The lid of the box that held me was removed. I saw four men, two of whom were my abductors, the other two unknown to me. They lifted me out of the cart, and immediately I began to struggle and kick at them.
“Hold it there, wild thing,” one of the other two said with a laugh.
“Keep it down, or we’ll change our minds and kill you after all,” one of my abductors said. His implication that they did not intend to murder me halted my struggling. I clung to the fervent hope that these men would betray Sashken and were, in fact, turning me over to someone who would take me home.
“There now,” said the second new man, “that’s a good girl. Let’s just see what you’ve got to offer then.” He approached where I stood, my bound arms held tightly by one abductor and the other new man. He lifted my chin and examined my face and hair in a very odd manner.
“We have no use for one with child,” said the new man who held me.
“She’s a pretty thing, though. Look at these,” he said as he grabbed at my breasts. I struggled again in outrage, trying to wriggle myself from their grasp. “And spirited too. Wonderful hair, reddish even in this thin light, down to the backs of her knees. That’s usually popular.” The brute turned to my abductors and said, “Two hundred.”
“She’ll be sought after, you fool! We’ve had to travel without rest and sweep our tracks as we went! Six hundred, not a coin less!”
I’m being sold! I realized indignantly. The wretched pigs are selling me!
“Come now,” said one of the buying men. “She’s pretty, but we’ll get a lower price what with the child and all. She won’t be any good to them for months! Plus if you’re as likely to have been followed as you say, that makes it more dangerous for us until we cross the border. Three hundred.”
They continued to haggle as though I were a used kitchen pot. I was outraged but then realized that, given the choice between being sold and being killed, being sold was better. At least that gave me more time to escape.
They settled finally on a price of four hundred fifty gold and that the sellers could take my gold necklace as well. I wept but allowed the men who bought me to take me to their caravan. They were gentler than the other two, putting me on a pile of clothing to be traded instead of in a wooden box. I continued to cry quietly nonetheless, wondering how any man could participate in such a brutish exchange.
We started moving, one of them out driving the caravan, the other sitting inside it with me, watching me to ensure I didn’t attempt to escape. I looked at him with eyes full of sad disgust. He was clearly uncomfortable under my stare, and I found myself hoping I could convince him to release me, despite the enormous sum that he and his partner had paid.
Eventually he spoke. “If you think you can behave, I’ll take off your gag and give you something to eat. But I warn you, if you make me regret my choice you’ll go hungry and thirsty the whole way.”
I nodded, and he leaned forward to gently remove my gag. I coughed and stretched my aching jaw. “How can you do this?” I whispered.
“Nothing personal, pretty girl. Just business,” he said as he put a piece of fruit in my hands. Hungry, I devoured it quickly, weeping quietly as I ate. When I finished, he took the core away and discarded it.
Looking at him pleadingly, I asked, “Do you know who I am?”
“No. Don’t care, either. Whoever you were doesn’t matter any more. Better get used to that.”
“What if I told you my husband, Prince Kurit, will no doubt be searching for me with all of the King’s Guard behind him?”
His eyes widened in shock. He rose quickly and pounded on the front wall of the caravan. It came to a stop, and the other man soon opened the back doors.
“What is it?” he shouted.
“She says her husband is the Prince of Keshaerlan!”
The other man sneered at me. “Sure he is. And I’m the High Abbott of Maellorn. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Highness.”
His attitude enraged me. “Feel free to doubt my words, but I assure you, my Kurit must already be frantically searching for me, and my Champion Jarik as well. They’ll have every King’s Guard, every soldier, and every Lord looking for me. I’m carrying the heir to the throne of Keshaerlan in my womb! A fiendish woman of the court had me abducted and ordered me killed because she yearns foolishly to steal my husband from me.
“Now, you have the opportunity to win the everlasting favour of the royal family and every Lord under them. I suspect we must be in or close to Alesha. Take me to Lord Cael. You will be handsomely rewarded what you paid for me many times over if I am taken safely there. I promise you that.”
The one in the caravan was convinced, that I could tell for certain. But the one who stood outside clearly thought I was telling a desperate tale to save myself. He laughed at me and closed the doors.
I leaned my head back on the wall of the caravan and wept. The man with me looked very worried, so I tried to exploit that. “I’m telling the truth. Please, if he won’t listen, you can still save me. If not for me, please, I beg for my husband and child’s sake. My poor Kurit, he’ll be mad with fear for me. He’s probably on his horse right now, searching frantically. Please take me home to him.”
The man clamped his hands over his ears to shut out my words. “Enough,” he grumbled. “I can’t help you.”
My options exhausted, I wept quietly until the caravan stopped again some time later. The other man came around back and opened the doors.
“I’m taking her to relieve herself before she stinks up the merchandise,” he said, dragging me out of the caravan. He tied a rope to my arm bonds and turned his back to me. How humbling it was, to squat in open land and do what I had to do. But it was better than soiling myself again, and I was glad to be spared that. I suppose I should have also been thankful that he neither watched me nor held my arms, but it was rather difficult to be thankful of anything at the time.
I was loaded back in the caravan, and we were off again. The numbing depression returned, and I sat in half-conscious misery until we reached our destination the next day.
I was unloaded roughly from the caravan into the bright light of mid-day. I squinted against the glare and heard a man with a strange, purring accent say, “Careful now. If you damage her, I won’t take her.” I had never seen a Wusul before, but I had heard enough stories as a child to recognize him to be one. His clothes were very odd, made more from skins than cloth and dotted with metal studs on the shoulders. He looked normal enough, but the short crop of yellowish hair was the obvious confirmation. All Wusuls were said to have this strange colour of hair.
“Don’t think I’m going to pay you for the child,” he said to the men who had brought me there. “I have no use for the child. The girl is pretty enough, though. Ran Kei-Galu likes the flame-haired ones well.”
“Which is why we brought her here instead of to Ran Kei-Mosun,” the one who had driven the caravan replied.
In my depressed, vaguely aware state, I realized I was being sold, likely as a concubine, to some Wusul lord. Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks, but I was too weak and tired to even try to wrestle myself away. Not that I could have gone far with my legs still bound and many spear-armed Wusul guards gathered about to gawk.
“Good, then,” said the Wusul man. He called to some guards and ordered them to take me to a cell. “We’ll keep her down there until she bears the child. We’ll dispose of it quickly. and she can begin service to the Ran.” The guards started to drag me away, but having heard that the barbarian intended to kill my child upon its birth, my energy returned and I struggled against them, screaming.
“You can’t do this! I am the wife of the heir to the Keshaerlan throne! If you kill his child I swear to you he’ll bring the wrath of the King’s army upon you,” I growled, but still the guards took me away.
“Is she serious or is she crazed?” the Wusul asked.
“Temporarily crazed by the travel, I assure you,” I heard the wretched fiend who had so
ld me reply. “We bought her from a pair of vagabonds. No Princess would be outside her palace without a mad chase of guards behind her. Now, shall we say a thousand, then? Quite the bargain for that little beauty …” I was dragged inside and heard no more of what they said.
I was freed of my bonds and dumped in a straw-lined room of stone, the entrance wall made of thick metal bars. I cried out repeated threats of war, of armies that would seek me, but nobody listened, so I soon gave up.
A short time later, a woman with that same odd hair wrapped strangely in rolls at the sides of her head came to see me. She had the most bizarre form—a large bosom and equally large hips, but her waist in the middle was squeezed so tightly that I wondered how she lived. I imagined a man of Jarik’s size could almost put his hands entirely around her waist at its narrowest point.
The thought of my good Jarik tore at my heart. I wondered if he was furious and calling for me or perhaps cold and dark, brooding remorsefully as he searched.
My thoughts of him were banished quickly as the woman began to speak in that same purring accent. “I am Ras Mei-Risha-Galu. You shall call me Ras Risha. In your land, that would be equivalent to Lady Risha. I am the sister of Ran Kei-Galu, your new Lord, as you would think of him. I am in charge of his concubines, of which you shall be one. It is a high honour to be a concubine to a Ran. If you behave as is fitting, you shall live comfortably in the Ran’s graces. If you are foolish, you will be branded and sent to work as a scullery slave, if not executed. Do you understand me?”
“I carry the heir to the throne of Keshaerlan. If you make me your slave and kill my child—”
“So I’ve heard you claim. I care not,” she said without emotion. “You are now San-Galu, which means ‘servant of Ran Kei-Galu’. If you enter his graces, he may one day grant you a name of your own. Meals will be brought to you here in your cell for now. Once you have birthed your child and it is disposed of, you will be allowed to reside in the lower halls with the other concubines.” Her message delivered, she took her leave.
I put my hands protectively over my belly. Silently, I promised my unborn son or daughter that I would protect them, that somehow I would prevent them from being killed in their first innocent breaths.
After the sun had set, which I could see through a tiny window at the top of the cell, a guard with a full tray of food came down the stairs that led to the cells. He opened the door to put it on the floor and sat to watch me eat. I ate everything that was offered, not even tasting it.
I saw that the guard looked at me with lust in his eye. Quickly, I devised a plan of escape. My mind reeled with a thousand reasons why the plan would fail and I would end up dead. I didn’t care. I had to try, for the sake of my child.
Yes, for my child, I told myself. I repeated it over and over in my head: For my child. For you, my unborn child.
I forced a lascivious smile onto my face, and gazed towards the guard. Catching his attention, I murmured, “Are all Wusul men as handsome as yourself?”
He laughed. “If you think you can flatter me into getting my keys, you’re mistaken, girl!”
Curse it, I thought. Don’t be so flagrant, or he’ll suspect you.
“I’m not so stupid as to consider the idea. I’m just curious if this Ran of which I’ve heard is as handsome. It might not be such a terrible thing to serve a handsome man.” Smiling as prettily as I could, I ran my fingers through my hair to tease him. Oh, how his eyes lit up at that; I realized these yellow-haired men liked the red Aleshan locks. I fiddled with the messy mop, dividing it roughly in half along the back, braiding one side slowly, then the other, as I smiled at him.
He moved himself in his seat, and I knew I had aroused him. Careful now, I coached myself. Don’t make him suspicious. And don’t show revulsion. This is for the child, my child, my innocent child.
I rose to my feet with as much grace as I could muster in my condition and walked to the bars. I wrapped my hands around them, and moved one finger up and down along the bar that I held in my right hand. “You see,” I said in a voice faking both sweetness and lust, “the truth is I am very poor. I have no means to support this child, and the father denies it is his. I’m a lowly barmaid, and my work has been hard and unpleasant. But if this Ran of yours is a handsome man and if Ras Risha speaks the truth, that good behaviour is rewarded, well then,” I giggled, “I’m willing to earn their graces, as it were.”
“I thought you were claiming to be the wife of the High Ran of Keshaerlan, or some such thing,” he said in suspicion, but still hanging on my every word.
I waved my hand to dismiss the notion. “That was a foolish lie. I feared I was to be thrown into your kitchens as a drudge! But since Ras Risha explained to me that I have the opportunity to live better than I quite honestly ever have before, I will admit that it was a lie.”
“You’re a smart thing, for a Keshaerlan brat,” he chided, leaning forward in his seat.
“I’m not stupid enough to waste an opportunity, if that’s what you mean.” I knew I had to lure him closer. Though the thought revolted me, I forced myself to remember my child. “Tell me, do the Wusul kiss as well as Keshaerlans?”
He laughed again. “Keshaerlan men are as boys, playing with blades without skill. If they kiss as poorly as they defend themselves, then, pretty thing, they’re no match to us.”
“Really?” I said with mock incredulity. “I’ve kissed many Keshaerlan men, and found it to be delightful every time. How do you think I ended up with this?” I said, pointing to my belly.
“Keshaerlan dogs have endowments the size of twigs. You will know true satisfaction at the whim of the Ran,” he said as he stared at my chest.
Fortunately, I had been wearing a front-laced gown when I was snatched away from my home. Swallowing my revulsion, I slowly unlaced the top and pulled the material aside, leaving only the thin undergarment covering my breasts. I loosened the drawstring at the neck and pulled the undergarment down, exposing my breasts fully to him as his eyes widened in delight.
“And tell me, handsome man, do Wusul women possess charms such as these?”
He rose from his seat and walked towards me. “If you think I’ll open the door for you, you’re wrong.”
“I expect no such thing. Your Ran would have your head for it. I just want to learn your ways as soon as I can. I’m very ambitious. If I am to be the Ran’s concubine, I want to be his favourite.” I leaned forward against the bars so my breasts hung outside the cell.
Smiling in arousal, the wretched guard put his hands on me, and I pretended to enjoy it. I let my head fall back and sighed happily as if he were giving me great pleasure, when in my heart and mind I was horrified at my own actions. For my child, I reminded myself. To save my child’s life.
I slipped my hands through the bars and danced my fingers up his arms to entice him further. “If you’re so sure that Keshaerlan men are poor kissers, why don’t you show me how well I’ll have it in Wusul?”
He leaned close as he groped my breasts, and I put my face between the bars to let him kiss me. Instead of paying attention to the quality or lack thereof in his kiss, I clasped my hands around the back of his neck and pulled him closer to me. He made a soft moan of pleasure, and I knew my plan was working. I kissed him as though I desired him greatly. At the same time, I slowly collected my long braids, first one, then the other, and wrapped my hair around his shoulders.
I leaned back slightly in the cell, just enough to entice him forward. Gradually, I exchanged the braids in my hands behind his neck, bringing the ends down across his shoulders and letting them hang there as I caressed his chest. He didn’t even notice as I crossed the ends of the braids again, forming two loops of my braided hair around his throat.
In one sudden move I yanked on my hair, cutting off his breath without notice. He tried to move back in alarm, but I had the ends of my hair wound between my fingers for a better grip. I pulled tighter as his hands left my breasts to beat at the bars in an attempt
to push himself away. I leaned my body back and head forward so he could not easily grab my chest again, but instead he tried to reach though the bars to grab at my own throat, a look of furious horror on his face as he sputtered and gasped.
By then, though, he was flailing so wildly that he could not manage to get both hands through the right bars to access my neck. He managed to get one through by my cheek, which he clawed frantically as his face turned purple. If he had had any appreciable length of fingernails, I’d likely be scarred to this day, but fortunately all he managed to do was bruise me slightly.
I thought of them taking my child away. I imagined them carrying away the crying infant to go and destroy it. I became enraged and pulled my hair tighter, almost losing the grip on one side. I could feel some hairs break as others dug into my fingers. “No one shall harm my baby!” I spat through teeth gritted in fury and effort.
Soon his eyes rolled back into his head and he began to collapse. Still I held on, even as his limp form sank to the floor. I bent down with him, losing grip of one of the braids, but keeping the other tight as I recovered the lost one. I pulled and pulled, not stopping, certain that if I did he would breathe again and call out for help.
When finally his lips had turned a hideous blue and his eyes had rolled back down to stare at me, cold and dead, I released my grip. I put my hands to my face, still curled from the tight grip, unable to unclench them.
I looked at him there on the floor. I could not believe what I had done. I had killed a man. I had committed the greatest transgression one could against the Gods, and I was ashamed.
“For you, my child,” I whispered, putting my trembling, curled hands to my belly. I felt as though I might be ill, but I forced myself to be calm and hurry with what needed to be done. Reaching out between the bars, I pulled the ring of keys from its hook on his belt. Shaking, I tried them one by one until I found the one that unlocked the cell door. I pushed it open slowly, lest it creak, and stepped out. I feared as I stepped over the lifeless guard that he would spring back to life and grab my foot, but of course he did not.
Sorrows of Adoration Page 24
