Green Lanterns of Gor vs. Gor-Jira, King of the Tharlarions!
Little did the Priest-Kings know that, when they shot down the Kurii ship over Thassa, near the Twelve Islands, that they were creating a menace the likes of which had never been fathomed on the planet Gor! The Kurii ship had contained a secret weapon that, on impact with the sea floor, began to leak out a toxic, radioactive substance that soon had a devastating effect on the surrounding sealife. Most of it died instantly upon contacting the poison oozing from the downed vessel. But it had a very different effect on one sea thalarion that swam too close to the doomed ship!
Once in contact with the toxic slime from the Kurii ship, the sea tharlarion began to grow and to mutate. It grew to an incredible size, taking on the appearance of a monstrous high thalarion, but with a row of ragged dorsal fins along its back. Its brain was affected as well, driving it into a murderous, destructive rage. It soon emerged from Thassa onto the shores of the Twelve Islands, where it began to rain death and destruction down on the Pani people who lived there. Reminded of an old myth their ancestors had brought with them from Earth, they dubbed the creature . . .
GOR-JIRA--KING OF THE THARLARIONS!
As the monster wrecked havoc on the Twelve Islands, the hero Tarl Cabot (had to get him in somewhere), who happened to be visiting at the time, managed to escape and sail back from World's End to the Gorean mainland, where he soon was able to report to the Priest-Kings about the new threat to Gor. Unfortunately, they'd missed the occurrence completely, having been busy shooting down other Kurii ships trespassing into Gorean space. (Pause for ominous foreshadowing . . .) Forewarned, the Priest Kings prepared to counter the new menace, but they found they were too late--the monstrous tharlarion had laid waste to the Twelve Islands and had disappeared beneath Thassa. (Sorry, Pani fans . . .)
It wasn't long, however, before Gor-jira made landfall on the island of Cos! But the Priest-Kings were ready for the creature (or so they thought)! Almost before the monster could tromp on a single villa, a massive column of blue flame rained down from the sky, completely enveloping the gigantic tharlarion! For a moment, the light was too intense for anyone to see anything. But surely even such a foreboding creature couldn't stand up to the blue flame of the rulers of Gor! But as the smoke from the smoldering ground dissipated and everyone's vision returned, there stood Gor-jira, seemingly unaffected by the blast! Except in one way . . . His dorsal fins began to glow with an eerie blue light before, suddenly, a beam of intense blue flame shot from his huge maw, burning everything in its path. Cos was soon no more.
At this point, the Priest-Kings knew that they had a problem that their normal means were not going to alleviate. And an even bigger one in that the creature was now headed directly toward Port Kar! Now, Port Kar had long been a haven for pirates and so might not have been considered such a loss were it to be stomped and burnt to the ground. But at least two of their agents called the city home, and it had long helped in keeping a balance of power on Thassa, though with Cos now incinerated, that wasn't quite the consideration it had been. Still, should Gor-jira not stop at Port Kar, any coastal city on the Gorean continent might also be at risk. So the Priest-Kings needed to stop the beast somehow before it destroyed all of Gor!
There was only one solution they could imagine. Nearly a century previously, an alien spacecraft of unknown origin had crashed on Gor. It's pilot, a pink-skinned humanoid, had perished in the crash. But the ship contained alien technology the likes of which the Priest-Kings had never seen before. It wasn't Kurii, it wasn't theirs--it was . . . something beyond. For that reason, they'd hidden it deep within the Sardar so that it never fell into the hands of the Kurii. It seemed as though now was the time to uncover it and see whether it might hold a solution to their current situation. Fortunately for the Priest-Kings--and all of Gor--it did.
Almost from the moment the rulers of Gor opened the treasure trove of alien technology, the air around them took on a soft green glow and three . . . objects floated up before their unblinking eyes. They were glowing green globs of pulsating light at first, but in their minds, the Priest-Kings heard a voice asking how they may serve them and in what form need they appear? The Priest-Kings, despite their ancient knowledge, were taken aback. When they failed to respond, they heard in their minds another question--"What is your will for us?" One of the great insectoids formed in its mind a picture of the mighty tharlarion threat they faced and what it had done so far--and what it feared the monster might yet do.
The globules of verdant light flashed several times, and the voice in the Priest-Kings heads seemed to say that it knew what to do to save their planet. The three balls of illumination slowly formed into more concrete shapes--two glowing green rings and a glowing green collar. Then the voice rang again in their heads, telling the Priest-Kings that the objects would seek out three champions for them--champions among the Goreans who would use their newfound power to stop the menace now facing Gor. And then they flew out of the Priest-Kings' hold, out from the Sardar, and off, one ring traveling toward the north, the other with the collar to the south, seeking out the champions to stand up against Gor-Jira!
The first ring--the one that went north--found its way to Torvaldsland, where it soon singled out a lone free woman, sitting on a bench playing a Northern Kalika and singing a skaldic song. She was startled at first, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she reached out a finger to touch the glowing green jewel, upon which it slid onto her finger and she heard a voice in her head: "Anja Steinnsdottir of Torvaldsland, you have been found to have great will and are judged worthy of becoming a Mistress of the Green Light!"
With that, her humble Torvaldsland FW's kirtle began to glow and take on a bright green hue, like that of the needles of the needle tree during the warmer months in the North, and a richness befitting even a high Jarlswoman. An image of what she was to face burnt itself into her mind, and though she gasped at the enormity of the task for which she had been chosen, the voice in her head assured her that she would have allies in the fight ahead and would prevail. With a nod and a look of determination, Anja rose into the sky and headed south.
The other ring and its accompanying collar continued on south, until they reached the vast Tahari desert. Streaking over the dunes like small green meteorites, they soon focused in on a pair of Goreans leading several kaiilas, packed high with trade goods. One was a rough, yet cultured appearing man--a Gorean merchant plying his trade from city to city, region to region, now returning home from a trade journey to the Tahari. The other was a lovely, curvaceous slave girl with dusky skin and raven hair, though she was now covered from head to food with the protective clothing required to traverse the dangerous sands of the Tahari. Night had fallen and the two were taking advantage of the lower temperatures to journey across the desert. But they saw the glowing green objects in the sky coming toward them and stopped, the merchant drawing his sword warily.
The ring and collar slowed and came to a stop, hovering before the pair. The man gingerly poked at the ring with his sword, and at once a voice filled his head: "Cougar Ireman, Merchant of Gor, you have been found to have great will and are judged worthy of becoming a Master of the Green Light!" As he listened and lowered his guard, the ring traced a path along his sword to his hand, nestling itself on his finger. The green collar, meanwhile, moved slowly before the fascinated slave girl, speaking to her mind: "Jazmin Azif, Kajira of the Tahari, you have been found to have a great submissive will and are judged worthy of becoming a Servant of the Green Light, where you will serve and aid your Master in what is to come." Jazmin stood quietly while the green collar opened before her and slide around her neck, locking in place. She felt a surge of energy as she vowed to serve her Master in every way.
Meanwhile, both were enveloped in a green glow, their clothes shifting and taking on that color, for Cougar, the garb of an emerald warrior, for Jazmin, a camisk of the brightest green. For a moment, Cougar grumbled, "Green? I'm no physician--I am a merchant, and proud of it!" As if in response, a symbol appeared on his chest--the balanced scales of a merchant. He harrumphed. "Well, better," as Jazmin giggled. Then their heads, too, were filled with what they had to face. For a moment Jazmin dropped to her knees. "But I am but a slave--I know only how to pleasure and obey, not how to engage in . . . in combat!" As Cougar pulled her to her feet, the green collar around her neck explained to her the duties she would perform in the coming battle--to stay near her Master's side and lend him the power of the collar to supplement that of his ring. Nodding, Jazmin accepted the task laid before her. As her Master took to the air, she followed, as always, staying close by his left side.
The rings and collar knew where to bring their new wearers, and three verdant comets converged in the air high over Port Kar. As the three--Master, Mistress, and slave--made themselves known to each other, the two rings and collar suddenly glowed brighter, and three tendrils formed from them, reaching out and coalescing into the head of a wizened, balding humanoid with a large forehead. The trio frowned for a moment, but the figure began to speak into their minds. "Congratulations--you three have been found worthy to bear the emerald rings of power . . ." He stopped for a moment, looking at Jazmin, his head tilted. "Now, that's a new one," he mumbled before continuing, seemingly unfazed. "The rulers of your world have called upon the power granted to those who bear these artifacts to save your planet from an unimaginable enemy. And the rings have responded. The three of you now are Green Lanterns of Gor, or, I suppose, you are the first of the Green Lantern Gor(ps) . . ."
Cougar, Anja, and Jazmin blinked in confusion as the talking head continued. "Never the mind. Those rings--er, and that collar--that you wear are powered by the will of the owner and can do practically anything that the wearer can think of. Think of it, and you will it into existence! With these rings, you can defeat any foe, no matter how powerful. But you must believe in them. Believe in yourselves. Believe in the goodness of your cause. Do so, and you shall prevail! Your world of Gor depends on you!" And with that, the head started to fade away . . .
"But wait!" Anja called out as the head began to disappear. "Who are you? And how can we contact you if we need your assistance?" The head smiled as it faded away. "I--and my fellows are known as the . . ." He stopped, as though someone had said something to him unheard by the three Goreans. "Are you sure?" he asked. Then he sighed and shook his head and continued. "You can call me--us--the Gor-dians of the Universe! And if you need us, well, you know, just ring us up!" And with that, he was gone!
The three looked at each other--GL Master, GL Mistress, and GL Slave--and shrugged. "I suppose that it's up to us from here on," Cougar declared. And just as he did, Thassa outside the wharves of Port Kar began to roil and bubble and surge upward, revealing the more than imposing form of . . . Gor-Jira, King of the Tharlarions! "Er, Master . . . ?" Jazmin said, timidly pulling at her Master's green threads. He turned to her and took her shoulders in hand. "Just stick close to me, my girl. We are Goreans! We shall endure!" Meanwhile, Anja's face had taken on a look of determination. "In Odin's name, with the might of Thor, I rebuke you, foul creature!" she cried out. And as if by magic, a bolt of green energy shot forth from her ring, forming a perfect--if overgrown--image of Mjolnir, the Hammer of Thor, God of Thunder, of Torvaldsland!
The green hammer flew forward, bashing into the head of the massive monster. For a moment it halted, shaking its head, almost as if dazed. Anja looked down at her ring, shaking her head. "Surely it can't be that easy," she speculated. And it wasn't. Mighty as the blow had been, Gor-jira shook it off. He looked not toward what was to him but three green glowing gnats in the sky, but down on the city of Port Kar, instinctively concluding that something from the city had harmed him. For a moment his dorsal fins began to radiate a pulsating blue light. Then he opened his jaws and a stream of blinding blue flame spread forth from them, igniting the wooden docks of the city and quickly spreading toward the city armory! "Oops--my bad," said Anja with a shrug. "Stop the fire, woman," growled Cougar. "My slave and I will take care of this abomination!"
Anja merely nodded, whispering "Men!" under her breath, and swooped toward the spreading flames, her ring forming a pair of giant buckets connected by a yoke, from the bottoms of which a quenching stream of green liquid poured, snuffing out the flames. Simultaneously, Cougar's ring spawned a huge green Gorean sword, swinging it at Gor-Jira and inflicting upon the beast a grievous wound. But before the Emerald Merchant could follow up his first blow, Gor-Jira spewed forth a river of blue flame toward him and his slave. Instinctively he willed his ring to form a huge shield before him, taking the form of a Merchant banner. The flame was stopped . . . but only for the moment. The pillar of deadly blue fire slowly began to push the shield backward toward Cougar and Jazmin, appearing that it would engulf and incinerate the two within Ihn!
Jazmin looked to her Master, seeing the beads of perspiration on his forehead as he used the power of his ring to try to hold back annihilation. Then she remembered what the collar had told her and she quieted her mind, visualizing the full force of a Tahari duststorm. A wall of greenish sand swept forth from her collar into Cougar's ring, and then from that ring, a mighty green whirlwind blew forth, turning back the blue flame and, finally snuffing it out completely! Gor-jira roared in rage: "Skkkkkkrrrrrooooonnnnnkkkk!" And then he charged the two, only to be knocked off his feet by a glowing green . . . frost giant, the product of Anja's ring. Cougar smiled. "I knew there was a reason I liked Torvaldslanders," he said to Jazmin, who giggled in return. "Are you ready, my slave?" The girl nodded and the two flew toward the monstrous tharlarion, now grappling in the waters of the harbor with the emerald frost giant.
Suddenly, from Cougar's ring, a huge set of emerald balances and scales were willed into existence, slamming down on the besieged creature, even as the green giant jollily pummeled the monster with his massive fists! it was too much, even for the King of the Tharlarions, and Gor-jira suddenly disappeared under the waves. The green frost giant stood in the harbor, giving the city a thumbs up as he dissipated with a final cry: "Ho, ho ho!" And it was over. Gor-Jira was defeated, and Port Kar was saved, as was all of Gor. At least for now. As Anja, Cougar, and Jazmin hovered in the air together, sending beams of green energy down toward the city, rebuilding the destroyed structures and healing the wounded, the three looked at each other, as if to say, "Now what?" All at once, the green head of the Gor-dian of the Universe reappeared in a burst of light from the rings and collar.
The head looked around, surveying all below them, his eyebrows raising. "Oh--you actually did it! Er, I mean--of course you did! You're the Green Lantern Gor(ps)! I didn't doubt you for an . . . what do you call in on your world? An Ihn!" The three looked at him, but before they could say anything, he nodded. "Oh, yes--you will keep your rings. Er, and that collar thing . . . In case your Priest-Kings have need of your service again in the future. Who knows what other threats might lie beneath the waves of your Thassa or maybe from out of space . . . those uncouth Kurii, for example. No, no--they are lucky to have you. Just, uh, don't disrupt any balances of power or anything. So time for me to go, and for all of you to head back to your respective lands. But first, of course, you need to recite your oath!"
"Oath?" all three questioned. The Gor-dian shook his green head as it began to dissolve before them. "Yes, your oath--your rings . . . and collar--will give it to you. Farewell!" And he was gone. Then the two rings and the collar began to glow green again, and the following words came to the minds of the three as they recited them out loud:
"In Brightest Tahari Day,
"In Darkest Torvaldsland Night--
"No GE shall escape our sight!
"Let Kurii, female warriors, and sleen take flight--
"Beware our power--Green Lanterns of Gor's Light!"
And with that, three Green Lanterns of Gor took leave of each other, Anja heading back north and Cougar and Jazmin south, until the next threat that Gor might face called them back together . . .
The End . . .?
Well, almost . . . remember those other Kurii ships that were shot down . . .?
In the cold north waters near Torvaldsland, the toxic radiation leaking from the dead Kurii ship found one of the cuttlefish abundant in Northern waters. And it began to grow . . . its head becoming bulbous, its tentacles sprouting from around its maw. Its body took on a humanoid form and vart-like wings sprouted from its back. It began to gurggle, "Ia! Ia! Ia!" It started to swim, looking for a place to rest, an instinctual voice in its head telling it where to go and what to do when it arrived: "Ar . . . Lay!"
In the reedy delta streams of the Vosk, another crashed Kurii ship sank into the muddy water, a toxic pool forming around it, killing fish all about. A screech was heard from above and an huge Ul dove into the water, scarfing up the contaminated fish. Finally it returned to its lair, where it, too, began to grow and evolve, soon to emerge as the flying creature known as . . . Gor-dan!
Another downed Kurii ship crash-landed in the marshes outside of Ar, it too leaking its deadly agent into the surrounding flora and fauna, which began to bend and warp out of shape, taking on an odd non-Gorean color. Curious, one of the spider people ventured too close and the tendrils of the affected vegetation began to wrap around its legs, puncturing it and injecting it with the toxin. Within a few hours, the normally innocuous creature had grown to the size of an arena and began to stalk the marshes, looking for prey as Gor-monga!
And . . . to cap things off . . . from the fourth planet of our solar system, intellects, vast, cool and unsympathetic looked upon the world of Gor with envy, slowly drawing their plans against us . . .
To be continued . . . maybe . . . ?
⊰════════════════════════════⊱
News travels Fast
Author and storyteller: Cooper Galena
The two magistrates, one very old and wise, the other very young and freshly from his schooling, were sitting together discussing how Magistrates managed their affairs. The younger posed a question, to which the elder answered.
"It is a curious thing, how news spread within a Gorean city. Perhaps it moves most swiftly on the feet and lips of kajira as they see to chores, duties, errands and simply moving from one part of the city to another. There is always time for shared knowledge, in alleys and corners where the Free never ventured, because the Free had no need to venture to those places. The amount of information passing at these waypoints in the city was voluminous. As to the accuracy of the information, that is another story."
"Now for official distribution, sometimes birds are used to send a note across a large city, or to another city. But for a short distance, birds were both costly to train and feed, and had a tendency to get taken, by nature or man."
"It is possible to carry your message yourself, or hand it to a house scribe, to be delivered, but this introduces the danger of the information being intercepted and misused. Some scribes are more reliable than others, as were almost all Free, or at least it was hoped they were. More than one city had fallen to information going astray, and being used to corrupt or damage a man, a house, or an entire city."
"So, how to move information both quickly and safely? This is a question faced by all the Castes, Magistrates, all the way up to City Administrator. Scrolls sealed and secured, guards, secret routes, all were capable of being undermined.
In the end, one solution had presented itself to many of the Free."
"Kajira. Specifically kajira identified as knowing the paths and byways of the city, swift of foot, careful and cautious, and above all imbued with a clear knowledge that their lives were forfeit should the information fail to be delivered. There were more than one of these kajira who had in an unspoken way, agreed to take their message to their death, so that the message would not be intercepted."
"The general workings of this type of transport was that a Free person would either possess, or pay for the services of, one of these slaves. The slave would be given a destination, but no knowledge of what they carried. Slaves were mostly illiterate, which reduced the risk of them reading the message, along with the security measures taken to seal and protect the message. She would be garbed in alternate clothing, often drab and nondescript, the idea of having her literally blend into the colors of the city. Slaves had no access to the very precise Gorean chronometers, but these slaves knew themselves and the city. They could accurately judge how long it would take to go to their destination from their starting point."
"Now, in most cases, the slave would return by a different path but return to her starting point with a note from the recipient stating that the document had been received. This confirmation of receipt was based on a coded message shared prior to the primary message being sent between the sender and recipient of the message. If the message was delivered and received as planned, the slave was fed and then released back into general service."
"When it became complicated, was when the first recipient needed to forward the original message, and the recipient’s reply, to another party. Essentially, a chain of recipients might exist, and the slave would need to carefully move from one recipient to the next. This was the most dangerous task for one of these slaves. The chance of being waylaid and the chain being broken was significantly higher. This type of task was reserved for a very few slaves. Depending on the importance of the message, and the complexity of the message chain, the arrangement would often have several kajira stationed along the chain, to run to the originator and confirm that the message was moving along the chain."
"So, the idea was to find slaves that were reliable, swift, cunning and knowledgeable of the city, to work hard at planning, and then training. It was often the case that a skilled slave would be used sparingly, and only used a few times, so that no pattern or association could be attributed to any one slave. Often, when they were retired from such message carrying they were sold to another city, or in some rare cases, simply killed to reduce risk."
The older Magistrate finished his thought, and then turned to the younger one, and smiled, deciding to let the younger man sleep.
The End
⊰════════════════════════════⊱
A Sack of Misery
Author and storyteller: Cooper Galena
Screaming didn't help, not in the least. Pleading and begging seemed equally futile. The guards ignored her, the slaves simply taunted her, leaving food and water just out of reach, and in some cases worse transgressions. She had been there two hands, captured, stripped and chained into a small cage, barely tall enough to stand in.
She'd demanded proper treatment, worthy of a High Caste Free Woman. This gained her nothing but silence and some mild abuse at the hands of her captors. At first she refused to eat, and then pleaded for food when she could stand her hunger no longer. The bowl she was given was filled with a tepid liquid of indeterminate origin, composed of questionable ingredients, save a severed vulo foot. She wretched, and pleaded for real food, only to have the bowl taken away. That had been two days ago.
Curled up in a ball, hugging her knees to her chest, she did not hear the man at the bars approach. "Slave" he said, not yelling but not whispering. She looked up at a man, of average height and build, wearing a whip, and a slave goad. "Stand up, now" he said, the tone of his words conveying what must be an attitude of being properly obeyed. She rolled over on to her other side, facing away from the man.
The cascade of water was so cold, she felt the breath knocked out of her. She was soaked, covered in freezing water, on the stone floor of her prison cell. She gasped in lungs full of air, and stood. Whirling to face this indignation, she raised her hand as if to strike, her voice on the verge of tearing the very atmosphere between them. The next bucket of freezing water caught her in the chest, knocking her off her feet, and back onto the wet stone floor.
"Stand and be quiet, kajira" he said, and stood at the bars of the cell door. She could see he had another bucket of cold water, poised to carry on this frigid assault. She stood, and did not make a sound. He nodded and motioned her to the cell gate. "Better" She was quiet because she was furious! Never had she been treated this way, never would her Father have permitted even the tiniest bit of this transgression to transpire without someone, perhaps more than one, dying on an impaling spear.
The man took a set of unique looking keys from his belt, and unlocked her cage. She bolted, as quick as her wet feet could gain purchase on the slippery stones. She breathed freedom, up until the moment the slave goad dropper her like a bag of bosk dung. She shivered, gasped and then shrieked in pain and frustration, only to be doused in cold water a third time.
"If you move too quickly, I will put the tip of the goad in the pool of water gathered about you, and the pain you have experienced up to this point, will pale to a fond memory. I suggest, politely if that helps, that you quickly find your knees, and present yourself as a kajira should". His voice was even, terrifyingly so, as He spoke of her very immediate future, and her single choice. She rolled slowly to her knees, and placed her hands on the top of her thighs, palms down. She kept her knees close together, and her head was slightly elevated.
"You have seen the proper position for a slave, when in the presence of a Free Man, more then once I would believe. Assume it, or we shall begin again, from the beginning." Rage shook her like a leaf in the wind. She slowly parted her thighs, and lowered her head. 'Bracelets" he said, and she grudgingly moved her hands behind her back. From out of the shadows, a pair of slave bracelets quickly clamped down over her wrists, and her eyes darted first behind her, and then up at his face. He was looking behind her, and she heard him say to the shadows "She is all mine now, continue with your efforts" to which a voice responded simply "Aye Master".
The snap of a leash clip on the thin metal collar at her neck, focused her attention immediately. She drew back in fear, and anger, but the crackle of the slave goad got her attention. "Stand" he said, and she slowly struggled to her feet. "That is the last time you will be slow, and it will be the last time you bolt from the leash. Learn to love your leash.." and with that, the man began to walk. She had been busy concocting a vile and vitriolic curse to hurl at the man, when her leash drew taut. She stumbled, earning her a violent look from the man, as she fought to regain her footing while attempting to keep up. "I will kill this man" she thought to herself as she walked sullenly to where she did not know .
She tried to ignore all the stares, all the hisses and whispered threats, from slaves who either recognized her as a former Free Woman, or sensed that she had been at one time, and quite recently. In due time they arrived, the man halting at a door, and slowly untying a lock knot, then opening the door and tugging her inside. A round room, clean, bright, simple, warm! She kept her eyes down as much as possible, and when commanded to, knelt as a slave before a Free Man, a Master. Her bodied obeyed, but her mind was still that of a keen-edged Free Woman about to escape.
"Stand" he said, so she stood. He removed the bracelets on her wrists, and then unclipped the leash from her throat, and when his back was turned, she took a quick look at the door. It appeared unlocked, and so she bolted. Throwing open the door, she ran straight into the largest Warrior she had ever seen. She caromed off his chest, and fell back into the room on her backside. Warm floor or not, these stones still hurt. She howled and curled herself into a tight ball.
The guard was apparently waved off, as he stepped back and closed the door. She heard the other man, the one in the room with her, moving about, rummaging in chests and boxes. Finally his activities ceased, and she heard his command "Come" and she shook her head. The crackle of the slave goad dug deep into her consciousness, and she slowly turned to see him standing, goad in one had, whip in the other. She crawled to his feet, and assumed the proper position.
"Stand" he said, so she stood. He clipped the goad to his belt, and the whip returned to its easy access at his hip. "Arms above your head" he said, and she raised her arms. She watched him pick up a rough pile of cloth, and walk towards her. He lifted the cloth up and over her outstretched hands, and lowered the cloth downwards. In short order, she realized that this was a clean dung sack, perhaps never used, or perhaps simply washed of the filth it normally carried. She began to protest, but a sharp cuff to the side of her head ceased that. She was going to have this man torn to pieces by sleen, she thought to herself, a blind anger boiling over her thoughts.
The sack had holes cut and seamed, for her head and arms, like a low-caste woman's work blouse. It reached to her ankles, and she was angered and embarrassed to be wearing such a foul thing. Her thoughts were interrupted by him grabbing one wrist, clamping a shackle over it, and clipping it to a chain hanging from the ceiling of the room. She was so annoyed with this that she failed to notice him doing the same thing to the other hand, until it was too late to fight back. She was trussed up in a room, naked in a dung sack!
He tied the bottom of the sack tight, using a bit of rope, around her ankles. She felt his hand in her hair, as he pulled it into a single tight bundle at the back of her head, and slipped a bit of knotted tharlarion leather around it to hold it in place. "Complain too much...slave, and I shall start your training by cutting off your hair, right about here!" and tugged on the single tail of hair.
Stepping back, the man watched as the former Free Woman struggled inside the sack. He smiled, and then said "I have it on good authority, from the Warriors that captured you, and sold you, that you were the loveliest of the Free Woman taken. According to one of the captured Red Caste of your City, you were the daughter of the Head Merchant." He removed a jeweled dagger from his belt, and began examining it as he spoke at her.
Glaring at the man, the slave said nothing. He continued "It was said amongst your captors, you fought well, and with spirit. Good, a slave with such a spirit is often quite pleasing in the furs." He grinned at her, and was answered with a scream. He laughed, and smiled as she gasped for breath, clutching lung full of air, her fury unabated. "You are a foul thing, not worth even a name!" she howled at him.
His laughter rolled around the room, and as he laughed he drew close to the slave. She struggled inside the sack, and as she did, she began to feel the rough material rubbing against her cold, wet skin. She stopped struggling, and watched the man as he approached. He reached out, and grasped the sack, taking one bare breast in hand, through the rough cloth. She burst into a fury of movement, no man had ever touched her before, and this one was certainly not going to be the first!
She felt his fingers tighten about her, even though she fought. She watched him move his other hand, fingers extended, towards her neck. "Silence, slave..you shall learn your place. You are no longer a Free Woman, you are a slave, la kajira!" The jeweled knife slipped into the opening of the sack at her neck, and slowly cut downwards, slicing down between her breasts, exposing them to Him
The cold silence in the room as she was exposed, was suddenly broken. Alarm bells, first one, then more, began to peel loudly across the City. The sound of running, metal against metal, spear and sword being drawn, filled the small room. The man turned and looked at the door, then her, then back to the door. "Fear not, slave, you have little to no value now, all trussed up as you are. I shall return!" The man left, and she stayed, not because she wished to, but the shackles stayed her escape. Her first thought was to scream loudly, hoping that she would be rescued from this nightmare. However, she had no idea whom was raiding, and she was just as likely to be left to die of starvation or neglect, as she was to be taken again, exacerbating her enslavement.
The man did not return. She hoped he was dead, having died with the entrails spilled on the stones somewhere, taking a long time to die. Several ahn passed, her body weakening, shoulders screaming in pain. The sun was near to setting, and still no sounds from outside that door.
She slipped in and out of consciousness, dehydration and hunger struggling to kill her. The door opening drew her back to consciousness, and she looked up and stared. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, and then looked again.
"Datun, is that you?" A large man moved to her, and looked at her closely "Lady Kaitlin, I found you!" He released her from the shackles, and wrapped her in a Warrior's blanket from His kit. "We must move swiftly, our efforts were enough to clear the section of the City we felt you might be held in, but we do not control much, or for long. Can you travel?" She smiled, pointed to a bag telling him to bring that, then collapsed. He lifted her over His shoulder, and moved urgently through the small building she was being held in. Three war tarns were close, and a fourth tarn equipped with passenger basket. Datun placed Lady Kaitlin in the basket, then mounted his tarn, and signaled the other Tarnsmen to leave, swiftly, urgently, back to their City.
Days later, in the company of her Father, and a man from the Ubar's court, the Lady Kaitlin, rested and recovered, spoke to them. "I was unsullied, but barely" she said, shivering at the memory of her captor's foul hands. The man from the Ubar's court looked her over closely then said "What can you tell us of the City, Lady? Do they prepare for war, are they preparing to bring war upon us?" She replied softly, her voice barely moving her veils "I was a prisoner, Sir. I can tell you nothing but of pain and shame." The man nodded, the wished her a speedy recovering, and left with a nod to her Father. A few enh passed, and her Father sat with her for a bit, then said "Were you successful?" She shrugged and said "I do not know, I was so close to slavery and death. The plan worked mostly, but my life nearly ended so many times..." Her voice trailed off, then she said "As you surmised, Gattix found me, took me, the daughter of his greatest enemy, and was intent on having me. Datun arrived as planned, with moments to spare. The bag, from Gattix's quarters, what was in it?"
The Lady Kaitlin's father took his time answering "I placed your life at great risk, but it was worthwhile. I have learned of Gattix's treachery, at the cost of your honor perhaps. A price I was reluctant to pay, save your desire to avenge your Mother. She is avenged, daughter. Now rest" Her father departed, and she was left to herself and her thoughts.
"So, my honor is in question, I have been a slave" she thought, then looked out the window "And now, I am a spy"
The end...
