The Bridle Path

by Faith Eden

  There was a large open field to one side of the stockade in which they had been left, empty save for a handful of small two-wheeled carts and two larger wagons. Beyond this field lay another, in which Dorothea could make out several figures. But the distance was too great to make out any further details, save for the fact that they appeared to be standing around in more or less the same place all the time and that when one or other did move, it was only to take a few steps back and forth. The obvious reason for this, she realised, was that they were all, in some way or another, tethered, probably to stakes in the ground.

  The men she saw entering, leaving and generally clustered around the nearer buildings were a mixed bunch, but mainly comprised of indigenous Vaaleans, judging from the accents that drifted across on the soft afternoon breeze. There were a couple Dorothea judged were probably Karlieans, darker skinned, more guttural, deep voices, and three more who were darker still, possibly Colrasians, which made perfect sense.

  Karlieans and Colrasians featured heavily in the slave trade of the northern continent, roaming deep inside their own countries, as well as further eastwards in their constant quest for more raw material. The two races were chillingly similar in their outlook on life: their concern for humanity started and ended with only one person generally - everyone else was considered fair game, to be sold, or sold to, or even both, if the opportunity ever arose.

  But it was not the slave traders that drew most of Dorothea's curiosity, for finding such a cosmopolitan and unsavoury bunch under these circumstances came as no surprise whatsoever. The men who came and went from the further group of buildings were much more intriguing and their mere presence far more sinister. To find so many Vorsans, and soldiers at that, so far from the gulf states that were their home, bode nothing but ill and, as the afternoon wore on, Dorothea was given plenty of time to consider the implications.

  There were other activities providing further food for thought, not least the appearance of another column of Vorsan horsemen, nearly a hundred of them, all riding openly together with their livery and insignia on clear display. That they were completely new arrivals was evidenced by the way in which they were drawn up in inspection order and then detailed off towards different quarters, each party under the supervision of one of the existing Vorsan personnel.

  From her position, Dorothea could only see a small part of the surrounding area, but it was enough for there to be no mistaking what she was witnessing. How long this had been going on, she had no idea, but one thing was for certain: Fulgrim was assembling a considerable fighting force, apparently with the full co-operation of the locals.

  Somehow he had managed to get a message back to his cohorts, probably the militarist council in Ernsdt, the most belligerent of the Vorsan states, and they had not only dispatched a rescue force to Varragol, they had been sending even larger numbers of men to rendezvous with him here. That such numbers of foreign troops could travel undetected was surprising in some ways, but by no means impossible, especially if they had taken a circuitous route through the mountains in the south and then moved north through Karli, large parts of which were so disorganised and lawless that anyone who encountered them would have wisely turned a blind eye, lest someone blind both his eyes for him.

  So, Dorothea mused, this time Fulgrim was preparing to move in force, rather than employ extortion as had been his earlier plan. But if that were so, he had to be far from ready for that as yet. Unless there were far more men nearby than she had so far seen, he was far short of the strength he would need to take the field against Illeum, which had to be his ultimate objective.

  Towards sunset, a small group of men, two Karlieans and two darker-skinned, entered the compound, separated out all the younger slaves and marched them away in two groups, the three belted virgins trudging dejectedly behind one fellow, the remainder following the other three. A few minutes later, Fulgrim himself appeared and sauntered across to Dorothea.

  'A good price for the three virgins,' he leered, 'and the rest as diversion for my men. I assume the presence of my Vorsan troops has not escaped your eagle eye, bitch?' He stooped over her, unbuckled the gag harness and snatched the leather plug from Dorothea's mouth with jaw-jarring force.

  'Unfortunately,' he said, 'most of your young fodder are not up to the physical requirements of my main ally here; they are all far too slight of build. You, on the other hand, are ideal, apart from your lack of youth, which would badly affect any resale price.

  'However, as we have no intention of offering you for sale, that matters naught and you will simply be earning your keep, so to speak. Unfortunately, I have to travel east again and will be gone a few days, but Mussef Akka and his fellows are expert in their field, so it will be interesting to see what they have made of you by my return.'

  'I'm surprised you can bear to miss even a minute of my humiliation,' Dorothea muttered, 'let alone leave my further sufferings to the hands of others.'

  'Indeed, it is a wrench,' Fulgrim grinned, 'but one has one's other responsibilities that cannot be left to others, and they are even more important than simply watching you writhe and squirm. But, fear not my treacherous bitch, I shall not leave you without something to remember me by.' He reached to his belt and unhooked the coil of braided leather that hung there.

  'On your feet,' he ordered. Dorothea sighed and struggled to obey, for there was little point in any meaningless show of rebellion, which would only worsen whatever punishment he had in store for her, if that were possible.

  Pecon, it now seemed, was not going to leave anything to chance, not if he could possibly do anything about it. Establishing the fertility of his two slaves was clearly to his great financial advantage and, whilst any problem concerning Corinna was beyond his power to resolve, he most certainly could do something to ensure against Sprig's virility being doubted.

  'A little insurance, slave,' he chuckled, depositing a scrap of cloth at Corinna's feet. 'I cannot boast quite the same proportions as the lad, but I do know that what I have functions quite properly and I shall not be staying around long enough to see evidence of which of us is your brat's real sire.

  'Indeed, once their physician has confirmed the necessary, I shan't even stay to see that belly start to swell.' He stooped over her, intending to release the collar of her slave hood, which she had worn for many days now, and cursed when his key would not turn in the small lock.

  'Damn!' he snapped. 'What manner of device has your former master employed here?'

  'A patent lock specially made for the ruling house of Illeum,' Corinna replied, 'but I think there must be some sort of fault in it. These locks at my wrists would not operate smoothly, as you would have found if you had seen fit to release me from them throughout these past days. The key broke in one of them, which was why I still wore this mask when first you happened upon me.'

  'Well, no matter,' Pecon said, pocketing his own key and drawing a wicked looking knife from the scabbard at his belt. 'Those Yslander women sold me a good selection of honest wares, so we'll just have to cut this stuff off you and throw it away.'

  Corinna sat motionless as he eased the knife between the collar and her soft neck, but his skill and precision offered no real risk of her being cut.

  'It's about time I saw your face, anyway,' he smirked, as he sliced through the thick hide, 'and about time you washed it, too. Come to that, your entire body needs bathing - you are covered in dust and you smell rank.'

  'That, sir,' Corinna replied stiffly, 'is through no choice of mine, though I agree with you, a little fresh water would be most welcome. I can smell him on me all the time,' she added, looking towards where Sprig sat bound and tethered to a small sapling.

  'There is a small stream just yonder,' Pecon said, as the blade finally severed the collar. 'Take the cloth and clean yourself thoroughly. The warm sun will dry you quickly enough.'

  'And my hands?' Corinna demanded, as he began drawing the hood up over her head. 'Am I supposed to wash without their use?'
r />   'Patience,' Pecon snapped, 'and watch your mouth, unless you want to feel my whip again. I'll attend to your hands in a moment, just as soon as I've seen what else my investment has bought me, apart from a firm arse and big tits. Ah!' he exclaimed, as the soft leather finally came away, revealing Corinna's flushed features to him for the first time.

  'Yes, indeed,' he said, smiling approvingly. 'Very comely indeed, though what's this we have here?' He bent, probing at the crown of her head and Corinna's heart skipped a beat, as she realised what had caught his attention.

  'I see,' he mused, straightening up. 'So tell me, why would a fair-haired wench cover such sunshine locks with a drab brown dye, eh?'

  'I tried to tell you that first day, sir,' Corinna replied steadily. 'I am not at all what I seem, but you would have none of it and all I earned for my pains was a thrashing and many hours with my mouth plugged with that foul gag.'

  'Well, whatever you are, you are still mine, though I think we should perhaps do something about those pale roots of yours. Demila will probably know what plants can be put to the necessary use, and we shall have to make sure we keep your little secret until after I am finally on my way. Now, stand up and I will see to the rest of this stuff. A fresh rig will await you when you return in a suitably clean state.'

  The water in the stream was ice cold, for the current was swift, and Corinna gasped for breath as she submerged herself, first up to the waist and then, steeling herself, up to her chin. Despite the temperature it felt wonderful as the dust and sweat was rinsed from her aching limbs, and only the gradual numbness finally forced her to climb out onto the bank.

  After a few minutes basking in the warming sun, she knelt and lowered her head into the stream, splaying out the matted tresses with her fingers, so that the water could flow through them the more easily. With no cleansing oils, nor even the most basic soap, it took a long while before her hair began to feel clean again, but she was in no hurry.

  For a while, at least, she was free of the harness, hood and cuffs, free of any impediment to a possible escape, save that she was completely naked and many days, even on horseback, from possible refuge. Besides, she reasoned, it was unlikely that Pecon was not somewhere nearby, keeping an eye on her, just in case she was foolish enough to consider trying to make a run for it. The man was obviously no stranger to the handling of reluctant slaves and, despite the fact that he would be able to ride her down quickly enough, he was not the type to want to waste time and effort in a pursuit he could render unnecessary by the simple expedient of not letting her out of his site for more than a few seconds.

  'Much better,' he said, as Corinna stood to use the damp cloth to remove the excess water from her now lank hair. He emerged from behind a tree, from where, Corinna presumed, he was watching her at her ablutions, holding out a metal comb, which she took from him.

  'Demila will fit your new slave belt,' he said, 'while you tidy that mess up. She will leave your hands free for now, but ask her if you need her help, for her fingers are skilled.'

  'And then you will fuck me, I suppose?' Corinna snorted. 'And I shall once again be dirty, sweaty and rank.'

  'Tush!' Pecon admonished her, his teeth flashing. 'Such language from one who would have me believe she was a lady!'

  Corinna met his amused stare defiantly. 'A fuck, sir, is a fuck,' she said. 'Whatever you choose to call it, that's all it will be. After all, you intend only to sow a few extra seeds, just to ensure the harvest that will up the price you get for me, so what else would you call it? To you, one warm sheath is very much like another, so why should you expect me to think any differently.

  'You'll thrust your cock in and out, spray me as a bull might spray a cow, then do the same over again, just to be sure. Yes, I dare say you may derive some enjoyment from it, for you are a man and all men are much the same when it comes down to the basics, but why pretend you're doing something that you're not?

  'You, my so-called master, will fuck me and I, despite my best efforts, will be betrayed by something that is not within my conscious power to control. I shall doubtless wriggle and squirm and pant and gasp and I may even scream a little, for I, sir, am a woman, and that's what women do when they are fucked!'

  She tossed her damp hair back with a contemptuous shrug, handed the now sodden cloth, which Pecon was too surprised not to accept from her, and stalked past him, head held high, hips deliberately swaying as she moved.

  'Well, well,' she heard him mutter from behind her. 'Well, well, well!'

  Whether Moxie was the more surprised to be confronted by Alanna and Jekka as she entered the gates of Garassotta castle, or they at the sight of her, it was difficult to say.

  So relieved was she to see them, Moxie began to gabble out her story, even before she had thought of dismounting.

  'Easy, my little red mop,' Alanna soothed, reaching up to help her from the saddle. 'Draw yourself a breath or two and calm yourself. Now,' she said, as Moxie stood beside her, suddenly feeling very small so close up against the towering princess, 'start again, and slower. Come, we'll walk across to the kitchens and find you something to eat and drink, for you most certainly look as though a square meal would not go amiss.'

  Moxie swallowed and nodded, now feeling curiously weak.

  'I see,' Alanna said, when the tale was finally told. She turned to Jekka, who was sitting at the end of the small table they had commandeered in the kitchen area. 'I thought all along that it would have been safer to kill that bastard Fulgrim, but it is of no use being so wise about that now.'

  'You say you did not think they intended to remain at the castle?' Jekka interjected. 'Why so?'

  'Because,' Moxie explained, between mouthfuls of warm ale, 'they must surely have known that news of their infamy would get out sooner or later and they were not enough to hold Varragol against any force that the Protector would be certain to send against them.'

  'Indeed,' Alanna agreed, nodding thoughtfully, 'and as you say, they could travel with Lady Dorothea disguised as a simple slave easily enough. After all, they got to Varragol without arousing suspicion in the first place and there are plenty of little used roads if they keep to the east as far as Tamarinia.'

  'And by now,' Jekka pointed out, 'they will be well beyond our reach, or even that of an Illeum army. From what you say, all this took place many days since.'

  'I didn't think it would take us so long to reach here,' Moxie muttered apologetically, 'but there was nowhere else I could think to go. Travelling directly west would have been far too dangerous.'

  'Quite so,' Alanna replied, reaching out a comforting hand to pat Moxie's arm. 'Don't chide yourself, little maid, for you have done well and shown great courage. Perhaps there is Yslandic blood in your family line.'

  'My thoughts were also of a selfish nature,' Moxie said quietly, looking down at the now empty flagon in her hands. 'Apart from seeking help for my mistress, I knew also that, with her gone, Pester and I could have been seized as runaways and that none would believe my story, not unless I could reach the Lady Corinna.'

  'Wisdom, as well as courage,' Alanna said. 'But there we have another problem. The Lady Corinna is not here, nor is Master Savatch.'

  'But where are they? Surely not gone back to Illeum City?' Moxie's eyes widened in surprise.

  'Indeed not,' Alanna confirmed. 'There has been some sort of accident. A rider arrived here not an hour since, just moments before us. He brought with him a message from Savatch, who is lying injured in a village some little distance from here. The details were somewhat unclear, but apparently there was an attempt on Savatch's life and someone has made off with Corinna. It is a bad business, by the sound of it.'

  'You will go to him?' Moxie demanded, already knowing the answer, for she knew, also, that there had been something between the mercenary noble and this enigmatic woman.

  'We are just waiting for the guard vice-captain to organise a small detail,' Alanna said, 'and then we ride out again. Another hour and you should have missed us
.'

  'I should like to come with you, if I may,' Moxie said.

  Jekka raised her elegant eyebrows, but said nothing.

  'Then we must find you a fresh mount,' Alanna replied, without a flicker, 'for yours looks all in.'

  Corinna was completely surprised by Pecon's gentleness and wondered whether her scathing words had touched some inner male weakness. Where she had been resigned to simply being thrown on her back and taken without ceremony, he was completely unhurried and almost seemed to be courting her.

  Having first secured Demila and Sprig, he picked up a fur, draped it over one shoulder and, taking Corinna by the wrist, led her away from the little clearing in which they were camped and back down towards the bank of the stream. She was still naked, apart from the new slave belt that Demila had locked about her middle, but the early evening air was still warm and the sun had not yet quite touched the horizon.

  Pecon spread the fur on a patch of grass and motioned for her to sit. As she did so, he turned his back on her and stood looking down at the rushing water and remained staring at it, as if transfixed, for several minutes. At last he turned, his expression impassive, though his eyes looked somewhat troubled.

  'I believe,' he said slowly, 'that you may well have told me some truth before, but events have taken us too far and I have neither the time, nor the inclination, not when I can get an assured price for you now. Besides, I should not want to risk retribution against myself, but I shall do one thing for you.'

  'And what might that be?' Corinna asked. Momentarily his soft words had raised her hopes, but she realised, in the next instant, that nothing had really changed.

  'What I shall do,' Pecon said, 'cannot be done for some while yet, but I shall be travelling north again towards the end of the summer and I shall see to it that a message reaches this castle of which you spoke, telling them where I last left you. It will then be up to whoever is concerned to act as they see fit.'