by Lara Nance
Chapter 11
Rett’s eyes burned with fatigue but his focus remained intent on the distant lights of the train ahead of them. He’d convinced Benji and Jasper to get some sleep once they located the northbound train, knowing it would be hours before it reached its destination. Sam sat slumped over in a chair on the deck, exhausted after his last stoking of the engine.
Sam had offered to take a shift at the wheel to relieve him, but Rett knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He was too keyed up with concern over Belle’s situation. He wasn’t so much worried about Belle’s well being. He knew she would be treated as a valuable commodity. The big worry was what they would do once they reached Faldoral. His mind went round and round but he couldn’t come up with any semblance of a plan to rescue her. Once she was secreted away in the pasha’s harem, there was very little chance of them ever seeing her again.
The sun edged over the horizon to his right and he could just make out the ridge of mountains ahead. He knew Faldoral rested at the foot of those mountains beside a large lake. Only another hour and the train would be stopping. He had to come up with a plan.
“Morning, mate.” Sam rubbed his eyes and climbed the stairs to the pilot station. “There yet?”
Rett jerked his jaw up indicating the line of mountains.
“I’ll make some coffee,” Sam said heading back down to the gondola.
He soon returned with two steaming mugs and handed one to Rett. “So what’s the plan?”
Rett gave him a harsh glare.
“Ah, so no plan.” Sam shook his head. “I thought so.”
“I’ve never even been to Faldoral. What the hell are we going to do?” Rett muttered.
Sam took a gulp of coffee and leaned against the rail of the aftcastle. “Well, she won’t be taken to the palace straight away. This trader must have a place here to take his slaves. He’ll want them all fixed up before the pasha sees them. If we can find that place maybe we can sneak in and let her out.”
Rett’s eyebrows went up. Why didn’t he think of that?
“Okay, so we need to stay in the air and see where they’re transported to and then we need a place to land so we can go back into the city. We’ll have to come up with a way to grab her if she’s transferred.”
Sam nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Are we there?” Benji emerged from the gondola and looked up at Rett, his gaze full of hope. Jasper followed, his thin features pinched in worry.
“Almost.” Rett pointed ahead. “We need to keep an eye on that train. When it stops we’ll find out where they’re taking Belle.”
Benji ran to the side rail and looked over. The train was well ahead of them but they wouldn’t lose sight of it.
Below, the outskirts of Faldoral showed small farms and windmills. It was like Urbannia a hundred years ago. They could see the lake now and large villas that curved around the northern shore with the mountains as a dramatic back drop. The city itself could not compare in size to Harruca and it spread from the houses up to the foot of the hills. Set like a jewel in the side of the largest mountain, a white stone palace nestled with numerous spires and turrets poking up to the heavens.
There were only a half dozen other airships in the air around the city. Rett didn’t know if they even had an aeroport. But it didn’t matter; they wouldn’t dock there if they had one. He’d find a hill to hide behind and set Gambit down there until they could locate Belle.
“All right, mates, here we go.” Ahead, the train stopped at a small station. There were two covered wagons waiting with six large men circling around them. “Keep your eye on those wagons. I bet that’s how they’ll get Belle to where ever they’re taking her.”
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Two of the mensabs grabbed Belle’s arms in rough grips after she punched the slave trader in the nose. He fell over backwards and sprawled on the floor with a hand over his face as blood poured out of his nostrils. One mensab pulled a dagger from his sash and held it to her throat. Belle sucked in a gasp.
“No!” The pasha put up a hand and the knife slowly lowered.
The commotion woke most of the girls and they whispered, holding onto each other. Armani rushed forward but stopped in her tracks as a mensab pointed a sword at her chest.
“Unhand her,” the pasha ordered.
The mensabs reluctantly released Belle’s arms and she allowed the breath she had been holding to escape her lips. She’d acted on instinct, furious at the man who had offered her help and then drugged her along with all the other women in the room—a man who traded women like livestock. Despicable!
She glanced at the pasha, surprised he had intervened. His expression did not reveal his emotions but his eyes focused on her intently. He took a step forward and his gazed ran from her head to her toes and back again. He stood an inch or two taller than her, which gave him an imposing presence. Then a slow smile curled his lips.
“Yes, she is truly magnificent. Like a lioness.” He glanced down at the man on the floor. “I’ll give you five thousand in gold.”
Rafi sputtered and used his sash to wipe the blood from his nose. He scrambled to his feet and glared at Belle. “But your highness, such a rare beauty is worth more than ten thousand in gold.”
The pasha looked at him with a hint of contempt. He took a step back so Rafi’s blood would not soil his robes. “Very well, ten thousand,” he said as if it was nothing. He turned to Belle and motioned with one hand. “Come.”
“No,” Belle said, clenching her fists. She would fight every inch of the way if needed, but she would not willingly become some man’s property.
The pasha turned back to her and his eyes narrowed. Then he studied her with his head tilted to one side for a moment. “Your name is Arabella, I am told.”
She shifted on her feet, ready.
He moved toward her and unfastened the velvet cloak he wore over his robes. He draped it around her bare shoulders. “Arabella, I would like to speak with you. Rafi will allow us the use of a room where we may talk. You may come of your own accord or I can have the mensabs carry you there. It is your choice.”
He stepped back and held out a hand.
She looked around. The bald headed mensabs looked like they would enjoy the opportunity to carry her out.
“I’ll come quietly on one condition,” she said, hoping her ploy would work.
The pasha smiled, amused. “And what is that?”
“That she can come with me where ever I go.” She pointed back to Armani whose eyes were wide and her face pale. “And I want my old clothes.”
For a moment nothing happened and Belle’s heart sank. Then the pasha laughed. “Very well. Bring her. Ten thousand should cover them both.” He motioned to the girl from Gandiss, and then held out a hand to Belle again.
She hurried over to the chaise where she had dropped her clothes with her precious pocket watch and bundled up the skewer as well. She returned to the pasha, reached out and took his hand. It was warm and strong with calluses along the fingertips. This was not a man of idle leisure. She walked at his side, one hand grasping the bundle of clothes close to the cloak.
He led her to a room dimly lit with candles, some type of sitting room with lush rugs and plump cushions among scattered tables. Fur pelts draped here and there and Belle wished she could snuggle into one. The outside chill invaded the room and the towel wrapped around her was damp.
“Please, sit.” The pasha led her to a round hassock and released her hand. He pointed to a chair at the end of the room. The mensabs took Armani there and with a flick of the pasha’s hand they left the room, closing the double wooden doors behind them.
He sat on a hassock beside her, so close she could feel the heat from his body. He reached out without moving his eyes and took a fur then placed it around her shoulders.
“Better?”
She nodded, trying to figure out his angle. Did he think if he was nice to her she would do whatever he wanted? If so, he would be very surprised at her
response.
The table beside them held a pitcher and golden goblets. The pasha lifted the pitcher and poured red wine into the goblets, then handed one to her.
“You’ll excuse me if I pass on the wine. The last time I accepted a beverage from a stranger it was drugged,” she said.
The pasha smiled, lifted his goblet and took a drink to allay her suspicions. “It’s not drugged. I won’t lie to you.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“I am Pasha Arian. Everything within a hundred miles of this place is mine. I have no reason to lie.”
“I see your point.” She raised the cup and took a sip.
He grinned at her compliance. “Excellent. Now, as I said, I wish to talk with you.”
Belle nodded, eyeing him warily.
“I want you to know I am not ignorant of your ways. I received my education at the University of Aereopolis.”
“Then you know that slavery is a vile practice.”
The pasha gave a small laugh and stood. He paced around her. “You are very naive. Slavery is a necessary evil in this part of the world. Most of those girls in there would have been dead in a few years from starvation. Those that survived would either be forced into prostitution or married to husbands who beat them. I offer them a life of luxury with no responsibility but to make me happy.”
“But no freedom.”
“Freedom is relative here.”
“I don’t think a debate about the merits of slavery is going to get us anywhere.”
“True. But I wanted you to know I understand your mindset so that when I make my offer to you it is with the understanding that I am not ignorant of western ways.”
“An offer?”
He paced a moment then returned to the hassock. Leaning close, he reached out and ran a finger along the line of her jaw. “You are very beautiful, and you have spirit. You are the type of woman I would have sons with—sons that would be tall and strong as well as intelligent. I need such sons to rule the region after I am gone. These sons might even go on to rule all of Pandistan one day. Pandistan is a brutal place. We pashas fight each other constantly without mercy, hoping to take more territory and wealth. The weak perish here, but your sons would not be weak.” His voice low, soft and enticing aimed to seduce her.
Belle blinked and her heart fluttered. She hadn’t expected this.
“But I will not have my sons with a slave or a woman who does not return my regard. However I am not willing to release you in any event. So you have a choice. You can stay with me as my guest and accept my courtship. After a suitable time, I will make you one of my wives and you will bear me sons.”
“Or?” Belle watched the flicker of firelight in his serious dark eyes.
“Or you can be a concubine with no sons, and as you say, no freedom. Either way I will have you. But I believe an intelligent woman like you can see the advantages my first offer bears.”
“Why would you make such an offer?”
He smiled and ran a hand behind her neck, stroking the soft skin there. “I seek the advantages of having you come willingly to my bed. I am no fool. Your acceptance of the situation would make life very pleasant for both of us. Think about it. I am a handsome man, no? You could do much worse.”
“But I don’t love you.”
“You could come to love me in time I am sure. I am not without knowledge of how to please a woman.” He moved closer and their lips were inches apart. His breath blew warm on her face and his fingers continued to massage the contours of her neck. He whispered, “Say, yes, and the world will be at your feet.”
He leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers and then surprisingly, he slid from the hassock to the floor, unconscious. Belle looked up, dazed to find Armani smiling at her, a wooden statue raised over her head.
Belle’s eyes went wide and then she grinned. “Good job.”
She quickly put on her clothes, thankful she hadn’t had to jab the skewer into the pasha who was rather likeable in his own barbaric sort of way. The warmth of his kiss lingered on her lips. She brushed the back of her hand across her mouth and handed the cloak to Armani, then hurried over to the window.
“What do we do now?” Armani whispered. “If they find out we attacked the pasha they will kill us.”
There were thick glass panels in the windows. Damn it, they were locked. She cursed a lot more under her breath and used the skewer to try and pick the lock. Fortunately it wasn’t very intricate and after only a little jabbing, it popped undone. She pushed the panel out and found it opened on a path that led to a garden behind the house. First, she helped Armani and then swung her legs over the sill and slid down to the ground.
Outside, the cold hit them in a chilling blast and Armani wrapped the pasha’s cloak tightly around her scantily clad form. Belle almost went back for some furs but decided they needed to get as far away from the house as possible before the pasha regained consciousness.
They pushed through a line of shrubbery and ran down the dirt road on the other side. Far to their right loomed another large dwelling, but just ahead Belle saw activity that meant they were probably nearing the city. Her heart pounded in her chest as she frantically tried to think of what they should do. How in the world were they going to get out of here? She had to get back to Harruca, to Gambit and her friends. But that seemed an impossible task in the midst of this danger.
“We need a place to hide,” Belle said, unable to stop the sinking dizziness of despair that grew in her head as realization of their isolation overwhelmed her.
“There,” Armani said pointing down the road to a large building that appeared to be a livery stable.
Belle shook off her anguish and they ran to the side of the building. In front, people with horses came and went. The clang of a blacksmith’s hammer on an anvil rang repeatedly in the air.
She motioned with one hand and they crept around the back of the building. There a huge pile of loose hay mounded beside a large stack of hay bales. Above their heads, a rope and pulley dangled from a wide door on the second floor, no doubt used to lift bales up to the loft for storage.
Loud shouting erupted from the direction of the house they had escaped and Armani grabbed her arm. “We have to hide.”
“We can burrow in the hay and after they stop hunting us we can climb that rope into the barn. At least it will be warmer in there.” Belle plunged her hands in the loose hay and began to dig. “Hurry.”
Armani joined her and soon they had two spaces they could fit into. They raked the hay in behind them just as the sound of galloping hooves approached. Men shouted words she couldn’t make out, but Belle knew they were searching for them. Armani shivered beside her, likely from fear as well as cold. She put an arm around the girl and pulled her close.
Shouting and the clanking of weapons passed by along with the clop of horses’ hooves. The hay itched every part of Belle’s body and made her want to sneeze but she suppressed those impulses out of sheer terror. She was horrified they would be discovered and didn’t dare speak or move even though she wanted to comfort the shaking girl. So she repeated words in her head as a talisman. We’re going to be okay, we’re going to be okay.
They sat in their hay nest for what seemed like hours, afraid to move even though the sounds of pursuit had long passed. It appeared to be darker although they couldn’t really see out from inside the mound of hay.
“Belle,” Armani whispered, teeth chattering. “I’m freezing.”
They had to make a move sooner or later, and with night coming it would only become colder. “Okay, I’m going to see if anyone is close by.”
She slowly pushed a hand through the hay until she had a hole big enough to see out. Nothing appeared immediately across from them so she widened the hole. Cold air rushed in making Armani shiver more, but the street appeared to be empty.
“Let’s try it. We have to move. Okay?”
“Okay.” Armani pushed out with her hands along with Belle and they made a
large enough opening to see up and down the street.
Belle started to poke her head out when footsteps approached along with men’s voices. She drew back and tried to pull some hay down.
“I’m certain the house is along this road. It’s big and white, we can’t miss it,” a familiar voice said.
Belle frowned and then a burst of joy surged through her. “Rett?”
“What?” his puzzled voice answered.
She poked her head out just as Rett and Sam strode past the mound. They spun around when they heard her voice. “Psst. Rett. Sam.”
“Belle?”
“Rett, what are you doing here?” She struggled to push the hay away from her. Gray shadows played across the ground in the gathering dusk and the busy sounds of the stable had ceased while they waited.
“Damn it, Belle,” Rett said marching toward the mound. He grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the hay. “I knew you were going to cause me a lot of trouble. I told you to stick with us in that market.”
“It’s not like I planned to to be kidnapped,” Belle snapped as she jerked her arm from his grasp and brushed away the wisps of hay sticking to her clothes and in her hair. “Someone hit me over the head. But I don’t understand how you found me.”
“Trust me, it’s a long story. How did you get away from the slave trader?”
“I had help. This is Armani,” she said assisting the younger woman out of the hay. “If it wasn’t for her we’d still be captives.”
“Another one of your strays, Belle?” Rett gave the young woman a cursory glance. “I suppose she’s coming with us?”
“Yes, and we’d better get out of here before they discover where we hid. Where’s Benji and Jasper?”
“They’re back at Gambit.” He jabbed a thumb behind him.
“We landed behind some hills over there,” Sam said. “Glad you’re safe, My Lady.”
“We don’t have time for pleasantries. Let’s get out of here,” Rett said, pushing Belle into motion.
She grabbed Armani’s hand and pulled her along, following Rett and Sam on a winding path through gardens, alleys and dirt paths they skirted the city until they came to the outer edge of development. They crouched down behind a stone wall at the end of a street where cottages were scattered amid small plots of tilled land. Anytime a villager appeared, they hid until the way was clear.