Tales of Thuria 1: Red Sonja in Chains - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Unexpected Treasure

Sonja moaned again. She ached all over and was desperately thirsty. She could remember lashing herself to the mast and very little after that. Suddenly she was desperately sick. Her stomach heaved and she vomited up a couple of pints of brackish water. The Vilayet might be drinkable, but she had apparently swallowed a bit too much of it.

Grunting with the effort she pushed herself up onto her elbows. She was lying in wet sand and guessed that she had washed up on some beach. She also found that the heavy chain connecting her wrists was still there and to her dismay that the section of mast she had lashed herself to had come to rest on top of her legs, pushing her body into a slight hollow in the sand. The mast must have settled on her gradually as the tide went out, and had not crushed her legs, but it had her effectively pinned. In addition, she was enmeshed in the ropes and rigging she had used to tie herself to the mast. An experimental wiggling of her toes told her that nothing seemed to be permanently damaged, but the heavy piece of wood prevented any further movement and without a knife it was going to be difficult to free herself from the tangle of ropes. It flashed through her mind how ironic it would be if she had miraculously escaped shipwreck only to die on the beach pinned beneath the piece of wreckage that had saved her life.

She exerted all of her strength, digging her fingers into the sand in an attempt to pull herself free, but she was stuck fast and her continued efforts to free herself rapidly drained her of her remaining strength. The tide, she thought. When the tide comes in it should float the mast and I might be able to get free. There was another less optimistic possibility, that the mast would keep her pinned as the water rose around her and she would drown. It would be a sad ending for one who had lived her life as a warrior.

Forced to wait she lay in the sand as it slowly dried. By now her thirst was fierce and to compound matters the sun beat down on her nude body. Although her years of campaigning had left her with a healthy tan, she was still a typical redhead and she could soon feel the burning heat as the sun rose higher. It appeared that she might die of sunstroke long before the tide got to her.

"Well what have we here? This is an unexpected treasure."

The words startled her out of the stupor she had slipped into. Raising her head as far as she could she looked up into as brutal visage as she had ever laid eyes on. The man it belonged to was heavily bearded, and his coarse features were further marred by a vivid scar that ran from above his right eye across the bridge of his nose to his left cheek. Where the eye would have been was a black patch. He grinned at her through gapped teeth.

"A gift from the sea the like of which I have never seen," he continued. A few seconds later he was joined by two other men, both of whom proved equally appreciative.

"Ahh, she's a pretty one. A welcome addition I'm thinking once she's had a bit of rest and time to clean up." This speaker was smaller and younger than One-eye with a shaggy mane of blond hair. The third man was dark-skinned and very tall. A native of Kush, Sonja supposed. She had seen all of their like before in the war camps of a hundred mercenary bands and knew that she had probably jumped from one peril to another. She tried to speak, but the words caught in the dryness of her throat.

"Let's get the mast and rigging off her," One-eye suggested. Together the three men heaved it off, but Sonja found she was unable to move and to her further chagrin the blond and the Kushite had to lift her to her feet.

"By Mitra, she's wearing a weight of chain," One-eye commented. He regarded Sonja with a trace of suspicion. "Who ye be girl, to be chained so heavily?"

"Maybe we got someone of quality," the Blond-hair suggested. "Maybe some noblewoman or such."

"Not with hands like these," One-eye said, seizing Sonja's wrists and turning her hands palms up. "These be hands that have wielded a sword or some such. Give her some water so she might speak."

Even her brief time on her feet had Sonja swaying and she fell to her knees as a water skin was held to her lips. "Enough," One-eye said after three swallows. "Now who and what are ye, girl?"

"I am Red Sonja of Hyrkania," Sonja gasped. "Remove my chains."

"I have no knowledge of that name," One-eye said, "and I see no reason to free you. We will take you to Zul Darmon and he can decide what use to make of you."

Still too weak to stand Sonja was picked up and carried across the beach and into the thick vegetation bordering the beach. A narrow trail led deeper into the forest and she was carried quickly along it. Desperate for water, and battered and bruised from her ordeal in the Vilayet, she was barely conscious of where she was being taken. Nor after a while did she much care; she simply wanted it to end.

She was dimly aware of being carried up a steep incline and past several rocky outcrops and then suddenly she was inside at what she at first thought was a cave and then she realized that the surface beneath her consisted of finely cut paving stones. Raising her head as much as she could she saw that she was entering the ruins of an ancient fortress. She was half-carried half-marched across a cluttered courtyard past several other men attired similarly to her escort. There were also several women engaged in various domestic tasks such as carrying firewood, grinding grain, and tending stewpots. They regarded her with idle curiosity as she was marched past.

Not so the men. "What you got there, Juruk?" one of them called out. "Looks like the sea washed up something interesting."

"That's fer Zul to decide," One-eye or Juruk, as he was called, replied. "Maybe she'll end up on her back fer the rest of us or maybe he'll want her."

There were further comments, but the three men ignored them as they hauled Sonja up a flight of stairs and into the interior of what at one time must have been an impressive room. "Got something for ye, Zul," Juruk called as he entered.

Across the room a large man stirred from a pile of silk cushions he was sharing with two attractive young women. His race was difficult to determine. He might have been from Kitai as he had the exotic eyes typical of people of that region, but his skin was darker in complexion than most Kitaians and he was much taller; standing a head taller than even the Kushite who was part of Sonja's escort. He scowled at Juruk as he got to his feet. "Address me properly," he rumbled.

"Begging yer pardon, Zul Damon," Juruk replied, "but we've brought ye something we found on the beach."

"A woman," Zul observed, "and a fine looking one at that. But she seems somewhat battered. Have you touched her?"

"She was brought direct from the beach," Juruk answered. "Washed up by the sea. She'll be right in a day or two."

"Remove my chains," Sonja demanded once again, this time speaking to Zul. "I am no whore; I am as much a warrior as any of you. Give me a sword and I will prove myself."

"I see she is a bit of a spitfire," Zul chortled. "Don't worry woman, I will soon knock that out of you."

Before Sonja could reply Zul turned his attention to Juruk once more. "Put her in the pit. That should do for her until tomorrow. Make sure she is fed and watered."

Juruk nodded and jerked Sonja toward a doorway on the other side of the audience chamber. Still weak from her ordeal she made no effort to resist as she was led down a crumbling hallway and outside again to a courtyard featuring vine and moss-draped statuary. At its centre was a well, or what was left of one. As they approached she could see that it was now a dry hole in the ground and she knew what Zul had meant by the "pit."

"I'm not going there," she announced, attempting to twist away from Juruk's grip.

"Ye are, and ye can go into it peacefully or I'll throw ye down." Blond-hair took her other arm and between them they muscled her toward the edge of the well. It was about twenty feet deep and there was a crude ladder leading down to its bottom. "Climb down and save yerself a few bruises."

You will pay for this, Sonja vowed silently. But she descended the ladder into the well as her captors watched.

"Good girl," Juruk jeered as she reached the bottom. A few heartbeats ladder the ladder was pulled from the well, leaving her imprisoned. Her three escorts disappeared from view but Juruk reappeared a short time later. He lowered two buckets and a basket into the well and then pulled up the rope as Sonja detached each of them. One of the buckets contained water, and the other was empty. It was not difficult to guess what its purpose was. The basket contained bread and several ripe fruits.

With a sigh Sonja sat down. She was utterly exhausted, but she was also famished and parched. She quickly satisfied her hunger and thirst and then curling up on a pile of straw she fell into a deep sleep.

She was awakened by a sudden shower of cold water and looked up to see one of the camp women grinning down at her. "Time to get up, my beauty," she cackled through crooked teeth. "The king wants to see you." She lowered the ladder and waited while Sonja climbed out.

The king? Sonja wondered. Was that what the pirate chief was calling himself?

Sonja found that the food and the sleep had restored most of her strength. Although she was hampered by the heavy chain on her wrists she made it out of the well without difficulty. Reaching the top she found Juruk who seemed to have been appointed as her guard, along with two other men she had not met. They regarded her nude body with obvious prurient interest. "Zul's going to like you," one of them remarked, but before she went anywhere else the woman took Sonja's arm and directed her toward an archway in the wall and through it to what at one time had probably been an ornamental pond. Now it was being used as a laundry and bathing area. The two young women Sonja had seen lounging with Zul the day before regarded her coolly as she approached.

"Into the water with you," the older woman prompted. "King Zul will want you clean."

He might, Sonja thought, but I will be damned if he gets me. However, she made no effort to resist as she stepped into the pool, welcoming the chance to remove the sweat and salt from her skin. To her annoyance the woman got into the pool with her and proceeded to help wash and comb Sonja's tangled red tresses. She would have rather done that herself, even though the shackles on her wrists would have made it difficult. However, she suffered through it in silence, glad at least of the bath. However, she balked at the garments that were offered to her.

"I'm not wearing that," she stated, refusing the filmy silks held out to her. "I'm not some member of a harem. Give me clothes fit for a warrior."

"You are to serve the king," one of the concubines said, "and must be dressed appropriately."

"I serve only those I choose," Sonja retorted. "Give me a sword and proper gear and I will serve as a warrior. I am no man's whore."

"You are naked and chained," the other young woman pointed out. "I see only a red-headed whore."

"And I see a stupid slut who desires to spend the rest of her life without her front teeth," Sonja growled, heaving herself across the pool in the direction of the suddenly terrified girl. Fortunately for the latter she was saved by two events. The first was that she moved faster than she had ever moved in her life and the other was that Sonja's chain caught on a decorative statue on the side of the pool bringing her to a sudden halt. By the time she untangled herself the girl was long gone.

The commotion brought several men at a run, including Juruk who never seemed to be far out of sight. "Ye stupid bitch. Ye'll serve Zul on yer back just like every other woman." He moved toward her followed by several other men.

"If you won't give me a sword then I'll have to take one," Sonja cried. She met Juruk and the others halfway swinging the chain between her wrists like a flail. The first swing caught Juruk across the jaw and sent him spinning across the courtyard. The second swing took out the next two closest men; and then she had a sword, seized from the hand of one of the fallen. "I am Red Sonja of Hykania, the She Devil," she shouted, "and no one enslaves me."

She stood defiant, the sword held in both hands for easier use while the rest of the men who had rushed into the courtyard backed away from her. "She's a demon," one of them yelled. "Possessed by the devil."

"What is this?" a voice bellowed. Sonja turned to see Zul standing in the archway entrance, and he had not come alone. Behind him a dozen or more men pushed forward.

Sonja had faced such odds on dozens of previous occasions, but she had never gone out of her way to seek them out unless there was no other option. Naked, manacled, and armed with only a sword she chose discretion over valour. A fallen column leaning against the wall of the courtyard served as a natural ramp. She leaped onto it, ran to the top and jumped to the ground on the other side. She landed on a grassy sward, rolled forward to break her fall and headed for a line of trees a bowshot away. She was followed by shouts and a few arrows shot from the walls, none of which came close to hitting her and then she was among the trees.

She stopped for a moment to get her bearings and then spotted a path through the thick vegetation. She didn't have time to consider where it went she just took it as fast as her feet would allow. And that was another problem. Barefoot she was not going to last long running over rough ground. She had to find a place to hide until she could work out what to do next. Hearing no sound of immediate pursuit she slowed. Ahead of her the ground rose and she followed the path upward. She emerged through the trees at the top of a rocky outcrop. From the higher ground she could make out the ruins that were Zul's fortress. Strangely, she could see no signs of pursuit, but she expected it would soon materialize. It was time to move on and put as much distance between herself and any pursuit as possible.

With no better plan that to keep on moving away from her potential pursuers, she moved down the other side of the slope, reentered the forest and followed the winding path through the trees. It occurred to her that traveling down a well-worn path might not be the best way to go, but thick forest pressed in on her on either side and forcing her way through tangled vegetation seemed like a poor option so she continued to move down it. Eventually, she hoped, she would come to its end and she could plan further once that had happened.

Several hundred footsteps later she came to a cautious halt. There was something ahead of her that did not fit in with the thick forest. Slowly she edged forward and found herself on the edge of a clearing overlooking a primitive village of grass huts. It was inhabited by people just above the level of savagery. What little clothing most of the adults wore consisted of skirts woven from grasses or bark and the children wore nothing at all. A few of them wore kilts of cloth, indicating that they may have had contact with Zul's people. They were similarly armed, most of the warriors carrying stone-tipped spears or bows with arrows with sharpened wooden points. Here and there a spear with an iron point indicated further trade between the primitives and the pirates.

The question for Sonja was whether or not the primitives might be friendly or whether they would treat her as an enemy. She got that answer sooner than she would have liked.

She was suddenly aware of movement in the forest around her and realized that her stealthy approach had not been stealthy enough. She turned to flee the way she had come, but she was already too late. With a rush her unseen enemies materialized and she was given no chance to escape or even fight. A heavy net woven of the same bark fibres that served as clothing was thrown over her and she was borne to the ground. In short order her sword was pulled from her fingers and she was completely wound up in the net, which was then lifted to the shoulders of several of the ambushers and she was carried to the village. It had all happened so fast that Sonja did not even bother to struggle, knowing that she situation was hopeless.

She was carried to the centre of the village, her arrival greeted with raucous cries as the villagers crowded about her. Deposited next to a tripod straddling a fire-pit Sonja wondered what the villagers had in mind for her. It appeared at the moment that she might be the centerpiece in a special feast. The villagers formed a complete circle around her while she was extricated from the net. Grabbing the chain that secured her wrists they attached it to the tripod and hauled her into the air, lifting her with her arms over her head until she was suspended three feet off the ground. She watched in acute trepidation as several villagers piled bundles of wood beneath her and a woman moved up with a small pot containing hot coals. She felt no fear; only regret that her career was apparently coming to an agonizingly painful end as part of a cannibal feast.

At that moment another woman stepped forward. Like most of the villagers she was barely clothed, however she did wear a short kilt of woven cloth and on her head was a crown of feathers. She gestured toward the forest in the general direction from which Sonja had come and shouted to the other villagers. Immediately several of them shouted back and a general discussion ensued, with Sonja the apparent subject of that discussion.

It soon became clear that the argument was over whether Sonja should be eaten at once to satisfy her captors' bellies or used for a something longer term. The argument moved back and forth with some villagers supporting the woman and others taking the side of those who wanted to roast her alive.

Finally the woman walked over to one of the men holding an iron-tipped spear and pointed to its metal point. At the same time she held up a stone-tipped spear and compared them. So, Sonja thought, she wants to trade me for more iron. It's nice to know that I may be valued at more than just a meal. Whatever the case, the demonstration seemed to prove the woman's point. The woman with the firepot stepped back and a young boy was sent scurrying from the village. It was not hard for Sonja to figure out where he was going.

By Mitra, she thought, if I am traded back to the pirates I might well wish that I was eaten instead. But there was nothing she could do except hang by her shackles and wait to see what her fate might be. And that fate was long in coming. Hanging in the hot sun soon had her in considerable discomfort; discomfort which gradually grew to agonizing pain as the blood stained from her limbs. She tried to ease the situation a bit by swinging her body, but she could only keep that up for a short time and her efforts to restore her circulation left her so utterly exhausted that she was worse off than before. Eventually she hung limp, her body tortured with acute pain while she waited for her fate.

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It took until early evening for that fate to materialize. And it came in the form of Zul himself. Accompanied by twenty pirates he strode into the village and stopped just short of Sonja. "So," he said, "I see you didn't get far. You've greatly displeased me. Not only did you refuse the honour of properly serving me, but now I must pay in metal to get you back. I've a mind to leave you right where you are."

Hanging by her wrists for half the day had left Sonja exhausted, but it had not weakened her tongue. "I would probably prefer what these savages might do to me to your loathsome touch. Dare to treat me like a whore and you will come to regret it."

For a second Zul looked fit to spit, but slowly a smile cracked his brutal visage. "I'm going to break you," he said. "I'll have you crawling on your hands and knees to serve me." He turned to his men. "Give the savages their metal and cut her down."

Moments later Sonja lay in a heap on the ground. To her chagrin she could not move a muscle, only whimper in pain as two men heaved her to her feet and began to drag her toward Zul's fortress. He won't break me, she thought. He won't. But her defiance was tinged with fear. For the first time in her life Sonja began to wonder if her goddess had abandoned her.

Continued in Chapter 4

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