by Sharon Green
I took a split second to consider whether or not to finish him permanently, then turned away and headed for the room exit when I decided against killing him. It would be a long time before the man was able to function again, not to mention chase after me. If I wasn't gone out of here before then, his being up and around would not make the difference.
I slid out into the empty corridor between rooms and moved without sound, checking each room before I passed it. Muffled sounds came from a room down at the far end, but aside from that everything was quiet. A couple of the rooms held sleeping female forms, but the rest were empty. I became aware of Bellna as I moved down the corridor, and I had to chuckle softly.
The intruder in my mind was still in shock, trying to figure out what had happened. She had been so terribly afraid of the golden-shirt that she would have done anything to appease him, but three simple blows had taken him out of the picture more effectively than Fallan's fist-fight had done with the house guard at the inn. She knew nothing about self defense and offense, considering the entire area reserved to those with big, bulging muscles or superior weapons.
She couldn't get over the fact that she had done something like that, and so simply. She was beginning to think of that store of extra knowledge as magic, the store she couldn't always reach; I thought about all the hard work I'd put in acquiring that skill, but chuckled anyway. It was magic to someone who didn't know about unarmed combat, and the hard work part of it just didn't enter into the equation.
When I reached the end of the corridor, I found that the muffled sounds were screams that were coming from the room opposite the one that led out of this section of tents. The room out was dim and deserted, and no one would have seen me go that way; all I had to do was step into the room and cross it, then melt into the darkness outside.
There had to be armed guards moving around out there, and jumping one from behind would be a piece of cake. I didn't know what was causing those muffled screams across the way, and in any event it was none of my business. Getting out of here was my business, that and dressing and arming myself, and then heading off south into the woods. I took a step into the exit room, then a second step - and then turned and ghosted fast across the corridor.
From right outside the flap separating the corridor from the room I could hear sounds other than the muffled screaming; grunting and heavy breathing came through, as well as a faint creaking. I moved the flap over a very little bit and slipped inside, but I could have made considerably more noise and still wouldn't have been noticed.
A female slave with scraps of green on her was chained to a wooden contraption that bent her backward and spread her wide, an open invitation without need of a sign. A thick length of yellow cloth blindfolded her, and a fat wad of yellow cloth was stuffed in her mouth, gagging her effectively yet allowing those muffled screams to escape.
The dark-gold-shirted guard stood with his sword on the floor beside him and his pants down around his knees, bracing himself with one hand on the wooden frame while he thrust down at the chained woman with his body, ramming her deep and increasing the sound of her muffled screams. His other hand was closed painfully tight on one of her breasts, and as I dropped the door flap he grunted one last time with attained release.
"You provided a barely adequate ride, slave," he muttered, resting a minute against the woman's body. "It matters not how many were before me; the ride should have been fully satisfying. Though you were placed here due to your lacks in pleasing your masters, you have apparently learned nothing. It seems I must recommend that you be kept here another day, so that the lesson might be effective. Your pain is of no consequence whatsoever; your master's pleasure is all. As I have received little pleasure, you will also be beaten. Though there is little likelihood of your attaining perfection, the beating will assist you in approaching it more closely."
The guard withdrew from the woman then, not giving a damn that she was now crying behind her blindfold and gag. He turned half away from her and reached down for his pants, saw me standing there, and straightened with a frown.
"What do you do in here, slave?" he demanded, then narrowed his eyes. "Who has removed the chains from you without ordering you to remain where you were? Or for what reason have they ordered you here?"
He really didn't understand what was going on, and the provocative smile I gave him didn't help any. I began to move toward him in a slow, deliberately sexy way, my hips swinging and my breasts thrust out, and the confusion on his face suddenly became a leer.
"You have been sent to give me a proper ride!" he said in a pouncing tone, sure he'd solved the mystery. "I know not which of my brothers sees so carefully to my needs, yet I shall learn his identity from you and give him proper thanks. You will first reawaken me, and then will I make full use of you. The gods themselves would condemn me were I to do less."
From the way his eyes moved over me, I was surprised he wasn't standing in slobber clear up to his neck. Bellna felt a sharp stab of desire when he used the words "full use," and her passing it on to me nearly threw my timing off. I'd been waiting for him to bend toward his pants again if only in order to get them out of the way so he could close the gap between us faster, but he started to bend while my muscles were still tightening in protest.
It was pure luck that he kept his head up to watch me as he bent, and I couldn't afford to throw that luck away. Despite the throbbing in my loins I forced myself to run three steps and then jump-kick for power, the ball of my right foot striking the son just under his chin. His head snapped back even harder than his body did, the crack! coming before he slammed into the wooden contraption the woman was chained to. He bounced off, fell to the floor, then lay there in a very still, angular way.
I moved up to him fast and bent to check for a pulse, but that was just part of my habit of always making sure. I knew I'd broken his neck with the kick, and he hadn't survived as a fluke in spite of it. The woman on the frame stirred in her chains and made gabbling noises around her gag, but I'd done all I could for her. The guard would never make another sadistic recommendation, and leaving her chained up would guarantee that she would not be blamed for his death.
If freeing the woman had meant that she would escape to freedom I would have taken the time to unchain her, but despite all wishful thinking it would have meant nothing of the kind. She wouldn't have been able to get herself away and I couldn't take her with me, but all the same I kept my eyes away from her as I worked the dead guard free of his clothes.
I kept expecting to be interrupted, but I got the shirt and pants on and buckled on the swordbelt, and no one came in. The clothes fit as well as a man's clothes will fit on a woman just about his size, but the boots had proved impossible. They were much too big to be of use, and would have been more of a hazard than going barefoot would be. I resettled the swordbelt around my hips, took one last glance around the room, and then walked out. Usual goodbyes are fatuous; in that instance they would have been insane.
The corridor and exit room were still both empty, but I didn't understand why until I'd moved through the dark toward the main exhibition tent. The noise coming from that tent and two others of a similar size near it was incredible in the midst of the forest quiet, speaking of crowds much larger than those that had been present while I was on a platform.
I still made sure to move silently through the chilly darkness, staying out of the wide pools of light thrown by the big, flickering torches set all around the three main tents. Armed guards moved around and through the streams of people going in and out of the tents, watching, directing, and generally being very visible.
The slavers had a booming business going, larger than one princedom could account for. It was a safe bet that people were coming from all over, making however long a trip was necessary to check out what was being offered. As I stood behind a tree watching, one round-bellied man with three burly assistants took possession of a group of eight slave females and two slave males, his brusque, businesslike manner s
howing that he was probably replenishing his own stock.
The retailer buying from the wholesaler, so to speak, calculating his future profit even as his merchandise was growled and prodded into motion. When I discovered that my left hand gripped the hilt of the sword I wore so tightly that my fingernails were digging into my palm, I knew it was time to get moving - before I did something stupid. You can't change a world all by yourself, no matter how much you'd like to give it a whirl.
I faded back from the tree and moved around some tall bushes, heading toward the outlying tents of the widespread camp, trying to be careful of where I stepped. Small twigs and branches had already gotten me a couple of times, making me decide to keep alert for any vair that might have been left standing around. Traveling by vair-back would be faster and easier than going on foot, especially on bare foot.
Being free and on the move felt good, despite the direction the Bellna presence's thoughts had taken. The first sight of the display tent had brought back memory of Fallan to her, and the little girl in my head was trying to decide how she felt about him. It wasn't that she no longer had the raging hots for him; what he'd done to me in the display tent had, if anything, intensified her feelings.
What bothered her was the fact that Fallan had chosen the black-haired girl instead of me to use, the idea sending jealous, flaring anger through my head. She chewed at the thought for a couple of minutes, spoiled-brat resentment boiling around, and then she remembered that light-shirt hadn't let Fallan use me.
The interpretation wasn't strictly true, but Bellna wasn't looking for truth, only for a reason to forgive Fallan. When she found one she began to hum happily to herself, more than ready to fantasize about what it would have been like with Fallan if light-shirt hadn't interfered. I ignored the fantasizing and paid attention to where I was going, looking for something speedier to ride than the dashing Captain Fallan.
There were considerably fewer people around the outskirts of the camp, but most of them were guards and armed. The breeze tossed the flames of their torches around, but the illumination did nothing to pinpoint the guards without torches of their own. I could see their darker shadows moving around and looking as though they were keeping a sharp eye open, but I couldn't tell how many of them there were.
I'd have to get through the guards' line without alerting the whole pack of them, which would have been easier if I'd had a few more hours of sleep behind me. I wasn't quite at the stumbling stage yet, but if I'd been fresher I could have taken a string of vair through their line, not just the one I was thinking about.
Three vair stood tied in front of a small, dark-colored tent, all saddled and probably fresh enough to keep going most of the night. I hadn't tried for one of them yet even though I'd been close enough to make the try for a couple of minutes. Those vair looked too handy, and I was wondering if they were there to attract any slave who managed to break loose.
Walking into a trap isn't smart unless you know you can spring it without getting your foot caught, and something about the vair just didn't seem right. I stirred impatiently where I crouched behind some bushes, knowing it would be stupid not to take the time to figure out exactly what was wrong, but also knowing that I didn't have the time to spend on something like that. I either had to try for the vair or go through the line on foot, but whichever I did, it would have to be done fast.
I had just about decided to try for the vair anyway when I suddenly realized that the perimeter was under attack. Without undue noise a large group of men were suddenly appearing beside and behind the guards, and I wasn't the only one slow on the uptake. The newcomers had been so casual about their approach that the guards didn't know they were being attacked until the bodies started to hit the ground.
It would have been nice if the attack could have kept on until all the guards were done, but professionals don't stay frozen in shock very long. Someone yelled, swords scraped hastily from scabbards, emergency torches flared, and the fight was on.
I watched swords swinging back and forth for a minute, then rose slowly to my feet behind the bush I'd crouched near. The added torch-light showed that the attackers were wearing bright red shirts and light-blue neck scarves, and once I'd seen that, picking Fallan out wasn't hard. The idiot had brought his company to free the Princess Bellna, the charge they were sworn to protect, not knowing their charge had already managed to free herself.
It was bad luck of the worst sort that they had chosen to break in on the very spot I'd chosen to break out, but that just proved I wasn't the only one to see the possibilities of the place. I could have used the distraction to get clear without worrying about anyone seeing me - except for the fact that those men were there to rescue me. If I simply walked away they would be throwing away their lives to no purpose, especially when they tried to plow through the center of the camp. I wanted to be out of here, damn it, but now I had something else to do.
I unsheathed my sword and walked out of the shadows toward the fracas, heading in the general direction of Fallan. Bellna was wild with the thought of being near him again, but my mood was too foul for her to have a chance at taking over. I would show Fallan I was free and then take off, and lord help anyone who tried to get in my way that time.
Some idiot guardsman backed from a mercenary he and two of his friends were trying to take out, glanced at me, then did a double-take. The dark gold shirt I wore would have been enough to make him ignore me, except that the added torch-light also showed him my long red hair and bare feet. It took him only seconds to realize that I had to be an escaping slave, and then he came at me as though I were completely unarmed.
Slaver mentality being what it is, I didn't bother warning my abrupt opponent. If the weapon I carried didn't impress him, maybe what I did with it would. As soon as he got close enough he swung his blade at mine with a good deal of muscle backing the swing, obviously intending to disarm me before we went any farther.
I flicked my blade up and then down fast, missing the strike he'd planned but not missing his wrist. He howled as the point of my sword released a thick line of blood just above the back of his hand, but he wasn't bright enough to realize that the wound he'd taken had just lost him the fight. He slashed hard in the backswing, his flaring temper making him forget that he had set out to disarm me, and it wasn't hard to ring his blade with mine and help the attack past me.
Anger brought three more fast attacks that I either slipped or blocked, and then the guard became aware of how much pain he was in. We weren't fencing with small, nearly weightless foils, we were using the double-edged and pointed Narellan blades that demand a strong wrist and arm. The guard's arm was fine, but the nick I'd given his wrist not only drained his strength, it also gave him considerable pain every time he tried to move that brand around.
The guard's face was pale and sweat-covered in the glaring, jumping torch-light, and he cast a quick glance toward the center of the camp, but didn't see what he was hoping for. The clash of blades and cursing of men was noisy enough under most circumstances, but with the uproar being made by the customers in the main tents, it wasn't likely that reinforcements would notice the attack soon enough to come running with support. The guard's jaw tightened with grim decision, his fist tightened on his hilt despite the pain, and he came at me with a last, all-out attack that was the only hope he had.
Of course, the poor fool didn't stand a chance of reaching me. He had the brawny build that slash-and-stab fighting requires, but I was faster and had the benefit of a superior technique to back up that speed. I dodged his first two attacks, parried his next three, then beat his blade aside and buried mine in his middle.
In spite of everything he still looked stunned, and then he was sliding to his knees, on his way to the ground. I pulled my blade free, swiped it nearly clean on the back of his shirt, then continued on in the direction I'd been going.
I had to fight three or four more times before I reached Fallan, the last time more or less taking over someone else's fight. I turn
ed from spitting my own final opponent to see Ralnor, Fallan's lieutenant, gawping at me with his mouth open and his point down. His incredulous expression said he was sure he was dreaming but didn't know how to wake up, and the guard with the bloody sword coming at him from behind just about guaranteed he never would wake up again. I jumped past Ralnor, parried the guard's strike and wiped him fast, then turned to the shaken lieutenant.
"Only a fool allows himself to be distracted during battle, Lieutenant," I purred, glancing away from him only long enough to wipe my blade. "Has something disturbed you?"
"No more than the truth that we are all fools," Ralnor muttered, wiping at his face with his free hand. "We come to rescue one who fights like the goddess of death, and end being rescued by she for whom we came. The situation is somewhat demoralizing, yet do I thank you for my life."
"You are quite welcome, Lieutenant," I answered soberly, letting my eyes continue to move all around. "Ever have I considered the thought more commendable than the deed, and the thought evinced by you and these others has earned my gratitude. I shall not forget."
Ralnor opened his mouth to say something else, an oddly friendly expression on his face, but the words never got said. The mighty Fallan, terror of brigands and slavers, finally got himself free long enough to notice who was standing near him.
"What do you do here, in the midst of battle, girl?" he suddenly demanded, shouldering Ralnor aside so that he could glare down at me with his dripping sword in his hand. "Do you seek an end to your life? Do you not know that these are men you raise weapon to? Take yourself to a place behind me and remain there, else I shall - "
"Captain!" Ralnor screamed, and Fallan whirled around and brought his sword up fast enough to keep his backbone from being separated. Three guards had attacked at once, and Ralnor moved fast to draw away at least one of the blades from his captain.