by Jack Bessie
“That is a proper name, among the tribes...it means one who walks in conquered lands,” Amein suggested, further befuddling her captive. Her searching glance at Rasten was brief, and hinted at her surprise. “Sit!” Amein now commanded, and the warrior moved over and plopped down on the sleeping platform, her expression amusing to Rasten. Watching her struggle, he noted her slowly shift from pliant to being well determined to resist their persuasion.
“I have nothing I wish to tell you. Do your worst, I will die before I co-operate with you!” she insisted, now sitting with her arms crossed.
“She is afraid of being naked and raped, of being made to surrender, and of aiding us,” Rasten spoke to Amein, who glanced at him and nodded, her tiny smile showing pleasure at his display of an odd talent.
“You expect us to beat and torture you? To rape you, to make you do our bidding?”
“We would do such to you...I expect no less, and no mercy. I would die rather than beg!” Koharila declared. “Or you will use some sorcery against me!” The woman no doubt thought Amein mad, when she laughed at this statement.
“Ah, dear girl, I have something else in mind, which will break your resolve. I shall overwhelm you with pleasure, not pain!” This gave Koharilla pause; what sort of pleasure might the Elvin bring to bear? Eridian life held few things that might be considered as such. She started to speak, but Amien held up her hand.
“You will discover soon enough!” she said, smiling at Koharila’s terrified expression.
“Come!” Amein commanded Rasten, and they were soon on the other side of the elanite. She spoke to the guards, outlining what she wished to have done to the woman. The guards may have thought this odd, but nodded.
“At once, Princess,” they agreed.
Rasten had seemed doubtful also, but when reminded of his first days with Amein, he soon reconsidered.
“The Eridians are poorly versed in the arts of love, viewing sex as merely a means to create children. This poor woman has likely never experienced a single orgasm in her life! That will change most wickedly, very soon!” Amein suggested.
When they returned the next morning, they found her naked and asleep, sprawled on the soft bedding. A brief chat with the guards informed them that Koharilla had been awake most of the night, being had and superbly pleasured by a dozen males, both human and Elvin, who took turns applying their skills to her over stimulated body.
They entered the cell, and Amein sat down on the sleeping platform, where she could touch the woman, and gently shake her awake. This took time, but when she finally managed to open her eyes, and discovered her bare splendor, she became utterly embarrassed. She reached frantically for a cover, but Amein grabbed her wrist. “You will sit up, and speak with us!” Amein proclaimed, simple and direct. Koharilla’s expression became hard, but Amein was not inclined to indulge a fit. “Do I need to have the males return?” she asked sharply.
“No! Please! I can’t bear to suffer such...such...” she fell silent, face burning hot and her eyes wet with tears.
“I am willing to inflict days of that upon you, such that you would be helplessly enthralled to it, should you not be honest with me! Then, I would only need to deny you such a thing, to make you beg!” The Eridian considered this, the suspicion that Amein was being honest, too terrible to ignore.
“Please...don’t make me betray my people!” she helplessly begged. Amein brushed the woman’s hair back, and wiped her eyes. “Let me die an honorable death!”
“You have not earned such! We have no desire for you to betray your kind, but wish only for you to help us understand them! We are tired of this senseless war, and are mystified as to what your leaders hope to gain from it!” This seemed to inflame the young woman.
“Is that not obvious?! Your people have great wealth and power, much rich land. Our people endure in your shadow, scraping by on poor soils and eking out a living as best we can! All we have to be proud of is our courage and our valor. Even our victories are few and small!” she moaned, naming this burning her heart and soul.
“So you envy us our civilization and accomplishments? What else disturbs you about us?” Amein wondered. Koharila shrugged, reluctant to name such a thing, which seemed now to be quite petty. Amein prodded her side with a firm finger. “Be honest!”
“It seems most unfair that all of your people are so beautiful!” the young one insisted, and looked down, somehow ashamed to feel as she did.
“Is that a common feeling or just your own?”
“Many, especially of the women, feel the same!”
“Rasten? Is she not attractive?” Amein asked, speaking in Elvin.
“On Earth, she would be considered very pretty and desirable...why?”
“Tell you later...” she whispered, and then repeated Rasten’s comment to the surprised human. “You look for reasons to justify hating us, don’t you?”
“Maybe we do. But we have long memories, of all we’ve suffered!” Koharila insisted.
Amein sat, unmoving. Only her eyes shifted, to captivate the Eridian’s gaze. “Your people killed my father, are you aware of that?”
“I...have heard such tales. Many consider it our greatest accomplishment. You hate us for that, don’t you?” she asked, with bated breath. The realization that she was only inches from Amein was daunting.
“No, it fills me with sadness and anger, that he died at the hands of a people whom he wanted only to befriend! He wished to have your kind be comrades and friends, to be able to live side by side, so you might also prosper. This too is my wish. Only with peace will your people have plenty and grow...”
“I have little understanding of such weighty matters! I wished to be a warrior since I was a small child, even though such is discouraged by our people. It took much will and effort to be as I am. I only hoped to serve my people well, or to die an honorable death!” Koharila moaned.
“And now you think you are doomed to a meaningless end? You will not return to your people,” Amein suggested.
“Because...why? If you don’t simply kill me, or keep me enslaved, I would surely not rest until I am home!”
“Koharilla! How many of those captured by us have ever returned?”
“Almost none do! That’s why...I am sure I am doomed also!” Amein smiled at this.
“You would be shocked to learn that most are among us, living as humans, free and unfettered?” Koharilla’s open mouth answered well.
“How can this be?!” she managed to gasp. “Were they all cowards?” she asked, unable to imagine any other reason this could be true.
“Do you consider yourself such?”
“Of course not!”
“But you will stay with us also,” Amein insisted, smiling at the female warrior’s outrage. “Do you remember what you felt last night, as the males pleasured you?”
The Eridian turned a deep shade of red, before hanging her head. “I was much shamed by my lust. No woman should be subjected to such terrible temptation!” she sighed. Amein pulled the woman’s chin up, forcing her to look in her eyes.
“I will send others tonight, to have you again...you want that, do you not? Your people know little of such pleasures, but we are masters of such delights. If you are had each day for a week, you will not be able to turn away from it. That is why your people are all still with us!” Amein declared.
“I will be a prisoner to my desires!” the once proud warrior sobbed, seeing the inevitability of the Elvin’s intent.
“Do not be ashamed, dear girl! I command all the Elvin, but I am just as much a slave to my own desires as you will be to yours! There is a better life for you here, free of death and destruction!”
“But I know little else!” Koharila sighed.
“Give us a chance to teach you, and you will!” Amein proclaimed, delighted by the confused look on the Eridian woman’s face.
15
Shocara had found herself moody and much disturbed by the capture of her warriors, especially Koharill
a, whom she had been fond of, and in some ways wished had been a sister. That she was superbly skilled with a sword, being able to best many of the men had made her an exceptionally strong and admirable companion. That the young swordswoman had worshiped Shocara, wanting more than anything to be like her leader, now seemed painfully bitter. The feeling that she was responsible for the loss of her weighed heavily on Shocara, somehow seeming worse than normal.
I cared perhaps more deeply for her than most...is that foolish? she wondered. I choose to ignore the others, so I am not tormented by their loss! she considered, this understanding seeming to mock her. How am I supposed to lead, if I were to cry over each one lost, like they were my child? I wonder if the Elvin one feels this way? They say she commands vast numbers of warriors...does she care when any one of them are lost? I want to blame the Elvin, but should I? We came to wage war, and they defended themselves. We would do the same, against them! It is as it is. Maybe my only fault is in how much I cared for Koharilla. I pray she is accorded a swift and painless death, and is not tormented well first!
Shocara had been quiet during the evening meal, as her men laughed and were boisterous. They were well pleased by their raid on Alarinad, and seemed well satisfied that so few had perished. Shocara ate quickly and then wordlessly got up and left their meeting house, restless and angry. She wandered the village as the sun set, her inner distress only getting worse.
She had passed Garen, barely seeing him, and while standing at the farthest extent of the village, watching the moon rise, she was startled to have him silently appear, three paces to her left, well out of sword range, should she be startled, and inclined to lash out.
“The Princess is disturbed...perhaps she needs a friendly ear to hear her plight?” he suggested. Shocara chuckled, delighted.
“Dear Garen...you understand me more than I do myself sometimes! Come, let us walk a bit, far from snoopy ears!” she declared, taking his arm.
They walked silently along the road which went east before Garen spoke again.
“You are less pleased by the raid on Alarinad than you’d hoped?” he suggested.
“Nay....the raid was itself well done and did much of what we’d hoped. I am...I have been touched by the loss of our warriors, in a way unknown to me before!”
“Koharilla...you mourn her loss, do you not?!”
“Apparently I do! I had not thought myself so vulnerable to such a thing!”
“Perhaps you simply didn’t wish to note that...you have been much fond of her many years. You saw yourself in her skill and determination. Losing her is like losing part of yourself. Also, this makes you wonder what your fate might be like, should the Elvin manage to capture you?”
Garen’s insight rendered Shocara speechless, it being precise and exact and much like her own fears. She finally realized that she was holding her breath, and let it go as a long sigh. “Dear Garen, you understand me so much more than the others! What would I do without your care and wise words?”
“Princess...I...I’ve loved you since you were a tiny girl, eager to climb on my lap, and hear tales of our efforts. There is no one whom I might wish more to serve, to help and support. Should you fall in battle, I...I...could not bear such a thing,” he managed to declare, his voice a ragged whisper.
“Do not fear for me, dear Garen! I will endure, or die with honor. None might hope for more than that!” she sighed, leaning close, and kissing his cheek. Garen had once been a proud warrior, but had been grievously wounded, and had barely survived. He had somehow not died, and had partly healed, but not well enough to handle the creatures or weapons of war. He had gravitated to caring for Shocara when she was a young girl, after her mother had died of a fever, there being no other so inclined to tend her, or encourage her in mastering weapons. Karturic had been too obsessed with war and his sorcery to care for a mere girl.
In spite of her father’s neglect, Shocara had grown and thrived, Garen giving her the love none other might accord her, as well as the guidance and advice she needed to master the sword. He had been willing to encourage her when others thought it a waste of time. With Garen’s support, others had been willing to teach her, and she had emerged as the undisputed master of the steel blade. With her father’s fall and crippling injuries, there was none so foolish as to dispute her, her brothers all having perished in battles against the Elvin.
“I wonder at times...why is life like it is? Are we doomed to live as we have always done, or might there be another way...maybe even a better way? Our people seem to work and struggle so hard, the earth reluctant to support us, the weather even unfriendly too often. Why can we not have a better life? Why has it been ordained that we live in the Elvin’s shadow? Do the gods hate us that badly? I sound foolish, don’t I?” she suddenly laughed.
“Princess...you ask good questions, that few might be inclined to consider. You know that this was once Elvin land we are walking on?”
“I know they built the watchtower to the East...I suppose that they were once here...but where were we? There are many generations buried here, of our people, and no other trace of the Elvin! How long ago did they pass away from here, if they once ruled here?”
“I have no idea! Even the story tellers have no words of such! What did the Elvin city look like?” Garen suddenly thought to ask. Shocara was silent, remembering what she had witnessed.
“It was large enough to fill this whole valley and then some! I never imagined such a wonder might exist! Dear Garen...all of our people from all the tribes would fit into such a place, with room to spare! It was....beautiful beyond words to tell! I would die without hesitation, if my passing would give such a thing to our people! And...their sorcery is beyond any we might have...the city glows in the dark, thousands of lights illuminating it!” She glanced at him in the fading light. “I want so much to see it again...just not as a prisoner!” she laughed.
Shocara had her mood much improved by speaking with Garen and returned to the village eager to set new plans in motion. She went in search of Haserinic, who was her favorite messanger, and found him at his cabin with his family. He stepped out to sit and talk, so he might hear, the small dwelling filled with noisy children.
“What might my Princess want?” he wondered, curious.
“I need you to fly to Arkush tomorrow, and summon Elaradan, the trader. I have need of him to journey to the Elvin lands!” she replied.
“To spy, or other things?” Haserinic asked, knowing the trader’s reputation for assisting them, if the price was good enough.
“I need him to carry only words into the Elvin lands for the ears of our friends. Tell him I will make his efforts worthy, as always. And impress him that I’m not eager to wait long either!” she insisted.
“I will try, but you know how he is!” the Eridian laughed. The trader tended to move at his own pace, no matter who might wish to prod him to move faster.
It was four days later that Elaradan arrived in his wagon, a giggling young girl ridding beside him. Shocara watched him lift her down, judging her to be probably no older than fourteen summers.
“So you’ve stooped to robbing the cradle?” she asked slyly, the way the girl was acting indicating she was more likely a lover than a daughter.
“Her father owed me money. I took her in payment! She has well proven worth the bother!” the man declared smugly. “You wish me to undertake something, I hear? I am always eager to help my friends!” Elaradan suggested.
“For a modest fee?!” Shocara replied, her voice a bit strident.
“Of course...I am only a poor businessman, who must labor hard to make an honest wage!” he declared. There was silence a second, before both he and Shocara burst into laughter, the irony of his statement plain.
“Come!” Shocara insisted, and led them to her cabin. Garen sat on the steps, with the young girl, to make sure none snooped.
Inside, seated on the furs, Shocara wasted no time.
“I need you to undertake a journey to the El
vin lands...and enter the city of Alarinad. I would have you convey information and instructions to one therein,” she instructed.
“Princess! Such would be dangerous! Why might you wish me to do this, and not another?”
“Because, you have passed within before...at least you claim you have. There are few of your brothers who might pass to and fro with immunity, are there not?” she demanded.
“I have well cultivated the Elvin, to be regarded as trustworthy. I would not wish to lose that trust, as it would make my life hard, assuming I still had a life, after the Elvin finished displaying their ire on my body! They frown harshly on dishonesty!” he sighed, having heard tales of such, but having no actual knowledge of this.
“I’m not asking you to enter the place and steal something of great value!” Shocara laughed. “You should have little reason to fear carrying mere words!”
“Assuming I am not questioned. The Elvin can detect even a small lie, in another’s voice!” Alaradan proclaimed. Shocara sat, mouth open, this being unknown to her.
“Is there no power the accursed Elvin lack?!” she complained.
“Few. They are what they are. Now perhaps you understand why I demand the payment I do? My first mistake will likely be my final one!” the trader sighed.
“I have no problem with such...just don’t ever betray us! All your money would not save you from our wrath!” she suggested.
The trader chuckled. “I would rather let the Elvin have me than face my end at your hands, Dear Princess! Now what message must I convey? Who am I to seek out?”
“There is a merchant there, who offered to help us against the Elvin. He despises them well!”
“Why might that be?” Alaradan wondered.
“His wife was Eridian, and his oldest son was raised with our people, and became a warrior. He died fighting the Elvin. The father was much grieved, even more when his wife fell ill and died also. He vowed to help our people fight against the Elvin, cut his hair and beard and moved to their city, to spy and do what he could for us. We hear he has prospered, within the Elvin place, but his bitterness is still great. He knows a secret that no Elvin possess, and will use that to bend certain ones to our will, to gain useful information about the Elvin, which he can pass to you, and you to us!”
