself for what she had become, only too well aware of the welling tide within her and that even her most vicious enemy could force her to surrender to it.

  Above her, Fulgrim settled into a steady, pounding rhythm, his pubic bone grinding into hers at every thrust, his eyes beginning to glaze over as he wallowed in a fantasy world that, had he but known it, was every bit as real as the sweating, trembling female beneath him.

  ‘So far, so good,’ Jekka said. She held up one hand and began ticking off on the fingers, as Moxie and Ceth hastened to fasten her into one of the captured pony girl harnesses.

  ‘We’ve killed four of them and captured two soldiers and the handler alive, if a bit bruised, and we’ve got the fat bastard, too. He’s an officer and pretty close to Fulgrim himself. Seems he led the raid to capture Varragol.’

  ‘He’s a nobleman?’ Savatch asked.

  Jekka shook her head. ‘No, just a very good soldier who’s come up through the ranks. Even better than one of their aristocrats, in many ways. He knows almost everything that Fulgrim is planning.’

  ‘Does he know where Corinna is, though?’

  ‘Not precisely,’ Jekka replied. ‘Assuming he’s talking about the right girl - and they don’t know her true identity, from what he tells me - then she was riding in a wagon with one of the handlers, some favourite of Fulgrim’s apparently. But today there are lots of the girls in the wagons. The journey is proving a little arduous for those poor creatures.’

  ‘I haven’t had enough time to find out that much, obviously,’ she continued, wincing as Moxie tightened a halter strap. ‘Give me two hours with him and I’d know a lot more, but we don’t have that much time.’

  ‘We can question him properly later,’ Savatch said, ‘always assuming there is a later.’ He winked at her. ‘For the present, however, I have a better use for him. If we put him back in the wagon, suitably bound and gagged, he could prove useful if we run into trouble later. He seems to respond quite well to a knife at his throat, so we could use him to get past some of their pickets.’

  ‘Yes,’ Jekka agreed. ‘He may be a good soldier, but I think he’s one who will look after his own skin first. You’ll be riding with him, I suppose?’

  ‘With him and with his two little slaves. We can put harnesses, gags and even hoods on them and no one will think anything of it. I can squeeze myself between the boxes and sacks, with a knife to hand and also a bow. The brave captain can then get under a blanket with the girls and no one will dare to disturb him, save perhaps for Fulgrim and, if I have a bow as I said, it’ll be the last thing that bastard ever does.’

  ‘A bolt through the heart would be too good for him,’ Jekka growled, ‘but better that than letting him live to inflict more terror on this world.’

  She stepped into the second hoof boot and Moxie stooped to begin lacing it. ‘I’ll be ready in a few more minutes,’ she said. ‘Opal and Alanna are already prepared, as you can see.’ She nodded towards an overhanging tree, beneath which the other two Valkyrs stood attired as pony slaves, only the placement of their bits into their mouths now required to complete the image.

  ‘I think Fulgrim will camp once the column is clear of the woods,’ Jekka said, ‘which will be another four or five hours yet. That means there could be several changes of pony slaves between now and then, so we may not see each other again until after dark, my lord.’

  ‘No, I know,’ Savatch said. ‘But at least we may have the chance to deal with a few more of their number in the meantime. Two of our lads are dark enough to pass as handlers, too, so Fulgrim may find himself with almost all our little force inside his defences by tonight.

  ‘Apart from Pecon and one man to guard the other prisoners and those poor girls whose places you are taking, the rest of us will be there with you. Apart from Moxie here and Pester, of course.’ He chuckled. ‘You know she wanted to join the three of you in harness? She was furious when I told her no and barely pacified when I said she was needed to help guard the prisoners. But that is an important task, Moxie, truly it is,’ he added, as Moxie scowled at him.

  ‘And don’t forget, my lord,’ Jekka said. ‘Any carts in which you hide weapons should be marked with that white dye I gave you. They’ll hardly be likely to leave us between the shafts all night, so we must be able to locate our own carts as quickly as possible when the time comes.

  ‘You will keep most of the fire bottles in the wagon with you now?’ she added. Savatch nodded. ‘And I have one powder packet concealed in each of these sleeve things,’ she said, holding up her arms. Savatch peered closely, but only because he knew what he was looking for could he see the slight bulges on the insides of her upper arms.

  ‘Then all is more or less ready?’ Savatch said. Jekka nodded and looked steadily back into his face, which was now as expressionless as she knew her own to be.

  ‘More or less, my lord,’ she replied evenly. ‘So, perhaps you should prepare our little caravan to move off once more. If we fall too far behind someone up there may grow suspicious.’

  ‘We will all be ready as soon as you are,’ Savatch assured her.

  Jekka breathed in, wincing as the tight girth cut into her. ‘I am ready now, my lord,’ she said quietly. ‘I just need to wait for my attendants here to finish preparing me and then we can go.’

  Chapter 6

  Savatch leaned forward over the boxes and sacks and peered past the two Illeans who had replaced the now dead Vorsans on the driving seat of the wagon. Beyond them, the coffle of four pony girls trudged with head suitably lowered - three acting their role perfectly, the fourth s
till bemused by events and unable to protest or even ask questions because of her bit gag, because she was exhausted, ached and once again now thinking only of the end of the day and the opportunity to rest from the heat and toil.

  Ahead of the girls, two more of the Illean troopers now rode in Vorsan uniforms, their faces partially obscured by the captured helmets they wore. The Vorsans they were replacing had ridden with these slung from their saddles, thinking this would be much cooler on their heads, but in fact as Savatch had pointed out to them, the polished metal would reflect more heat than it absorbed and, although the small rearguard party had obviously been subject to a less rigid discipline than their counterparts in the main column, to ride bareheaded was a breach of discipline and the helmets also contributed to their disguise.

  ‘Call up to those lads and tell them not to go quite so fast,’ Savatch ordered the wagon driver’s companion. ‘That’s the back of their column up ahead and as long as they can see we’re still following, there’s no need to go too close yet.’ The trooper jumped down from the slow moving wagon and ran ahead to deliver Savatch’s order.

  The distance between them and the last riders in the main army was now about two hundred paces, close enough for them to see and be seen, but far enough away for them to appear simply as indistinct figures. Savatch turned and addressed the huddled form of Ingrim, who was all but hidden beneath a rough blanket. He was not yet gagged, but beneath the cover he was naked and held helplessly in one of the slave harnesses Moxie had brought from Pecon’s wagon.

  ‘If anyone does ride back here, captain,’ Savatch said, ‘or indeed, if we stop to change over any of the girls, you will say nothing unless anyone tries to interfere with the wagon itself and you will then simply tell them that you are otherwise engaged.’ He smiled at the two slave maids, also harnessed, but also gagged and with hoods hanging from their necks, ready for use if required.