Vara the Unchained By Tachallon/dgressel@mailexcite.com Vara reclaims a kingdom and profits many beautiful slaves. Hand over hand, fingertips and toes forged to rock, breasts crushed to the wall, cheek pressed against cold stone. My ears strained for the click of the armed Segelot's brass shod boots. The ominous thump of the time drum masked all other sound. Smoke from cook fires wafted over the wall. My stomach growled. I ignored the complaint. There would be time for filling my belly when the sun rose -- if I still lived. I fought better on an empty stomach. I felt naked clinging to the crevices. My cache of weapons normally clung to my skin like steely appendages. Now, they were beyond reach, slung of the pommel of my demon mount Delios. Should the need arise I would call upon him. Delios would come like the devil himself. He'd killed more than once on my behalf. Climbing a castle wall with an arsenal strapped to one's body was risky. A tiny clank of steel against stone and my chained, whip-chafed body would warm Omphale's bed. No. I intended to gather weapons along the journey. I wasn't completely unarmed. My body itself made a formidable weapon. Besides, my blue silk strangling cord clung like a snake to the flesh of my upper thigh. A coil of strong rope looped at my waist. A braid of rope and a strangling cord might come in handy in a variety of ways. I clung to the outer wall of the palace of Qir't'los. The penetrating feminine voices of two of Omphale's bloodsworn Segelots split the night. I paused, making myself one with the wall. The footsteps of the near Segelot passed. I resumed my climb. Seventeen hammer tones of the drum would pass before she returned. My long dark cloak and cowl concealed my nakedness and more importantly my long golden hair and pale skin. Fair features had a tendency to shine like tallow glow. A bad thing for one of my profession. My heart kept tempo with time drum. I worked on a tight schedule. Five firt after the Segelot passed again, a mounted patrol of four would gallop from gates of the castle and circle the perimeter walls. If the patrol caught me hanging from the rock, they'd take their time knocking me off. Take longer to finish me. Omphale's Segelots were not known for their gentility. On the positive side, Omphale's followers had fallen into a predictable routine. Predictability was bad when it came to sentries. Omphale knew better. I guess her self- proclaimed title of Queen had gone to her pretty head. Omphale's Segelots while tough and fearless in battle had grown lax on garrison duty. Too bad. Omphale had only been in residence at the palace a mere quartel moon. It wasn't that I had anything against Omphale. She and I went back a long way. Back to the days when we'd both served as pleasure slaves in the court of the Sultan of Ka'ta'te. We'd gritted our teeth together and endured beneath the sweating body of the Sultan. We'd fought wrist to wrist, long daggers flashing with sisters long gone in the Sultan's great ring of death, consumed by holy bloodlust as the people screamed for our deaths. Omphale and I had been survivors. No. I didn't have anything against a former slave who would be Queen. It was more to the fact that Queen Saf'ta, the former occupant of the palace had offered to pay a rotrig fortune along with a rather exotic bonus to remove the usurping former slave from the ruby studded throne of Qir't'los. In my world the usurper was soon usurped. I didn't make the rules, I simply profited by them. I clung near the top of the wall and cocked an ear. Gingerly, I rested my hand atop the wall and felt the shards of imbedded glass designed to prevent a penetration of the castle such as I proposed. This was going to take a bit longer than I'd planned. I waited, listening for the footsteps of the Segelot passing. Her shod boots clicked against the stone of the rampart. She walked a mere quill from where I clung. Sweat dripped from my body. The muscles of my biceps, forarms and calves burned like Aterock's fire. The Segelot stepped away. I worked the rope loose from my waist, laying its coils across the top, cushioning the razor sharp glass. Rising, thighs straining, I positioned my hands upon it. Female voices froze me as I was about to vault. I dropped to my former position, pulling the rope after me. The women drifted near. I gritted my teeth and held on. The chains controlling the huge gates began to rattle, signaling their opening. I didn't have much time. "I grow tired of hearing our sister Omphale's Queenly pronouncements," a voice said. The accent was Tatar. This Segelot was a long way from home. An answering Indo voice said, "Yes, Chung Ka. We stand guard while she wears jewels and beds her prized slaves." "She made us take the oath of chastity before the glowing face of the moon, but she took no such oath it seems," the Tatar named Chung said. "Perhaps it is time we, too, enjoyed the bodies of the slaves we fought so hard to capture," the Indo replied. "Perhaps it would be safer to enjoy the body of an equal, Mara. Slaves talk too much." I heard a sharp intake of breath. My sweating fingers began to slip from the stone. "Ah, that feels good, Mara" Chung replied. "You have a pleasant touch." "Join me in quarters later," Mara said. "It will be even better. Chastity becomes neither of us." "It is death if Omphale finds out." "Perhaps it will be Omphale's death, not ours," Mara said. "I have heard others speak with dissatisfaction." "Perhaps we should speak with these others." "Yes, perhaps we should." Horses' hooves beat gainst soft ground. My right hand slipped from the rock. Every muscle tensed. My heart jumped. I regained my hold. "I will come anon," Chung said. "I will be waiting," Mara replied. The hoofs beat closer now. Boots clicked upon stone as the two stepped away. I tossed the rope atop the wall, placed my hands and vaulted landing upon the rampart. The pain and tension in my muscles melted away. I turned. The guard passed below. I breathed. Pausing for several nonce, I heard only the sounds of the night and the drum. Footsteps -- then nothing. Alone? Perhaps not. When I assured myself that my position was occupied only by me, I stepped to retrieve the rope, looking right and left. I heard a swishing sound, began to turn and felt the rough length of a killing stick pass before my throat. I choked. My hands reached for the stick. My body stiffened. Someone had been lurking in the shadows. If it were Chung Ka, my only hope lay in the hope she had not seen me come over the wall, nor had she seen the coiled rope. She had walked away with Mara. She could not have seen my vault. I forced myself to become still. When I did not struggle, my assailant paused. She pulled the cowl from my head. My golden hair fell in ringlets all about us. The pressure on my throat decreased. "Who are you?" Chung asked. "A slave. Do not kill me. Mara ordered me to offer my body to you." Soft laughter followed. Chung's hand moved around my side. I inhaled. She felt the hardened muscle there but no weapon. She made no comment. Chung squeezed my right breast, feeling the slave rings embedded into my flesh. "Ah, I see," Chung said. "Mara has sent me a pleasure slave. She wishes to put me in the mood." The stick moved away from my throat. It touched my buttocks. "Turn," Chung ordered. I did so, keeping my body between her and the rope. Chung was a tall woman and very muscular in the Tatar tradition. She was bare from the waist up. Around her curvy hips she wore a loincloth constructed from tanned human scalps, the various hair colors plaited into small pigtails. She wore heavy brown boots, leather, reaching up just below her knees and fastening on the sides with massive brass buckles. Chung had fitted the toe of each boot with four-inch serrated killing blades. Very deadly, especially if one were a devotee of Kan wa. Chung wore a tattoo of a dragon in red, blue, green and gold covering one large shapely breast and part of her muscular abdomen. She had dark almond eyes, long torso, wide hips and short muscular legs. A gold ring passed through one earlobe, another through the side of her nose. Between these, she wore a gleaming golden chain. She carried two killing sticks. One waited in her hand, the other rested in a scabbard at her waist. She was bald except for top knot and long pony tail. She, too, wore the gold rings of a pleasure slave through her nipples. Between these rings passed a gold chain, similar to the one that rested across her cheek. Matching rings would peirce both sides of her labia. I wore those rings as well. It was how slaves were marked. "Remove the cloak," Chung ordered. "If the rest of you is as exquisite, Mara has indeed chosen well." I dropped my eyes in slavelike posture and peeled the cloak from my body. I turned and tossed it to cover the rope. Chung's eyes covered every inch of my frame. "Yes," Chung said. "Mara has chosen well. I enjoy the pleasures of a powerful woman." Chung moved closer and touched my breast, playing with the ring. "Yes physically strong," she commented. "But, it is the strength of mind that matters. I, too, was once a slave. I fought my way out. But you remain a slave because you lack bowels to fight." I did not reply. Chung slipped the killing stick into its scabbard. She took me into her arms and kissed me on the lips. My hand found her waist and caressed it. Her tongue penetrated my mouth. She was insistent and hungry, like someone who had denied herself pleasure far too long. My fingers located her stick. I cupped her breast with my left hand. She gasped. Her body shivered. I drew the stick with my right hand. Stepping back, I drew the stick across my body and struck with a backhand motion, the heel of the stick collapsing her throat. Chung's eyes grew wide. Her hands grasped damaged throat. She gurgled. Her surprised eyes spoke myriad questions. I clasped her to my breast, holding her against me. My lips locking against hers. If someone came along, they would believe we were lovers. Her lips grew cold beneath mine. The death throes ceased. Hearing no sound of alarm, I laid her body upon the stone and pulled the gold rings and chains from her body. Thick gold. Very valuable. I smiled. Chung wouldn't need gold adornments anymore. I regretted killing her, though. Chung was beautiful, exotic and slave trained. She would have brought me a high price at the slave market at Ter'ak'zer. I stripped her of loincloth and boots marveling at the three interlocking gold rings, two piercing her labia and a third passing between, effectively blocking the opening from any sexual penetration. I was pierced and wore gold rings in the same places. Any former slave was, but the chastity device I could do without. Perhaps the apparatus was part of the moon oath of chastity Omphale had made her Segelots take. The priestesses of Agos believed chastity conveyed strength to a warrior. I'd never placed much value in the dictates of Agos. I removed the rings from Chung's nether regions, adding those to the pile. I spread her loincloth across my hips and thought better of it. Wearing another's death trophy was bad luck. A garb as distinctive as Chung's would be remembered and noticed. I'd go bare, disguised as a slavegirl until I could find a more suitable article. I wrapped the gold in the macabre loincloth and placed the package between a slit in the rocks. If I lived -- I would be back for it. Chung's boots, I slipped upon my own feet. Her killing sticks I place around my waist. I looped the rope around Chung's neck, shoved her body over the wall ignoring how the broken glass cut her. It had been my experience that dead people didn't bleed. I lowered Chung's corpse to the ground, my right and left hand seesawing the rope back and forth. When she reached bottom, I retrieved the line. I might need it again. Chung's body, too, I would fetch when the sun rose. Queen Saf'ta would pay a bounty for the dead. I would keep the gold and those of Omphale's Segelots who lived and sell them at Ter'ak'zer. Then there was the promised bonus. That article was itself worth the risk of the mission. I had twice sixty drumbeats before the patrol emerged from the wall again. I set off at a run, my booted feet clicking against the hard stone. My naked body warmed from the excitement. I spied inside the palace yard. Fires burned at the four corners. Naked males milled about, cooking and tending to chores. Women sat together cleaning weapons, smoking and talking. Few sang or danced. Omphale's subjects did not seem particularly happy with her rule. The Queen's quarters lay on the third floor on the west side. I could not arrive there without crossing the courtyard. I could not cross the yard without some clothing girding my loins, unless I wanted to become the slave I now played at being. My plan depended upon the others mistaking me for just another former slave turned Segelot warrior. I moved to the rear side of the rampart. The Segelot standing guard turned and looked. She could not see my nakedness through the dark. I saluted, raising my right hand. She returned the salute and turned away. The killing sticks slipped into my hands. Yes, routine was death to a Segelot. I stepped closer. She stood in the light of a torch. A tall flame-haired Celt wearing leather gauntlets past her elbows and boots traveling to mid-thigh. Her hair was long and curly. She had woven a host of snow white pearls into her crimson locks. She held an iron trident in her right hand. Over her muscular left shoulder hung a weighted net. She possessed long tanned legs and torso, bare from the waist up. The click of my boots made her turn. Her breasts were finely formed, shoulders incredibly wide. Her green eyes examined me. My eyes traveled to her waist. Around it she wore a simple leather loincloth that covered her in the front but not the rear. A simple strip of leather descended the cleft of her buttocks. Yes, her costume would suit me well. She'd mounted a long jeweled stiletto to her right thigh in a leather sheath. Her eyes noted I approached bare at the waist. She determined that I was armed and not a naked slave sent with a message. She growled, turned and unfurled her net, casting it. I stepped aside, caught the net, twirled it and cast it back. It fell across her trident and hands. She threw it away with a circular motion, stepped forward and thrust. I turned and felt steel slither across my belly. My heart jumped. Sweat broke out in pools. That was way too close. I struck with the stick, striking her alongside the head. Bones cracked. The beautiful face was no longer. She growled again and tried to sound the alarm. I struck a second time. Teeth flew mixing with the pearls in her hair. The Celt fell to the ground, grasping for the knife, head still up. She struggled to her knees and lashed out with the blade. I danced as the strike narrowly missed my thigh. Kicking, I imbedded the killing blade of my right boot into her solar plexus. She gasped and fell. Our battle had made noise. I picked up the dagger and stripped her loincloth and dagger sheath. As I worked to cut the pearls from her hair, her eyes met mine. She spoke without words. The Celt was a warrior. It was wrong to let her suffer. I released my strangling cord and wrapped it around her neck. Her eyes bulged. Her body jerked. She was gone. I threw her body over the side, less concerned with noise. I had to move quickly. The bodies would soon be noticed, but by then it would no longer matter. I cached the pearls and slipped down the staircase, knife in hand. At the bottom, I looked out. A cookfire burned nearby but no one tended it. I took a step and walked into a young male who also lurked in the darkness. He jumped away. I heard the rattle of chain as he halted. I jumped after him, dragging him to the ground and pinning him. Too late, I realized the chain was attached to another. I rolled as a sword cleft the ground where I had been. I jumped to my feet, thrust and felt stiletto slip into flesh. "Ahh! Goddess --" she gasped, the invocation lost in the abyss. Droplets of blood sprayed over me. The body of a Segelot dropped to the ground. When I was sure the Segelot no longer drew breath, I turned to the boy. "Why are you here?" I whispered, my leg and hips forcing him to the earth. "She was to take me to the great hall. There I was to meet my lover Castos for the last time," he whispered back, sadness and a slight ring of hope making his voice tremble. "Male or female?" I asked. "A female slave," he replied. "I love her. We were found together and reported to the queen." "Were you to be punished?" I asked. "Spies reported our great passion to the Queen. We are to dance and entertain her with our lovemaking. Afterward, the High Priestess Yuri Aga will sacrifice us both to Agos." He was young -- no more than sixteen annos. Of course, Agos liked them young. "When will the sacrifice take place?" "As the sun begins to rise. We are to go to the Queen's chambers first." His blue eyes met mine. "Please let me go," he whispered. "Don't make me die. Castos and I love each other. With the last breath of my body I will try to free her." "How are you to die?" "The Qan Tin," he replied, eyes sad. "Queen Omphale worries for her rule. She wishes to know her future." I nodded. Qan Tin was a barbaric practice. A form of both sacrifice and divination, requiring a male and female subject. I unsheathed my dagger and placed it at his throat. "What is your name?" I asked. "Tecdor," he replied. "Do not say a word. Do not even breath if you wish to live," I said. He would do what I said, because I might let him live. Omphale would lay his belly open for sure. "Come," I said. "We go to meet your lover Castos." Tecdor turned white. Tears came to his eyes. I looked to the Segelot I had just killed, ignoring the boy and began removing loot from her body. She wore a minimum of gold. Her loincloth felt like it was spun from simple linen. My hand moved up her slim belly and cupped her breast. No slave rings. She had been a minor warrior. Fit only for duties such as delivering slaves. I stripped her, unfastened the chain from her waist and hooked it around mine. "Come," I said. "Remember, not a sound." Tecdor said nothing, just stepped before me like a Caguc Zombie. He was an attractive man -- strong thighs, muscular buttocks and wide chest. He was well built, but for me a man had to possess something more. The men of this province were like cattle. So unlike those in the land of Ka'ta'te where I had been a slave. Men there were Kings. Exciting in their passions and pleasures. In this land the women held sway, reducing the males to slavery. The yellow flames of a fire danced. Heat caressed my bare flesh. I turned my face to the darkness. Laughter reached out. "Cleave to Castos well, Tecdor," a Segelot voice taunted. "For it is your last chance." "Perhaps ghosts can still cleave," another feminine voice added. "It is said they love each other deeply. Perhaps they will continue to mate for Ceges pleasure in the Great Hall of Death." Laughter answered. Tecdor's steps faltered at the cruel words. I yanked the chain. He recovered himself. We passed on. Tecdor led me to the slave entrance of the palace. I followed him through a long corridor. "Where are the Queen's chambers?" I whispered. "In the tower beyond the hall. It has two levels and one entrance. The staircase is curving and narrow, barely enough room to wield a dagger." He turned. His eyebrows knit. "You intend to kill her -- the Queen?" "Not unless I have to. She is more valuable to me alive." He nodded. "I can help you get to her," he said. "How would you do that?" "You are a mercenary. Information carries a price." "And what is that price?" I asked, fighting to keep the laughter from my voice. "My life and that of Castos." I was starting to like Tecdor. His little attempt to strike a deal showed a lot of reaksha. With a little work he might become a man of strength. "You ask too much," I said. "It will be difficult enough for me to flee alone if things go badly. With two others escape will become impossible. Perhaps I should persuade you to tell me what you know." "You could do that," he said, "but, Castos and I are critical to your success. We might more than make up for any trouble we might cause." "Tell me more," I said, pressing on the door of the hall," but do it quickly." "Wait," he said, panic in his voice. "Yes." "As we pass you need only tell the Segelots that Queen Omphale has ordered us to her chamber. They know the Queen's appetites. They won't question you." It seemed a sound plan. Far easier than killing Segelots on a narrow staircase -- assuming Tecdor spoke the truth. But, this was the second mention he'd made of being summoned to the Queen's chambers. "Come," I said. His eyes fell. He pushed through the door. I held my breath, examining the scene from the corner of my eye. A great altar dominated the rear of the hall. Two steel cages lay beyond the altar. On the right, a beautiful slave girl stood shivering with fear, small hands gripping the bars of the cage. Her eyes lit and then fell at the sight of Tecdor. She was blonde, her eyes blue, with a figure Agos the moon goddess might approve. We approached the altar. A Segelot slipped from a position near the rear of the cage. Her dark eyes traveled over Tecdor and then me. She was an Ethop. Her hair hung below her buttocks in a thousand small braids. Her skin had a dark hue, so dark it almost took on an azure tint. Her hips were wide, her buttocks curvy and strong. She wore nothing but two living adders coiled sinuously around her neck, tongues licking out to caress her full breasts. A dagger swung from a slim golden chain circling her narrow waist. A large ruby gleamed in her naval. She was not a slave, nor was she a Segelot. This must be Yuri Aga, the High Priestess of Qir't'los. I gave her the right handed salute. Yuri seconded it. Her eyes ignored me and touched upon Tecdor. She stood next to him, her hands caressing his body, feeling along the ridges of his stomach. "Yes," she said, her voice whispering as sibilantly as her snakes. "He is young and healthy. His bowels and that of the woman's will hold many secrets. That they are lovers makes the magic that much stronger. The Queen will be pleased." I frowned, disgusted. My hand slipped the dagger from its sheath. I held it behind my leg and waited. She stepped around the boy, caressing his buttocks with long fingers scratching the skin with curving pink nails. She considered me then, eyes admiring my body. She came forward, arms outstretched. "Sister," she said. "You must be new here. I do not know you." She pulled me close with her powerful dark arms, her lips searched for mine to give the kiss of greeting. A High Priestess was never required to take a vow of chastity. Strength flowed into her through the mating ritual. The snakes caressed my breasts with dry flicking tongues. I forced my body to cling to hers. As her beautiful thick lips brushed mine, I shoved the dagger hard into her, opening her from pelvis to ribcage. She choked, eyes and mouth open wide in surprise. Her hand slipped to her dagger, but her shaking fingers could not move the steel. The snakes hissed, fangs bared, darting. I danced outside the range of the coiled reptiles. Yuri Aga slipped to the floor, eyes wide. Her reptilian familiars fled in a puff of smoke. Some of her insides had spilled out. Her shaking fingers moved to stuff them back into the rent. "What Yuri, not interested in reading your own future?" I asked. Yuri Aga spat blood but said nothing. She gagged and took several moments to die. I removed the ruby from her belly. Tecdor already stood at Castos' side, his mouth pressed to her lips. "Tecdor! Enough!" I said. "Come! We must hide the body." Tecdor ran to my side and grabbed a lifeless arm. We hid Yuri's body behind a wall tapestry depicting a Sybarite orgy. A positioning Yuri might have approved were she in a position to comment. Tecdor and I bolted to the cage. "Where is the key?" I whispered. Castos' eyes darted like a fawn's. "She had it on her belt, near the dagger," she said. "She placed the key there after she locked me in." I had already removed the gold chain and dagger. I wore them now around my own waist. The High Priestess's dagger rode on the opposite hip from the Celt's, next to the sword I'd taken from Tecdor's keeper. I ran my fingers along the chain and felt nothing. Where could the key be? I turned, intending to return to the body. "Wait," Tecdor said, his hands already moving toward my belt. I grabbed his wrist and crushed him to his knees. "No," he gasped. "Look at the dagger hilt. The coiled snakes can be removed. I see the line of the joint." My hands twisted the top of the dagger. The hilt opened into two pieces, the top becoming a key. I opened the cage. It was an interesting trinket. I dropped the ruby inside for safe keeping and replaced the key. I'd remove the scarlet gem later. Perhaps the new Queen could find some use for the dagger and the cages. Castos' eyes transformed from fear to joy. Tecdor wrapped her in his arms, his lips pressed to hers. I envied them their love -- an emotion that had died within me during my enslavement in Ka'ta'te. Their passion ceased, but it was not I who caused them to part. "We must go," Castos said. "We must be far from Qir't'los, before the sun god's chariot begins its journey through the heavens." "Remember our deal, Tecdor," I said. Castos' eyes grew wide. Tecdor's eyes fell. "We must go to the Queen's chambers," he said. "Why Tecdor?" Castos moaned. "We go to our deaths." I stepped toward Castos. Grasping her golden curls, I yanked her head up. "You will do as I say," I said. "Obey my every wish if you want to greet the dawn, belly intact." Castos said nothing. She nodded. Tecdor's eyes accused. I ignored him. I was not here to make new friends. "Since you have placed a love claim upon her, Tecdor, perhaps you would like to place her in chains." Tecdor did as I bid him. Castos eyes remained downcast. She was beautiful. It would be a shame to see her die. She would bring pouches of thick gold at the great slave market. When Castos was bound in chains, I attached her and Tecdor's to my waist. "Let's go," I said. Tecdor led the way. We passed through the great hall and along an eerie corridor lit with lanterns made from the skulls of dead warriors. The way was intended to frighten the weak and superstitious. I was neither. We crossed into an antechamber. A giant Teuton accosted us there. The Segelot wore a filmy white loincloth and carried a double-bladed war axe. The muscles of her legs, arms and shoulders rippled as she moved. She was both beautiful and monstrous. I feared a confrontation with her. I needn't have worried. The woman nodded and stepped aside. We walked quickly to the staircase. Indeed, the Queen's passions seemed to be well known. As I stepped upon the stairs, the Segelot said, "Halt. You have not spoken the password." I paused, watching Castos and Tecdor turn to human statues. "The password, of course," I said. "Isn't it, 'death'?" The Teuton lifted her axe indicating a wrong answer. I bounded up the stairs and leaped upon her, kicking the axe away. Her great arms pinned me, crushing me. I gasped and groaned. She lifted me. My arms beat about her head and shoulders with no effect. She bashed me against the wall. Pain ripped through my body, nearly causing me to pass out. She continued to crush me. My back would soon break. I could not reach my weapons. Jamming my forearm against her throat, I wrapped my other arm around her head. Cheek to cheek, I blood- choked her. The color drained from her face. In a nonce she would pass out. She chose to release me. I refused to let go. Her fists struck against my belly like two stones. I felt a horrible pain in my side and hoped a rib had not broken. I still refused to let go. After several nonce she staggered and fell. The Teuton was dizzy but not out. I choked her until she went limp, released her and clutched my side. The pain refused to allow me to straighten. I took several deep breaths. "You must kill her," Tecdor said. "No," I said. "We will bind her. She is magnificent. At Ter'ak'zer she will be worth several roch of gold." I tied her wrists with her loincloth and left her lying on the stone. She would regain consciousness soon. "Hurry," I said. "We must go up." I followed them up the stairs, the pain in my side easing with each step. We found a barred oak doorway. I rapped upon it with my dagger. A sentry's portal opened. A Segelot face peered out. "For Queen Omphale," I said, indicating my captives. The woman nodded and opened the door. A willowy mongol stopped us. She was beautiful, at least six feet tall. Her dark almond eyes examined our faces. "You have taken your time," she said. "The Queen is impatient to slake her passions." I smiled. "She is always impatient, is she not. These two are not in as great a hurry to have their belly's opened as the Queen is in a hurry to have it done. Short of cutting them open myself, what am I to do?" The Mongol nodded, eyes perusing the two slaves. She laughed. "I think the Queen will find these two worth the wait. I have oft wondered whether immanent death made a slave more passionate." "It is a good question," I said, forcing a laugh. The Mongol took Tecdor into her arms, caressing his buttocks, her mouth breathing against his. "What is the answer, Tecdor. Do you feel more or less passion?" "Leave him alone," Castos blurted, her eyes burning with jealousy. The Mongol's dagger jumped into her hand. She placed it to Castos throat. "Perhaps your mouth will not be so agile when you lie upon the cold stone with your entrails spread for Yuri Aga's inspection." "Enough," I said. "The Queen waits." The Mongol nodded. "Is there anyone else in the Queen's chamber?" I asked. "Just Areque, Queen Saf'ta's daughter. She has yet to fully accustom herself to her new role." "Ah," I said. "I've heard she tender and sweet. All slaves come around to their lot no matter what their beginnings. Areque will with time." "Yes. Our leader believes the former Queen's daughter is worth the wait. She is even more exquisite as a slave than she was as a Princess." "Isn't it always the case," I said, nodding. The Segelot walked us to the door of the Queen's boudoir and tapped upon the heavy door. After a nonce, Queen Omphale, herself, opened the door. I averted my eyes. The Queen ignored me, eyes drawn to Castos and Tecdor. "Ah. They are wonderful," the Queen said. "Come. Hurry. The dawn is nearly upon us." "Yes, it is," I murmured, leading my charges inside the she-spider's lair. Omphale closed the door and locked it, leaving key in lock and the guard on the other side. I examined her from the corner of my eye. The years had granted her even greater beauty. Dark of flesh and eye, her body was curvy and muscular. Her bare breasts bore slave rings. A chain dangled between her legs revealing the existence of her nether rings. She wore a jeweled headdress that allowed her long dark hair to hang free. At her waist Omphale carried a long slim blade. She bore no other weapon, nor did she need any. She, like I, had won her freedom from the Sultan of Ka'ta'te by becoming a champion of the death ring. My eyes crept away and examined the rest of the room. Upon the floor lay a wealth of satin and furs, pillowed and softened in the Eastern fashion. Snowy white hair and skin beckoned from beneath black xagon fur. Gleaming azure eyes watched us all with a look of hate mixed with fear. Omphale who missed nothing noted my glance. "Is she as beautiful as you imagined, Segelot?" "What I can see exceeds my expectations, my Queen." "You may dispense with that title here, Segelot. I have not seen you at Qir't'los , though you seem familiar." I looked her in the eye. My bluff was a mistake. Recognition gleamed in those dark eyes, before a glint of fear. "Vara," she said, a smile broadening her thick lips. "It has been a long time." The fear was gone from her as though it had never been. "Yes," I replied. "I thought to surprise you. The others joined in the ruse." Her long delicate fingers played over her sword hilt. Her dark gaze held me riveted. My heart beat faster. "I have followed your exploits since you gained your freedom," the Queen said. "You are a fighter of great renown, yet you wear no crown. Why is that, Vara?" I shrugged. "There is trouble enough finding food to eat and soft bodies to warm my bed. I do not need the additional trouble of a Queendom." Omphale slipped away across the room, her body's movements an exotic form of dance. She continued to watch me from the corner of her eyes. The Queen reclined upon the satin and fur and beckoned Tecdor, Castos and I closer. Her hand did not abandon her sword hilt. Omphale pulled the xagon fur away from the body of the princess. My eyes could not help but drink in that fair form. Princess Areque was young and beautiful. Her hands were chained behind her. She wore the collar, wrist and ankle of a pleasure slave. Her body had been freshly pierced by slave rings. Omphale caressed Areque's snowy hair. The smile left the Queen's face. Her muscles tensed. She grasped and pulled. Areque's fiery blue eyes conveyed pain and anger. As her thick red lips touched Omphales thicker redder ones, passion replaced Areque's anger and pain. Areque fought this passion at first, but unable to subdue it, she allowed it to consume her. The Queen's eyes never left my face. Omphale paused after several nonce. "So, Vara? When may I expect the rest to arrive?" "What do you mean? my Queen," I responded, my heart sinking. "Don't toy with me, Vara. From our early days, I have known you. After living through Ka'ta'te your nature would never permit itself to be subdued by another. You have come to take my throne. However, even you would not come alone to depose me." My own fingers now touched the hilt of my sword. "You have grown in your suspicions, my friend. Perhaps the role of Queen does not suit you as well as another." Omphale laughed, her fingers stroked Areque's breasts. "The wealth of a kingdom and the body's of marvelous slaves are not things I would give up easily. I will never become a slave again if that is the role to which you refer." "I would expect nothing less," I said. "It is my intent that you remain here and do not lead your Segelots. If you follow my wishes, you will live to greet the dawn." Omphale nodded. She looked at Castos and Tecdor. It appears I was late in making sacrifice to Agos." "You have changed," I said. "The Omphale I knew would have never stooped to embrace the dark magic." Omphale did not reply. I waited for her to give the alarm, but she did not. Omphale cocked an ear. A great banging sound could be heard over that of the time drum. Screams and the sound of steel raised itself to us through the open window. "Ah, it has begun then," Omphale said. I bolted to the door and removed the key. Omphale gained her feet, the sword slipped into her hand with a whisper -- as though dead steel drew breath. "I may lose my kingdom, Vara, but not before you lose something more precious." Tecdor grasped Castos hand and dragged her to the side of the room. They cowered against the wall, eyes wide. Areque's eyes took on a haughty brilliance. "Do not kill her," the princess ordered. She will take my place in chains before the sun rises." Omphale and I ignored her. The Queen's eyes remained fastened to my face. I did not wish to kill Omphale. However, like me, Omphale would never again become a prisoner or slave. Sparks flew as our blades crossed. Omphale's steel, a whisper, a wind, a phantom, here now, there then. Omphale attack was calm and deliberate. She had not survived the death ring by being impetuous. I worked defense upon defense, offense upon offense swordplay learned in Damascus and practiced within the halls of Ceteeeok. Omphale parried each attack. There came a pounding upon the chamber door. I had no way of knowing if the pounding came from friend or foe. We fought on. "You have taken my kingdom, Vara, but you will never sit upon its throne," Omphale said. Omphale punctuated her statement with a thrust that nicked my right breast, nearly piercing me mortally. I pushed away before the blade could penetrate and countered with a slice that opened the flesh upon Omphale's thigh. She staggered and stepped backward, her feet tangled in the satin coverlet. I leaped. She rolled right. I fled, lurching across the furs to the left. I heard a clang and looked up. Omphale lay upon the stone floor, eyes closed, her sword lay next to her hand. Tecdor stood over her, a large copper urn clutched between his hands. There was terror in his eyes. His body shook. He was preparing to strike her again. "No, Tecdor!" I bellowed. He hesitated and looked to me. "If you wish to live, do not kill her," I said. Tecdor stepped back and dropped the urn. Castos sprang to his side and wrapped her slim arms around his shaking body. "Kill her," Areque screamed. Hatred and fear twisted her beautiful face. "She is worth much to me alive," I said. "I am the princess," Areque screamed. "I order you to finish her." How quickly a slave could become a despot. "Remove your chains and those of Castos," I said to Tecdor. "Bind Omphale with them." I advanced to the sea of satin and fur. Areque had succeeded in rising to her knees. She turned, bending offering her irons so that I could remove them. I slapped her hands away and took her fair locks. I yanked and watched the haughtiness disappear from her eyes. The banging had ceased upon the chamber door, indicating that the Segelot had fled. "Extinguish the lamp, Castos," I said. "We will wait here for the dawn." The light blinked out. I pulled Areque to me, and listened to her breathing deepen as I caressed her. From the other side of the room, I heard the sounds of lovers locked in passionate embrace. My tongue pressed hard into Areque's mouth. She fought before acquiescing. I found this quite exciting. The dawn came. The war cries of Segelots had become the whispers and moans of the enslaved. Areque's eyes burned with hate. She not complained during our joining, though she fought hard to deny her passions now. "I will see your belly opened for what you have done," she said. I shrugged. Areque was a foolish little girl. The kingdom was all that mattered to her mother the Queen. There came a knock upon the door. "Who is there?" I asked. "Getra, a male voice replied. "We have taken the castle." I opened the door and looked out. Getra, the leader of the Queen's new band of Silesian mercenies locked his one eye upon me and grinned. Several of his men waited behind him for orders. I had persuaded Saf'ta to hire Getra. There was little call for male mercenaries in our world. It was a good night, old friend," Getra said. "My men, even now, cleave to the bodies of the fallen." "Bind the prisoners," I said. "Assemble them for the march of triumph. We will meet the Queen at the parade field. There we will turn over the kingdom and divide the spoils." Getra grinned, his hairy body moved closer. "What of her and the others," he said, pointing to the stirring body of Omphale and then at Tecdor, Castos and Areque. "Find Delios. Strip Omphale and place her over his neck. This one," I said, pointing to Areque, will remain in chains and walk behind my horse." "What?" Areque screamed. "My mother will see you all dead." Areque's voice had grown quite shrill. Getra laughed. I smiled. Areque's haughty manner was attractive. I had enjoyed bedding her, subduing her with my strength and passion. I suspected others might as well. She continued to curse as Getra's men dragged her to her feet. I stepped to her side and whispered in her ear. "If you utter another sound, I will allow these me to sample what I have sampled." Areque's curses ceased. Her head bowed as they led her away. At the side of the room Tecdor and Castos quaked in fear. "These two have my safe passage," I said. "They must flee beyond the walls of the castle. If they are found in this land after the sun sets, they will again become slaves." Tecdor nodded. Castos smiled gratefully. I gave the lovers a chance. It wasn't much. The odds were against them. Within a fortnight they would probably warm some other master's bed. That was not my worry. I spent the next hour inspecting the slaves and gathering the loot. The Queen Saf'ta would take possession of a ruined kingdom. That, too, was not my worry. I mounted Delios. Omphale lay across his neck. Thick chains fastened her hands behind her back. A thick collar now ringed her slim throat. Arm and ankle fetters locked her limbs. Chains restricted all but the slightest movement. She said nothing. She was brave and patient. I tied Areque's white mount to Delios. Areque looked exquisite wearing nothing but her slave chains. "Please," she begged, her voice like honey now. "I am a princess. Do not display me before the people like this." I ignored her. "My mother will have you gutted for this," she threatened, all honey gone as though it had never been. I continued to ignore her. The parade left the gates of the castle, Delios and I lead more than a dozen chained Segelots thrown across the saddles of their own horses. A scattering of beautiful male and female slaves walked in chains behind them. The stripped bodies of the dead silently rode across the backs of their mounts. Getra and his men had gone ahead to clear the way. A huge crowd had formed upon the green sward of the parade ground. A dias had been hastily erected. A rectangular cage extending six paces in all directions waited next to the dias. A passage constructed of two lines of sharpened stakes waited, white pointed tips facing the sun. Getra's Silesian guards waited behind these stakes. The corridor began where I waited upon Delios and ended at the door of the cage. Omphale grunted, fear widening her eyes for the first time. Queen Saf'ta waited. She wore a sheer silky gown that revealed her body. For a woman who had seen her fortieth turning of seasons and her own exile, she looked well. The Queen bowed. The gesture was a rare consession to one of my ilk for one of her rank. I returned the courtesy. A voice called out in anger. "Mother, look what they have done to me!" Areque cried. The Queen's eyes softened at the sight of her daughter and hardened again. She ignored the girl's pleas, her eyes coming to rest upon Omphale. "Place the usurper in the cage," the Queen ordered, her strong voice addressing the crowd. "She will die, pierced over and over by the sharpened limbs you see before you. It is fitting and just. I Saf'ta have spoken." Getra motioned. The gauntlet of Silesian mercenaries gripped the sharpened wood. Eyes fastened to Omphale's captive form. "Kill me now, Vara" Omphale whispered. "No warrior deserves a death like this." Getra stepped forward, placing his hands upon Omphale's curvy hips and began to drag her from Delios. Delios turned, snarling, his red vampyr eyes burning. I raised my arm. "Wait," I said. All eyes looked to me and then to the Queen. There was no question in the minds of the populace who was in charge here. I had no desire to be a Queen, however. "I have ordered her to die in the cage as a lesson to all who might oppose me in the future," Saf'ta said, a hint of fear in her eyes. "Our bond was that any of the Segelot's who still lived would become my property," I said. "My hand reached out to caress Omphale's taut buttocks. She is beautiful and slave trained. She will bring much gold at Ter'ak'zer" The Queens eyes darkened. The promised spectacle of Omphale's brutal death had made the crowd anxious for blood. Murmers began. The crowd began to mill. I was making the Queen look weak. Fear came to the eyes of the mercenaries. They were here for pay. They had no wish to die at the hands of a mob. I raised my voice again, my hand moved along Omphale's back. I gripped her beautiful dark hair and lifted her head so all could see her face. "Death is easy for one such as she," I said. "Being stripped and chained is hard. A public flogging and a living slave will be a reminder to all that Saf'ta the Strong returned from exile to reclaim her kingdom. Death is forgotten quickly in this world. If Omphale dies, within a fortnight no one will remember she lived. As a slave, Omphale's humiliation will continue, Saf'ta's reputation will grow. Omphale the Enslaved's stripes will heal long before she reaches Ter'ak'zer." The crowd grew silent. The Queen considered my words. After a moment, she said, "Chain her to the bars of the cage and cut a sapling. Let the others be whipped as well." Getra smiled winked at me and dragged Omphale from the horse. They unchained her just long enough to spread eagle her body against the cage. Her back muscles rippled as she strained. Her wide shoulders knotted. Her long legs strained and fought for freedom. A mercenary returned from the forest bearing a supple reed. Getra took his position. Saf'ta motioned. The flogging commenced, each stroke causing Omphale to grunt and writhe and the crowd to cheer. After a dozen strokes, Getra released her, turning the reed over to his Sarcal. Omphale's body collapsed upon the ground, tears wetting her eyes. They chained and returned her to my horse. My gloved hand moved over the marks upon her back and buttock. Yes. These would heal long before I reached Ter'ak'zer. The other Segelot's received their stripes from Getra's men, most emitting loud cries for the edification of the crowd. During this, Getra and I split the slaves and booty. I prepared to go, my share of loot placed in a sack upon Delios' back, my slaves thrown over the backs of their horses. I looked up. Areque remained naked upon her horse. Her eyes had grown misty and wide. I looked around, enjoying the sight of my loot. Mounting, I pulled my cloak about me. The winds of Sehremor had begun. Getra stood a feet away. "Anon of friend," I said. "Will you keep her kingdom for her?" "Of course. We have been pursued far to long. It is hard for a male to bear arms in this world. This land suits me and my men well. Queen Saf'ta seems pleased with our work. We will use our loot to buy slaves to keep us warm. We might finally be happy here." I nodded. He grinned, his one good eye fastened upon me. "Anon, Vara," he said. "When we are old, and our passions for life have ebbed, we should mate. I will pretend to be your slave. Perhaps we could run a little inn in Ter'ak'zer or something of the like." I laughed. "I will take a vow," I said. "If I am still alive." We laughed. I spurred Delios forward and heard a scream. I looked behind me. Areque tried to throw herself from the saddle. I had anticipated this. The chain around her belly fastened her tightly to the back of her mount. "Mother! Mother!" she screamed. "How could you do this to me?" Saf'ta ignored her, though each word made the Queen's body jerk as if it, too, received a stroke of the sapling. Areque continued to cry out. I ignored her. She would get over it in time. I had. Areque was the bonus Saf'ta had paid to retrieve her kingdom. A blood princess brought a high price at the great market. This I knew -- because I, too, had been born a princess. I, too, had been captured by mercenaries. I, too had been sold in the great market. Such things happened in my world. I Vara the Unchained did not make the rules, I simply profited by them.