Bridled Lust Read online

‘And up here,’ he concluded, stabbing the point into the hard mud again, ‘is where there’s a fairly low pass west through the mountains. You remember Castle Garassotta, I presume?’

  ‘But what if they’re searching for us up there?’ Paulis protested. ‘That Corinna woman was warden of Garassotta, don’t forget.’

  ‘I’d hardly forget that,’ Jorkan snapped, ‘but no one from the castle knows it was us that killed them, so hopefully they won’t pay us a second thought. We’re just a couple of traders going about our innocent business, that’s all. So, just stop your complaining and let’s get moving again. If we ride hard for a few hours we may even find ourselves somewhere with a roof for the night.’

  Thankfully, the day had dawned cloudier than any of the previous six or seven, but Dorothea was in no mood or condition to fully appreciate the respite from the sun. They had permitted her little time for sleep during the preceding night, passing her among Fulgrim’s elite guards after Bendick’s lifeless body had been taken away and then, when they finished with her, she had been handed over to the Karliean grooms, two of whom took turns with her until shortly before the first fingers of dawn appeared in the eastern sky.

  She had dropped immediately into an exhausted slumber, but by the time the sun had risen behind the obscuring clouds the handlers were waking their charges, feeding and watering them and leading them away to hitch them once again between the shafts of their carts.

  It was a cruel but cunning strategy Fulgrim was employing, and despite her exhausted state, Dorothea was able to appreciate it. By using the slave girls to draw most of the carts and smaller wagons, the Vorsan warlord was able to conserve the strength of the horses his men had been able to bring with them and find after their arrival at Erisroth, so that they did not exhaust the animals during the march northwards, and would have them relatively fresh for any skirmishes that might occur once they drew close to Garassotta.

  At the same time, the pony women were available as diversions for the troopers during the night time, keeping the force content and loyal and probably ensuring that none of them would roam too far afield in search of women to sate their desires. Too often throughout history, Dorothea knew, an advancing army’s progress had been betrayed by their flanking patrols suddenly descending upon a peaceful village, only for one or two of the inhabitants to escape to carry news of their presence to their opponents’ camp or castle.

  It was difficult to be sure of the actual number of girls they had brought from Erisroth, but as the day wore on Dorothea was able to make a rough estimate. In total, there were probably a hundred smaller carts and perhaps thirty larger wagons that were still small enough to be drawn by a team of four girls. There was also a small reserve party of the females, shuffling along in three coffles of a dozen or so each, which were periodically switched with the working ‘ponies’ to reduce the overall burden on their bodies.

  In all, Dorothea calculated, that meant a total of between three hundred and fifty and four hundred slaves, plus forty or fifty handlers and a force of mounted troopers that now numbered close to five hundred. The entire column was therefore spread out over more than half a mile, so that the rearguard was at all times at least a quarter of an hour behind its head. To either side, riding along the extreme horizons, small parties of flankers rode, ready to give warning of any approaching traffic, so she guessed that there must be another patrol riding the point, well out of sight of the head of the main column.

  The proportion of handlers to girls meant that each groom had charge of a line of several vehicles, riding up and down his particular section, encouraging any laagers with both word and whip. Two more grooms rode at the back, ready to swap girls at intervals, guarded over by half a dozen of the rearguard soldiers while they effected the changes.

  The discipline and efficiency were impressive and the column moved on without any problems, stopping every hour or so for the girls to be watered and then moving on again at a slow but inexorable pace that saw it covering approximately three miles for every hour they were on the road.

  Dorothea tried to make calculations in her head, estimating the number of hours each day multiplied by the number of miles each hour and then attempting to divide that into the approximate number of miles she thought stretched between Erisroth and Garassotta. However, by now she was so tired that the numbers just swum about in her mind and refused to make any sense, beyond the fact that she was fairly certain that it would take them another six or seven days to reach their objective; six or seven further days of this tortuous progress, of heat, dust, thirst and periodic stinging cuts from the whips that drove them forward...

  The three men wore the uniform of the Vorsan army, but only one of them actually hailed from the states themselves. His name was Marcos and his home village was in Vernicia, the furthest west of the alliance, surrounded on two sides by the waters of the Straits of Mesarium and on the other two by Milkosar, Statos and Ernsdt, the most belligerent of the six and the home of their leader, Fulgrim.

  His two companions were Dasnians, mercenaries who had crossed the waters to fight for a foreign army in a tradition that stretched back through more generations than anyone could remember and they were young, arrogant and barely disciplined. When Marcos had been given the two younger troopers as his detail he had groaned inwardly, for neither was his idea of a proper soldier and he knew they had little respect for his age and rank.

  They rode out in a sweeping arc to the east and well in advance of the main column, scouting both for possible opposition and for water; if they found either their orders were to return to the column for support, assistance and further orders. When they found the small homestead, having ridden an hour further out than their original orders had indicated, and saw the two women working in the meadow by the stream, the two Dasnians made it clear they were not going to take any notice of their orders, nor of anything Marcos threatened them with for disobedience.

  ‘Keep your mouth shut, old man,’ the older Dasnian threatened, drawing his sword. ‘There’s no rush and meanwhile we can have ourselves some fun here and still have time to go back and bring a water wagon here. No one will ever know that the place was anything but deserted when we found it, will they Harkan?’

  His companion grinned and drew his own sword in turn. Marcos reined in his mount and stood firm in the saddle.

  ‘This is mutiny, you realise that?’ he bellowed. ‘You could find yourselves in the embrace of the garossette for this, or else dangling on the end of a rope. Now, fall in and we’ll ride back for further orders.’ He began to turn his horse away, but before he could spur it on a crossbow bolt thudded squarely between his shoulders and, with a gurgling protest, he toppled from the saddle.

  ‘I don’t think you needed to do that, Borthos,’ Harkan said, shaking his head. ‘He wouldn’t have said anything, for all his bluster, and now we have to explain away a body.’

  ‘Not if we bury it and set his horse free,’ Borthos said. ‘We’ll just say he ordered us to wait back over yonder and rode down here to see how the land lay and, when he didn’t return, we followed him in and found no sign of anyone at all.’ He looked pointedly towards the field, where the two women were now watching them with evident unease.

  ‘Or maybe we could blame them,’ he suggested. ‘I expect they have some sort of bow in that hut over there, so we just swear blind they killed the old man and we ended up having to get the truth out of them before executing them.’

  Harkan nodded, slowly. ‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘that would work. These Vaaliean peasants are well known for being murderous swine and a couple more or less wouldn’t bother the captain, I’m sure. Besides, this place is so far out, I doubt anyone else will bother with it anyway.’

  ‘Then let’s go talk to the suspects, shall we?’ Borthos sniggered. ‘The fair-haired one looks as though she might need me to persuade her personally, if you understand my meaning?’

  ‘I t
hink they both look pretty desperate,’ Harkan sneered. ‘But let’s not rush in. Let’s be sure there are no men folk about the place. And reload your bow first. No point in being caught unprepared, you know what they told us in training.’

  To Demila’s relief, Pecon did not seem interested in any of his new purchases, save their potential profit value, though she did not doubt that he would be bound to sample them for himself before they were sold on again. That did not worry her, as long as she was not included in any future transaction, but the blonde Yslandic warrior was something different altogether. Despite the fact that her features, like those of the rest of them, were kept hidden by the slave hoods, Demila could not help but notice how her master kept glancing slyly across the young Valkyr and the fact that such pale beauty was probably etched forever in his memory aroused jealous stirrings in the slave girl.

  They had ridden on until just before dawn, at which point Pecon had led the caravan off the main trail and through some scrawny trees and undergrowth between two small hillocks. There they found a small pool, presumably fed by an underground spring, and some worthier greenery that offered welcome protection from the sun when it finally appeared. Away to the south the sky was much greyer, but here there were few clouds and the girls were able to sleep without blankets or furs. Pecon, however, was unready to settle and he enlisted Demila’s assistance, despite her obvious fatigue.

  ‘Come, little one,’ he said, removing her hood and unshackling her wrists from her belt. ‘We must cover our tracks before we rest.’ He led the way back to the edge of the main trail, carrying two branches he had cut from the healthier trees closer to the water source and demonstrated how they should use the trailing leaves to brush out the indentations left in the dusty earth by both their horses’ hooves and the wagon wheels, backing away as they worked, until from the road itself there was no sign of anything having left it.

  Then, returning to their encampment, Pecon sniffed the air and tested the direction of what little breeze there was. He pointed back towards the drier trees around the hillocks.

  ‘Go and fetch some kindling wood,’ he instructed her. ‘We can risk a fire if the wood is dry enough and we make no smoke. The wind is away from the main trail too, so the smell of burning and cooking will not carry towards any travellers.’ Demila scuttled away to carry out this task and Pecon strolled across to where the other slaves were stretched out in the shade of the wagon and the trees beneath which it had been unhitched. Most of them had fallen asleep immediately, but Opal sat with her back to one wheel, staring straight ahead.

  ‘I have a small task for you too, lady,’ Pecon announced. The hooded girl looked up, her eyes flashing behind the masking leather. Pecon pointed to one of the hillocks. ‘Go up on top there, where you can see the road and keep watch for any approaching travellers. Even with dry wood our fire will give some smoke off until it is burning properly.’

  Opal grunted and looked pointedly down at her cuffed wrists. ‘I would be more use to you if you freed my hands,’ she snapped.

  Pecon shook his head. ‘Not yet, lady,’ he chuckled. ‘I prefer to keep you in a condition I can handle, at least until we are well clear of Farridan and his rogues. But we can remove this, at least until we are on the road again,’ he said, bending over her and fumbling with the laces of her hood.

  ‘Are you not afraid I might prefer to risk asking help from any travellers I might see?’ Opal asked, shaking her long hair free.

  Pecon laughed again. ‘I think not,’ he said. ‘You may be a Valkyr, but a Valkyr in bondage would make a good prize, even if only to sate some fool’s ambitions before he slit her throat and hid her body. No lady, you are safer with me and we both know that. I shall keep my word and you shall be released when we reach Sorabund. What you do after that is no concern of mine.’

  ‘And what of my word?’ Opal demanded, drawing herself up to her full height and thrusting her pert bosom at him. Pecon’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘What of your word?’ he countered. ‘You have not given it to my knowledge.’

  ‘I have not been asked for it,’ Opal said simply. ‘So, if I give you my word that I will not run off, that I will remain with you until we cross the frontier into Sorabund and that I will not return to seek retribution from those ignorant peasants, will you then free me and give me a sword? I swear I shall use it only in our mutual defence and that I shall not raise it against you.’

  Pecon hesitated, considering this for a few moments.

  ‘Your word as a Valkyr warrior?’ he said.

  Opal nodded. ‘As a Valkyr warrior and as an honest and gods fearing being,’ she affirmed.

  ‘Very well, then,’ he agreed. ‘I accept your word and your allegiance until we have travelled one full day into Sorabund, but on the condition that you must travel disguised as a slave when we are on the open road.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Opal said. ‘And now, if you will kindly remove these bonds, I must first make use of those bushes over there. We have been many hours in the saddle and, though a slave may not expect any privacy, a Valkyr does!’

  ‘I think they number about five hundred in total,’ Jekka said.

  Savatch, sitting propped against the wheel of the wagon, nodded. ‘More than enough to occupy Garassotta and control the immediate countryside until forces can be moved north and east from Illeum,’ he said. ‘By which time, Fulgrim will have had enough time to move his own reinforcements, whichever direction he elects to bring them from. He may even have another force waiting to join up with him when he arrives - the forests thereabouts are large and dense enough to conceal a small army from the regular patrols.

  ‘I take it you did not attempt to get in too close to the encampment?’ he added. Jekka saw the pain and concern in his eyes and sadly shook her head.

  ‘Not this time,’ she said. ‘They had roving pickets set and I thought it better not to risk betraying our presence, but I shall try again tonight.’

  ‘Not just for my sake,’ Savatch declared, holding up a hand. ‘I will not have you risk yourself, nor risk the rest of these brave lads’ safety, not just for one person, no matter how dear I hold her. In another few days I shall be fit again myself and if anyone is to take the chance, I shall do it myself. I venture we still have several days.’

  ‘Several, yes,’ Jekka confirmed. She turned and pointed towards the western horizon. ‘They are just a little ahead of our position,’ she explained, ‘and their flankers patrol just beyond those far ridges. By my calculations, at the rate they now travel it will be at least seven more days and that does not count them having to pass through the foothills before we reach the Illeus.

  ‘The road is both steep and narrow there,’ she added, ‘and runs through heavy forest, too. I have it in my mind that there will be our best opportunity to begin our move on these swine.’ Alanna, who had been squatting quietly a few feet away from Savatch all this while, turned and gave him a thin smile.

  ‘The little she-devil already forms a plan, my lord,’ she chuckled. ‘One can almost hear the cogs of that devious brain meshing. What is it you have in your mind, Jekka? Apart from your little slave companion,’ she added, smirking.

  Jekka grinned back at her. ‘I do not count Melina a slave,’ she countered. ‘I’ve told her; she is free to leave whenever she chooses. Although,’ she added with a wink, ‘I doubt she’d choose to leave us out here. But enough of that.

  ‘Yes, I do have a plan - at least, a plan of sorts and the woods in the foothills offer our best chance of making it work, so we have another four days or so in which to plan this properly. In the meantime, I shall take Ceth out again tonight and we shall see if we cannot find ourselves a Vorsan uniform or two.’

  ‘Ah, your young soldier friend,’ Alanna said. Her eyes glittered with amusement. ‘You and he seem to agree with one another quite well, I think. Could it possibly be that changing your hair colour has changed your taste
s in other things as well, Jekka?’ She did not even twitch when Jekka’s knife thudded into the earth between her feet, but merely broadened her smile and carefully took the blade up into her hand.

  ‘That, my lady,’ Jekka said, pointing to the dagger, ‘is the only weapon that’ll ever get between these legs. I prefer my meat much sweeter and always shall do, as you know only too well.’

  The two Dasnians quickly discovered that their intended victims were indeed alone. They were sisters and their father had taken a wagon load of grain to the nearest village, a full day’s ride towards the hills, their tiny farmstead being so far off the little used main trail that they considered it safe from any possibility of bandit raids. Villages and farms were scattered far and wide in this part of the Vaals, growing up and surviving only where the few underground springs came to the surface, and even so it was a frugal life.

  ‘So, you two stupid sows are here all alone, eh?’ Harkan sniggered. He pointed his sword at the taller, fairer sister. ‘What’s your name, pig girl?’ The girl looked terrified and could barely answer.

  ‘T-Taralin, sir,’ she replied eventually, stuttering in her terror. ‘W-would you gentlemen like to come back to the h-house for some refreshments,’ she tried. ‘It is a hot day and y-you look as if you have ridden far.’

  ‘Refreshments, yes,’ Harkan said. ‘I have a thirst that will take some slaking and that’s for certain. And you,’ he snapped, swinging his blade towards the darker sister. ‘What do they call you, cow-face?’

  ‘I am Millaris, sir,’ the girl replied. She seemed more defiant than her older sibling and stood with hands planted firmly on her hips. ‘You are welcome to take wine and bread with us, as my sister has said, but then we must bid you a safe journey, for there is much work to be done before this day is out.’

  ‘Ha, that there is!’ Borthos exclaimed. ‘I can see two furrows that’ll need ploughing and that’s no mistake!’ He leaned back in his saddle and roared at his own joke. The elder sister glanced nervously at the younger, who was first to speak again.