Barbarian Tales 1: Mistress of the Sword - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Captive

Shailaja lost track of how many leagues she and her captors travelled. Exhausted from her struggles, and with her head down over the back of Halvar, she soon became completely disoriented. Her painful and degrading journey seemed to go on almost interminably and every bump in the road threatened to have her heave the contents of her stomach onto the ground that moved beneath Halvar's feet. However, she did not give up hope. By now her absence would have been noted and the other members of the hunting party would be searching for her. The Kaltarans were all superb woodmen and it would not take them long to pick up her trail. But then she remembered that Cleron was part of the hunting party as well. No doubt he would do his best to delay it as much as possible. However, she knew that her mother and father would not be delayed for long. Once they worked out that she had been ambushed and abducted, they would be after her no matter what Cleron did; and any further attempts to hinder them would simply throw suspicion upon the Emperor. Somehow or other she would be rescued.

Her confidence in that event, however, was quickly shaken when she realized that she was no longer moving and that her captors were moving to remove her from the back of Halvar. Denov picked her up once again and tossed her over his shoulder. "You two take the plenya and lead a false trail," he said to the other two men. "Then dump the animals and use the lake to make good your escape. We'll meet again in Prithia."

"Let's hope so," Veron replied. "I've no wish to be caught by the Kaltarans. They won't be pleased that we've made off with one of their precious warrior women."

"You know your orders," Denov replied. "If you're caught use the deathwort."

"That's easy for you to say," Denov sneered. "But I don't fancy taking poison."

"Just remember that the lives of your women and children are in Cleron's hands. Do as you were ordered or they'll die before you do."

The conversation revealed to Shailaja that her abduction had been well planned; almost too well planned. It appeared that Cleron had arranged for her abduction even before he had asked for the marriage alliance, revealing a level of cynicism and ruthlessness that few would have predicted. It also meant that any chance of a quick rescue was much less likely. That fear was confirmed moments later when she heard the sound of running water.

From her awkward position over Denov's shoulders she could see that they had stopped just in front of a wooden bridge. However, Denov did not carry her over it; instead he walked down the side of the bridge toward the water. Shailaja suddenly knew where she was, having crossed the bridge before on previous hunting trips; and just as suddenly she gained an inkling of her captors' plans. While two of them laid a false trail for any pursuers Denov would take to the water. Just a league upstream was a long narrow lake that pushed west into the formidable barrier known as the Mountains of Storms. If she was taken into that region she would be almost impossible to track.

There was also another reason to be concerned about the route they were taking. The Mountains of Storms were rarely travelled even by Kaltarans. They were the known range of the feared snow walkers and were thought to be inhabited by even fiercer beasts. It was a place that most Kaltarans stayed well away from just on principle. With her mouth gagged, however, Shailaja could not have given warning even if she were so inclined.

Denov reached the water, and shifting his weight, lowered Shailaja into a small boat. He set her in the centre of the craft facing forward, and took up a position in the stern. Using a paddle he pushed the boat out into the swift flowing stream, keeping close to the edge where the current was least strong. Dipping the paddle strongly he began to push the boat upstream. Shailaja could see another reason why the stream had been chosen. The terrain on either side was rugged and thickly wooded. Anyone pursuing by land would be easily outdistanced and it seemed unlikely that any pursuers would soon determine that she had been taken by water in any case.

She stared helplessly as she was carried farther and farther away from rescue. Her only consolation was that riding in the boat was far more comfortable than being slung over the back of a plenya. It also gave her a chance to study the shackles on her ankles. They appeared to be made out of a single piece of metal that had been bent so that it would fit around each of her ankles. A metal bar held by a simple pin had been closed over the bent iron to tightly clamp her ankles. It was a simple arrangement, but one Shailaja could do nothing about unless she could somehow free her arms. She guessed from the feel of the restraints that clamped her just above the elbows that her arms were held by a device similar to the one that clamped her ankles. She also saw that struggling would do her not the slightest good. Unless someone helped her remove the shackles she was a prisoner and would remain that way.

From behind her came the voice of Denov. "I'll remove the gag as soon as we are far enough away that there is no possibility of anyone hearing you if you scream for help. Until then enjoy the ride."

Shailaja would have liked to have told him that a Kaltaran warrior did not scream for help, but that was not possible. Until he removed the gag she had no choice but to do what he suggested.

It took Denov what Shailaja guessed was two turns of the glass to reach the lake. It stretched before them for as far as she could see, bordered by heavily treed mountain slopes. Her spirits sank as she realized that Denov could put in at almost any point along the shore, making him almost impossible to track.

True to his word, Denov leaned forward and untied the gag. Shailaja immediately spat it out, glad to be freed from the odious device. Her mouth and throat were dry from having been forced open for so long and her leather tunic was wet from the drool that had flowed from her open mouth. She found that the first part of her ordeal had left her desperately thirsty, so much so that she would have had trouble shouting for help even if she had wished to. Surrounded by water on all sides she could do nothing except watch the banks go by and hope that something would happen that would help her escape.

Unfortunately, nothing did. Denov paddled slowly down the lake, keeping to the south side. From the way he kept looking toward the shore, Shailaja guessed that he was looking for something. Then about half a league ahead she saw a thin plume of smoke. Denov saw it too and turned the boat toward it. As he neared the shore several figures stepped from where they had been hiding and walked to the edge of the lake.

"Hail, Denov," one of them called. "I see your expedition went well."

"It went perfectly, Surbin," Denov replied. "I expect the Kaltarans are still blundering about in the bush looking for their missing princess."

The men on the bank laughed and then helped pull the boat onto the bank. "This is the princess?" Surbin asked, giving Shailaja a hard look. "I can certainly see why Cleron wants her. Have you had a good look at her yet?"

"Cleron wants her untouched," Denov replied. "I have already had to warn Veron away from her."

"I just want to see if those jutting breasts are as impressive as they look pushing out her shirt," Surbin laughed. "Nothing more than that I assure you."

"I don't favour being anywhere near the Emperor if he finds out we've been looking over his prize," Denov answered. "What's to stop her from telling him?"

Surbin turned his gaze back to Shailaja. "You might be right, but I've got a hunch that Cleron wants this one broken. Stripping her down would be a good first step. And if she's like any Kaltaran I've ever met she'll be too damned proud to say a word about it."

Two men stepped forward and helped Shailaja from the boat. She found herself standing facing Surbin. In spite of her helpless situation she looked coldly into his eyes, saying nothing.

"Her arms and ankles are chained," Surbin commented, "but she stands like an empress almost daring me to do something to her."

"Perhaps she expects to be an empress once Cleron is through with her," one of the other men said.

"An interesting thought," Surbin replied. "Then we'd be able to brag that we'd looked upon the breasts of an empress."

Shailaja heard this discourse with growing anger and frustration. She could feel the eyes of every man upon her, examining her impressive figure, particularly her breasts which were thrust forward due to the painful pinioning of her arms. She kept her gaze steady, refusing to look away from Surbin who seemed to be the leader of her captors.

"A proud bitch," Surbin sneered. "I'd really enjoy breaking her."

"She's Kaltaran," Denov replied. "What do you expect? They're all a stiff-necked bunch."

"She's getting me stiff, just looking at her," Surbin said, lowering his hand to his crotch suggestively. "I can't see that there would be any harm in seeing what the emperor is getting."

"Alright," Denov said resignedly. "Just as long as looking is as far as it goes."

"No worries there," Surbin grinned. "I value my cock too much to take any chances that the Emperor might want it cut off." He moved as he spoke, reaching for the ties on Shailaja's shirt.

"Touch a Kaltaran warrior and you will pay with your life," Shailaja hissed. Her throat was so dry that the words did not come out with the force she would have chosen.

"Surbin laughed. "Well, she can talk. For a few heartbeats I thought you'd captured a mute." His fingers went to the ties of her shirt and within a heartbeat he had it open, revealing her breasts.

"Impressive," Surbin gawked, "it's a real shame to keep these hidden." He reached out and pinched each of Shailaja's pink nipples. "By the gods, they are as ripe melons."

Shailaja's reaction was not what she would have wished. She flushed bright red, the sudden colouring flowing from her face to her neck and then to her breasts and belly. Fortunately she was spared further humiliation by Denov.

"Enough," he ordered. "You have seen her, now leave her for the Emperor. He will not be pleased to learn that you have dared to fondle his prize."

Reluctantly Surbin stepped back, but no effort was made to close Shailaja's shirt. Instead it was left as it was for the further pleasure of her captors. There were eleven of them in all, a sizeable group to escort a single prisoner, but then they were deep in Kaltara and somehow had to get her to the Emperor without being caught.

As it was early afternoon, there was no further activity for the rest of the day. Instead, to Shailaja's relief the twisted iron band was removed from her ankles. It made escape no easier as it was hard to visualize dashing off into the rugged mountain landscape with her arms locked behind her. And in any case, Denov continued to act as her personal escort. He shepherded her toward a tent that seemed to have been especially prepared with her in mind. It had been erected using a living fir tree as a centre post. All of the branches had been trimmed from the trunk, leaving it immovably secured to the ground. Hanging ominously from it was a heavy chain attached to an iron collar.

Shailaja was ushered into the tent and the collar quickly secured to her neck and locked in place by a large padlock. "That should hold you, princess," Denov stated. "I would advise you not to attempt an escape in any case. The tent will be watched on all sides and even if you do get out there is nowhere to go. Now, kneel before me and I will remove the arm shackles."

Shailaja did not like the way the last command was phrased, but she was more than eager to have the painful and humiliating arm restraints removed. She knelt as ordered and breathed a sigh of relief as her arms were freed. Immediately burning pain filled her arms as the circulation returned. During her time in the irons her arms had gone numb right down to her hands, and the return of blood to her limbs was very painful. However, she showed none of this to Denov, nor did she comment on the fact that for her the wilderness about them offered few terrors. She had grown up in the woods and would have little difficulty living off the land in the warm summer weather.

However, Denov's warning about escaping proved unnecessary. The heavy iron collar prevented any attempt at escape. Perhaps in time she might have worked out a way to break or pick the padlock, but she wasn't given that time. Instead she was carefully watched, one of her captors sitting in the doorway where he could keep an eye on her at all times. There was one positive development and that was that she was brought food and water. She was also able to close her shirt, depriving her guards of their main entertainment.

However, there was little else she could do. Finishing her food and water she sat on the floor of the tent with her back against the centre pole and tried to get some much-needed rest. Sleeping on the ground was not the best, but exhaustion soon overcame her and she slipped into a restless slumber.

She awoke long before morning and sat waiting to see what awaited her. As Denov had warned a guard sat in the doorway of the tent. He grinned at her as he noticed she was awake. "Did you sleep well, princess? I hope you got plenty of rest. You're in for a long ride today."

Shailaja made no reply. She wished that her captors would stop referring to her as a princess. Kaltarans had no hereditary ranks, relying upon merit to choose their leaders. Politically Kaltara was a loose conglomeration of clans, each choosing its own leader. Her parents, the Hasta were elected as Warleaders by the other clan leaders purely on their ability to lead. As the daughter of the Hasta she enjoyed no more advantages than the average Kaltaran warrior and was given no special privileges. However, none of that mattered now. Her family could not help her if it could not find her, and her abduction had been so cleverly planned she doubted that there was any proof that Cleron was behind it.

It took another turn of the glass for Denov to show up. By that time the sound of awakening birds showed that dawn was not long off. "Shackle her and take her to see to her needs," Denov ordered the guard. "Then bring her back to the camp for breakfast."

Shailaja did not even think of resisting as the guard placed the irons on her arms once again. Her bladder was almost bursting and resistance would have been futile in any case, and would probably have simply given her captors a little more sport. Still, it filled her with shame to have the guard pull down her leather trousers for her in order that she could relieve herself. She found it almost as shameful when she was led to the centre of the camp and fed by hand, her captors taking no chances.

"She's a fetching beauty," the man spooning porridge into her commented. "It's too bad we can't have a little sport with her before we get her to Cleron. After all, how would he know?"

"He'd know alright," Denov smirked. "According to our best sources the Princess Shailaja is a bit of a rarity. A Kaltaran slut who still has her virginity."

"Why don't we strip her and find out for certain?" the man asked. "We could be having a little fun on the way. It will take us at least two weeks to get her to Cleron."

Denov growled in exasperation. "This is my last word on the matter. Cleron has ordered that the Kaltaran princess be brought to him as she is. I will inform the Emperor of anyone who attempts to go against his orders."

The last threat seemed to work. If anyone disagreed with Denov's position they kept it to themselves and went about the business of breaking camp. Within a turn of the glass they were on their way.

This time Shailaja was placed on the back of a plenya. In spite of the fact that her arms were once again shackled and stretched behind her back, she was able to keep her seat without difficulty. She had been riding since infancy and needed no reins to guide her mount. Denov, however, took that out of her hands by having her ride directly behind him, the reins of her plenya tied to the back of his saddle.

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They travelled that way for the next ten days. Through good fortune the unpredictable mountain weather remained warm and clear and as a result they made better time than Denov had expected. Shailaja recognized little of the country through which they travelled, not having come that way before, but knew that every day brought her closer to Cleron. For her it was a hard journey. She spent dawn to dusk in the saddle, her arms cruelly pinioned behind her. Had it not been for her extraordinary physique such an ordeal would have been crippling. As it was she arrived stiff and exhausted at each day's chosen campsite and offered little resistance to her captors.

"I had heard that the warrior women of Kaltara were something to be feared," Denov sneered. "But I've seen more spunk in a kitten that I've seen in you."

Shailaja noted that he sneered this remark after she had been chained to the centre post of the tent once again. "Release me from this chain and give me a sword and you will see just how much like a kitten I am," she retorted.

"I'd love to give you my sword," Denov jeered, motioning toward his crotch. "Perhaps after the Emperor tires of you I might get a chance."

There was little Shailaja could say to this. For most of the ten days she had been a prisoner she had been subjected to the jibes and insults of her captors. There was no way she could reply to them with any dignity, and for the most part she had given up trying.

"I have a little bit of news for you," Denov continued. "Something to look forward to. We have arrived at our destination. Now we wait for the Emperor. He should be here in a day or so."

Shailaja felt her stomach flip, although her expression remained unchanged. Finally, after ten days of being a helpless prisoner she was about to meet the man who had ordered her capture. It was something she had thought about during the boredom of her captivity. And now it seemed the event was finally here. She could not help a feeling of intense nervousness as she contemplated her fate. Cleron had left no doubt of his desire for her and his reputation for cruelty was legendary. The thought of being completely at his mercy was more than frightening, but she showed no emotion, holding her fiery nature in check.

Her reaction seemed to annoy Denov. "Scared to death aren't you?" he taunted. "We'll see just how much of a warrior you are. I'm betting you're just going to be another frightened virgin."

His taunt came a little too close to the truth. Shailaja feared no man, provided she was allowed to face him with a sword in her hand, but the thought of facing Cleron unarmed and shackled made it difficult to control her fear. However, there was nothing she could do except wait. She was a warrior of Kaltara and she would face her fear with the courage of her ancestors.

Continued in Chapter 4

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