‘I think better not…’ Kaulak began, only to be cut off by Talithea’s yelp of furious indignation.
‘How dare you touch me!?’ the Princess yelled as Elethrine turned and opened her eyes.
Talithea had stood up and pulled the blankets around herself, leaving Elethrine and Aisla completely nude. Stung with shame, both of them instinctively covered their tuppennies and breasts, an action that evoked almost as much astonishment in the onlookers as had Talithea’s words.
‘These are no nymphs!’ the officer exclaimed, finally recovering his senses. ‘What is the explanation of this!?’
Kaulak acted promptly, driving his fist into the officer’s face and leaping for the gunwale. An instant later he was gone, followed by Mausac and Ulak, all three diving deep into the water to avoid the crossbow bolts of the tithe collectors. Elethrine sat still, doing her best to cover her modesty as men clustered around the cage.
‘Exotic slaves is my guess,’ the ship master said ingratiatingly. ‘Believe me, Officer Sarak, I had no idea of their true nature.’
‘I accept your plea,’ the tithing officer replied, ‘so long as you wave all claim to them.’
‘I accept,’ the ship master replied grudgingly. ‘What then will you do with them?’
‘They are now the property of the Imperial exchequer,’ Sarak replied pompously. ‘Regulation demands that they be taken to Vendjome and sold, their price to go towards our operating costs. Less commission for the capturing officer, of course.’
‘Sold!’ Talithea exclaimed. ‘Enough of this nonsense! I am Talithea Mund, Princess and no slave! Free us on the instant!’
‘This one has spirit,’ Sarak laughed. ‘It will augment her price, despite her fat bottom.’
Talithea lashed out, her nails coming within an inch of Sarak’s face. Elethrine stood, mustering her courage with a prayer to her parents and earlier ancestors. Presenting her bare chest to one of the guards beyond the bars, she swallowed and then spoke in a steady voice.
‘I chose death other slavery. Slay me cleanly.’
‘I also,’ Talithea added, quickly composing herself.
‘What, and lose my commission?’ Sarak exclaimed. ‘Do you take me for an idiot?’
‘I demand death,’ Elethrine said haughtily. ‘You shall never make me a slave.’
Sarak ignored her, instead detailing his subordinates to tie the three girls and bring them onto the tithe vessel. Elethrine did her best to fight and managed a few telling scratches before they overpowered her. Her hands were lashed in the small of her back, her legs were fastened together and a gag was thrust into her mouth, leaving her helpless and speechless. As she was lifted over the shoulder of one of the biggest guards she saw that Talithea had suffered the same fate, although none of the three men holding her was without bruises. Aisla though was locked in a wrestling grip with a squat guard. Elethrine felt a flush of pride at her maid’s strength, but it was quickly extinguished as two more guards grabbed the struggling girl’s arms and pinned her to the floor of the cage.
Soon they had been transferred to the tithe vessel and in turn to a fast river boat, which set off to the south under the command of Sarak. Numb with the magnitude of the disaster that had overtaken her, Elethrine could only lie on the floor of the cage, thinking in horror of the ultimate indignity that was slavery.
Two days later they came in sight of Vendjome. The capital was larger by far than any city Elethrine had seen before and straddled the vast Ephraxis as if it were a mere stream. The bright colours that characterised the Vendjomois taste were everywhere, houses tiled in turquoise and viridian, temples with domes of gold and silver inlay on vermilion tiles, shops with awnings of brilliant silk, and above all, a vast palace built of pink marble.
Elethrine took in the magnificent site with a single miserable glance. They were to be sold as slaves, a fate too ignominious to think about. She was also still naked, without even a blanket to cover herself. The sole consolation was that she had been certified maiden, and that while Sarak and the other tithemen had taken every opportunity to indulge themselves with Talithea and Aisla, she had suffered nothing worse than sucking the men’s cocks hard in preparation for her friend’s vaginas.
Talithea and Aisla had been kept bound and entered in kneeling positions, their muffled protests quickly giving way to moans of pleasure as their tuppennies were filled with penis after penis. Elethrine had watched, as before torn between relief that she was not being served the same way and jealously for the girl’s obvious ecstasy.
Finally they docked at a quay of white marble and the cage was transported to a great circular building which Sarak referred to as the Pelucidome. This proved to be open in the middle and lined with cages, into one of which the three girls were pushed before being untied.
Chapter Five - Captive
For two days the girls were kept in the Pelucidome, allowed to sleep on rush mats in the rear cubicle by night but chivvied out for the inspection of potential clients by day. Elethrine found being caged deeply humiliating, although it was a fate she had always known might be hers if she were for any reason taken captive. When wars between the cities and fiefs of Mund and Aegmund had been common, captive girls would by tradition be displayed in wooden cages until ransomed or publicly shamed if no ransom was forthcoming. The higher born the girl the more prominent her display would be, and Elethrine had never been able to so much as think about the possibility without an inner shudder.
Yet as the daughter of a baron her display would have been a major spectacle and a great triumph for the victors. In the Pelucidome she was merely one more girl for sale, and treated no differently from any other. Indeed, from the aroma of their cubicle it seemed likely that previous occupants had been not human girls at all, nor even nymphs, but sheep or goats; a suspicion reinforced by the presence of a dozen large, black pigs in the pen next to their own. On the other side was a group of female nymphs, slight, brown skinned creatures with huge, bright eyes and great bushes of crinkly black hair. These would chitter and laugh, striking lewd poses in return for sweets and fruit from the people who came to inspect them, a display which disturbed Elethrine deeply.
Elethrine, Talithea and Aisla did their best to remain poised and aloof, spending their time sitting cross-legged on the floor with their long skirts arranged to show not so much as an ankle. They were grateful for the return of their clothing, although they had overheard an overseer explain that it had not been done from a sense of decency but in order to tantalise potential customers and so push their eventual price up.
The interior of the Pelucidome was crowded, even at night when it was lit with a ring of rush torches. Despite the presence of several other groups of girls in the pens the three of them received much the greatest attention and there were usually a good number of curious Vendjomois citizens peering in through the bars with expressions of lustful fascination. Few spoke directly to them, but marvelled at the colour of their hair and speculated on their bodies, notably how their breasts, bottoms and pubic areas would look naked. Many times attempts were made to goad, tease or bribe them into stripping but none succeeded.
On the evening of the second day Elethrine was sitting with the others, pointedly ignoring the attempts of a corpulent man in a turquoise silk robe to get them to display their bottoms. A commotion at the high doors that led into the Pelucidome attracted her attention and she looked up to see a dray entering. The superstructure was a cage, making it not unlike the cart in which they had been pulled through Gora-Jome. A group of female nymphs clung to the bars, chattering with excitement at the crowds and pressing themselves against the bars in the hope of caresses to their golden-brown skin. Two mules drew the dray, and as Elethrine watched a man stepped from behind them, Ayapan the merchant.
Immediately she was at the bars, calling to him, wildly hopeful that he might secure their release or that Karogan and his warriors might be on hand to attempt a rescue. Ayapan looked over, saw them and began to saunter over, h
is expression showing no great surprise.
‘Ah, I had heard that three northern girls were up for sale,’ he said as he approached, ‘and I had suspected it would be you. Evidently Kaulak failed to see you past the Gora-Jome tithe point.’
‘He tried his best,’ Elethrine answered, throwing Talithea a dirty look, ‘but now we are safe once more, for surely you have come to release us?’
‘Release you?’ Ayapan answered, both astonished and amused. ‘Far from it, I have come to buy you, should my purse stretch so far.’
‘Buy us!’ all three girls spoke together.
‘Absolutely,’ Ayapan continued, ‘you are most valuable merchandise and will fetch a great price, so high indeed that I could not hope to make a profit, save perhaps in Oretes, and that unlikely. Yet you have other uses, for, let us say, a long term investment. As to releasing you, I am but a merchant, half-dwarven and of Ythan at that. How do you expect me to perform such a task?’
‘Is not Karogan with you?’ Aisla asked hopefully.
‘He and his fellows are drinking in a tavern,’ Ayapan replied, ‘and even they, veteran warriors though they be, could not bring you clear of Vendjome. Besides, why should they?’
The girls stayed silent, realising the truth of Ayapan’s argument.
‘And now I intend to join them, once my nymphs are secure,’ he said. ‘You will excuse me ladies, until the auction.’
He gave a low, mocking bow and left, Elethrine watching his globular figure as he walked away to remonstrate with a handler who had allowed one of the nymphs to mount herself on his penis. The girls sat back down, exchanging glum glances.
The following day dawned with the sky above the glass roof of the Pelucidome the unbroken expanse of blue that the girls had come to recognise as typical of Vendjome. The atmosphere around them, however, had changed. There were no casual onlookers, but only market officials and handlers, each busy about complex arrangements that were clearly a precursor to the auction.
‘It is to be today then,’ Aisla spoke sadly.
‘Be proud and show only contempt,’ Elethrine replied with a good deal more strength than she felt. ‘Slavery is a state of the mind and you will be free so long as your mind stays so.’
‘Better to die honourably,’ Talithea put in. ‘Perhaps we could seize a sword from a guard and force them to slay us in fair combat.’
‘They would catch us in nets,’ Elethrine objected, ‘as they did the bull-nymph who ran amok the first day we were here. No, have patience and we shall see Mund once more.’
Talithea started to reply but went quiet at the approach of an official. His scarlet robe and gold Pelucidome emblem showed him to be among the most senior, while his grey hair and sparse frame gave him an air of stern respectability. Elethrine turned to face him.
‘I am Crizac, master auctioneer,’ he announced as he reached the bars. ‘Today I will be presiding over your sale and it is well that we understand one another in order that the best price may be obtained.’
‘You may expect no co-operation from us,’ Elethrine replied coldly.
‘Indeed, how dare you ask it!’ Talithea suddenly stormed, abandoning her intention of remaining calm and dignified. ‘You capture us, tie us, cage us and tell us we are to be slaves and then you expect our help in maximising our price!’
‘You would do best to accept your new status as slaves,’ Crizac continued calmly. ‘New slaves are often rebellious, but soon learn to respect the whip.’
‘Not I! Never!’ Talithea stormed.
‘You will soon be putting your face meekly to the earth and humbly begging your master’s touch,’ Crizac replied. ‘Meanwhile…’
He stopped abruptly to dodge as Talithea hurled an earthenware water jug at him. It shattered on the bars, showering him with fragments of pottery but doing no real harm.
‘Be calm,’ he said sternly and made a mark on the clay tablet in his hand, ‘and listen well. You may hope to achieve your best prices from Izatak, the imperial purchase agent, who may be identified by a white robe bordered in purple. You would do well to impress him, as should you succeed you will become girls in the seraglio of the Panjandrum, a great honour for three uncouth barbar girls.’
Elethrine gave him her coldest look, which had no effect whatever.
‘So,’ Crizac continued, ‘when you are ordered to strip, give him your full attention, expose your breasts for him, hold open the cheeks of your bottoms towards him…’
‘Never!’ Elethrine exclaimed, Talithea and even Aisla also adding angry refusals.
‘You would do well to heed my words,’ Crizac went on. ‘As I was saying, a good, open, yielding display of your sexes is essential, in particular your anal apertures, for which the Panjandrum has an especial taste.’
‘Disgusting!’ Talithea sneered.
‘He is clearly depraved,’ Elethrine added. ‘I shall never adopt such lewd poses.’
‘Should you not,’ Crizac said dryly, ‘it is likely that Izatak may limit his bids, in which case you may be purchased by other members of the Imperial family, wealthy merchants or senior officials. More likely, should you appear sexually cold, you will be brought by priests and I should here remark that no less than five temples have expressed the opinion that you would make fine sacrifices for the coming solstice.’
‘Then let us die on their altars,’ Talithea declared. ‘We shall never pose and flaunt ourselves as you suggest.’
‘Oh you will, you will,’ Crizac replied, made another mark on his tablet and walked on the inspect the pigs in the next cage.
Elethrine stayed silent, comparing the prospect of making an unspeakably lewd display of herself with that of being sacrificed to one of the strange Vendjomois gods. Honour, she knew, demanded the choice of sacrifice, yet it was a poor way to die, suggesting submission to the will of an alien deity. Alone, she might have taken the other option, displaying herself before the crowds in the knowledge that no rumour of her wanton behaviour would ever reach home. In front of Aisla and Talithea it was simply unthinkable, not so much because of the shame of stripping and posing but because to do it would be an admission that she was slave. Reaching a sudden decision, she turned to Talithea and Aisla.
‘Princess,’ she began, addressing Talithea formally, ‘I was wrong to advise patience. Let us make a stand here and hope for a death of sufficient honour to buy us our places in the feast hall of heroines.’
‘It is the only choice,’ Talithea answered, Aisla nodding her acquiescence without hesitation.
They waited in silence as the auction was prepared. The centre of the Pelucidome contained only fences and other apparatus for controlling the stock, including a selection of whips. The auction itself was clearly to be held in the square outside, as a wooden platform had been erected across the door with a ramp leading up to it from the interior of the Pelucidome. Presently a junior official appeared to inform them that they were the last three lots and to attach red cards bearing numbers to the bars of their cage.
‘We are to be auctioned separately then?’ Elethrine asked in dismay.
‘Thus the best price will be secured,’ the official remark.
‘Who then is to be first?’ Talithea enquired.
‘You are second last,’ he answered, ‘the golden haired one before you and the copper haired one last. Thus the finest and so most precious will come at the end.’
He walked away, leaving Elethrine with a sharp pang of emotion. To be sold on the block was bad enough, but to be valued at less than her maid was mortifying.
The auction began, lot after lot being taken to the platform. The livestock went first, mainly pigs, goats and mandrills, in which ape-like creatures the Vendjomois seemed to take an especial pleasure. The nymphs followed, first the bulls, and then the exquisitely beautiful females, which giggled, tittered and struck lewd poses as they were led to the platform. Finally came the human slaves, mainly pretty girls with olive complexions and richly curled black hair who Elethrine guess
ed to be Oreteans. Finally her own turn came and she braced herself for a final struggle and death in front of the crowds of Vendjome city.
Handlers approached, burly men of heavy physique and evident experience. Using nets and spears, they separated Elethrine from the others. She was stripped, rapidly and efficiently, such fastenings as they were unable to fathom out being torn or cut. Cursing herself for having revealed her intention not to strip to order, she allowed her beautiful clothes to the removed, reasoning that it was best to preserve her strength for a final, supreme effort.
To her further chagrin cuffs and close chains were attached to her wrists and ankles. Her hands were then placed behind her back and linked together. A linking chain was led from her wrist chain to that which joined her ankles. Helpless, she could only walk forward with small, precise steps. Fight was going to be near impossible, yet she determined to acquit herself as honourably as she might. She tilted her chin up, determined to show courage to the others and only disdain for her captors. As she reached the ramp the roar of the crowd struck her like a palpable thing, then doubled in volume as she stepped into the open air.
In front of her was a sea of faces, the whole great square of the city being thronged with people, thousands upon thousands and more than she had ever before seen assembled in one place. Every one was looking at her, gazing on her naked body, calling remarks on the colour of her skin and hair, the shape and size of her breasts and hips, the length of her legs, the firmness of her belly and the look of the triangle of golden down that hid her tuppenny. Both anger and shame filled her, emotions so strong that the tears threatened to start in her eyes. Swallowing hard, she took the final step onto the platform and braced herself.
A spear point jabbed the soft flesh of her flank, distracting her for a moment. Then she heard she click of a lock and turned to see that she had been fixed to pillar. Barely able to move her hands and feet and chained firmly in place, she resigned herself to the indignity of being sold naked, taking consolation only in the knowledge that they had not managed to make her acknowledge her own slavery.
Maiden Page 10