by Alessia Brio
I picked up the slave, still wrapped in my cloak, and carried her into the peasant's hut. One side of the roof had collapsed but the area near the hearth was dry. Kindling was still at the fireside and I soon had a fire going, a small blaze fighting its way into life in the hearth. The slave was shaking with cold and I quickly untied her hands and ankles, chafing her, trying to get the circulation going, towelling her roughly with my cloak. She soon had colour in her cheeks again and her trembling eased.
"Thank you, Master," she said. "A slave is grateful."
"Tend the fire, slave," I said. "We need warmth. Did you break your fast this morning?"
"No, Master."
"Foolish slave," I said.
"Yes, Master." She smiled, a soft curving of her lips. "Your slave had other things on her mind. She thought she was still a free woman."
I laughed. I had sa-tarna bread, and some cold roasted tarsk. No slave gruel, but there would be plenty of time for that later. I threw her some bread and meat. "Feed yourself, slave."
"Yes, Master, thank you, Master."
I stood and went to the entrance, looking out at the rain. I feared it would be late afternoon before it cleared enough for travel. I was lost in solitude when I became aware of her at my shoulder.
"Master is pensive," she said.
I smiled. "There is much to think about," I said. I looked at her, slender, naked, my cloak discarded, for I had not given her leave to wear it, her hair a tangle from the rain and the rough towelling. Beautiful. I wanted her.
"When does Master travel again?" she asked.
I gestured at the rain. "Not before late afternoon, I fear."
She indicated the fire. "If Master is to be warm, a slave must find more fuel." She indicated herself. "This slave is dressed for the weather," she said, a smile lurking at the corner of her mouth.
"Go then, slave, find more fuel," I said. I watched as she moved lithely into the rain. Intelligent, I thought, for she made straight for what was left of the peasant's fuel store, discarding the top layer of logs, bringing only drier fuel from the lower layer.
"Sufficient, I think," I said, after she had brought several armloads.
"I should re-cover the fuel," she said, "others may need it."
"Do so," I said. I moved to the fire and added fuel, sufficient to warm us, not so much as to overwhelm the hearth.
"Does Master have plans for the time he spends waiting?" the slave said softly, pausing near me as she returned.
I glanced at her, smiling. "Master does indeed have plans."
"Do his plans include a slave?"
"They do."
"A slave is grateful," she said, falling to her knees before me. "Your slave begs to serve you as slave, Master. She has only known your touch as a free woman pretending slavery."
"Do not fear, slave, you will be taken as the slave you are."
"Taken," she whispered, "I will be taken. The thought excites me, Master."
I regarded her. Kneeling, her knees spread, her hands on her thighs, open, palms up, the position of the pleasure slave. Her breathing had quickened, her nipples hardened, and I could smell the slave heat of her. I slowly removed the leather of the tarnsman, then my tunic.
"Loosen my sandals, slave," I said. "Do not use your fingers," I said, as she reached for me. Obediently, she began to loosen the sandal thongs using only her teeth. Loosened, I kicked off the heavy sandals, boots almost, and was naked before her.
"Master is beautiful," she breathed.
"Beautiful?" I laughed. "Surely not. Handsome, perhaps, although the face I see in a mirror is scarcely that."
"May a slave dispute?"
I gestured assent, amused.
"Master is indeed handsome, but only beautiful conveys the joy I feel on seeing him, as he is, naked, virile, wanting me. The beauty of the Master."
"Yes, slave, I want you. Spread straw before the fire, then spread my cloak. Recline on the cloak, on your back, arms above your head, left knee raised." There are many delightful positions a naked slave may adopt, but that is one of my favourites. I lay beside her, propped on my left arm, running my right the full, beautiful length of her. She smiled.
"Will Master take his slave vigorously?"
"I will take you as I choose, nameless slave."
"Yes, Master. Of course, Master." She did not seem unduly disturbed about how I would take her. I suspected that it was only the fact of the taking that concerned her. She was a slave, she would respond.
Her nipples were engorged, erect, and I stroked her breasts with my right hand, cupping them in turn, caressing the nipples. I bent to take one between my teeth and she gasped, moving into a moan as my bite turned to a suckling of her loveliness.
"Please, Master, have your slave," she said, entreaty in her tone. I moved over her and she flung her legs apart, ready. I pressed into her, sinking to her depths as her hips drove back at me. It was only a few strokes before she was trembling in ecstasy, crying herself mine. I stopped moving, deep within her, feeling her core pulse around my hardness, slowly quieting as her breathing slowed. She stretched up and kissed me. "I love you, Master," she whispered.
I smiled down at her as I began to move again. "No," I said as her hands reached for me, "hands above your head." She smiled up at me as I moved to take my weight on my outstretched arms, our only contact my hardness moving in her softness, in her wetness. She closed her eyes and I felt her begin to contract about me, rhythmic, timing her contractions to my strokes, her love juice audible to us as I moved within her. This time it was I who could not restrain myself and I cried my joy and mastery as I poured my seed into her, her own cries augmenting mine as she reached her own climax once more.
I wrapped the cloak around us and we dozed before the fire for a while, reaching out occasionally to replenish the fire, kissing, touching. Eventually, the slave stirred. "Will Master excuse his slave for a moment?"
"Why should I?"
"Perhaps a slave has drunk too much," she said.
I laughed. "Outside, perhaps," I said. "Do not tarry, slave."
She looked out and smiled at me. "It rains yet, Master. I will be swift." Her smile deepened. "I have another reason, too, for I have felt Master's returning might against me. A slave begs to be used yet again when she returns."
"So, hurry, slave," I said. She squealed as my open hand stung her bottom, running out, laughing. I was just putting another log on the fire when I heard her scream, terror in her voice. I seized my sword from where it lay with my belongings and rushed out, naked.
"Barus!" I cried. There was no mistaking the tarnsman who had taken Pel from the raiders' camp. The slave was struggling in his grip as I rushed out.
"Aye, Barus," he said, throwing the slave to one side. He gestured. "She did not stay free long." He sneered. "Why, was she hot?"
The slave was on her hands and knees in the wet grass, a trickle of blood at her mouth, her lip split where Barus had casually backhanded her as he threw her to one side. Barus's sword was in his hand now and he gestured to me to come to him.
"You are armed. Fight me for her."
"How did you find us."
"I knew what time you left. I have informers in Rorus. I knew too that you had the slave. I guessed you would land to try her out. Too, I knew there were not many places with sufficient privacy. This was only the third I checked."
"Why have you come after us?" I said.
"You cheated me out of much profit, warrior. Pel had not paid me, and the slave will bring a good price, now that you have warmed her for men." We were circling, cautious in the wet grass. Barus feinted and I guarded, but he did not follow through. I needed to test him, so left myself unguarded on my left as I, in my turn, feinted. That was almost my undoing, as he was fast, but I blocked him again. He grinned.
"Almost," he said.
I smiled, reversing my circling, moving in the opposite direction, trying to keep my back to the rain.
"It will do you no good," he sa
id. "You are naked, and I wear a tarnsman's leather. I can bear a wound more easily than you can."
"I am not wounded yet," I said.
He smiled again. "Yet," he said, and moved in quickly to attack me. Desperately, I defended myself, trying to keep the rain behind me, too, but his attack was strong. I knew that, in equal combat, I was probably his better, but this was no equal combat.
"You are free," I said, conversationally.
Barus frowned, puzzled for a moment, then his face cleared. "Ah, the slave. I shall of course re-enslave her as soon as you fall." He grinned. "You will not distract me that way."
"Perhaps," I said, feinting again. Perhaps I was overconfident, but his counter-attack was savage. Perhaps it was that, perhaps it was my lack of grip, barefoot in the wet grass, but I slipped and fell, my sword flying from my hand. He was on me immediately, his foot on my throat, his sword lifted to kill me.
He paused for a moment. "Die," he said. He should not have taken the time to say that, because his sword was still on the upward stroke when the spear-point erupted from his chest. The Lady Melna, formerly my unnamed slave, now free, although of only a woman's strength, nevertheless, at full speed, running, her full, if slight, weight behind it, had caused Barus's tarn spear to pass right through him. He stared at me, blood rushing from his mouth, trying to speak, and died on his feet. I scrambled to one side, the spear point just missing me as he fell almost on top of me.
Behind him, the Lady Melna, naked, white-faced, stared at me. I moved towards her and held out my arms. Sobbing, she rushed into my embrace.
"The Lady Melna is brave," I said.
"Your nameless slave."
"No, the free woman, Lady Melna of Rorus, to whom the warrior Han Lero of Ko-Ro-Ba owes his life, it is she who is brave. A slave may not touch weapons, on peril of death."
She stared at me, trembling. I bent to kiss her and suddenly we were clutching at each other, our lips mashing together. Whether I pushed her or whether she dragged me down we will never know, but in moments I was hard and pushing into her as she pushed back at me, the rain lashing down at us as we rutted in the wet grass, clutching at each other, frenzied, urgent, pure lust for each other carrying us on, on, to a shattering climax, I crying my triumph, she screaming her fulfilment.
The rain brought us back to reality, beating down on us, chilling our fevered bodies. I eased my shrinking self from her, and lifted her in my arms, carrying her back into the hut where the fire still burned, warming us. I dried her with my cloak, and then myself, wrapping us both in it and sitting before the fire with her in my arms. We sat in silence, the thoughts of each of us turbulent, I think.
"Do you no longer wish me slave, Han Lero," she said eventually, her voice hesitant.
"I freed you when I saw you reach for Barus's tarn spear," I said. "A slave is not permitted weapons."
"What is to be done with me, then?" she asked.
"Remember, this morning, when you asked me to take you with me?"
"Aye, I remember it well, for it was then I submitted myself slave," she whispered.
"Had you waited but a moment, you would have heard me say wait, for only a day or two, until I could obtain compartments suitable to share with the free woman, Lady Melna, would she consent to be my Companion." I hugged her, briefly.
"You want me as Companion?" she said, her tone that of wonder.
"Aye, Lady Melna of Rorus, if you will so consent."
"You said you would not take a Companion."
"That was before I knew I loved you."
"You could love me as slave."
"Aye, but were you slave you would not be treated as you deserve," I said. "My own love you have, whether free or slave. I but think of others. As my Companion, in my absence you would be treated with respect and courtesy; as my slave, no."
There was a long silence. She twisted around in my arms until she could face me, looking into my eyes, solemn. "If I accept you as Companion," she said, "there will be a condition."
"Condition?" I frowned. "What condition."
"That in the privacy of our compartment, the two of us alone, you treat me only as a slave, the way you have this day."
"That is your condition?" I said, smiling.
"Yes, it is. Do you accept?" Her own smile was tentative, broadening as she saw the agreement in my eyes. I kissed her gently.
"I accept."
"Then I, Lady Melna of Rorus, do hereby accept the warrior Han Lero, Captain, of Ko-Ro-Ba, as my Companion." She smiled, looking out at the rain. She turned to me, quizzical. "For the moment, this hut is our lodging, yes?"
"It is."
"Then may the Lady Melna perform as your slave, Master?"
"Yes, nameless slave."
It was next morning before we left the hut. After the Lady Melna and I had made love again, she performing as a heated and helpless slave, and superbly, I had stripped the gear from Barus's tarn and freed the beast. His cloak was thick, warm, and this I had given to Lady Melna. For the moment, her only garment. She had others, in her quarters in Lady Allina's holding, but for now we were bound for Ko-Ro-Ba, for the ceremony of Companionship. Barus's belongings included a pouch, with gold, which I added to my own. Too, there were notes of rendezvous, which I suspected might be with the raiders who had abducted Lady Allina and Lady Melna. Claudius Flavius would be glad to see those, I thought.
In the sunlight of a new day, I fastened the Lady Melna before me on the saddle of the tarn. Astride the tarn, this time, secured only to stop her falling and not as a slave, in Barus's cloak. As we flew we would, on occasion, exchange kisses, and she, the Lady Melna, no better than a heated slave, would invite my hand within the confines of the cloak, her only garment, to caress her.
We were a scant ahn short of arrival at Ko-Ro-Ba when I spotted a wagon on the track beneath us, a single wagon drawn by two draft tharlarion. I brought the tarn lower on an impulse, proving my belief true, for it was the wagon of a slaver, showing the blue and yellow colours on closer acquaintance, faded with the sun. I brought the tarn down a half pasang ahead, lifting the Lady Melna to the ground, hobbling the tarn. We waited until the wagon drew near. The slaver was cautious, stopping a little distance away. I walked towards him, drawing my sword. I stopped ten paces away, laying my sword on the ground and stepping clear of it. He put down his crossbow and beckoned me closer.
"Stay with my sword," I said to the Lady Melna. I approached the slaver.
"Tal, Rarius," he said, looking beyond me at Lady Melna, wrapped in the cloak. "You have a slave to sell?"
"No," I said, laughing. "Have you any garments befitting a free woman?"
The slaver, a cheerful looking fellow, cocked his head on one side. "You are serious?"
I nodded. "Aye."
He laughed. "I am a slaver. What do I want with the garments of a free woman?" I waited, a pleasant smile on my face. He shook his head. "Tuka?" he called over his shoulder.
"Master?" came a woman's voice.
"Bring out that bundle of free women's clothes."
"Master?"
"You heard me, Tuka. Must an order be repeated?"
"No, Master," said the voice, but there was none of the fear in it that I would expect from a disobedient slave. I suspected a long and comfortable relationship between them. A blonde slave, short, curvy, dropped lightly from the back of the wagon with a bundle of clothing in her arms. She came to the front, saw me, and went easily to her knees. "Master."
"Slave," I acknowledged.
"The clothing of a free woman, Master."
"Thank you." I beckoned to Lady Melna. She picked up my sword and came towards me. The slaver and his little blonde exchanged glances. I think they had thought I brought a slave, face-stripped as she was, but no slave would dare to pick up a sword. I took the sword from her and sheathed it. I gestured. "Clothing. Get what you need to enter Ko-Ro-Ba. Behind the wagon," I suggested. "With your permission, slaver?"
"Of course, warrior. Lep Toll lives only
to serve." He winked.
"Does Mistress require assistance?" said Tuka.
"No," said Lady Melna, "but you may assist me anyway, thus satisfying your curiosity as to whether or not I am free, face-stripped as I am, and wearing only this cloak, whose former owner I slew."
The slaver and his blond slave exchanged glances, then looked at me. I nodded. "With his own tarn spear," I said gravely.
"With Mistress's permission, I shall remain here," said Tuka, nervous.
Lady Melna smiled and took the bundle of clothing. She was gone but a few ehn, returning in a dusty green robe, which I think she chose because of her hair, hooded, with a light veil. She wore, too, Barus's cloak. The robe did not have the usual bulk, and I suspected her undergarments to be few, if any. She had found, too, some light slippers, so was no longer barefoot. She dropped the bundle of clothing next to Tuka. "My thanks," she said.
"Mistress."
I reached into my pouch and threw the slaver a silver tarsk. "My thanks, warrior," he said, grinning.
Some two ahn later I landed the tarn at my father's tarncot. Linus, the keeper, grinned to see me. "Welcome home, Captain." He bowed to Lady Melna, curious. "My lady."
"Linus," I said, "this is the Lady Melna of Rorus. I would like you to seek out a tarn for her, at my expense."
Linus nodded, surprised, regarding Lady Melna. "Do not doubt her courage, Linus," I said. "A tarn of strength and vigour."
"You plan to teach Lady Melna the tarn, Captain?"
"I do." Unusual, yes, but not completely unknown. Barus's gold would pay for it.