THE RIDDED

By

PHAIR

Ebook by
PDAFiction.com

DISCLAIMER

Boy, I don't know how to explain this one. Let's just agree that there will be lots of physical and sexual violence, foul language, swords, yelling, hurt/comfort, torture, bad attitudes, and any other things that might upset somebody looking for a traditional love story. Oh yeah, and angst!

Visit my website at

http://www.phair1.com

or contact me at

p.phair@comcast.net

THE RIDDED

PART 1

GENERAL FELIX PRACTICED isometric sword drills in the south east corner of his bedroom. Sweat beaded and poured off his sun scorched body in rivulets with the exertion. Behind his hissing efforts, came a short cry and searing gasp of agony. The noise drew his attention back to the bed he shared with Pia, his wife of four, maybe five seasons.

"It's time. Bring your sword now, my lord," came her weak, pain filled voice.

With a fierce turn, Felix spun and severed the cord tethering the mother to the child resting on her chest. The gore of blood spatter across the child's face was ignored by the new father.

"Do I have a son?"

"No, I'm sorry, my lord. I have failed you once again," came the heartbroken reply.

*  *  *

Senecos was using great care to creep through the Forest of Lost Soldiers even though it was against the Laws of Elos to be out after dark. Ordinarily, he would be well home before sundown but his wife was deathly sick. The village healer told him not more than a fortnight before there was just one last hope. Luniglow was a flower whose pollen could cure any illness. The healer said it could only be found at high moon. A time when all sane men were tucked safe in their beds.

The devoted Senecos left his home a bit after mid day and hid in the bushes. He waited until the darkest part of night to begin his search. He knew the petals of the mythical plant would glow bright white under the full autumnal moon. Senecos was not to be disappointed. Luniglow shown brightly at the base of several ancient trees clustered beyond the dry river bed.

"There it is. My wife's salvation," he thought.

His plan to sneak across the clearing from his hiding place in the tall grass was interrupted by the rhythmical rustle of grass and leaves. Holding himself steady, Senecos waited for the intruder to make an appearance. The measured, confident steps and light slapping of metal on leather could mean just one thing; a soldier. Senecos held his breath as the heavy boots stomped within a hand span of his hiding place.

The soldier's gaze stayed focused on the center of the clearing. Even a passing glance to his left would have revealed the old man trying to hide. But, Senecos' eyes were glued on the tall figure. He recognized the General. Each time the army entered his village to put down any notion of insurrection against Elosian occupation, General Felix lead the march. The ruthless General took great pleasure in bloodying his well practiced sword with the worthless lives of the simple village folk.

Senecos knew he should try to make an escape when the General knelt in the middle of the clearing. A combination of curiosity and fear caused Senecos to remain and watch. The General moved with an artful grace as he pulled a dagger from his boot. A swift arm movement was followed by a pathetically short baby's cry.

"The Ridded," Senecos whispered.

The General rose and left the clearing in the direction opposite from the way he entered. It was symbolic. There would be no going back for the General. The ridded, that unworthy infant, would be left to die for the good of Elos and for the General's good as well. It would not be allowed to infect the fierce nation with weakness. It would be sacrificed to the austere god of Elos; Waur.

Senecos didn't think: he acted. Senecos didn't check to make sure General Felix had left: he came out of hiding. Senecos didn't walk: he ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Senecos wasn't an Elosian: he was a farmer of an occupied nation. Senecos wasn't free: he was treated like a slave in his own country. Senecos didn't believe in Waur: he loved the forbidden god. Senecos had never sired a child but he would become a father tonight.

The baby was left without even a blanket to cover her. Blood pooled from the knife wound at the top of her head. It was the mark of the Ridded. It ensured Waur would send his dogs to devour the baby.

Senecos snatched the child up. He bundled her against his chest and wrapped his cloak tightly around her.

"If the dogs want you then they'll have to eat me too," he whispered in the tiny ear.

Hounds howled in the distance. Senecos ran faster than he thought he could. The child in his arms didn't cry or struggle along the bumpy ride.

"I'm home, my love," Senecos was never more happy to bolt the front door closed behind him. "Wait 'til you see what I found?"

"You got it. You found Luniglow," Varna sat up in bed for the first time in weeks.

Senecos stood silently. He had forgotten about the flower. He had, briefly, forgotten about Varna.

"What's wrong? Where is the Luniglow? Speak up, man," Varna's temper flared.

Without a word, Senecos went to his side of their bed. He released his cloak. Ignoring Varna's gasp, he laid the baby down on the bed.

"Are you mad? A Ridded! You'll bring Waur and his soldiers to our very door! You're a fool!" Varna hissed.

Senecos filled the washing basin with fresh water and began to clean the baby. A soft gurgle was his only reward. Tears of joy filled his eyes.

"I'll keep a scarf on her head until her hair come in," Senecos used great care to wash the blood off.

"Until her black hair comes in! Which will compliment her tanned skin perfectly. Did you consider what the neighbors would think? No, of course you wouldn't. I'll tell you what they'll think. They'll think an Elosian soldier took me. Any child of ours would be blonde and fair just like all the native valley dwellers. Senecos, this is madness!" Varna was red faced.

"What would you have me do?" Senecos asked wearily.

"Go back out there and leave her for the wolves. Then get the Luniglow," she demanded.

"You'd send me out twice in one night?" Senecos picked the child up and cradled her against his chest. "And you ask me to kill this babe. I say no, you selfish woman!" His voice was firm. "Don't push me on this! I'll warn you only once. This child is under my protection. Harm her with word or deed and I'll turn you out. I'll condemn you as mad. The village magistrate will have you stoned."

"You speak like this to me? After ten seasons of sharing a bed? Can't you see the evil this Ridded has brought into our lives already? She is unholy among her own people. Her own god wants her destroyed. I can't even imagine what horrors await us if we keep it under our roof."

"You will not disobey me in this!" Senecos tried to soften his voice when Varna cowered back against the pillows. "When she is stronger, I'll go back out for the flower. You'll be well again. And then, we can concentrate on raising our daughter."

"Have you named it?" Varna glared but resigned herself obeying her husband's reckless decision.

"Her name is Dayne." Senecos was sure the baby sighed happily before drifting off to sleep in his arms.

PART 2

VARNA PULLED DAYNE by the hand. She had very little tolerance for the five year old Senecos claimed as their own child. Usually, he took the girl with him during the day but today he was meeting with the town elders. Females and children were not allowed to be present during those meetings.

"So, I get stuck watching it. Waur's dispossessed spawn," Varna mumbled.

She tugged harder on the small hand. Dayne's legs struggled to keep up with Varna's pace. But, the child didn't cry out or complain. She merely worked harder to stay beside Varna.

"I haven't even seen it cry since the infant phase," Varna thought to herself. "Definitely, it's a demon of some sort. Just wish I could make Senecos understand that as well as I do."

They entered the back field where their meager crops would be planted. Weeds were trying to make headway into the area. Varna pushed Dayne to her knees. She knew the leggings the child wore beneath the short tunic top would protect against broken skin. There would be no lasting evidence of her rough handling of Dayne.

"Watch," Varna started to pull weeds out and shake off the loose soil before tossing the remaining greens into a sack. "You pull these up and keep at it until I say stop. Understand?"

Dayne nodded yes. Her dark, wispy hair parted enough to reveal the lower portion of the ridded scar. The child was oblivious to the danger the mark exposed her to. Instead, tiny fingers immediately set to work following her mother's directions.

"Maybe one of Waur's hounds will see her out here and finally put an end to this insanity for me," Varna silently hoped.

Varna moved away from Dayne, just in case her dream came true. She started to work on her own section of the field. However, her weeding was slowed by distracting, run away thoughts. Varna could not shake the feeling that some of their neighbors in the village were laughing at her every time she walked with Senecos and Dayne. She could only hope that the good people of the valley believed she was cruelly attacked instead of another willing whore for a randy Elosian Soldier.

And what should she make of evil's own offspring living under her roof? The quiet, almost mute, issue of the invaders who obeyed without question, rarely cried, and never laughed. The dark, scarred child who saved all her sporadic half smiles for Senecos.

"A demon, yes. It must be a tiny demon of some sort come to take over my husband, my house, and my very life," Varna desperately tried to convince herself.

Her idle thoughts turned grim under the hot sun. She was so caught up in the number of possible troubles the child could set into motion that she didn't hear Senecos approach. She did not hear him until the old man was kneeling next to her.

"What? What did you say?" Varna sat back on her heals.

"I asked you, where's Dayne?" Senecos repeated as patiently as his temperament would allow. "Where's our daughter?"

Looking to the last place she had seen the child, Varna found it cleared of weeds and child alike. Varna's heart skipped a beat thinking her wish had come true. Perhaps, Waur had finally sent his beasts to claim his own damned kin. Her hopes were crushed when she saw a thorn bush began to shake violently at the far edge of the field.

"Oh no," Senecos struggled to his feet. "Dayne! Not that bush. Stop! You'll get hurt!"

Senecos raced across the field to rescue the girl. Varna slowly dragged herself to her feet and followed in his wake. When Senecos snatched Dayne into his arms, Varna was somewhat pleased to see tears streaming down the child's face. It was a minor indication that the girl was, at least, partially human. However, there was no sound of whimpering. Scratches covered her face, neck, and hands. Dark pieces of thorns were embedded in her soft skin. Red blood trickled and ran from the open wounds.

"Dayne, what could you have been thinking? You hurt yourself," Senecos cradled the child close to his chest.

"Mama said, she'd say stop," Dayne gave a half smile to Varna. "Mama no let me get hurt."

Varna was speechless. The evil demon child that she so despised trusted Varna to keep her from harm. It was seeking to draw Varna into its wicked web of treachery.

"It's as stupid as Senecos is if it thinks I'll fall for its sweet talk and innocent looks," Varna muttered as she turned away from the pair in complete disgust.

*  *  *

"I've come to trade," Varna, shaking off the harsh winter cold, set the jug down on Offan's table. "This fine, home grown wine for a freshly killed duck or goose."

Struggling a bit with the cork, Offan grunted, "Is it from grapes or from raspberries?"

"What difference does it make if they can't taste it? Their palates are raw from kissing Waur's ass anyway. You try a bit of the drink yourself and tell me if you can taste the difference between grapes and raspberries," Varna stood in the middle of the empty shop with her hands on her hips.

"Raspberries," Offan rolled his eyes. "I can tell from the stench of it, Varna. Sorry, but I can't trade with you for this. There's too many jugs of raspberry wine spoiling in the back as it is. I've got family myself to think of," he tipped his scruffily, bearded chin to the blonde children playing with Dayne in the empty field next door. "Give me a finely stitched quilt or a handful of turnips and I'll be trading with you. The Elosians love that stuff but they can't stomach raspberry wine."

"Offan, I'm begging you," Varna's eyes filled with tears. "I've had no warm meat, red nor white, in months. Fish is all Senecos brings in since the crops failed. Those blasted Elosians won't even let us use fish hooks because of the weapons ban. So, all Senecos can catch is the most common bottom dwellers."

"Varna, those fish are good for you," Offan offered gently. "Food like that will help your girl grow strong,"

"That girl be damned! The she-devil can starve for all I care," Varna screamed, "This is my life we're talking about and not some pathetic, half blood bastard. You're bartering with my life!"

"Watch your wagging tongue, woman," Offan warned as the children's game fell silent at the shouting. "She's just a child. Her paternity isn't any fault of her own, now is it?"

Varna held her tongue. She wanted to tell all the valley that Dayne was not a child of her body. But, Senecos would put her out if she threatened his beloved daughter.

"Are you suggesting it's my fault?" She stood straight and cocked her head, issuing a challenge. "If you are suggesting I did something to deserve that dark burden then I may need to send my husband to deal with you in the future."

Offan saw the children were near enough his open door to hear the exchange. The group moved away from Dayne with each of Varna's angry words. All the children save one. Offan's middle daughter, Becca, remained next to her friend. Their hands were tightly clasped.

"I suggest you collect your daughter and go home," Offan spoke softly. "Send Senecos to barter next time. I don't tolerate woman speaking to me like this. Go, go home Varna and try to be a mother your child. She looks like she could use a little love as well as some warmer clothes."

Varna hissed at the shopkeeper, "Watch out for your own children and leave mine to me!"

Varna turned on her heel and slammed out of the door. She grabbed Dayne by her long, dark hair and pulled the girl behind her. She didn't even notice Dayne's cheeks burn pink with embarrassment as she was dragged down the dirt road toward their home.

Once away from the village, Varna let go of Dayne. The girl immediately sped away from Varna. She was racing toward home.

"Run all you want," Varna whispered. "You and I are stuck together as long as Senecos lives."

Dayne picked up a stone by the edge of the road. Varna froze in her tracks. Weapons, tools, were forbidden by the Elosians occupiers. A stone was considered a weapon. If a solder saw Dayne wielding a rock then their house would be burned to the ground and the child would be executed. Varna paused for a brief moment thinking it might be worth the loss of her home and all her property to be rid of Dayne. In the final analysis, the thought of spending the winter in a tent did not appeal.

"Dayne, stop!"

Too late. The rock was fired with a whistling force. When it connected to its target the sound changed to a thud. It was immediately followed by a splat.

"Please don't let it be an Elosian soldier," Varna gasped. "What have you done?" Varna began to scream as she raced toward Dayne.

The girl ran into the thicket at the side of the road.

"You can't hide from me, you little monster! Get out here, now!"

Dayne emerged from the tall grass with blood on her tunic. In her hands, she struggled to hold a dead goose.

"Mama, isn't this what you wanted from Offan at the shop?" Dayne gave a big grin.

"How?" Varna could not believe her eyes. "You knocked it out of the sky with a stone?"

"Yep," Dayne smiled broadly. Her mother's frown wiped the grin off the girl's face, "Isn't it the right kind?"

"Close enough!"

Varna grabbed the bird from Dayne. The weight of it was amazing. It would keep them fed for several sunrises. In spite of the fact her mouth was watering, Varna felt her daughter needed to be corrected for breaking the law. Well, at least, for breaking the law in such an obvious manner.

"When we get home, it's five licks with your father's belt," Varna smirked at the pained look on Dayne's face. "We've told you over and over, no weapons. The occupiers would burn me out of house and home and kill you where you stand if they saw you using weapons. So, you need have a stinging reminder of their law across your backside."

"But, I thought you wanted the food," Dayne was close to crying from the threat.

"I do. That's why I'll give you the strapping instead of your father's heavy hand. I'm going easy on you this time because we're hungry." Varna could barely contain her laughter, "Maybe next time you break the rules you'll make sure nobody sees you do it."

"Yes, ma'am," Dayne wiped a tear away from the corner of her eye and vowed never to get caught again.

PART 3

FOURTEEN HARVESTS LATER

"WE CAN NOT continue to sit idly by while the Elosians slowly destroy us from within. First, the filthy bastards occupy our land. Then they disband our militia, our constables. They even forbid us weapons to protect ourselves from wolves. Now, Offan's shop is seized! Still you, Magistrate and the Council of Elders, order us to be patient," Milos took a breath. "And to be passive."

"Young man, the Council and I understand your frustration," the Magistrate conceded.

"Frustration? Try anger," Milos shouted and the room exploded into a shouting match.

The general assembly was falling into complete disorder. An emergency session was called when a band of Elosian soldiers took control of the only remaining local shop in the valley. Every man over the age of seventeen harvests from the village and surrounding farms had crowded into the Elders' Chambers. Milos had given early voice to their collective fury but had been short on solutions. None of the young men cheering him on seemed to notice that shortcoming.

"May I speak? I say, may I have a word!" Senecos' deep voice stilled the crowd. "It is an outrage, Milos. Nobody on the Council will disagree with you. And, perhaps, we should have called for action some twenty harvests ago. Maybe, we should have rebelled when the Elosian Army surrounded us and cut off our supply routes then demanded our surrender. I wonder if any of us would be here tonight if your father and I and our friends stood against them so many days ago."

"The village would have been crushed," the Magistrate answered. "We weren't highly trained, ruthless fighters. We were only merchants and farmers with families."

"True," Senecos reflected, "but we would have had the satisfaction of defending our land. Milos, you have a son of six or seven harvests. Is he ready to stand against the Elosian Army by your side? Did you know they begin training their sons to fight as soon as they wean? Do you think your wife is ready to be widowed and childless as winter draws near?"

Milos slipped back a step, "Wait a minute. I wasn't talking about fighting."

"No? I'm sorry. I misunderstood. What would you have us do to right this outrage?" Senecos smiled as he watch Milos squirm.

"I, ah, I don't know, old man! You're suppose to be so smart. How 'bout you come up with an idea or two." Milos gave a wicked grin before adding, "I know, maybe that half blood girl you've housed for so long can ask her Elosian Daddy to give us a little help?"

The room erupted in fits of laughter.

Senecos climbed up on a chair to get the crowd's attention, "MILOS! You will show me and my kin proper respect or I will take you outside for the thrashing of your miserable life!"

"Old man, don't let your mouth promise something your body can't deliver," Milos and his gang continued to laugh.

Senecos leapt from the chair and crossed the room in three strides. Before Milos could react, Senecos slammed his right first into Milos' unprotected nose. The younger man fell unconscious at the old man's feet.

"Fifty harvests of farming keeps even old muscles strong, boy. You lot, drag him out of here. As for the rest of you, if you have anything to say about my daughter then you better be ready to breath through your mouth for the rest of your life." Senecos paused to regain his calm, "Offan, I am sorry for the loss of your shop but we are all trying to endure under a relentless occupation. We simply do not have the force to confront the Elosian Army and survive. It would be genocide. I'm truly sorry my friend but we can't sacrifice the village for any one man."

Offan looked around the room. He watched as the men averted their gaze. It was obvious they were not prepared to offer any resistance to the Elosians or Senecos.

"I hope you all starve!" Offan spat on Senecos before following Milos' friends out of the building.

No motions were filed. The Council decided against a written grievance to General Felix. It would only bring the General and his troops into the village to 'restore order.' The meeting was quickly adjourned. Senecos grabbed his cloak and exited the building without looking right or left.

"Papa, Papa, wait up," Dayne called after him.

"Oh, I didn't even see you," Senecos stopped for his tall, dark daughter. She was wearing one of his winter tunics and leggings she made from old blankets. Dayne was far too tall and narrow to wear any of Varna's clothes, "Were you waiting for me?"

"Sure," she grinned and her gray eyes sparkled with mischief. "I thought I might need to carry you home if it got too late."

"You only have to carry your mother. As for me, you may kindly bury me by the side of the road if I can't make curfew," Senecos chuckled but Dayne did not.

"Never," she snagged his hand between them as they walked. "If I lost you then I'd have no one. I'd be all alone."

"Dayne, you have your mother too," Senecos sighed as he repeated the old line he always used.

"She, Mother doesn't, you know, she doesn't like me," Dayne dusted away a tear from her left eye then right. "She never has and never will. You don't have to pretend it's not true."

"How many times do we need to go over this, my sweet girl? Your mother loves you. Varna loves you very much. She's just not as overt as I am in showing affection. Varna keeps her emotions all bottled, tightly up inside of her," being a politician helped Senecos smoothly lie at moments like these.

"Not all of her emotions," Dayne mumbled as her free hand rubbed her sore thigh. "But, let's not ruin a perfectly good walk home talking about her. Tell me about the meeting. Is the Council going to act? Do you think Offan will get his shop back? And, what happened to Milos' nose? Did you have anything to do with that?"

"Ahh, a million run away questions in that head of yours. You keep an old man young," Senecos smiled and tugged his daughter closer in order to wrap his arm around her waist. "Let me see, where to begin. Ah yes, I broke Milos' nose,"

The sound of Dayne's laughter rose slightly above Senecos voice as they wandered toward their home.

*  *  *

Becca carried the few root vegetables she found in the forest into the kitchen of her home. It wasn't much but she thought she might make enough of a stew to keep the hunger pains away for her little sister. In the moons since her father lost his shop, the only food they had was what they found on the forest floor or rotting in the neighbors trash and the three ducks left on their doorstep by some brave but foolish stranger. Hunting was illegal for the villagers so the ducks were much treasured ill-gotten gains. They were the greasiest, most savory birds Becca could ever remember eating.

Becca stopped midway into the kitchen. Her father sat, sound asleep on a wooden chair next to the table. His was head propped up on his hand, resting on his elbow perched on the table. Next to his elbow, lay a big, round goose for dinner.

"Dad, Dad," she called to the slumbering man as she set the vegetables down near the dead fowl. "Dad, how did you catch this bird?"

"What're talking 'bout?" Offan slapped her hands away as she tried to wake him.

"That's what I thought," Becca smirked.

"Is it another duck?" Becca's mother stood on the stairs, in the shadows, trembling.

"It's better. It's a goose," Becca held the huge bird up to show the frightened woman.

"Nothing good can come of this. The soldiers will be watching to see who gets fat during the winter. They'll kill us all," sobs came form the darkened stairwell.

"Mother, come down here and get dinner started. It's better the soldiers murder us than to die a starved sack of skin and bones," Becca admonished the distraught woman. "I need to fetch some water."

Instead of grabbing the bucket, Becca raced out the front door of her house trying to catch her family's benefactor.

"G'day, Becca," Dayne smiled as she casually strolled down the dirt road out of town, toward her father's farm. "Lovely weather, isn't it?"

"Yes, Dayne, just," Becca paused and looked her friend in the eyes, "just beautiful."

The tall teen's tanned cheeks blushed slightly. She awkwardly shifted the pack of wood on her shoulders trying to find some comfort under Becca's scrutiny.

"I have to get this wood to the Widow Mavis. Sorry, I can't stay to chat," Dayne turned to continue on her way.

"Where did you gather such a fine load of wood," Becca asked. "I've had no luck finding enough kindling to keep the stove burning."

"Behind my father's field. If you need some, I could gather it," Dayne heard her mistake before she could stop her mouth.

"The Widow's place is on your way to the village, Dayne. You're heading away from the village. You're the one whose been leaving food for my family, aren't you?" Becca folded her arms across her chest as she waited for an answer.

"Hunting is against the law, Becca," Dayne grimaced as she realized she had inadvertently confessed. "Please, if you're gonna turn me over to the Elosians, leave my father out of it. He doesn't know I've been hunting for some of the village families."

"Dayne! How could you think I'd turn you in. I'm your friend." Becca softened her indignant tone slightly, "And, I'm glad your mine. Thank you for the food. We'd have gone hungry without it. Dad does nothing but sit and drink since he lost the shop. I do what I can but I don't know much."

"I'd like to help you, Becca," Dayne gave a big smile. "I could show you how to catch fish, and where to find wood, and,"

"Get away form my gate, half blood!" A drunken Offan shouted from the open door.

Several of Milos' men gathered near the village well stopped their conversation. Their eyes turned in Dayne's direction much the way a pack of wolves appraise their prey.

"Dayne, you should hurry home," Becca spotted the young men out of the corner of her eye. "We'll talk tomorrow."

"Oh, no you won't," Offan pounced on his daughter and savagely backhanded her. "No daughter of mine is gonna mingle with a dirty half blood Elosian!"

"Leave her alone," Dayne shrugged off her pack and tried to pull Offan away from Becca.

Several bodies hit Dayne head on. She was forced back and over the low stone wall surrounding Offan's house. The breath was knocked out of her when she hit the hard ground, giving the men a chance to get in a few unanswered blows. She recognized the faces surrounding her from her childhood. They had all been friends once. She was not sure what had changed over the passing harvests but the blows from their clenched fists convinced her a change had indeed occurred.

PART 4

BECCA POUNDED HER fists against the heavy wood door. The sun would set soon. Time was growing ever shorter. Again, she pounded on the door like a thing possessed.

"What do you want?" Varna pulled the door open and shouted. "Curfew is coming. You best get that tender behind of yours back to the village or the soldiers will make you good and sorry. Now, leave me alone."

"Wait," Becca blocked the closing door with her leg. "Dayne's in trouble. They've arrested her. Senecos must come to the village at once. She needs his help."

"Dayne?" A sleep husky voice called from the fireplace.

"My husband is too old and frail to be traveling around in the dark on a fool's mission. He only goes to the village in the daylight hours. That useless girl will have to keep 'til morning." Varna gave her most pleasant smile, "Don't worry, Dayne will probably enjoy being around her own kind. Both the two legged and four legged variety of vermin living in the local jail should suit her fine."

"Dayne, is that you?" The husky voice called out again, a bit louder than the time before.

"Senecos," Becca pushed her way passed Varna and into the little cottage, "I'm sorry to barge in but Dayne's been arrested. The Magistrate ordered her held in the cells below the Elders' Chambers. He said, he wouldn't even hear the charges until after sunrise tomorrow. He sent for an Elosian soldier to guard her."

"Look girl, I told you it has to wait until daylight." Varna made her way to the fireplace, keeping Becca under a frosty glare, "And besides, what does any of this have to do with you? Senecos' half blood bastard child should be no concern of yours."

"Dayne's my friend. She's always been there to help me. But, today I did nothing to stop the village bullies when they hauled her away," Becca hung her head in shame.

"Not true," Senecos rose from his chair and took a gentle hold of Becca's bruised face. "You came all the way out here to get me and, from the color of your cheek, you suffered at least one blow."

"She tried to stop my father from hitting me. Milos' gang saw what was happening and tackled her. Instead of pulling my father off me, they began beating her," Becca broke down crying in Senecos' arms.

"Shh, girl. How was Dayne when you last so her?" Senecos used his most soothing tone as he cradled Becca.

"She was half awake and moaning in pain. There was blood on her face. A few bruises were already showing through the rips in her clothes." Becca tried to shake off the terrible images, "They wouldn't even let her stand and walk on her own. They dragged her around the village square like she was some kind of wild animal."

"So, the local rabble isn't as ignorant as I thought," Varna was smug as she sat in Senecos' chair. "Apparently, they can see that worthless half blood for the trouble she really is."

Becca was stunned by the woman's coldness. Varna seemed almost happy to hear of Dayne's abuse and confinement.

"How? How can you be so unfeeling? I just told you a gang of men beat you daughter "

"DON'T you ever call her that!" Varna was livid as she leapt to her feet. "That hideous beast is a curse from Waur. I might have to suffer her presence in my home daily but I will not endure the likes of you blaming me for her existence!"

"Varna, enough," Senecos' voice rumbled deep in his chest. "Go to bed, woman. I'll deal with this."

Varna snorted at the girl but retreated to her bed in the far corner of the room. She was mumbling as she went. Neither Senecos nor Becca paid her heed.

"You'll stay in Dayne's loft tonight," Senecos gestured to the ladder leading up above the kitchen area. "She built it herself. It's quite warm and comfortable."

"No, we have to go back. There's still time." Becca was desperate, "There has to be time still to rescue her."

"If we start back now then the two of us will end up in the cells next to Dayne, if we're lucky, or in the bellies of a wolf pack, if we're not so lucky," Senecos chuckled.

"How can you laugh?" Becca's shoulders slumped in defeat, "I thought you, at least, would be worried about her."

Senecos' eyes grew moist, "I'm heart sick about my Dayne. But, getting us arrested and shipped off to Elos as slaves isn't going to help my little girl out of her dilemma. You must keep your head in difficult situations, girl," Senecos tapped his index finger against Becca's temple. "The Magistrate is a good friend of mine. I'm positive he put Dayne in the cells and posted an Elosian soldier to keep Milos' boys away from her. He's protecting her as much as detaining her. She's as safe as she's going to be tonight. I'm sorry but all you and I can do is get some sleep and start off at daybreak."

Becca could only nod her head in agreement.

*  *  *

Dayne's whole body shook with her efforts to open her swollen eyes. She wished she hadn't bothered at all when she saw how far she was from her goal. The dirty blanket and moldy straw which served as a bed was still more than an arm's length away. She had been trying to reach the little bit of comfort the cell provided since Milos' gang had dumped her, half naked and barely conscious, on the cold, damp floor. Dayne couldn't suppress her groan of bitter disappointment.

"D'ju say somp'tin?" The voice of her tormentor echoed against the stone walls. "I aks you, you answa!"

Dayne heard the keys jangling in the lock. Again. She tried to steady her breathing to prepare for the bashing Anso was going to give her. Again. Anso was assigned to watch her until an Elosian soldier could be summonsed to guard her. Anso, the dull, younger brother of the Magistrate, took his assignment to include beating Dayne anytime she made a sound or sudden movement or if the mood struck him.

"Half blooded scum," Anso swung his belt and it caught Dayne across the shoulders. "Filty beastie, hurtin' good girls likin' Bec's."

"Didn't," Dayne murmured as the belt put two or three more stripes across her already sore back.

"Liar," Anso spit at her before grinding his boot heel into her right hand. "Confess! Say ya hurt'd Bec's!"

"No, never," Dayne gasped as another finger broke under Anso's weight, "never hurt Becca." Dayne knew enough to keep the rest of her thoughts silent, "I love Becca."

"What goes here!" A voice marked with a thick Elosian accent ended Dayne's punishment for the moment.

Anso turned to the intruder, "Who ya?"

"First lineman, Reuben, of the Elosian Infantry at your service, good sir," there was a hint of humor in the youthful voice. "Would this be my very dangerous prisoner?"

"Yep," Anso stepped out of the cell and handed the keys and his belt to the soldier. "She real baddie. Put a painin' to a good village girl for no reason 'tat 'tall. Look at 'er. She's layin' tere snivlin' like a bitch in heat."

Reuben nodded agreement as he accepted the belt and keys. He noted the woman in the cell was silent in spite of her obvious injuries. He also saw the blood splattered on Anso's shirt.

Reuben nudged Anso with his elbow, "Not to worry. You get along home. I'll see to it the prisoner gets everything she deserves," a small wink followed, "and then some."

Anso laughed until he gagged on a mouthful of phlegm. He spit the wad on the floor before he bounded up the stairs to the Elders' Chambers and his spars room behind the Magistrates podium.

Dayne heard pieces of the conversation and shades of the tones the voices carried. However, the throbbing pain her body was enduring kept her from fully processing exactly what was happening outside the bars of her cell. She knew a soldier had arrived and Anso was very happy to see him. Dayne assumed the soldier was an executioner. Why else would a villager like Anso laugh so hard at a joke told by an Elosian soldier?

Heavy boots stopped inches from her nose. Dayne could smell the leathered skins and wax polish favored by Elosian soldiers. She opened her eyes in time to see the Elosian squat in front of her. He wasn't much older than herself. His dark hair was shaved off on the sides but long on top; the mandatory cut for a line soldier. If he ever got his own command then he would shave his entire body and keep it free of hair.

"Funny," his voice was pleasant as his hand smoothed her blood matted, black hair from her face, "you don't look like a dangerous prisoner. You remind more of my memories of home." He gave a small, sad smile, "I have a sister who could be your twin."

"No, not Elosian," Dayne struggled for air, "half blood."

"Is that a brag or complaint?" The soldier grinned.

"Neither, only truth."

Ah, yes, the truth," he eased Dayne onto her back before lifting her like a child. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you but 'the truth' depends entirely on who is telling the story."

Dayne remained silent while Reuben carried her to the straw in the corner of the cell. The soldier carefully laid her down and used the grimy, thread bare blanket to cover her.

"If I had brought my pack with me, I'd have given you my own blanket for the night. Unfortunately, I left in such a hurry, I only managed to grab some rations and my sword."

"Your sword. That's all you need," Dayne drew in a painful breath, "for an execution, right?"

"And who's getting executed?" Reuben laughed when Dayne frowned at him. "Trust me, I've come to protect you from the vigilantes. From the damage they've done so far, you could use more than a little protection. I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner."

Dayne worried she was hallucinating. She had been battered and caged by neighbors and old friends. But, the man before her, a dreaded enemy of village, had come to watch over her. It made no sense in her rattled brain. Tears began to make their way down her cheeks.

"Are you in pain?" Reuben sounded sincere.

Dayne nodded. It was easier to agree than to try to explain her confusion.

"Get some sleep. It will help you heal and lessen your aches. I'm going to lock the cell door in case we have uninvited guests. But, don't worry I won't let them hurt you anymore," Reuben gave a reassuring grin before moving standing up.

"Why?" It was all Dayne could manage.

"It is every Elosian's duty to establish civil societies and maintain order," Reuben explained proudly. "Civilization is the obligation bestowed on us from Waur. It is our birthright."

Dayne studied him as he walked out of the cell. His sleeveless, leather skirted uniform revealed more of his body than it hid. Not one ounce of fat showed anywhere. His rock hard muscles gleamed tight with the slightest movement. But, he was graceful in all of his actions.

Reuben's height and coloring was strikingly similar to Dayne's tall and dark features. While not as muscle bound as the soldier, Dayne was physically strong. She wondered what it was that made them so different. What was it that gave him the birthright to rule the world and condemned her to be ruled by the world?

PART 5

"WAKE UP."

Dayne bolted up trying to get away from the deep voice and rough hand on her bare shoulder. While she was not exactly sure where she was or how she came to be there, Dayne knew she needed to obey. Every ache in her body reminded her of the price she had already paid for disobedience. She was not willing to suffer more abuse at the moment.

"Easy," the deep voice remained but the hand was removed. "I just want you to wake up and have some water and maybe some bread. You shouldn't sleep so sound after getting punched around like you did. You might wake up dead if you're not careful."

"Reuben?" Dayne vaguely remembered talking to the soldier earlier in the evening.

"Who else?" He chuckled. "Do you think you can open your eyes so I can get a look at the pupils?"

Dayne struggled to lift the swollen lids. She felt the crusted, dried tears crack along the lashes but the lids would not budge more than that.

"No, sorry, too swollen," Dayne let her head rest back down on the straw covered floor.

"No, no, sit up. Come on. I'll let you keep your eyes closed for the time being but you need to sit up and take a drink of water," Reuben's voice was patient.

"Not sure, stomach hurts," before Dayne could give more of a warning she wretched. "Sorry, so sorry, oh no," she was sobbing.

"Sssh," Reuben sounded slightly amused. "I should have expected as much. You village types are always spitting on us soldiers while we serve to enforce the peace."

Dayne tried to pull away, fearing the consequences of her poorly timed illness. The soldier, not only held her fast, he started to clean her face with a cool, damp cloth.

"Might not get the water in you but at least I'll get it on you," he was cheerful with the foul chore.

"Why are you helping me?" Dayne was suspicious of the soldier's motives.

"I already told you, my sister looked like you. Reminds me of my home, my family. And, that's a good thing. I'm stuck here for twenty moons more. Memories are all I've got to get me through ordeal."

"Wanna share?" Dayne grinned around her bruises. "My mother hates me. All my memories are tinged with her sneers and glares. I've got nothing happy to get me through my life."

A cold smack of wet, cloth landed across Dayne's eyes, "Please, don't look for sympathy from me, my girl. If your Mamma don't love you then your Daddy sure does," Reuben laughed as he pick up his supplies to leave the cell.

"Senecos isn't my father. And everybody knows its true," Dayne sighed heavily under the weight of the cold compress and the truth. "Senecos is a descent and caring man. I love him more than anybody could love a father. And, I think he feels the same about me. But, if Varna bore me then Senecos can't be my father. Look at me. You even said I look like your sister. So, at least half of me is Elosian. That must be the half my mother hates so much. That must be why she can't love me."

"Then she's the fool," the cell door clinked shut with Reuben's last word. "My mother would thank the gods for a child like you."

Dayne held steady. She did not react to the words. Reuben said 'gods' when he spoke. Elosians believed in Waur, the one god. She wanted to ask more but her fatigue was setting in.

*  *  *

Becca had tossed and turned the night away in Dayne's sleeping loft. The bedding was most comfortable Becca had ever laid on. The blankets covering her were simple cloth on the outside but, Becca was sure, there were fur pelts inside. What should have been a perfect night's sleep was plagued by thoughts of Dayne. Was she cold and hurt? Did anybody give her some water? Did she hate Becca for running away?

Becca wiped her eyes to dry the tears and push away the sleep. Holding the pillow close, Becca caught Dayne's scent. She buried her face in the cloth, losing herself in the illusion her friend was home, next to her, and safely sharing the bed.

The cock crowed in the distance. Becca scrambled from the bedding. She struggled into her clothes while calling for Senecos to get up. She heard Varna curse in a hoarse, sleepy voice. Becca smiled with self satisfaction that she interrupted the vile woman's rest. Just as Becca reached for her boot, which somehow managed to end up near the head of the bed, her hand caught the wood head board. Instead of a smooth surface, Becca realized the wood had been engraved. In the darkness, she let her fingers follow the pattern. Her heart beat raced as she recognized the Elosian symbols that formed her own name.

"Dayne, you do love me. And, I love you too," Becca whispered to the darkness.

*  *  *

The swish of air followed by a low hum woke Dayne. The cloth covering her eyes fell away when she turned toward the sound. It had served to relieve the swelling in her face. She was able to force her eyes open and find the source of the hypnotic sound.

Reuben stood in the center of the room. His sword cut through the air in intricate arcs and jabs. The metal almost sang as the blade swung in its deadly dance; slicing into the silence.

Dayne tried to sit up for a closer look. The soldier, so focused on his drill, sensed only her movement and perceived only a threat. He turned his blade toward the cell and landed a fierce blow across the bars. The shrill scream of metal to metal echoed off the stone walls.

"Please, don't kill me," Dayne raised her hands but did not draw back from his threatening stance.

Reuben blinked once then twice, "I, ah, I was, well, I was concentrating and lost track of, anyway, it's okay, I won't hurt you."

Dayne acknowledged him with a nod. Her eyes remained fixed on the sword. The torch light shimmered across the polished metal surface. Its point was so sharp it sparkled like a star.

"You like this," Reuben asked hefting the weapon a little higher.

Dayne nodded.

"More than that, though. It calls to you, doesn't it?" He asked. "It speaks in a language your heart can hear."

Dayne nodded again.

"Your hands itch to hold it, don't they? They ache to caress it, to feel the weight of it?"

Dayne nodded with tears in her eyes.

"You poor, half blooded, bastard! Your lust for the sword must never be satisfied. It's the lasting gift from your true father's god. It infected your blood. Leaving you with a burning desire for weapons and power," Reuben spoke with an air of heartbreak. "Dayne, you can never, never give into that lust. You're only a half blood villager. If you even touch a weapon then your life is over. If your good neighbors don't kill you then General Felix will do the honors. Do you understand?"

Dayne nodded with tears streaming down her cheeks.

PART 6

THE SUDDEN POUNDING on the prison's door interrupted Reuben's vigorous sword practice. He glanced to the window and saw the first hints of dawn creeping between the bars. Slowly, he relaxed the viciously taunt contracture of his sweating shoulder muscles. Reuben allowed himself a moment to step back from the calculated fight his drills prepared him to wage. Now was not the time for war and here was not the place. Today was just another typical sunrise over the valley. Still, there was the persistent banging on the door which was out of the ordinary. Most people didn't try to get into jail. Whoever or whatever was on the other side was most anxious to gain entry.

"I'm here. Yes, I'm still here in this filthy country, gods' damn it!" He mumbled with a sad head shake. "Give me a chance to get the door unlocked. Get a grip, will you? Try to calm yourself!" Reuben commanded as he released the door latches and lifted the solid wood mid bar securing the prison from unwelcome intrusion.

A small figure pushed the door open once the locks were free. The force almost knocked Reuben over. The intruder bounded across the room to the cell door. She grasped the bars and called out the occupant's name in the most heart wrenching of cries.

"Dayne! Dayne! Please, Dayne don't be dead. My life is over if you die. Dayne, please, answer me. Please don't be dead. I have to tell you. You need to know. I lov,"

"Girl, stand back! If you move aside, I'll open the cell for you," Reuben recovered enough from his near tumble to interrupt with an offer of a helping hand to the panicked young woman. He assumed from her distress she was a family member.

"Why?" Becca turned on him. Her pent up fury was unleashed in an unstoppable tirade directed at the only one available, "Why would an Elosian soldier, or even better, an Elosian officer such at you offer assistance to poor, desperate villagers like us? Do you think I'd service your manly needs for the favor? Or, maybe you thought both of us would see to your pleasure? Look at her! Look at how you left her! She's broken and bleeding and what have you done about that? NOTHING! You selfish bastard!"

"Now, wait a moment, young woman," Reuben gave a shy grin. "You are most definitely wrong about me and my intentions. To start with, my parents were legally married. In fact, a high ranking monk of Waur presided over the festivities."

"You son of a  " Becca was about to launch herself at the smug soldier when a hoarse voice stopped her cold.

"No! Becca, don't. He's a friend," Dayne coughed hard and spit out a gob of blood before she could continue. "A friend of sorts, anyway. He took good care of me. Guarded me against Milos. He's a soldier but that doesn't mean he's our enemy."

Reuben's smile faded with the strength in his prisoner's voice. He crossed to the cell and opened the door. Before Becca could make her way in, Reuben was at Dayne's side.

"Blood but no fever. That's a good sign. Be still, you could have broken a rib or two. You might have punctured a lung. Hence the blood." He felt the soft skin at the back of Dayne's neck for fever.

"No," Dayne tried to pull away from his concerned touch but he held on firmly. "Blood's from the throat and coughing so hard. Trust me, I've punctured a lung before. I know how it feels," she gave him a brilliant smile and he reluctantly released his tender hold on her. "Becca?"

Dayne turned to find her friend on the opposite side. Just like their childhood days. The two faced every one of their misadventures side by side. Best friends.

"Look at you! Look what they did to you. My fault, all my fault," Becca began to sob at the sight of her beaten friend.

"No, no, stop now, no, no crying," Dayne raised her broken hand to wipe the tears away from Becca's cheeks. "Not fair, Becca. I'm hurt and you get to cry. No fair."

Reuben let out a chuckle but was quickly silenced with a nasty look from Becca.

"Dayne, tell me where it hurts. Let me help you," Becca gently cradled the bruised hand and showered it with soft kisses.

"It hurts everywhere," Dayne whispered, "and it hurts nowhere now that you're with me."

"Is she well?" Senecos had entered the prison quietly and startled the occupants with his presence.

"Sir, the prisoner had a restful night, Sir," Reuben went to full attention out of respect for a member of the Council of Elders. "She was unable to eat because of her pain but did drink some, Sir. As for this other woman, I, have, I've no explanation, Sir." Reuben's shoulders drooped a bit at his lapse in duty.

"Lineman, I'm the prisoner's father," Senecos gave a small, sad smile. "The young woman, Becca, came with me this morning to check on Dayne. She was merely worried about an old friend. But now, Becca, it would be best if you were on your way. Your father must be extremely worried about you failing to return home last night."

Becca was about to protest her sudden dismissal when the Magistrate stormed into the prison. He was still in his rumpled sleeping garments. His bare feet blued as they crossed the cold stone floor. However, his visible shaking had nothing to do with the cold.

"Senecos, you've no right to disturb my household at this hour of the morning. Official village business is discussed by reasonable men, at reasonable times of day, and in anyplace other than a dungeon."

"The very place you confined my daughter," Senecos snarled as he grabbed the Magistrate by his nightshirt and shook him. "How dare you? Would you shame me over a brawl? You should have sent her home! Curfew be damned! She could have made it home in spite of her injuries. She's smart enough not to get caught by the Elosians in her own woods."

The Magistrate broke free of Senecos' grasp, "I didn't jail her because of the late hour. Believe me, time was in her favor! If there was more than half a candle wick to sundown then I would've had her flogged in the square. She was lucky this time. But, next time there will be no reprieve."

The prison fell into a deathly silence at the Magistrate's pronouncement. Senecos threw a cautionary look over his shoulder to Dayne and Becca. His tight features warned them to stay quiet.

"Spit it out, man. What do you mean by that? Why would you have the victim punished?" Senecos snorted.

"Victim, ha! Dayne attacked Offan. Ripped the man's tunic and scratched his shoulder. Offan, a fine citizen of the village. No arrest history or family disgrace to sully his name," the Magistrate glared at Dayne. "If it weren't for our brave, young village men racing to the rescue then who knows what she would have done to Becca. Offan has cautioned his daughter time and again about the volatile nature of this lustful, half blood you've raised amongst us, as if she were your own." The Magistrate let out a frustrated sigh, "Senecos, I've warned you this would turn out poorly for all of us. She is not your daughter. She is a beast in need of strict discipline. If you wish to keep her as a slave then so be it but don't continue with this charade that she is any way an equal to our citizens. It does us no good and her no good to pretend that she's some form of a human being."

Reuben stalked out the cell. He grabbed the Magistrate by the throat and brought him eye to eye, "Be careful your rhetoric doesn't cross the line. The half of her blood that doesn't flow in your veins flows in mine! You might enslave her, it's your right, but, make no mistakes, she is a human, not an animal, got that?"

"Officer," Senecos placed his hand on the soldier's and squeezed. It was gentle contact at first but grew to be painful, "this discussion is for villagers. You're command of our language must be somewhat limited. I certainly heard nothing in the Magistrate's words to demean Elos or her people. Please let us resolve our own legal matters as General Felix promised we could. It is the art of diplomacy that wins the day, young man."

Reuben studied the older man's features. There was a kindness on the surface but beneath lay something more practical. Senecos was a politician, threw and through. The soldier released the Magistrate and Senecos released the soldier. Reuben turned his back on the group and went to collect his few belongings.

The Magistrate rubbed his sore throat and began again but in a much softer tone of voice, "My decision is so; Senecos, you are take Dayne to your home. She is not to be allowed in the village unless you are with her and have her properly restrained. If she steps outside our laws in anyway then I will order she be sold to the Elosians."

"You can't do that! She didn't do anything wrong. There should be a trial. My father," Becca was livid.

"Under our laws, Becca, you wouldn't be allowed a court trial," the Magistrate shouted back. "A village woman is suspected if one man lays a claim against her. Her father or husband or brother would stand proxy for her before the council for an evidentiary hearing. But, if two or more men agree to the facts of the claim then there is no need for a trial. The woman must be guilty. Twenty men agreed to the facts of the claim against Dayne. She attacked Offan with no provocation." The Magistrate turned his attention to Senecos, "Seeing as she's a half blood, I could have ordered her sale immediately with the price going to Offan. I didn't do that, Senecos, because we are friends. You should be the one to make the decision and," the Magistrate stepped closer and lowered his voice, "to collect the profits."

Senecos dropped his eyes to the floor before giving a knowing nod, "Thank you, my friend, for wise advise. For now, I'll take her back home to heal."

"Guard, collect the prisoner and make her ready for travel," the Magistrate called over his shoulder. "Senecos, one last piece of advice. Don't let her back in your house while you decide her fate. The less you see of her the better you will feel about your choice in the end."

"Yes, very profound suggestions my friend," Senecos grasped the Magistrates hand is a crushing shake.

"What are you doing? Stop that. Her father is here now there's no need for those," Becca placed herself between a staggering but standing Dayne and Reuben with an arm load of shackles.

"Young Woman! I'm losing my patience with you," the Magistrate wagged his finger at Becca. "Get out of the way so First lineman Reuben can chain the half blood."

"You're done here. Go tend your own home now, Girl!" Senecos growled at the blonde.

"Becca, please, go home," Dayne leaned heavily against the cell bars as she struggled to talk. "My father will take care of this."

Becca, in total frustration, half turned to Dayne to ask, "Do you want me to leave you alone with them?"

"No," Dayne smiled and whispered so only Becca could hear, "but you have to go home and be safe. Let my father clear things up. It's only for a little while more."

"But, there's so much I need to tell you," Becca's tears could not be stopped this time. "You need to know,"

"I do know," Dayne held out her wrists for Reuben to bind. "Please go home before you get into trouble too."

Becca couldn't look while Dayne spoke. She could not watch her friend treated so cruelly. She reluctantly nodded agreement and left the prison without a backward glance.

*  *  *

They had kept a steady pace even after leaving the village center. Senecos lead Dayne with a short chain connected to the shackles at her wrists. He had not spoken one word to her the entire time. The silence was weighing heavy on the battered young woman. It became unbearable while they were still half way from home.

"Papa,"

Dayne saw only a blur of movement before the backhanded blow dropped her to her knees. Cowering in the dirt with a mouthful of blood, she managed a side wards glance at Senecos. In one hand he held the her chained wrists tightly to prevent any blocking of further strikes while he pointed at her accusingly with the other. His face was red with rage.

"You are never to call me that again! You are not my child. After all I've done for you, you attack my friends and neighbors. You would shame me before the village? No, not my child! Not Varna's child. I shouldn't have rescued you," Senecos screamed.

After a few deep breaths, Senecos yanked Dayne along as he continued toward their home. Her mind was reeling. Her father never hit her before. Now, Senecos not only struck her but disowned her at the same time.

"What did you mean?" Dayne flinched when Senecos stopped abruptly. The blow didn't come so she continued her question, "What did you mean by rescued?"

"I found you. Hours after your birth. In a field beyond the Forest of Lost Soldiers. You are The Ridded," Senecos spoke without emotion and did not turn around to face Dayne.

"No, no," Dayne was desperate for it not to be true. "You're just mad at me. You're trying to hurt me 'cause you're angry. I'm Varna's,"

Dayne was unable to finish her thoughts before Senecos whirled around to grab her by the throat. He squeezed tight and silenced her voice.

"Now, listen good!" He spoke in a menacing voice. "You are a throw away from the occupying army. The mark is here," he tapped her head twice. "I saved you from Waur's hounds. Took you into my home and raised you as my own child. And what is my reward for years and years of care and nurturing? You repay me by behaving like an Elosian in front of the entire village! NEVER AGAIN! You shamed me as a daughter. Now, let's see if I can keep you under control as a slave," Senecos snarled.

He shoved her away from him and she fell in the dirt. Dayne gasped for breath. Between the physical beating from the day before and the emotional assault of today, Dayne was struggling to remain conscious. She was vaguely aware of Senecos pulling her to her feet and starting back toward his house. She followed along without a word. Mindless of the pain her body felt, Dayne forced herself to remain upright.

Instead of taking her into the house on their arrival, Senecos brought Dayne to the barn. There was a small, unfinished storm cellar beyond the last stall. When he flung the trap door open, Dayne didn't need to ask what he wanted. She jumped into the filthy space and ducked. Senecos slammed the trap door closed and latched it shut.

There was room enough to sit if she hunched her shoulders. But, her nagging injuries won out, Dayne stretched out full length in the muddy dirt. Her eyes fluttered as she fought sleep. Exhaustion had taken a toll on her, though. As she fell asleep, Dayne's uninjured hand crept up to cover her head. Curious fingers traced the scars she long knew were there but never wanted to ask about; R  I  D

PART 7

HER IMMEDIATE FUTURE was most uncertain. And, her past was nothing more than lies. At the moment, Dayne did not even know how long she had been left to suffer alone in the storm cellar. It was at least one sun rise. Perhaps, two or three suns had risen and set since Senecos locked her in the cold, dirty pit. Nobody had come to check on her after that. No bread for her belly or balm for her wounds was offered. However, those losses didn't matter to her much any more. She was beyond hunger for food and comfort for the pain of physical and emotion beatings.

One torture towered above all her other grief combined. No water was provided. Thirst was a different kind of torment. Water was a much more basic need than food or care. It was one of the primal desires. The absence of it left one dry. Very dry. So very, very dry. Dayne wondered if her life would end by choking to death on the dust gathering in her mouth with every breath. Her tongue, swollen and parched from dehydration, kept sticking to her teeth and lips. When she tried to pull it free, blood trickled from the cracks in the broken skin. She sobbed from time to time in spite of the fact her tears had dried up right along with her spit.

When the trap door banged open, Dayne covered her head and tried to make herself a very small target. She waited for a victory howl from Waur's dogs but none came. Her dark, dank world rapidly filled with blinding light and clouds of dust blown up with the rush of fresh air from above. She struggled for each subsequent breath; choking back against suffocation.

"Senecos sent me to get to you," Varna's voice was unusually light. Perhaps, she might have been a little giddy. "Get off your backside this very minute! Move it, slave!"

Dayne willed her bruised and sore body to obey quicker than it wanted to do. Any moan that tried to break free was silenced by her shear will. Dayne would not ruin her first, and maybe only, opportunity to get out of the storm cellar by appearing lazy. Also, she didn't want to lose any chance at getting back into Senecos' good grace. After she scramble out of the hole, she forced herself to stand tall and stay silent. Dayne stood strong near the open trap and kept her eyes down. She waited for whatever might come next.

"You're to wash in the river then dress in the clothes I left on top of your bedding. You'll find your blankets and few belongings in the last unused stall on the moon side of the barn. What isn't there was burned," Varna spoke in a sing song voice as she unlocked the shackles around Dayne's wrists. "I'll leave the chains with the bedding. I'll give just one warning, put the chains back on before you go about your usual, daily chores. Otherwise, I'll be forced to punish you," Varna sounded almost joyful, "and, trust me, you don't want to experience that kind of pain. There are two minor changes to your chores. You are not to leave Senecos' property unless he is with you or instructs you to do so. Second, store the firewood near the doorsteps instead of bringing it into the house. Senecos will not suffer the sight of you again. His poor heart can't take anymore betrayal from a beast such as you. Now, strip out of those filthy rags and let's see the damage Milos and the boys managed to inflict with such little effort on their part."

Dayne shuddered at the statement and cold tone of voice but she remained silent as she did what she was told to do.

"Hmm, looks like they got you hard here," Varna smiled as she jabbed her bone thin fingers into the tender, black and blue flesh near Dayne's ribs. "And here." Dayne shuddered at the contact but remained silent. "I must admit it's nice to see you finally getting the beatings you deserved all along. Tell me, slave, what will you do when Waur sends his hounds to devour your flesh and gnaw on your bones?"

"I'll fight as best as I can," Dayne's voice was scratchy and soft. "They'll win but I'll struggle for as long as my lungs hold breath. My nature, the Elosian part of me, demands a fight. Something Waur can appreciate." Dayne cracked a smile and felt the blood dribble from the corners of her lips, "And what will you do when my god's dogs finish with me? Won't they search for the roof under which a ridded was allowed to grow to adulthood? Won't they seek the house that protected me from their highly trained noses all these years? What will you do to appease a foreign god's appetite for revenge, Mistress?"

Dayne dared to look Varna in the eyes this time. She watched as her words worked their way beyond the first line of defense; anger.

"How dare you?" Varna slapped Dayne across the face.

Dayne waited a breath before resuming her gaze which demanded an answer to the question.

"We're not Elosian. Waur's rules do not bind us!" Another slap followed but Dayne rolled with the blow.

"As you say it, then that's how it'll be, Waur willing," Dayne smirked before returning her gaze to the dirt floor.

"Besides, I did not bring you home from your deserved fate. Senecos brought you back inside. No reasonable argument from me could reach him in those days. He's the one who needs to answer to Waur, not me!" Varna was slightly breathless as she defended herself.

"It should be done as you say. As long as, you did not covet what was not your own." Dayne raised her gaze into Varna's increasingly frightened eyes. "As long as, you did not see me as a mule for your labor and bidding. You only wanted me gone from your home, right Mistress? You never wanted me for your field hand or hunter, right? You didn't desire your oppressors' property, right? That wasn't what happened, right?"

"Shut up!" Varna slapped Dayne again. "Go wash yourself then get to work."

"As you command," Dayne smirked when Varna left with a curse and ran back to the house.

Dayne managed to get herself to the river's edge before collapsing in the cold mud. The effort of a few steps exhausted what little strength she had left. She managed to pull herself the last couple of inches to reach the water and quench her thirst. She drank until she thought her stomach would rupture.

Dayne rested her head on her folded arms at the river bank, waiting for the pain of fullness to ease. She was drifting in and out of consciousness. Her mind nagged her to get up. It would not do to be out in the open for so long. Waur's dogs might be sleeping during the day but her scent would linger for hours if she stayed in one place for too long. When she hunted she always stayed downwind and moving parallel to her prey. Laying here she was upwind, Dayne was sure. She tried to rally herself to her feet but only manage to roll over on her back.

A shadow fell across her face. Dayne whimpered and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She expected sharp teeth or a painful lash to land across her battered flesh. Instead, soft, warm fingers caressed her sunken cheeks. Full and tender lips kissed her brow, eyelids, and lips. The sweet smell of fresh baked bread filled her nose.

"I must already be dead," Dayne dared to breath.

"No, you're alive," Becca replied.

"A dream then, a beautiful, impossible dream," Dayne refused to open her eyes and ruin the fantasy.

"No, dream, I'm here. I'll always be here for you. I've waited everyday for you to come outside. The village men said Senecos was punishing you but I never believed he would go so far. Dayne, did he really disown you?" Becca sniffled on her tears.

"Yes, he did. He's keeping me as a slave." Dayne manage to squint up at Becca, "You are so beautiful. If you're a dream then please, can we stay just like this for a little while."

"I'm no dream," Becca leaned down and pressed her lips to Dayne's. "And no, we can't stay like this. I heard what Varna said to you so we have to get you washed and dressed."

"Becca, it doesn't matter. The dogs will come for me and then I'll be beyond your touch. Let me enjoy you a bit longer so the memory can carry my soul for all eternity."

"You have the tongue of a poet," Becca sighed and kissed Dayne again. She allowed her tongue to gently enter Dayne's ravaged mouth, "A wounded but not yet dead poet. I promise you that there will be endless hours of you 'enjoying' me but first you must heal."

Becca pulled Dayne to sit up.

"And to heal, you must first wash."

With one solid push, Dayne was dumped into the river. Becca follow quickly after. She pulled her sputtered, startled friend to the surface and began to wash Dayne's wounds clean.

"Becca," Dayne tried to growl but it came out in a cough.

"No, you listen to me," Becca grabbed Dayne by either side of her face. "I love you and I know you love me. I saw, felt, the letters you carved into your bed. We are going to be together. Do you hear me? We are going to be free; together and free. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Dayne's heart raced as she heard the woman she loved proclaim their destiny.

"Good. So, here's the plan. We'll get you washed and dressed and you do what Varna tells you."

"That's a terrible plan," Dayne grinned and she leaned forward to steal a kiss. "You really love me, don't you?"

"With all my heart," Becca's solemn pledge stole the smile from Dayne's face.

"Really?" Dayne was dumbfounded.

"Yes."

"So, what do I need to do. How do I get away?" Dayne's voice cracked, "How can we be together?"

"You heal. Stay here and do as your told. Senecos won't beat you while you're injured. At least, I don't think he'll hurt you more while you're recovering. When you're strong enough, we run for the southwest hills. The Elosian Army is spread thin trying to encircle the nomads. We should, with a bit of luck, be able to avoid both the Elosians and the nomads and get to a port city on the other side. We'll trap game on the way for food and trade the pelts for a ship's passage."

"To where?" Dayne was fascinated with the fanciful tale.

"Athens, Crete, Rome, Gaul! Anywhere the Elosians are not the victorious, occupying army."

"Becca, it sounds so easy but what of the dogs of Waur. We'll be hunted by man, beast, and god. I can't let you risk your life like that," Dayne was adamant as she leaned into Becca's healing touch.

Becca let out an exasperated sigh. She shoved Dayne into deeper water and pushed her friend's head under the surface with a howl. Dayne came up gasping for air.

"What, what, why d'ya do that?"

"I know that you are Elosian," Becca wrapped her arms around Dayne's neck, "and I know you are ridded," Becca rubbed Dayne's head, "but I didn't know you were stupid."

"Hey," Dayne considered getting angry for a heart beat. "How do you know I'm ridded and what makes you think I'm stupid."

Becca laughed. She bury her face against Dayne's shoulder to keep her voice down. Still, her amusement bubbled forth in snorted bursts for several minutes.

Dayne's skin warmed under Becca's breath and she felt her humor return with the tender show of affection, "Okay, I am ridded but why do you think I'm stupid."

"You're stupid to believe in any god. They simply do not exist. Not the Elosian god or our gods or the Greek gods. They are only stories the strong tell to frighten the weak to enforce their will. Nothing more than half baked propaganda," Becca allowed herself to sample the pulse point on Dayne's neck and indulged in suckling the flesh.

"How can you say such a terrible thing?" Dayne shook the woman free as she looked around them for any eavesdropping god lounging in the sun along the river bank. "You speak blasphemy. They'll strike you down. Or worse, they'll curse your soul."

"Dayne, my love, my heart, I just said those things and look, no lightening, no hounds, no divine retribution. If there were gods then don't you think I'd be nothing more than smoke and ash at the moment?"

Dayne search the immediate area. No gods seemed to be paying any closer attention to Becca's heresy than a several moments before. In fact, what she said made some sense to Dayne's more reasonable nature.

"You don't believe in any god?" Dayne still needed a little more convincing.

"Dayne, if Waur and his hounds existed do you think Senecos would have been able to save you? How about all those nights you went hunting? Where were the hounds then?" Becca kissed each of Dayne's cheeks before speaking from her heart, "I promise you there is no god strong enough to keep us apart for all eternity."

"I'm going to believe only in you from now on," Dayne vowed as she embraced Becca.

"Good, because I'm all you will ever need to hold onto." Becca slid her hand beneath the water's surface to seal their commitment between Dayne's thighs.

PART 8

THE KISS WAS gentle and kind. It promised a world of pleasure but demanded nothing from Dayne in return. Becca was the most patient of lovers. She did not want to rush Dayne with her own desires. The dark haired woman's physical or emotional recovery was Becca's primary concern.

"We should be able to leave soon," Dayne ventured when they broke for a breath.

"You are healing, that's true. But your body's been through so much. I want to give you a few more days of rest. A day or two more won't hurt you none," Becca smiled as her fingers traced the fading bruises on Dayne's tanned face.

"I'm just worried about you," Dayne could not stop a tear from escaping. "You're taking such chances to come out here everyday. All you need is for your father or Milos to follow you and,"

"My father is a drunken bastard," Becca stated flatly. "If he somehow managed to follow me out here then he would probably break his own foolish neck trying to get back home. Dayne, I'm fine. Nothing is gonna happen to me," Becca stole another kiss. "You're gonna heal and then we'll be on our way."

Dayne nodded as Becca continued to kiss her tears dry. But, Dayne's heart ached with worry for her beautiful, blonde friend.

"I'd die if anything bad happened to you," Dayne let her tears run free and pulled Becca close. "You are all that I have left in this world. You are my only treasure, my only hope."

"Sssh, I'm okay, sssh, now. And, remember, I'm very careful. It's only a couple of days more before we'll both be away from here." Becca let out a little chuckle, "Unless, I don't get home to make breakfast and you don't start gather your kindling. Then there'll be Waur to pay for bein' lazy girls."

With that, Becca kissed Dayne one last time and hurried into the woods. There was a beaten path straight to Becca's father's back door. Becca did not linger long enough along the route home to notice the fresh boot prints sunken deep into the mud. She did, however, stop to retrieve the previously captured rabbit hidden in a box under the stairs.

She snuck soundlessly into the kitchen by the back door. The house was deathly quiet. Becca guessed everybody must still be sleeping. She killed then started to clean the rabbit she brought in with her.

"Where you been at, girl?" His voice, slightly slurred, boomed from behind her.

"I was getting breakfast," Becca tried to stay calm and kept her back to her father as she spoke.

"A rabbit, is it what ya got there? Mind tellin' me how you gotta rabbit to jump into your sack?" Her father belched loudly on the last word.

"I set a box trap and waited from dawn 'til just a few moments ago. I used grease from the griddle to draw him. Go on, feel him if you don't believe me," she turned and thrust the partially skinned backside under her father's nose. It was then she saw Milos and his two brothers sitting at the dining table in the next room. "Not good," Becca thought to herself. "This is definitely not a good start to the day."

"We do not believe you, Becca!" The voice of the Magistrate echoed from the doorway. "I, myself, saw you running back here from the woods just a few moments ago. Your rabbit friend has been awaiting your return for hours now in the box under the steps. So, tell us, where've you been at, girl? What crimes have you been up to in the woods?"

Milos and his brothers pounced on her before she could think of a lie. They dragged her into the room with the dining table and held her fast. Their fierce grips dug deep into her skin even with a cloth barrier of protection. Becca knew there would be bruises from their hold but she wasn't sure if she could limit her wounds to those alone.

"I went for a walk," Milos slapped her before she could finish the sentence.

Sobbing drew her attention to the upper level of the house. She could see her mother and three sisters frightened, huddled, and crying as they peered down at her.

"Mother, please, help me," another slap rattled her teeth and silenced Becca.

"Don't be bringing that fine woman into your sick web of lies, Becca," the Magistrate advised from the corner of the room. "You wouldn't want her hurt in our pursuit of justice."

Becca remained silent under the threat to her mother.

"Look, I told them what you been doin' out there! You been whorin' 'round town for a time now. So just go an' confess an' be done with it," her father demanded. "Let me be done with ya once and for all."

"Whore? What?" Becca's eyes went wide with his words. "Why would you lie like that about me?"

Grabbing her hair, Offan shook her roughly, "I told them ya serviced the Elosian soldiers. That ya no virgin! Not no more, ya ain't. There'll be no future proceeds for me from the like of ya kind. I'll be getting' no gold for ya to be married off. So, confess. CONFESS!"

Offan's fist smashed her square in the nose. Becca saw stars and light as she tried to stay conscious. Her body hung in mid air with the support of Milos' brothers.

"Dayne, you were right. It wasn't safe at all to wait," she thought as the Magistrate approached.

"We will get the truth from you. Have no doubts about it. Justice always triumphs in the end. Why not make the interrogation process easier on yourself? Confess your crimes, to me, now. Tell me the name or names of your men. Just give me their ranks if you didn't get all the names. Don't make me resort to so many unpleasant options I have available," The soft tone of the Magistrate did not disguise his disgust for her.

"If you are interested in justice then wouldn't you rather know the name of my rapist?" Becca spit a mouthful of blood at her father as she quietly accused him of the acts which haunted her dreams.

Offan lunged forward. He grabbed Becca by the throat and began to squeeze as he had done so many nights when she tried to scream about the pain he inflicted on her.

"Shut ya big, dirty mouth, whore!" Offan shouted.

Milos and the Magistrate managed to pull Offan away from Becca before he could do any serious damage.

"Behavior like that will get you nowhere in the interrogation, sir!" The Magistrate was clearly furious. "Boys, take her to the square. Place her in the cage for public display while she considers her choices."

"And,  what,  may I ask, are my choices?" Becca coughed against a dry throat demanding to know her fate.

"If you refuse to name your lovers, you will be sold off to the Elosians with the proceeds going to your father. Of course, the court will take a percentage to cover the costs of daily business. However, if you reveal your lovers' names, you will be forgiven your crime," the Magistrate smiled coldly. "Then you will be sold to the Elosians and your lovers will be executed or fined or both."

"You should've let him strangle me. It would have saved us both some time," Becca muttered as the angry men dragged her into the daylight to the town square and to a future beyond her worst nightmare.

*  *  *

Through blurred vision, Becca watched as the Widow Mavis approached the cage. Becca tried to count the number of meals she had prepared for the older woman. She tried to remember each night she had kept the fire burning in the hearth while Mavis slept off a fever. She tried to estimate the total buckets of water fetched day after day. It quickly approached an infinite number of neighborly acts over the years. The Widow drew closer and rummaged in the bag Becca had sewn for her last harvest.

Mavis produced an overripe tomato with a toothless grin before shouting, "WHORE!"

Rotting redness splashed all over the beaten, tethered prisoner. The filthy word shouted was worse than the foul projectile thrown, Becca decided. She did her best to wipe the juice off her cheek with her shirt sleeve. Chains stretching from once around her left wrist to twice around her throat to twice around her right wrist then back around the left and finally fastening to the cage floor limited her efforts. Becca held back any bitter comment. She learned earlier at the end of the guard's club that rebuttals to the Villagers' sentiments would not be tolerated.

Her friends and neighbors had eagerly raced to the cage when the Magistrate announced her crimes. They found all manner of sour food to hurl at her as they called for their form of justice. The Magistrate announced her sentenced and the mob howled for Becca's blood. Nobody, not even her own mother, spoke on her behalf. That's when she decided to try to beg them to listen to her side of the charges. Her dissent was not tolerated. The guards were brutally efficient with their feet and clubs in driving that point home. Becca gave up after the first few blows but the beating continued until she passed out. She woke in time to witness the good widow's betrayal.

Becca leaned her head back against the bars to rest. Her body did, indeed, ache from the beating. But, it was her heart that was truly broken. Dayne was lost to her. She would never see her lover again. How could she heal her heart without her only love. She drifted off with an unquenchable grief burning in her chest.

Hooves click clacking into the square woke her from the blackness of her despair. The Elosians had come. She was all finished, then. Becca knew her life was ending as the General trotted over to inspect the contents of the cage. His eyes traveled top to bottom then bottom to top before he reigned his horse over to the Magistrate and the gathering elders.

"How many?" General Felix snorted.

"Seven in the cells and the one in the cage, sir," the Magistrate stuttered slightly on his fear.

"Men?"

"Four of them, three women, and the one in the cage, sir."

"Why is that one separate?"

"She's from the Village. The others were gathered from the surrounding farms."

"The others are half blooded then?"

"Of course," the Magistrate appeared confused by the question.

The General raised his voice. "You think you'll get more for the blonde because she looks like your kind?!"

"Well, usually, the Village girls do get us a bit more, General," the Magistrate was sweating.

"She's a CRIMINAL! Otherwise, you fine folks wouldn't be putting her out with the trash. Isn't that right?" There was nodding among the elders. "What's her crime?"

"She's a whore."

The General spit at the Magistrate, "Then I get her for free!"

"What?" The Magistrate was speechless.

"If one of your own kind had her then you'd make him marry her. So, she must have been had by an Elosian for some price or other," the General smirked. "We've already paid for her."

"Bu,t," the Magistrate tried to form a thought.

"If you argue with me then I'll be forced to explain my logic with real live Village virgins and soldiers as examples. Do you want me to explain? Or should I just take the whore off your hands?" The General's horse snorted at the Magistrate.

"Take her, please, just take her," the Magistrate spoke in a hoarse, broken whisper.

"Good choice," General Felix winked. "Linemen, gather the slaves and lets get back to camp!"

Becca smirked at the distraught Magistrate as the soldiers pulled her from the cage. They left the chains in place and tied her in line with the other prisoners with a short rope.

"At least, he's not gaining anything from sending me away. That's some small consolation," she thought to herself.

"I always knew you were worthless," Becca recognized her father's voice calling as she was lead away for her home for the last time.

PART 9

DAYNE WAS WORRIED about Becca. In fact, she was almost panic stricken. It had been five days since she had last seen her lover. She was certain she had to act if she was ever going to see her love again. Waiting in the tall grass behind Becca’s house, Dayne clutched the string tied to a dead rabbit by both her dirty, manacled hands. She was waiting for Becca’s sister, Charis, to come outside in search of food. She had heard the muffled cries of the girls and their mother over the last few days as she waited, hidden behind the grass, for some sign of Becca. Certain their tears were from hunger, Dayne wanted nothing more than to just bring them a couple of rabbits or a fish but the risk of getting caught in the daylight hours was too high. On the third day of Dayne’s vigil, Charis had bravely ventured outside to search the waste barrel for some forgotten scrap of food. Dayne made a soft sound like a downed bird hoping the girl would be smart enough to seek easy prey. Instead, a terrified Charis ran back inside the shuttered house.

“Please let today be different. Let me have a little luck,” Dayne silently prayed to Senecos’ forbidden gods. “I’ll get her to come close by pulling on the string and moving the rabbit. When she’s close enough, I’ll let her know it’s me. Maybe then I can find out where Becca is.”

Once the sun was high and Offan went off to beg a drink or even work for one, Charis snuck out into the yard again. Dayne remained silent, hoping her plan would work this time. She tugged the string and the rabbit appeared to hop. Charis spotted the movement immediately. Crouching low, the girl crept toward the bait. Dayne made it hop again. Charis crept a bit closer. She stopped cold when she spotted the string.

“By Waur’s tears,” Dayne cursed to herself, “nothing ever goes easy for me.”

Diving forward, Dayne managed to tackle Charis. The girl struggled but she was no match for the half blood. Her cry for help was cut off when Dayne clamped her hand around Charis’ mouth.

“No, no, no, don’t scream, please don’t scream. It’s me. It’s Dayne. I’m Becca’s friend. You know me, right?” She was pleading with the back of the girl’s head. “I use to carry you to town on my shoulders when your Dad still had the shop. Remember? Do you remember me?”

The girl nodded slowly. Dayne pulled Charis backward into the tall grass before releasing her hold on the child.

“Why’re you chained?” Charis asked as she stared Dayne’s chaffed and bruised wrists.

“I’m, ah…, my fath…, um, I mean sometimes…, families…, ah,” Dayne kept her eyes focused on her hands trying to hold back her bitter tears. She decided to tell the truth of her captivity, “I was bad. The men took everything away from me. I’m a slave now.”

“That’s what happened to Becca. They made her a slave ‘cause she was bad,” Charis shook her head solemnly. “Papa gave her up to be sold away ‘cause she was whorin’ and not clean goods no more.”

“What? How could…,? When did they…?” Dayne could feel her heart shattering beyond repair as she, unsuccessfully, tried to form a complete thought.

“It was the last time we ate. Becca brought in a rabbit. Papa and the Magistrate were waitin’ on her. They said she was out whorin’ around. They ask’n to know with who. Becca wouldn’t tell ‘em notin’ ‘bout it. So, they sold her to the Elosians.” Charis looked back over her shoulder toward her yard and the deliciously dead animal laying in the grass, “Dayne, can I have that rabbit for our stewin’?”

“Huh? What? Oh yeah, take it,” Dayne was sickened by the mere mention of food.

“Oh, boy, Momma and the girls will be so happy with me. I’ll probably get the biggest servin’ since I caught it. Are rabbits really hard to catch, Dayne? Maybe you could teach me the way you showed Becca? ‘Cause I’m the oldest, what with Becca bein’ gone.” Charis babbled on about hunting for several heartbeats.

“Charis, do you understand what’s happened here? Becca’s gone. The Elosians have taken her away. You’ll never get to see her again. She’s been stolen from us and we’ll never be able to find her again,” Dayne’s grief was barely under control enough to speak. “She is lost to us forever. We’ll never get her back.”

“Find her? Get her back?” Charis’ eyes went wide, “Why would we want her? She’s bad, Dayne. She gave herself to men, Elosian Soldiers, and cost Papa his money due for her bein’ clean goods. He wouldn’t get no price for a used girl. ‘Specially, not a girl the soldiers had. Becca good as stole money from Papa and us.”

“How can you talk about her like that? She kept you safe and warm and well fed. How can you pretend she doesn’t matter to you?” Dayne eyed the girl suspiciously.

“Papa told us the truth! Papa said, ‘cause Becca’s a bad girl, that’s why she’s gone. Papa said, no worthless, soldiers’ whore would be sleepin’ in his house. Didn’t matter, no matter at all, what she did for us before. He told us, it was all the worse than her just spreddin’ herself for foreign men. She was tryin’ to split our family up against him by bringing home food for us. Food caught by filthy Elosian soldiers. Better to starve, he said, than to eat spoilt food from them Elosians.”

Dayne stared at the young girl in disbelief. Charis believed her father’s tales completely. Every kind act Becca had performed to date was negated by her father’s hateful words and unproven claims.

“I don’t wanna talk no more. I wanna go home. Can I go now?” Charis whined slightly.

Dayne nodded. She was unable to find any argument suitable to change Charis understanding of the situation. So, she let the girl walk back to her home and the story she believed about Becca.

“Maybe it hurts her less to believe such terrible lies,” Dayne considered as she dragged herself to her feet. “But, what will make my ache hurt any less? What can ease my pain?”

Dayne knew instantly what she needed. Revenge! Retribution from those pious villagers who condemned both Becca and her to an isolated life of slavery. To act on her desire for vengeance, she understood, would mean the forfeiture of the rest of her life.

“Without Becca by my side, I’d end up hanging myself anyway,” she muttered as she went deeper into the woods to gather supplies for her retaliation.

*  *  *

The Elosian Soldiers leading the slaves to camp were not particularly brutal nor overly kind. They were simply soldiers completing a mission. If orders were given and obeyed then the trip went smoothly for the captives. If orders were given and ignored or were not achieved then punishment was dispensed as they felt appropriate.

Becca made sure to do exactly as the soldiers instructed. She kept her eyes down and mouth shut. Becca’s beating at the hands of untrained villagers was enough to convince her she did not want to receive the same treatment from professionals.

In return for her passive acceptance of their authority, several soldiers made sure she was fed and given water periodically during the journey. They did not remove the chains that bound her but, instead, instructed the slave nearest to Becca to feed her.

“By Waur, terrifying and ferocious, there it is! Men, we have arrived!” A horse mounted soldier near Becca announced on the morning of the fifth sunrise since they left the village. “I don’t think an outpost camp ever looked so good me!”

“Oh Denys, are you losing your sensibilities?” An older soldier called back in a light tone.

“No, he hasn’t. He’s just in love!” Soldiers all around erupted in laughter and whistles at the pronouncement from the midst’s of the linemen.

“His wedding celebration is scheduled for two moons after our return. Isn’t that right, Denys?” Another voice questioned.

Hearty laughter from the surrounding soldiers almost drowned out Denys reply, “It is and rightly so! I’m almost twenty plantings this spring. I’m almost too late to the banquet table. A wild celebration is in order, my friends. Think about it! A solid day of indulgence. FOOD! DRINK! And now slaves to enjoy! This will be the biggest feast our division has ever seen.”

“When is your breeding leave, Equestrian?” A strong voice called out from the rows linemen.

“Ten moons before a chance to try for my son! The first born son of my own line. And I predict it to be a very long line, indeed. Pray that my woman is strong enough to bare a son each spring or I’ll have the hide off her back,” The horse soldier’s snorted laughter was obnoxious.

Becca felt dirty listening to the casual banter about the soldier’s planned intimate habits with his future wife. Apparently, Elosian women did not fair much better than the women of Becca’s village. She heard stories of their marriage tradition. Elosian’s excluded the bride from the ceremony. Her presence would distract from the purpose of marriage; create more soldiers. Weddings were festivals for the men to bond and promise each other the creation of sons to fill the army ranks. The soldiers would revel for a day of food, drink, and sensual pleasures. Officers and members of the groom’s party would have their choice of slaves, linemen, and each other for sex. No body had the right to say ‘no’ during a nuptial celebration. And the only people not invited to participate was the bride and her family.

The soldiers’ remarks quieted first then stilled when the solid wooden gates to the encampment opened. Noises and smells from beyond the high fortress walls seemed to race out to greet them. The sour warmth of unwashed men surrounded and embraced them. Mounted soldiers hurried their rides ever so slightly and the linemen prompted the slaves to step up the pace. In spite of Elosian confidence in their fighting skills, none of them were ready to expose the heart of their division to an attack.

Becca scrambled to keep up. The chains looped around her neck and binding her hands behind her back weighed heavily on her; choking back the last of her strength. Coupled with her fatigue and hunger, it was enough to throw her off balance. She fell after crossing into the camp.

“On your feet, slave,” the soldier’s order was punctuated with a whip strike.

Becca cried out when her skin broke open under the cruel leather blow. She struggled to get to her feet but her tired body could not respond fast enough to meet the soldier’s demand.

“Up now!” Another crack tore another welt across her tender, fair skinned back. “Waur above, you villagers bleed so easy. Come on, girl! Get up! I said, get up!”

The third blow drove Becca back down into the dirt. She curled in a ball trying to protect her face. The rope connecting her to the rest of the cringing slaves pulled taut and dug into her waist. The lash stung her a forth time but, weak as she was, she unable to do anymore than scream out her pain to any who would listen.

“LINEMAN, get that slave out of the way! We need to close the gate,” the deep voice seemed familiar to Becca.

“She won’t get off her ass. Lazy villager,” another whip strike followed the frustrated words.

“For the love of Waur, do I have to do of everything myself?” Strong but gentle hands pulled Becca a few feet further into the camp before lifting her to stand. “Becca?” The name was whispered in a question.

Becca inched her gaze upward for the first time in days. The soldier holding her was Reuben. She wanted to smile at him but she was too hurt, too weak, too frightened. She nodded slightly to reply.

Reuben covered his surprise quickly. His face became a stoic mask, “Lineman Petras, get these slaves to the pen for processing. I want you to personally see to it this girl’s wounds are treated well. If we lose money because of your bad temper then the difference comes out of your month salary! Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir! Right away, Sir,” Lineman Petras saluted before waving the slaves to move toward a large cage in the center of camp. “You heard Lineman Reuben. Now get moving.”

*  *  *

The Magistrate chuckled slightly at Milos’ bad joke. On a personal level, the Magistrate despised the young man’s arrogance and over confidence. However, Milos’ growing popularity with the more conservative, older villagers was something of a concern. As a politician, the Magistrate understood Milos could not be crossed at this point if one wanted to maintain a healthy career and to live a long life.

“Humor him, humor the boy,” the Magistrate thought as he grinned back at Milos’ guffaws. “He’ll make a mistake and then they’ll turn on him like a pack of wild dogs at a picnic.”

“Go on, Abel, tell what happened next,” Milos encouraged his older bother to speak. Abel was the brawn; the strong arm of Milos’ group.

“Well, then, we’z got him see, and that there Bowman be beggin’ us to stop. To not hurt him none more. Like he done nothin’ wrong to no’on or such there is” Abel gave a toothy grin. “So’s I axed him on the spot! Right then, right there.”

The young men following Milos erupt in uncontrolled laughter and cheers. The Magistrate gave a half smile to the group. In his heart, though, he was sickened at the tale of unrestrained vigilante justice.

“Perhaps, if this occurs in the future, you could bring the accused back for a trial,” the Magistrate weakly offered.

“He was dead, dead, dead. What’s da use of a trial be?” Abel appeared to be confused.

“He means before we kill him, Abel. Right?” Milos eyed the Magistrate in a challenge.

“It is the rule of law and not my rules, boys,” the Magistrate felt himself break out in a cold sweat under their gaze.

“Then maybe the rule of law needs to be looked at,” Milos shot back. “My men found that sheep stealing Bowman out in the caves. We dealt with him. End of story.”

“I understand your version of the story but nobody proved the claim against Bowman. Nobody even tried to prove it. All we had was one man’s word against the other man’s word. We need more proof than one man’s word against another man’s. It’s not open and shut like with an accused woman,” the Magistrate was shaking a little as he explained the finer points of their legal system.

“Da deep blue sea it ain’t! My friend, Rosh, says Bowman stolin’ then he did! My friend’s words worth more than another man’s word,” The group behind Abel shouted their support his position.

Before the Magistrate could speak again, an arrow planted itself in the mud a hare’s length from his toes. Skewered on the arrow was a stinking skunk’s pelt.

“What in the gods’ names is that?” Milos shrieked as the odor tweaked his nose.

A second arrow pierced the skin of Milos’ calf. The man fell over, howling in pain. His men initially stepped closer to help him but backed off when they saw another skunk pelt wrapped around the arrow shaft sticking out of the wounded man’s leg.

“Don’t just stand there! Help me, you jackasses!” Milos cried like a boy, “Get me to my mother!”

Before anybody could move or answer, two more arrows struck on either side of the downed man. Both arrows carried foul skunk pelts. The stench was formidable.

“Help!” Milos shouted to his retreating comrades as stench bearing arrows began to reign down on the village square.

*  *  *

“Who cut you?” General Felix asked as he relaxed on his bedding dressed in only his short leather battle skirt.

“My maaaz tah,” replied the terrified slave standing naked in the generals command tent.

“Why?”

“Said it would make me cravin’ lessen. Not want girls as much. Keep me action down.”

“Did it work?” The General sneered as he stood.

“Nopes. It did nothin’ I can tell, Sir. I gots his daughter with a baby,” the slave kept his tear filled eyes on the general’s approaching feet.

“So, I guess your right, it didn’t work.” The general grabbed the slave by the throat and forced him on his knees, “You are half Elosian but you let a villager, a lesser man than us, cut your pride. He sliced you like a sick bull out at pasture. At least, tell me you tried to fight him off. You did fight him, right? Did you have to be held down by fifty men? By twenty men? How about ten men? NO! Didn’t think so. I’ll bet, your Master didn’t even need to tie you to a post. Did he?”

“No, sir. He said hold it out and I did. Hurt like you don’t know what ‘cause the knife was hot. He told me it was a good thing for me. I’d never cause no problem again.”

“Moron! If you’ve not the courage or brains to save your own dick then your life is already lost!” The general took his knife and gutted the slave. “Toss this carcass to the hogs.”

Becca watched in total silence. Before being lead to the general’s tent, all the slaves had been stripped and washed. They were paraded, naked and unfettered, once around the room before the general waved them up to his sleeping area individually. So far, two were slaughtered, three were separated for sale in Greece, and two were sent to the troop quarters for entertainment purposed.

“Last one, General,” the soldier saluted smartly as Becca stepped closer to the soft pillows and blankets which made up the bedding.

“Oh yes, the village whore! Come closer and turn around that I might see your delights,” the general smiled.

Becca walked within a foot length of the general’s bedding before turning to show her abused body. She kept her eyes down and face blank as she suffered the review of her wares.

“Who whipped you?” the general’s question seemed even enough; it lacked accusation.

“A soldier, Master. I did not move fast enough or far enough for the gate to close,” Becca’s throat felt raw and voice sounded scratchy.

“So, the marks are your own fault? The scars which will cost me a hefty some, are because you were slow?”

“Yes sir. My fault. I was slow so I’m to blame. Please, make my death as quick as the last slave’s death.”

“Ha, in a hurry to die? Your kind always confess in hopes of reaching the end of their struggles. But, I think I have need of your services still,” the general’s smug expression sent chills down Becca’s spine. “Soldier, see to it that she’s branded. I want her marked as my own. Have her collared and chain her to a spike grounded here in my tent. Give her enough room to reach my bedding and the overnight pot.” General Felix smiled broadly, “That’s all the room she’ll need for some time.”

PART 10

REUBEN WAS SO tired even his hair hurt. He had been on command watch for more than two suns. His relief finally arrived just after the third break of daylight. Too tired to either bath or eat, he trudged to his tent in search of sleep.

"Reuben! First Lineman, wait up," a hesitant voice stammered from behind him.

"Oh gods, what now," he sighed.

"Reuben, sir, General Felix will see you immediately, sir," the bottom lineman, really no more than a boy, announced with all the authority he could muster in front of the intimidating officer.

"Damn it!" Reuben cursed quietly before acknowledging the lineman with a curt nod.

Stomping back toward the General's command tent, Reuben went through a hundred arguments why he should not be given the responsibilities Felix had in store for him. It was always the same approach. General Felix, Reuben's uncle, would wait until the younger man was bone tired or bored to the point of insanity with the repetitiveness of military life. Then Felix would ply him with wine and promises of an adventurous life. Greatness was one small word away; yes. All Reuben had to do was accept his uncle's adoption and renounce his own birthright.

"Sir, at your order, sir," Reuben shouted from the entrance to the command tent.

"Enter," a short, gasping grunt responded back.

Reuben entered and assumed a rigid stance. His eyes watered from the smoky interior and dim candle light. The General was face down in his bedding. He was obviously driving into somebody hidden in the pillows and linens beneath him. Felix snorted as his climax approached. With a hardy shout, his whole body rose, trembled violently, and fell hard. His husky pants were the only breaths to be heard.

"At ease. I need moment more, my boy," Felix rested heavily on more than the soft fabrics.

"At your order," he sighed softly but did not relax his stance.

"Please, sit," The General spoke as he struggled out of the bedding. "There's some strong grape in the skin. Pour us both a mug."

Happy to have a task, Reuben went to the skin sitting on the low eating table. He found two mugs and poured more in Felix's than his own. He sat in the fur pelts on the far side of the table. It was his training never to be caught with his back to a door or a slave when drinking.

"Thank you for joining me. I find myself weary for home and family more often, these days," the General's voice was wet with phlegm.

He donned a half robe around his waist before approaching the eating area. The General's hard body was drenched in sweat and it glistened in the candle light. The pungent smell of semen linger around him like perfume for the dead.

"For home and family," The General saluted.

Reuben mumbled agreement and half raised his mug in reply before downing a mouthful of the bitter wine.

The General took a big swig from his mug before stating, "We need to talk, my boy."

"Regarding," Reuben ventured but was interrupted by hoarse sob from the bedding.

"Well, I'm bound for the villa. Pia has been busy preparing it. She is trying to make a small portion of this inhospitable land presentable for my arrival. After years in Waur's service, I'll have my own oasis in Hell. Still, after all my devotion to our way of life, there are enemies waiting for a chance to pounce. I've learned, confidentially of course, several Legislative members are planning to visit Pia unannounced. These legislators are far too liberal for my liking. Let's say, between you and me, it would not do for me to be away when they came to inspect my private holdings in an occupied territory."

Reuben slowly nodded his assent.

"My trip, however short, has started me thinking again about my legacy. I've no heir. No son to pass my command to when the fight is done for me. My wife's family produced nothing but girls. Sniveling weaklings let them all live too!" The General flashed a sudden grin, "But, my pacifist baby brother sires a son; a strong, bright, courageous warrior. You know, a child like you should have been mine in the first place."

Reuben politely smiled even though his heart drummed a death march for the man sitting across from him, "My father's a diplomat. His battles are waged differently than ours but it makes him no less Waur's servant. As for me, you always said, I'm my mother's bastard."

"Aggh, has that come back to haunt me now? I knew your Greek bitch Mother would interfere with family matters from the moment your father announced his plans for a political marriage," Felix tossed his hands in the air before taking a long draw directly from the wine skin. "Your father has a fragile mind. He fell under her influence from the very beginning. Greek gods, Greek house, even a Greek education over Elosian fighter training. And, you were nothing but a child; her pawn. How could you know difference? How could you know what was at stake?"

"My soul was at stake," thought Reuben. "Still," he cleared his throat, "I agreed with them then and I still agree with them now. Greek education has serious advantages over our basic combat training. Uncle Felix, even you must admit, I'm a better fighter than any man on my squad."

A whimper from the bedding brought Reuben to his feet with sword in hand. He prepared his whole life to protect Waur's land and way of life. Which meant he had to defend his general's life at all costs.

"Relax, my boy, sit down," The General laughed with a sudden cough, "she just crying because I'm gone. She must miss my stiff meat stuffed between her tender thighs!"

"Right."

Reuben agreed without hearing the words spoken. He had caught site of the abused body in the bedding. Her blonde hair and pale skin made her different from the other slaves brought into the camp. But, it was the memory of her defiant stance in defense of a friend that made Reuben remember her; Becca.

The General's voice interrupted his thoughts, "You know, you're right. You are the best fighter I have on the entire peninsula. But, that's because we are descended from Waur himself. No amount of foreign blood can dim our bloody heritage."

Reuben sulked in his seat. He could not argue the point. His father's Elosian blood made him a perfect soldier. His mother's Greek heritage gave him the intelligence to know killing comes to no good end for both sides of the quarrel.

"I've committed to military service. I'll fulfill my obligation but," Reuben deepened his voice to show his resolve, "the diplomatic branch is my birthright. I'll finish here and return home,"

"Home, hah," Felix mocked him. "You mean, you'll continue to live in Athens among your mother's people. Reuben, you are an Elosian. Descended directly from Waur himself. It would do you well to think on that and remember who your family really is."

The two men sat in silence. Reuben knew enough to drop his gaze. Letting his Uncle see the depth of his hatred for him would be a mistake with so many moons left to serve in hostile lands. Anything could happen to a first lineman.

Felix began to laugh, "Look at us. So serious. Enough about the future, let's talk about now. There seems to be an insurrection in the village. The Elders estimate between twenty and thirty men."

"Have they taken control?"

"No, they have the villagers pinned down. Well, some of the villagers," the General laughed loudly and slapped his naked thigh. "Women and children, even the animals move around freely. However, when the men try to step outside their homes, arrows wiz around there heads. Very precise shooting so I'm told."

"Injuries," Reuben was secretly pleased the pompous village men were being taught a lesson.

"A wounded leg and a lot of soiled leggings," the General chuckled until tears filled his eyes. "Quite comical."

"How did we find out?"

"Our soldiers, it seems, also move about as they please. They dispatched a rider with a the message on the second day of the siege," Felix smirk. "Messenger bird arrived this morning to confirm the arrows continue to fly and frighten the poor village men."

"What would you have me do, sir?"

"Take a dozen men. Round up the band and confiscate the weapons. Bring anything interesting back and burn the rest. As for the insurrectionists," the General sighed, "even as witty as they are we must deal swiftly to quell their legend. Burn them in the village square. Make attendance mandatory. But, I want the leader. Bring him, unharmed, in heavy chains to me at the villa. I might be able to utilize that kind of talent. Besides, it will give you a chance to see Pia again."

"At your order, sir," Reuben rose to leave but Felix motioned for him to return to his seat.

"You're rightly exhausted. Take two days rest before you depart. In fact," the General rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "take my tent today. I'm heading for the practice fields and then to the baths. There's wine, lunch will be delivered, and there's a comfort slave in the bedding. Enjoy my riches for the day. It is the least I can offer to tempt you," Felix smirked as he stood.

"I don't know, the village," Reuben blushed.

"I do know! Consider it an order," Felix slapped Reuben lightly across the cheek. "Enjoy my greatness."

"At your order," Reuben whispered as he stared at the body trembling in the bedding.

*  *  *

Dayne stifled a cry. The broken wounds on her hands burned as she urinated on them. When she finished, she caked mud over the palms hoping to toughen the skin.

She'd built a multiple arrow launcher in order to terrorize the village. However, the string triggering mechanism cut deeply into the soft flesh of her hands. It was a small price to pay she decided. Dayne willed herself to suffer through the pain for all the joy she was getting from scarring those arrogant men.

"Not enough suffering for them," she mumbled as she loaded another round of arrows in the launcher. "Not for what they did to Becca," tears tracked a well worn path down her cheeks.

Dayne pulled back hard on the string and set the safety. She would wait, patiently, for another fool to cross her path.

*  *  *

Reuben removed his weapons. He laid them neatly on the low table. Next he stripped off his leather armor vest and battle skirt. His boots were last to be removed. Clothed only in his rough tunic, he felt vulnerable. Naked would suit him better but he feared it would frighten Becca.

He moved to the end of the bedding with all the stealth he usually reserved for covert missions. Reuben wanted to assess the situation before the woman realized he was watching her.

Her body sported bluing patches of skin and splashes of blood. Becca lay with her eyes closed but tears flowed freely down her cheeks. A metal collar was fixed around her neck and chained to a spike midway to the chamber pot. It was already worrying the skin beneath it causing redness. The General's brand over her right breast lay raw and untended. Becca's breathing was coming in short, rapid pants indicating sore or broken ribs or maybe a bruised throat.

"Or maybe she's just afraid," Reuben shook his head sadly.

Becca heard the quite remark and her eyes squeezed more tightly closed as her body curled into a ball.

"Please, Master, no more. It hurts, please, mercy. I hurt too much, please, just kill me," she sobbed.

"Hush now," Reuben dropped into the linens and rested his hand on her forehead. "Fever. You need water and to get cleaned up."

He didn't wait for Becca to respond. Reuben went around the tent gathering the supplies to treat the woman. Once he found them all, he took the General's finest cloth robe and tore several strips off the bottom. Setting the clean but ruined garment aside, he returned to Becca.

"Here, I need you to lay flat so I can wash you down," he tried to keep his voice gentle.

"Please, don't hurt me, no more," Becca mumbled as she drift into unconsciousness.

"No, I won't hurt you," Reuben sniffed. "Such a waste. Such a pointless pursuit hurting a woman."

Reuben yawned a bit before beginning the slow process of cleaning and bandaging Becca's many injuries. It would be another day before he would find his rest.

PART 11

REUBEN PUSHED HIS horse to the limit of the beast's endurance. He was eager to locate the insurgents disrupting the village. Once they were contained and his mission was completed, Reuben planned to request time away. A brief break from the trauma of Waur's battles. He could travel home to Greece or east to his father's family home. Anywhere off the peninsula would be a suitable respite.

Arrows crossed his path in a rush of wind no more than a dozen paces forward of his position. Reuben and his team drew their mounts to a halt. They watched as the arrows landed in the village square. Villagers screamed as they scrambled for safety. Several breaths later another round of arrows passed overhead.

Reuben saw them coming this time. He was able to trace their journey back to a thick cluster of trees. A heavy veil of green covered a nearby hill. He was certain it also hid the sniper's nest. Swinging down from his mount, Reuben signaled his party to continue to ride into the village. He took off in a dead run toward the trees. Reuben decided to circle around behind the insurgents' lair to bring an end to the siege himself.

"And, all done without the need to set foot in that nasty village again," Reuben thought to himself with a smirk. "The whole place is filled with classless drunks and bullies."

Another rush of air told him another round of arrows had been fired. He doubled his pace hoping he could prevent a fourth round of volleys. His men were now in the line of fire. If harm came to even one of them, Reuben would not allow himself to spare the insurgents even the smallest of mercies.

A rough thinning of trees gave way to a small clearing. Reuben saw a lone fighter manning a chest high wooden structure. He heard the singing of the bow string as the hunched figure drew it back.

"Damn those arrows," he cursed to himself.

Reuben hurried his effort to tackle the insurgent before the bow was released. The advantage of surprise was lost with a twig snap. Although, Reuben was never really certain what gave his position away. The hunched figure drew up to full height and turned in one fluid movement. She leveled a flat, wooden bow like devise with a viscously sharp stone tipped arrow loaded into it, directly at his heart.

Reuben fell back on his tracks and cried out his shock at the person standing before him, "DAYNE?"

She nodded slowly. Reuben took what he believed to be the last few moments left to his life to consider the woman standing before him prepared to kill him. She had lost weight since he last saw her. Dayne's sunken cheeks and haunted eyes somehow made her appear more menacing than the strange weapon in her hand and the one behind her. Her clothes and body were filthy. She was covered with dirt and animal blood. The horrid stench of skunk lingered in the air and brought tears to Reuben's eyes. He would always wonder if the tears weren't really due to his fear.

Slowly, she lowered the weapon. Dayne shot the arrow into the ground at her feet. Then she dropped the wooden launcher next to it. She raised her hands above her head and kicked the weapon away from her.

"I've been waiting for you, Reuben. What took you so long?" She gave him a half smile but there was no humor in it.

"Wha, what, what are you talking about?" Reuben climbed to his feet but kept his distance from the woman.

Dayne dropped to her knees. In part, it was to surrender but it was also from complete exhaustion.

"I want an end to this miserable existence but there are few who'd give me a dignified death. Reuben, as a soldier of Waur, please honor me with an Elosian death," Dayne quietly requested.

Reuben was mute. He struggled with his emotions. He wanted to help the woman kneeling before him. A woman who looked so much like his own kin that he could briefly forget how far he was from home. But, he was a soldier and there were orders to be followed without question. Reuben approached Dayne and pulled her hands in front of her. He bound them with one of many leather thongs hanging from his belt.

"On your feet. I've been ordered to bring you before General Felix. Perhaps, he will give you the death you seek," Reuben spoke without listening to the words.

"You could do it here and now. Why wait? Why not get it over with?" she pleaded.

"And, why not do it yourself? If it's death you want then take the matter into your own hands? Why risk capture? Why risk prison? Why invite a torturous end?" Reuben was beside himself as he dragged her back down the path he had raced up only moments before.

"I've lived my whole life as a shame to my mother. I won't seek the further indignity of suicide. Is it too much to want my death to have meaning; to be honorable?" Dayne asked in desperation.

"Yes," Reuben acknowledged as he whistled for his soldiers to return, "it's too much to ask." He wished he could plunge his short blade deep into Dayne's heart but her fate waited at the end of General Felix's sword.

*  *  *

General Felix followed the houseman into the greeting room of the villa. It was his first visit to his own home. The General stopped along the way to examine archways above the doors and marble inlays in the floors.

"Mistress Pia, the Master has returned home," the short, fair skinned houseman announced.

"If the truth be told, Abel, the Master has arrived, not returned," Pia corrected the slave as she crossed the room to greet her husband. "My Lord, welcome. I hope you are pleased with the villa."

Pia dropped to her knees and bowed her head. She waited for the General to permit her to stand. Long moments passed. She began to worry he was displeased with the home she created for him.

"Not exactly as I planned but a fair effort, I suppose. Get up, woman. I didn't come all this way to stare at the top of your head." He snorted back a laugh, "In fact, I don't want to see the top of your head unless your mouth is full of me."

Pia stood but kept her eyes down, a trace of a smile crossed her thin lips. A slight blush colored her cheeks. She gave a subtle hand gesture which sent the houseman scurrying out of the room.

"My Lord, I've arranged a feast for you. Won't you come and enjoy the baths so that you might dine at your leisure?"

"Baths? Did you think of that feature? I don't remember drawing them up in the plans," the General stepped closer to his wife and chains rattled behind him.

"You requested the addition after your trip to Rome last season. You sent a designer here. Lorenzo. I believe his name was Lorenzo, my Lord," Pia answered quickly to avoid angering Felix.

"Yes, oh yes, that's right," the General laughed. "I remember now. Hope he did a good job. The one's he designed in Rome were spectacular. That's very good, then. I'll head to the baths while you see to my dinner and this little package."

General Felix stepped to the right. The rattle of chains followed each foot step as somebody behind him tried to stay behind him.

"NO!" He shouted and shoved the girl away from him and in front of Pia, "Stand still so your Mistress can see you."

Pia raised her eyebrows at the arrival of a slave girl. The shivering blond was dressed in a ripped and torn robe that once belonged to the General. She was chained from neck to wrists to ankle as if she were some violent prisoner. Her hair was a mess and she kept her face turned to the ground. Still, Pia could see enough to understand the girl was bruised, bloody, and broken.

"What is this?" Pia asked as she casually strolled around the girl. "A gift for me, perhaps?" Pia chuckled.

"Ah, in a way. She's a slave from one of the villages. I thought she could warm my bed on chilly nights but the idiot just lays there under me completely motionless. No joy, no tears, no thrill. I want you to do something with her. You know, try to make some use of her," he shrugged. "If you can't then kill her and be done with it."

Pia's chuckle grew to a full laugh, "See darling, this is why you usually leave the purchases to me."

"Come here," Felix grabbed his wife and pulled her into a fierce embrace. "I've missed you. You better be ready to entertain me when my meal is done. No substitutes tonight," his cheeks flushed with a growing passion. "Your husband is home, woman."

"And, you best be ready for me. I'll not be satisfied with your usual one time, one position 'til morning. You'll fulfill your duties soldier or there'll be Waur to pay," Pia hushed in Felix's ear.

"Ah, yes," the General was painfully aroused, "where's that houseman? Abel, Abel, get back here and show me to the baths?"

The Master of the villa released his hold on his wife with a wink. He hurried to find some privacy, leaving the two women alone in the cold marble room.

"Well, let me see about you. Do you have a name?" Pia sighed as she circled the slave again.

The only response was trembling.

"Are you hurt?"

Nothing but shaking.

"Can't you talk? Here, let me have a closer look at you," Pia grabbed the girl's chin and forced her head up.

Bruises and cuts covered cheeks and lips. A hard metal collar tore at the pale skin of the girl's throat rubbing it raw and opening wounds in some places. Even with her head tilted back, the girl kept her eyes averted. Pia frowned. The slave seemed too terrified to be of much good.

"LOOK AT ME!" Pia all but screamed.

The slave immediately obeyed.

"YOUR NAME! SAY YOUR NAME!"

"Becca," the reply was weak but understandable.

Pia smiled and began to pet the frightened girl, "Shh, there, see how nice I can be when you obey. It's good to be afraid but you mustn't let your fear keep you from obeying your masters' commands. Do you understand?"

Becca nodded first and then spoke, "Yes."

The unexpected slap was powerful. It knocked Becca down to her hands and knees. She swallowed back a cry of pain only to taste blood. Her stomach threaten to empty itself. She closed her eyes in an effort to will herself not to be sick.

"GET UP!" Pia shrieked.

Becca obeyed.

"LOOK AT ME!"

Becca obeyed.

"MISTRESS! I'm your MISTRESS and don't ever forget that. Can your simple mind grasp that tiny concept?"

Becca was beginning to understand the woman's game, "Yes, yes. I understand, yes, I understand you. I'm sorry, Mistress. I won't forget again, Mistress."

"Excellent!" Pia cooed as she gently stroked Becca's reddened cheek. "Your life will be much better when I'm not angry with you. It's better already. Isn't this better?"

"Yes, Mistress," Becca endured Pia's attention.

Pia loosened Becca's robe. She pulled it off one shoulder and then the other before letting it drop to the floor at their feet. Slowly, she circled the girl again inspecting the damage and assessing the potential. She made certain to keep soft physical contact the entire time; a caress to the shoulder, a squeeze of an ass cheek, gentle finger tips tracing the sensitive skin around her nipple, and ending with a light kiss on Becca's swollen lips.

"Your body tells all your secrets. You've been quite the handful. Whipped, beaten, raped, and I'll bet you were given very little food and water," Pia's voice was filled with compassion. "Tell me, did you fight him off? Did you give your Master trouble? Tell me so we can start over; a fresh new beginning for you."

Becca wanted to say no. She wanted to deny any wrong on her part. She had been taken from her home and lover and sold to the invading army. The General made sure to steal every last piece of dignity she had. She was the victim.

But, Becca understood Pia's question had a right and wrong answer which had nothing to do with the truth, "Yes, Mistress. I was willful. I troubled my Master. I'm sorry, Mistress. Please forgive."

Becca dropped to her knees at Pia's feet, "You're a fast learner, girl. I'll give you that much. It's a good thing too because I would have gutted you if you said no. So, let's get Abel to take you to the river and clean you up. You'll serve at the Master's dinner tonight. Who knows? I might even want you to entertain me after Felix falls asleep."

Pia walked away leaving a silently sobbing Becca on the floor.

PART 12

DAYNE SAT CHAINED by the ankle to a tree. She watched the soldiers setting up their evening camp. Each soldier did the same task each night and the process went along flawlessly. There would be no chatter until the tents were raised and food was on their plates. Then they would fall into a pattern of gossip and teasing like a group of old women.

"Here girl, chew on this while you wait," the cook offered her a piece of hard bread.

"Thank you, Vince," Dayne spoke softly so the others would not notice the cook's kindness to her.

Dayne gladly accepted the bread as she had every night of their journey. The cook took pity on her from the very beginning of the march. He knew how hungry she must be after a full day of walking and no food. The Soldiers carried trail rations and ate their noon meal without stopping. Dayne only ate if one of the soldiers shared with her and that didn't happen too often.

"We be havin' stew this night. Last meal's always a light meal," he noted as he returned to the cooking fire.

Dayne felt her appetite flee. The cook was preparing the last meal on the road. Tomorrow they would arrive at the General's Villa. Her execution would follow shortly after that, she imagined.

"He's right, it is my last meal," Dayne thought to herself as she examined the half eaten bread in her hands.

Even though she was ready to die the day Reuben found her, Dayne could not keep her fear of death at bay in the days since. Accepting the notion of ceasing to exist was getting more difficult with every footstep close to the General's Villa. Angry voices drew her attention away from her dark thoughts. Two soldiers began circling each other hurling the most vile words.

"You're your mother's son, Silas," one spat.

"With palms as soft as yours, I'd watch my mouth," the other countered.

"At least I'm able to keep my sword as straight as my erections,"

"That must be why it's rigid at our backs but wilts before the enemy," Silas interrupted and the surrounding soldiers began to whoop their support for the younger soldier.

A shove resulted. A sword was drawn. The laughter abruptly ended. Dayne's gaze was fixed on the two men standing toe to toe, sword to sword. Moments passed with only their breathing to be heard.

Silas dropped his gaze. He lowered sword and drove it into the ground between them. Turning his back to the other soldier, Silas went to his knees and bowed his head.

"I've wronged you, my brother in arms. Accept my sword and end my life as a soldier of Waur."

Dayne shivered as the other soldier sheathed his sword and pulled Silas' from the ground. He stepped closer to the kneeling man and raised the sword above the exposed neck. One quick jab ended the argument.

"Stand with me brother and take your weapon," the soldier helped Silas to his feet.

Dayne saw a bit of blood on Silas' neck. It was so little that Dayne guess the wound was small.

"Interesting show, huh?"

The voice behind her startled her. Dayne scrambled to the end of the length of her chains before turning to see who snuck up on her.

"Reuben," she sighed.

"Nervous?" He grinned.

"Of course," Dayne defend her reaction. "Last night to live can leave you a bit on edge."

Reuben let out a bellow of a laugh, "That's for sure. Perhaps, though, the situation doesn't need to be quite so dire."

"What are you talking about?" Dayne was intrigued but not entirely sure she could trust Reuben.

"Oh, I don't know. You should be afraid because the General might just execute you himself for all the trouble you caused us. We Elosians are not the forgiving sort. In fact, you just witnessed the only way to apologize and live. Every soldier is honor bound to accept an apology offered with a life. They will cut a small x on the back neck as their oath to let the matter end," Reuben squatted next to Dayne to explain the details.

Dayne questioned, "Honor bound to accept every apology offered with a life or just an Elosian's apology?"

"Every," Reuben smiled. "Unless there is no more room for an x."

The two chuckled at the thought. Reuben reached over and placed his hand on her shoulder. He gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"I can do no more than what I've done. Be respectful and submissive. I wish you the luck of your father's god. You are a child of Waur. Use that to your advantage for a change," Reuben whispered.

"I am Waur's child," there where tears in her eyes as she claimed her birthright.

*  *  *

Becca could feel the sweat trickling in steady rivulets over her straining muscles. It made the fresh wounds on her back sting like a flame against tender skin. She was left to kneel in the hot midday sun, holding a clay urn filled with water at arms length and at eye level. Every warble was met with shrieks of insults from Abel.

"Learn your lesson now, girl. Next time you'll show respect for your owner," the little man was smug. "When she touches you, you stand still and take it. No getting sick!"

A flush of color rose in Becca's cheeks that had nothing to do with the heat. Even the memory of Pia's advances threatened to turn Becca's stomach; the crude language, the rough hands, the biting. Becca's body rebelled against the assault in the only way it could, she wretched.

"You're lucky the Master was there to save you. Even luckier he thought it was funny. Mistress Pia would have been happier to beat you to death than transfer you to the kitchen. Try a stunt like it again and there will be no luck left to save you. Understand, stupid?" Abel kicked her in the belly.

Water and urn went flying in the air. Becca crumbled into a ball to protect herself. Water and clay shards rained down on her.

"Enough," Pia spoke in a weary voice.

"Mistress, I didn't know you were there," Abel's explanation was cut off with a wave of Pia's hand.

"Leave us. Get up, girl."

Becca stood immediately in spite of her pain. Her body ached to collapse but she stayed rock solid straight. She kept her eyes down.

"Look at me," Pia's demand was instantly met. "I'm curious. Why is a whore so fragile, so frightened, so faint of heart about sex? Why did your body deny its own skill in my arms? Tell me, do I repulse you?"

"N n no, no, not you, not you, me, I'm stupid, it was me, not you," Becca stammered.

She started to shake uncontrollably and began to wring her hands. She was certain Pia would beat her to death. The slap across the face was not unaccepted but not as hard as Becca anticipated.

"Calm yourself," Pia let out a great groan from the aggravation. "If you answer me honestly then I promise not to hurt you too much. I'll even give you the afternoon off to rest your battered bones. Would you like that?" Pia encouraged the correct response with a slow nod of her own head.

"Yes, Mistress. I would like that very much," Becca dutifully replied with only a hint of terror in her voice.

"Good. So, am I so old and haggard that the thought of my touch sickens you?" Pia stood with her hands on her hips tapping her foot as she waited for the slave to respond.

"No, Mistress. You are very beautiful," Becca blushed thinking how similar Pia looked to Dayne. The sight of her Mistress made Becca's longing for Dayne even greater. "One of the most beautiful women I've ever seen."

"Then why did you vomit all over me?" Pia snarled and balled her fist in anger.

"Hurt me," Becca cringed as she spoke. "You bit me. Hurt me. Said terrible things about my body. Told me what you were going to do to it. Scared me."

"You're a whore! That's how one talks to whores!" Pia raise her hand to strike. "Gets the juices flowing or so I'm told."

"Wait, Mistress, please. You promised," Becca fell to her knees and covered her face to deflect the slap.

"A promised sealed only if you told the truth. But, I think you're lying to me," Pia grabbed Becca by the hair and forced her head back to stare into her eyes.

"Not a whore. Raped. My father first. Then your husband. Now, you," Becca's tears streaked a clear path down her dirty face.

"You father?" Pia let go of Becca's hair and softened her tone. "He must be half of an ass. No man lays next to his daughter. To do so invites idiots into the family line," Pia was disgusted. "I'll order him castrated."

"Oh, gods," Becca doubled over and gagged.

"What now? I thought that would make you happy. Peasants, you just can't please them." Pia gave up, "Abel, Abel, get this ungrateful girl to her bed. Give her something to make her sleep. I don't want to see her until noon tomorrow. She'll serve at Reuben's homecoming."

Abel ran to do his Mistress' bidding.

*  *  *

Dayne frantically searched for a solution. She could not escape her captors. Their skills and numbers were far too great to overcome. Truth be told, she didn't want to run away from them or their food and comfort. Still, there was the possibility of a death sentence. Dayne was positive she wanted to live. She no longer prayed for an end to her days. She needed to perform the ritual she saw Silas complete the night before. But, where does an unarmed prisoner get a sword?

The Villa, which had been a speck on the horizon at sunrise was now looming before them. It was by far the largest dwelling Dayne had ever seen. White stone and marble stood like a mountain before her. Time was turning against her.

"Impressive isn't it?" The cook asked.

He stepped into place next to her in the column of marching men some time before the sun had taken over the sky above. He had even slipped her a slice of cheese and hard bread at midday. Nobody seemed to notice when he shared his water skin with her.

"It's unbelievable," Dayne whispered her reply. "The General must be very wealthy."

"Cunning is more the truth of it," the cook spit emphasizing contempt for his commander.

"You don't care much for his ways?" Dayne asked as she tried to stifle a giggle.

"No, I don't at all care for his ways. Not that I should be telling you such information," the cook grinned. "Don't want to be roasting my own behind, if you get my intent."

"You'd like to see him, embarrassed a bit then?" Dayne hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

"Well, let's say, the troops be wagering. Somes think you'll be skinned alive in front of their eyes. They be the General's boys. Somes think you'll find a way to save yourself. They be men like me. Ones that is able to still think," the cook winked at her.

Dayne smiled broadly at the man, "Your men might do well if there's a way for a prisoner to get a sword. It'll be returned bloodless, I promise." Acknowledging the potential for failure, Dayne added, "Well, some blood but it'll be all my own."

"Elosians are Elosians are Elosians. Not prisoners, not half bloods. Stand like an Elosian and ask a brother for a blade in Waur's name and your brother is honor bound to provide a spare if he has it," the cook slapped her on the ass and drifted back into the ranks of marching soldiers.

Reuben signaled for the procession to halt at the gates. Inside the courtyard servants hurried to open the gates and bid the soldiers welcome. Wine skins and sweet meats pressed between hard crusts of bread were handed to the men as they entered. Once inside the enclosed yard, the solid line of men staggered for shade with their drink and food.

"Welcome, I give you welcome to my humble home," General Felix entered the yard wearing only a leather skirt and a ceremonial sword at his hip. "At ease, at ease, take food and spirits at your ease."

Reuben took Dayne by the elbow and brought her to stand in front of the General. Amusement crossed Felix's brow.

"Lineman, what's this gift?"

"General Felix, Dayne is the insurrectionist you commanded me to apprehend, sir," Reuben saluted smartly.

"What?" The General's face contorted in disbelief. "A half blooded woman locked down the village?"

"Yes, sir. I saw it with my own eyes. Her weaponry is quite an accomplishment. Extraordinary, if I may say so," Reuben kept his comments short and to the point.

"Weaponry?"

Reuben pointed over his shoulder to the two tiered arrow launcher. General Felix left them to examine the item.

"He's gonna kill me," Dayne breathed.

"Not if you're smart enough for him," Reuben spoke quietly without moving his lips.

The General returned a bit crestfallen, "Impressive indeed but nothing my workman can't reproduce. Kill her and be done with her."

General Felix started to walk back to the Villa without a second look at his prisoner or Reuben. He was bitterly disappointed the leader of insurgency was not a man he could deal with directly.

"A blade," Dayne tugged free of Reuben's hold and spoke in a loud but clear voice, "a blade in the name of Waur, my god!"

General Felix stopped in his tracks, "Blasphemy!" He whirled around to face the woman.

"Which of my brothers will give me their blade in our god's name?" Dayne spoke as she turned slowly eying the group.

Reuben drew his sword. He offered it to her handle first, across his forearm. The razor sharp blade pointing directly at his heart. One wrong move and Dayne could make him a dead man.

Dayne took the sword and lifted the weight of it. She approached General Felix but did not menace him with the tip. She waited in the defensive stance she saw Silas hold the previous evening.

General Felix pulled his weak blade form the scabbard. He lifted it to the attack position. The cheap metal would never withstand even a half dozen blows from the sword Dayne held in her hands.

Dayne lowered her eyes. She lowered the sword. With great effort, she drove the blade into the dirt at Felix's feet. Turning her back on the General, Dayne knelt and bowed her head.

"I've wronged you, my brother." Dayne took a deep breath to strengthen her resolve before she continued, "Please take my sword and end my life as a prisoner of Waur."

Silence followed.

"Damn you to torment," the General hissed as he cut his x into the back of her neck.

PART 13

REUBEN RECLINED ON several cushions near the low dining table. He was pretending to be enjoying his aunt's hospitality. The food and wine provided was extraordinary fare. After moons of army food he should have been enraptured with Pia's extravagance. Instead, he was watching Becca as she cautiously served the evening meal to the General, Lady Pia, and himself. He was dismayed at how broken Becca appeared. The girl seemed positively terrified.

" I'm telling you, Reuben, this is a one shot chance. A once in a lifetime opportunity to make your fortune young," the General blustered, a little more drunk than he usually got.

"So you've said," Reuben smiled as he turned his attention to his uncle, "several times, in fact."

"Please Felix, stop badgering the boy about a military career," Pia asked sweetly.

"I'm trying to help him. Is that such a bad thing?" The General questioned.

"Husband, the boy can't think. Take a good look at his face. You must see it. A hunger is upon him. Don't tell me it's been so long that you're blind to youthful lust," Pia laughed to take the edge off her words.

"Ah, then any reasonable conversation is at an end," Felix resigned himself to his wife's assessment of their nephew's mood.

Pia cooed, "Reuben, you been too far from home for far too long. I think, you're longing for the softer blessings from Waur."

Pia cocked her head toward Becca and raised an eyebrow with her silent question. Reuben nodded agreement. He blushed slightly when Felix snickered and winked.

"At least you're like me in the important way, right boy?" The General bellowed his question.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to take a walk before bed. Get a bit of fresh air," Reuben cleared his throat.

"Need a bit of a stretch, lad?" Felix continued to chuckle.

"Well, if you don't mind, may I borrow your slave to attend me with the wine?" Reuben pointed to Becca so there would be no confusion who he wanted.

"Of course, darling," Pia would indulge their only nephew anything. "You, slave, go with the First Lineman. See to all his needs. And do so happily or you'll answer to me."

Reuben stood and walked out into the garden. He knew Becca had no choice but to follow him. The cool night air was a welcome relief from the heated dinner conversation. Pia and Felix were quite the conniving pair. They were working very hard to groom Reuben. To get him to renounce his birthright and let them claim him as their heir. It was something he was never going to allow. He heard Becca's footsteps and slowed his pace to allow her to catch up. The girl remained just a step or two behind him and to his left.

"Becca, come here," he stopped walking near an overgrown tree and motioned for the girl to join him in the shadows. "Are you well? Are you alright?"

Becca's head snapped up with the questions. She glared but she held back her bitter reply. Reuben was a little relieved to see some of her old fire still burning close to the surface.

"Sorry, of course you're not alright. How could you be given your situation?" He muttered as an apology.

"No, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I got to control myself better. I've got to learn not to react or,"

" my aunt will skin you alive," Reuben finished the thought for her.

"Reuben, I heard what your aunt said, and," Becca swallowed hard before asking, "I saw you looking at me, and I'll do what you want but after could you buy me? Get me away from her. I promise to be no trouble for you and I'll find someway to repay your expenses. Please, you might be my only hope of survival."

"I can't." Reuben took firm hold of her slumping shoulders and pulled her into a hug. "Soldiers can not own slaves until they've served at least six years or have their own command. Waur doesn't want us distracted from our duties with private endeavors."

Becca let her tears soak the front of Reuben's tunic. All the hope she felt when he entered the Villa was washing away. She let him guide her back into the garden, back under the moonlight. Part of her worried he would take her in front of Pia and Felix and the other part of her didn't care anymore what any of them did to her. Becca believed she was as good as dead.

"Hush, now. Look, out to the river. See the shack on the right," Reuben tipped her head up as he whispered in her ear. "There, out in front, you have to look very hard. See, there's a prisoner chained to the hitching post out front. Can you see her?"

Becca scanned the yard to find a figure huddled on the ground. She shrugged her shoulders to signal Reuben she saw the prisoner.

"That, Becca, would be Dayne. Your lover is here as a Prisoner of Waur and under the General's protection," Reuben grinned.

"Dayne," the word alone made her heart soar. "She's here? Can, could I, we, go talk to her?"

"Not tonight. It wouldn't be safe for her or you. I'll try to arrange a meeting but you must bide your time, girl. Do not annoy my aunt," Reuben warned, "or my uncle, for that matter. Stay out of trouble. I'll do what I can to get you a visit."

Becca buried her face in Reuben's tunic sobbing her thanks as he gently rocked her.

*  *  *

Dayne strained to turn the crank wheel one more notch. Sweat soaked her clothes but it was not from the difficult work. She was frightened.

"Sir, please, the wood, it'll snap, we need to warm it before we bend it," Dayne gritted her teeth as the lashes bit into her back.

"Silence!" Maximos screamed as he laid down two more strikes with the six lash cat. "You'll learn to follow my command the first time or I'll beat you raw."

The pair had spent the last five days working to build an arrow launcher for the General. Dayne explained the process of warming the wood so it would bend easily for the bow. Maximos laughed at her. He told her the only way he know to bend wood was with the force of the crank. When she argued the point, the weapons' master beat her to silence.

"Turn the crank again," he shouted.

Maximos strode away from Dayne as she struggled with the crank. He moved in front of the trembling wood. He would hold it there for the night and allow it to take on the shape. His hand reached out to caress the tortured plank just as a horrible snapping sound filled the air. Wood splintered in every direction.

Dayne covered her head in reflex. However, the wood shards exploded away from her, toward the bend in the wood. A shrill cry followed the sickening crack. Dayne lifted her head to find Maximos flat on the ground with blood spurting skyward.

She hurried from the crank to Maximos' side nearly tripping over her chained ankles. Grabbing his lash and knife, Dayne cut two lengths of leather. She quickly tied the leather above the wound. The blood slowed to a steady trickle.

"Got to get you to the main house," Dayne panted as she hoisted Maximos to his feet.

His pain filled scream did nothing to draw help.

"Come on, lean on me, here we go," she stumbled forward dragging the old soldier and her chains. "Well, this could be easier if you move the other leg, help me, come on, get going, don't die."

"Help me, help, please help," Maximos cried with every step Dayne took. "By Waur, it hurts!"

"Move, move, move, you're gonna bleed to death if you don't keep moving, move, move," Dayne gasped as she pulled the man up a small incline in the yard. "GENERAL!" Dayne managed to shout. "GENERAL!"

Soldiers and servants came spilling from the Villa as Dayne lowered Maximos to the stone walkway of the garden. A small group gathered and more than one man had his hand on his knife.

"What goes here?" General Felix stormed into the garden completely naked.

"General, Maximos is injured and in need of immediate attention. He has pierced a main bleeder in his leg. It must be burned closed," Dayne spoke as she put pressure on the wound.

"Abel, you men, get him inside and call my wife. She'll either save him or kill him," the General laughed as they carted the weeping man away. "And, you! What happened? Trying to kill old Maximos?"

Dayne was so frightened she missed the humor in the General's tone, "No, sir. We were working, the wood shattered, too much pressure, I would never, never raise a hand to an Elosian."

"On your feet," Felix pulled her up by a fistful of hair.

Before Dayne could beg for her life, Maximos screamed in agony from inside the Villa.

"Sounds like my wife killed him," the General and remaining group laughed.

"Oh, god," Dayne, believing the comment, thought she would be sick. "Please Sir, I didn't hurt Maximos. Tried to help him."

Dayne's world started to spin before her eyes. Her vision grew blurry. She could see the General was speaking but the ringing in her ears drowned out all other sounds. Dayne realized her knees were buckling as the General's grasp on her became more fierce. She promptly passed out.

"Well, at least she didn't vomit all over you," Pia teased when the Felix carried the prisoner into the dining area.

Felix chuckled as he set the girl down on the soft cushions, "I should have known laughing at you would come back to haunt me. You are Waur's favorite. How's Maximos?"

"Such crybabies, your soldiers are! Shrieked like a woman in labor when I sealed the wound," Pia was exasperated. "He'll survive, leg and all. How's this one?"

"Fainted," the two of them laughed.

Pia reached out and caressed her husband's penis, "You have the same effect on me. Come back to bed. Maximos will sleep for hours and Abel can wake her up and send her back to work."

Felix pulled his wife in front of him and parted her blood smeared robe. As he suspected, she was naked beneath. His body instantly responded to the heat between her thighs.

"Sending the prisoner back to work is less than a reward for saving Maximos' life," Felix mumbled while suckling Pia's neck. He would bruise her just enough to remind her of her place; beneath him.

Pia giggled, "Should one be rewarded for saving an old goat like Maximos?"

"Well, you're about to be rewarded for it," Felix grunted as he lifted Pia onto his erection. "Fair's fair."

*  *  *

Dayne's head was throbbing. Her body shivered against cool cloth. Her naked body shivered.

"What the," Dayne bolted to her feet only to be overcome by dizziness and forced to sit back down, hard. "Ouch," she muttered cradling her aching head.

"Hurt yourself?" A woman's cultured voice broke through the pounding in Dayne's brow.

"Head hurts, back too," Dayne frantically wiped at her half closed eyes trying to force them open.

"You need water and sleep. Drink this," the woman had moved closer and was pushing a mug into Dayne's hands.

The water was beautifully cold against her throat. Dayne wanted to gulp the contents but the woman would not let her. She guided the sips and Dayne could do nothing but relax under her control.

"Thank you," Dayne managed to open her eyes and saw the woman. She immediately realized this was no serving girl. The Lady of the Villa was kneeling next to her, "I'm sorry, ma'am, I didn't know it was you. Hard to see. I'll get out of your way, just need to go, get back to work,"

Dayne's second attempt to stand failed as badly as the first. Pia's laughter gave Dayne some small hope the Lady was not terribly angry with her. Perhaps, she would not be punished too much.

"Easy, don't go undoing my work. I don't like to re-healing old wounds or repeating myself. Tell me, how did you know how to tie of the wound on Maximos' leg," Pia leaned forward, eager for the reply.

Dayne struggled to find her voice, "It comes to me, ma'am. Like Waur's toys come to me."

"Toys?" Pia frowned at the word.

"Weapons but he calls them toys in my dreams," Dayne was quick to explain. "I know how to heal injuries the same way."

"You expect me to believe Waur whispers in your ear?" Pia could not keep the indignation from her voice, "Our god, speaking to a half blooded girl. You talk heresy."

Dayne shrugged and yawned, "He's a god. I guess he does what he wants."

Pia's features switched from anger to amusement. She actually laughed at Dayne's remark.

"Maybe he does, at that. Tell me girl, who do you belong to?" Pia eased Dayne's head back down on the sleeping blankets. "Whose your father or husband or Master?"

"Half bloods have no father. Villagers don't let my kind marry so no husband. The man who raised me ended up disowning me. He kept me on as a slave. So, I guess, Senecos was my Master. But, then the army arrested me so I'm your husband's prisoner, Waur's prisoner," Dayne yawned again and realized the water she drank must have been drugged. "Are you gonna kill me?"

"What would make you say that?" Pia shuddered slightly. It was as if the girl accused her of a past crime instead of future action. "I gave you something to help you sleep. After all, I would think you have a lot of work to catch up on tomorrow."

Pia rose and went to Dayne's feet. She tugged on the chains to make sure they were secured to the post in the floor.

"Can't let you run away when you possess so many much needed talents, now can I?" Pia asked with a wink.

Dayne was too exhausted to answer and drifted off to sleep.

PART 14

DAYNE STOOD WITH downcast eyes and palms sweating while General Felix inspected the completed arrow launcher. In the five suns since Maximos was injured, Dayne was able to finish the enormous weapon on her own and according to her own design. She was even able to make several hand held launchers in the waning light after the heavy work was done; after the last meal of each day. Time passed so peacefully, it was easy for her to forget her life depended on the results of her efforts. If the General was pleased with the weapon's ability, she would live. If, however, he was displeased then she imagined she would die in some slow, horrible way.

"Well, it looks sound, I suppose," General Felix announced loud enough for his guards to hear.

He stood with his hands on his hips between the intimidating weapon and his soldiers. Two rows of viciously sharp arrows pointed directly at his naked chest. His short leather battle skirt and boots would not protect him in anyway if the device misfired or launched prematurely.

"Shall we see if it'll work as well for us as it did for the barbarian?" He asked the soldiers and they responded with a rousing cheer. "Then let's get to it! Bring out the prisoners," the General ordered.

Dayne's blood ran cold. The General was not only going to test the weapon, he was going to use live prisoners to do so.

"Ah, sir, if," Dayne started to stutter as guards herded frightened men toward the field below the arrow launcher.

"What? Having doubts the weapon will work?" General Felix said in a menacing voice as he stalked toward her.

"No, sir, it'll work. That's the problem." Dayne explained, "They'll all be killed. They won't survive. None of them. No chance for any of them at close range."

The General let out a roar of a laugh. Most of the guards did the same thing. None of the prisoners laughed as they huddled on the field.

"Every arrow? You think you'll get a direct hit out of every arrow?" The General questioned her with mock seriousness.

"No, sir," a collective chuckle went up around the soldiers when they thought she was backing away from her claim. "At short range, some arrows will kill two or three men."

General Felix leaned in very close, "My best archers can't kill more than one man with one arrow. You talk nonsense. Worse, you might be very close to speaking blasphemy."

Dayne looked to the ground. She would not risk an argument with the General.

"Tell you what," General Felix, sensing she was conceding defeat, spoke directly in her ear, "if your little device kills six of the twenty men on the field, I'll give you tomorrow off. If we score ten kills, I'll send you food from my own table. Damn it, I'll send you food from my own plate." Then the General pulled away to shout so the soldiers and prisoners could hear, "If you get all twenty kills, as you have so bragged, I will put on a feast to honor your father's name. A celebration such as you have never seen, barbarian; sweet food, strong drink, endless sex. I'll give you a room under my own roof and have my own wife teach you the finer rules of being a true Elosian."

The guards were laughing and calling out encouragement to their General's promises. Some of the prisoners looked relieved. They believed there was little chance dying this day when the General himself doubted the weapon's ability.

"But," the General's easy manner turned suddenly violent as he grabbed Dayne by the shirt front, "if you kill fewer than six then I'll whip you twenty hard lashes and leave you to die on the scaffold. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Dayne answered without fear.

General Felix pushed Dayne away from him and strode up next to the device. He motioned for one of the guards to ready the launcher. Dayne had given them all a short explanation about the working of the firing mechanism before she armed the weapon.

"All right now, you bunch of village scum, listen good," General Felix hollered to the prisoners in the field. "Simple rules are for simple men like you lot. If you survive the firing of my arrow launcher then I'll set you free. Simple, right? Just keep running toward the river. None of my men will try to stop you. Now go! Run. GO!"

Dayne watched as the men began to scramble further down the field. She heard the command to aim the arrows. The men were running but she knew it didn't matter. The General ordered the first round fired; ten arrows. More than half the men fell.

"By Waur himself! Fire again. Fire again!" General Felix screamed with delight.

The last of the men on the field were dropped by the second volley. The arrow launcher had killed most men outright. Several did lay mortal wounded. However, as Dayne claimed, nobody survived.

"You are truly Waur's child!" the General shouted in near hysteria at Dayne.

General Felix grabbed Dayne around the shoulders and gave a firm hug. His big fists pounded a rhythm on her back so hard she thought she would lose her meager breakfast. However, it could have been the sound of dying men that threatened to up end her stomach.

"We'll conquer any who stands against us. The homeland will be preserved for all eternity from our ancient enemies with the gifts Waur has given you." Felix held her at arms length to exclaim, "Your father's name will be honored for all time!"

"But, I'm a bastard slave," Dayne miserably replied but it was too soft to be heard above the revelry of the General and his soldiers.

Felix proceeded to proclaim Dayne's blessings to any and all who would listen as he marched her back to the villa. He called orders for soldiers to clear the field and slaves to prepare the promised celebration. Dayne was growing more distraught by the carnage with every foot step, every word. The festive mood exploding around her seemed like chaos. Her mind struggled to make sense of the senseless. However, it was the General's command for more slaughtering that drained the last of her physical strength.

"A suckling pig. Roast a suckling pig for the main course, Abel. What's wrong with you?" His orders were interrupted by the crumpling form in his arms.

The General slowed his steps as Dayne went limp. He lifted her off the ground in one sweeping movement.

"Too much, sir. It's all too much," Dayne managed to mutter before passing out.

*  *  *

Dayne entered the General's dining area under armed escort. She had been scrubbed clean by Abel. She wore a new tunic he tossed her from the Lady's laundry. Her leggings were remnants of the skins laid out to dry for grain sacks. Dayne dared to believe she had never felt quite so clean.

"There she stands," a feminine voice echoed off the marble in the high ceiling room.

"So she does," the General grunted as he followed his wife into the dining area.

The pair moved to sit on the soft cushions near the low table in the center of the room.

"Come sit next to me. My husband told me, he promised I would teach you the Elosian ways. So, sit next to me that you might learn more quickly," Lady Pia waved Dayne over to the cushions near her.

"Thank you, ma'am." Dayne's voice cracked when she greeted the imposing man, "General."

"Bring on the food," the General barked.

Slaves seemed to appear from nowhere bearing platters of food. They set to work without comment or extraneous noise. Dayne could almost smell the fear coming off them.

"We start with cold, pureed fruit. Doesn't matter where in the world we eat, any indigenous fruit will due to begin the meal," Lady Pia explained as she placed a small amount on Dayne's plate. "It is served cold and sour to remind us how difficult life was before Waur claimed us as his own."

"Ha, it also clears your palate," the General supplied the more practical reason with a chuckle.

Pia gave him a nasty look and he sobered immediately. She turned back to Dayne and pushed the plate closer to the girl.

"You can use the bread to sweep the fruit into you mouth. Hold your plate under you chin life this," Pia demonstrated and Dayne copied her. "How does it taste?"

"Very good, Lady Pia," Dayne took several more mouthfuls of the deliciously cold treat.

"Next, the main course is raw vegetables and salted meats. You can put bread on either side of the meat slices and eat it from your hand." Pia scanned the table looking for the meats.

"Pia, we are having a celebration tonight," the General said. "I'm sorry I didn't mention it to you earlier. We'll be having hot food."

Pia looked startled, "For a barbarian?"

"Think of it as a way to honor her Elosian father," Felix shrugged.

Dayne's attention was drawn to the doorway where several slaves were struggling with a heavy burden. When they entered the room Dayne could see the item weighing them down. She began to scuttle backward; trying to get away from the massive creature trussed up on the serving platter.

"Girl, stop that! Get back here beside me," Pia grabbed Dayne's arm and pushed her back to the table. "It's dead. It can't hurt you."

The roasted pig was placed in the middle of the table. General Felix was chuckling watching Dayne's reaction to the main course. His wife was not as amused.

"What's the matter? Never had pork? You're not one of those Hebrews from Egypt are you?" The General teased.

"No, no, sir. I don't even know what you're asking me," Dayne was sweating and her hand reached out to take Pia's hand. "Lady, I mean no offense. I'm ignorant. Afraid. Can I go back to the shed? I'm not hungry no more."

Pia felt something forgotten stir in her heart when Dayne took her hand. The memory of a trusting infant's hand wrapped around her finger moments before Felix took the babe to die in the woods. She wanted to pull away from the close contact but she was sure Dayne would bolt if she did. Pia would not let the barbarian ruin her husband's celebration.

"Don't be silly. You sit with me and eat. The pig meat is very mild. You'll like it," Pia reassured the girl.

"Villagers can't eat anything so big," Dayne whispered to Pia.

"Religious reasons?"

"No. They don't have anyway to kill it because of the weapons ban and besides they don't let us hunt," Dayne continued to whisper but the General heard.

"Dayne, you're one of the 'they' you speak of. You are not a villager anymore so stop thinking like one," Felix commanded and then took the plate of food Abel offered him.

Dayne nodded acknowledgement to his order. She did not try to speak because she was certain her voice would fail her. Pia offered her a plate of food. Dayne reluctantly let go of Pia's hand to accept it. She watched the General and Pia begin to eat and did her best to copy their every move. Much to her relief the food, even the pig, was delicious.

Their plates were almost empty when Felix called for wine. Pia showed Dayne how to hold her cup so the slave could fill it. Dayne was so focused on doing exactly as Pia instructed she didn't notice the slave pouring the wine until her cup was half full.

"Becca?"

The room fell silent. Becca stopped pouring the wine and knelt next to Dayne.

"My Becca," Dayne claimed her.

Dayne set the wine jug aside. She pulled Becca into a tight hug. Becca responded by throwing her arms around Dayne's neck and hiding her face in her lover's chest. Dayne held her close and placed gentle kisses on the top of Becca's head.

"Well, looks like you found a friend," the General choked out a laugh.

Dayne was furious, "She's mine. She's always been mine. I want her back. You can't have her. I won't let you keep her."

The General stood and up ended the table. Slaves ran in every direction to escape his rage. Dayne remained seated with Becca held firmly in her arms.

"How dare you?" the General's approach was stopped when Pia leapt to her feet and placed herself between them.

"Felix, you said yourself she's a barbarian. She's also a prisoner and not a slave," Pia reminded him. "She doesn't know any better. Give me a chance to teach her."

"Why should I do that?" the General was seething.

"Because she could build you the weapon you need to rule Elos. Think what she could make for you to use against your enemies. With your army and her weapons, you could take control of the country. Do away with the Legislature and diplomats." Pia gave a broad smile, "King suits you more than General, I think."

Felix liked the idea, "What of the slave then? I'll spare the barbarian because she has a purpose. The slave is useless."

"If the barbarian wants her let her keep her. Who cares? As long as Dayne keeps building Waur's weapons, let her sleep with all the slaves if she wants. She's still your prisoner so the slave is still yours as well."

The muscles in Felix's arms relaxed. His wife was right. Why hack the girl to pieces before she makes him rich? He could wait.

"All right, barbarian. The slave is yours. Pia will teach you the manners you need to survive in my household," the General spoke deliberately.

"Thank you," Dayne replied without looking at the man.

"Mark my words, if you cross me again, it will be the last time," the General promised. "Not even Waur himself will still my hand."

The General stormed away with Pia following. Slaves slowly and silently began to clear the food and plates. Dayne remained on the floor cradling Becca in her arms.

"You're safe. I'm here," Dayne whispered to her terrified lover. "I'll keep us safe, I promise."

PART 15

"DAYNE! WHERE ARE you?"

"Oh, for the love of the gods, will you shut up? She's gone! She's never coming back," Varna shouted.

She gathered up the bowl of thin broth she was trying to feed Senecos and stormed into the kitchen. Hurling the bowl into the wash basin, she wailed in frustration. Varna was fed up with the old man. He had been calling out for his damned monster for days on end.

Senecos lost his sanity and his health in the time since he locked Dayne in the storm cellar. Over the course of the first few days, he would ask Varna to release Dayne and bring her to his bedside. He wanted to set things right with her. Varna held fast, demanding Dayne remain confined. She delighted in reminding him of the girl's traitorous nature. An exhausted Senecos would, in total despair, finally agree with her and let the matter rest until the next sun rise. He lost all hope when Varna gleefully announced Dayne's arrest by the Elosians. Senecos took to his bed. His strength was gone. He was unable to withstand even short walks to the chamber pot. Senecos would just lay in his bed moaning which progressed into mumbles and ultimately turned into full cries for his daughter.

"We must look for her," he tried to sit up as he spoke. "She's too small to survive the woods."

"She's a full grown woman, you old fool!" Varna screamed from across the room.

Senecos managed to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He panted from the effort.

"Don't get up! You'll fall flat on your face again," Varna raced to his side to hold him back.

"My baby girl is lost. Dayne, come home. Dayne, Papa needs you to come home," the old man cried.

"She's not a baby any longer. She's a grown woman. Besides, the Elosians have her. General Felix is teaching to mind her manners now," Varna grinned at the thought.

"No, not him, not Felix. He'll kill her. He'll leave her to die in the woods again. I must go save her. It's like before. Only I can save Dayne. Felix has no compassion for his child. No pity for the ridded."

Varna's jaw dropped. General Felix was Dayne's father. Information like that must be worth at least a month of salted meat to somebody.

"Senecos, are you sure? Are you certain General Felix left Dayne to the wolves?" Varna asked in a sweet voice.

"Of course," Senecos cried. "I waited until he finished cutting her. Then he walked off without even a backward glance at the baby. I grabbed her and ran all the way home. We must find her, Varna. We must!"

Varna stood up and went to get her shawl. She would go to the village and ask the first Elosian she met to give her safe passage to the General.

"I have a message for him from Waur himself," Varna chuckled in a low voice. "Senecos, I'm going out to look for your baby. You stay right there in bed."

"Dayne, where are you?" He called out.

Varna opened the door and heard a dog bark in the distance. She got a wonderful idea. A chance to ease her burden. She propped the door open so any passing beast could enter. Maybe even Waur's hounds would find him. Senecos would not be able to defend himself. He would be easy pickings. She would never have to worry about the slim chance of Senecos speaking out against her.

"Dayne?"

"Don't worry, dear," Varna laughed, "I'm sure you'll be seeing her very soon."

*  *  *

Dayne shifted on the soft bedding in order to ease Becca out of her arms without waking the woman. She and Becca were given a room in the villa after the abrupt end to dinner. They were both emotionally and physically spent. The pair collapsed on the bedding fully dressed and fell asleep safe in each others arms. Dayne, rested from a brief sleep, started to undress her lover.

"No, don't," Becca's eyes snapped open and she clutched at her clothing to hold it in place.

"Shh, it's only me," Dayne reassured. "I want to clean you up a little. The two of us are covered in food. We stink like a roasted pig," Dayne gave a wink.

Becca shook her head. She sat up pulling a blanket over to cover herself, trying to move away from Dayne. "I don't want you to see me. Don't want you to see my body. It's too, I'm too, horrible."

"No, no, you're beautiful. You're the most beautiful woman in the world," Dayne wrapped her arms around Becca and held her close. "Nothing will ever change that for me. Not gray hair, not missing teeth, not a saggy bottom," Dayne teased to lighten the mood.

"You don't understand," Becca argued. "They used me. They marked me."

"I don't care what they did. Doesn't change you for me. You're the most beautiful woman in the world," Dayne cuddled her close.

"What about this?" Becca snarled as she pulled away and tore the front of her dress open to reveal the brand. "Still a beauty, right?"

Dayne studied the mark for a moment. Then she leaned foreword, closing the distance between her and the cruel burn. With infinite care, Dayne placed a light kiss on the abused flesh.

"Does it hurt?" Her voice was husky with unshed tears.

Becca began to cry in earnest, "Not now. Not anymore."

The two held each other close. There were tears; some bitter, some angry, some brimming with love. Soft words were shared. Moments of silence followed as they rediscovered their bodies capacity to heal one another. Finally, the one sound Dayne had been longing to hear broke free. A giggle. Becca giggled.

"What? Have you decided I'm funny looking or something?" Dayne tried to ask with a straight face.

"No, I decided I'm kind of stupid," Becca sighed as she propped herself up on Dayne's chest. "How could I think you would reject me? I know you better than that."

"I understand, love. I was worried you'd hate me so I guess we're even," Dayne said as she played with Becca's hair.

"Why would I hate you?" Becca was confused.

"You know, because I built the arrow launcher for the General," Dayne saw a look of surprise cross Becca's face. "Oh, you didn't know. Oops."

"You're helping him?"

"Yes," Dayne did not try to justify her actions.

Becca sat up but said nothing. She kept her back to Dayne as she considered the information. Dayne ached to reach out and caress her. To lavish kisses across her scarred body. But, Dayne understood Becca needed to decided to forgive or not without undue pressure.

"Did he threaten you? Is that why you're helping him?" Becca looked over her shoulder to see Dayne shake her head no. "So, it was the promise of comforts that lead you to betray your family and friends." An accusation stood between them.

"Becca, those people sold you into slavery," Dayne said with clenched teeth. "They are not my family and you were my only friend ever. I built a weapon to use against them but I didn't have the courage to kill them." Dayne swallowed hard around the lump in her throat, "I wasn't even strong enough to find the courage to kill myself."

Becca's cheeks paled with the thought of a life without Dayne. "No, don't you ever say that. You are never to kill yourself. Your life is not your own. It belongs to me."

Becca pounced on Dayne. She straddled the reclining woman. Fear was brimming in her eyes.

"Say it, your mine, say it," Becca held Dayne's arms down and leaned right into her face.

Dayne could smell the sweetness of her breath and could feel Becca's nipples tease across her own, "I thought you were mad about me working with the General."

"Dayne, don't make me get rough with you," Becca captured Dayne's lips with a biting kiss. "Tell me you belong to me. Your life is mine to protect. Please, tell me you're mine."

"I belong to you, oh" Dayne gasped when Becca's thigh spread her legs open. "So, I guess you're not mad."

Becca pushed hard against Dayne's sex. "Let's say not that mad," Becca smiled as Dayne's body responded to her moves.

"Do you forgive me for helping the General?" Dayne managed to get out as her body trembled under Becca's touch.

"I was wrong," Becca stopped to kiss Dayne. "As long as you're alive, you've done nothing that I need to forgive."

*  *  *

Even in a half sleep, Dayne could sense movement above them. Her hand went up on its own to stop whatever was coming down at them. The thin switch caught her across the palm with a hissing sting. Dayne managed to grab hold and pull the branch and its wielder to her. Abel fell heavily across Becca and Dayne.

"You are not welcome here," Dayne spat in the man's face.

"Ignorant barbarian! Whore's half blood! I'm the head houseman, you can't touch me. Nobody touches me. My Mistress will see you flogged," Abel threatened with a great deal of bluster.

He struggled but Dayne held fast to his hair. The little man was fuming as he fought to get free. It did him little good. He was unable to budge her firm grip on him.

"I'll see to it they stake out your bitch in the midday sun to bake!" Abel promised.

"You will never speak of her that way again," Dayne's voice dropped into a deadly range.

Pia was sitting in the pergola sipping on a juice squeezed from local fruit when she heard a shrill scream. She raced into the villa and followed the unmistakable sounds of a thrashing. It did not surprise her in the least to find the source of the commotion in the barbarian's room. She was, however, stunned to see Abel's ass bared and blooded. Dayne held the shrieking man over her lap and was mercilessly beating him with a switch. For her part, Becca remained seated in the bedding, half covered with a blanket and the most peaceful grin on her face.

"Enough," Pia said in a voice laden with forced patience. "Dayne, let Abel get back to his duties. If you're angry he woke you then you are angry with me. But," Pia gave a half smile which lacked any humor at all, "I wouldn't suggest you try to teach me Abel's lesson. I might prove to be more of an opponent for you."

"Lady Pia," Dayne dropped the switch and release the whimpering Abel, "it was not the interruption I objected to. Your houseman tried to beat me in my own bed while I was still asleep. I won't have it. What Elosian would suffer at the hands of a lesser man?"

Pia stifled a hearty laugh. "So, you're an Elosian this morning. What transpired last night to make you so fearless? If I remember correctly, the roasted pig almost sent you running."

"It's true, I am ignorant," Dayne stood tall and bowed her head slightly to acknowledge her failings. "My father denied me the right to be raised by my kind. This is no fault of mine. I'm Elosian without knowledge or training. But, Waur whispers in my ear and not yours, Lady Pia. Would you mock your god by mocking his messenger?"

"Abel, get out!" Pia ordered. She waited for the little man to gather himself and run off before she answered Dayne. "I don't know why you were chosen to be his messenger. I'll not question that you do Waur bidding. Still, this is my home. Those are my servants, as is this one," she waved at Becca. "I'll allow you to use them and abuse them as you see fit but, in the future, don't beat them for my orders. It destroys their morale completely. They either become sullen or weepy or both and I'm forced to kill them all and start over." Pia sighed, "As you can imaging, it's a lot of work to break in an entirely new house staff."

Dayne gave a frown. Other peoples' lives meant so little to Pia. Dayne decided the General and Pia were a well matched pair.

Dayne spoke in the calmest voice she could muster. "I'll keep my hands off your slaves as long as they keep their hands off me. Becca is not to be touched by anybody but me."

"You do remember Becca, as you like to call her, is a slave. If she's disobedient then she must be punished. Rules must be upheld. Are you prepared to dispense appropriate punishment for her actions?" Pia spoke as she sat on the bedding next to Becca. Occasionally, her hand reached out and stroked the blonde hair. "Are you ready to master her?"

"I'll take care of Becca," Dayne spoke around gritted teeth.

"Good, then we've finished with it. Now, on to what I wanted you for this morning." Pia pointed directly at Dayne, "I sent Abel to get you because we have need of a weapon. One much more discreet than the arrow launcher. Some sort of silent killing machine."

Dayne walked over to the bedding. She sat on Becca's other side and pulled the woman into her lap. She let Becca turn her back on Pia and nuzzle into the crook of her neck.

"Discreet? Silent?" Dayne questioned as she laid wordless claim to Becca.

"Yes," Pia sighed heavily at Dayne's possessiveness. It was a lost opportunity for the three of them to have some fun. "We need something to kill quietly. A weapon which can be used in a room full of dignitaries and them be none the wiser until they are dying on the floor."

"I'll sleep on it," Dayne bit her lip as she pondered the task. "Send us food and drink. We'll rest today. I need to dream of your weapon."

Pia nodded. She rose to leave but thought of one more thing.

"It would be best if you explain the details of your design to me first and not the General. He had no head for details," Pia lied easily.

Dayne nodded. She could see the deception in Pia's eyes. However, Dayne did not challenge the claim. She continued to lay gentle stokes down the length of Becca's back.

*  *  *

"Dayne?"

The growl from the doorway was menacing. It was the voice of a hungry wolf. A growl came again but did not move beyond the threshold.

"Must save my little baby," Senecos mumbled as he tumbled out of his bed.

Two days with no food or water left him weak and beyond confused. His feverish body reeked of stale urine and excrement. The hound at the open door took a step back from the stench. It wondered if anything healthy could be alive in the dark hovel.

"Papa's coming, Papa's here, hush my girl," Senecos called across the silent room.

He dug his fingers into the dirt floor. Senecos pulled himself to where the baby always slept, so many forgotten years before. His hands frantically searched for the wicker baby bed he made. He clawed his way closer to where it used to be.

The wolf let out a long bay in sympathy. It smelled the death. The old man was dying. He was nothing more than warm dinner without a chase or a fight spread out before the gray eyed wolf. Yet, it held back. There was another, fainter smell in and around the house. The scent of the Master filled the night. The wolf bayed again. It called to the pack. It called them to come home.

PART 16

REUBEN SIGNED THE bottom of the parchment before placing it neatly in the completed pile. The stack waiting for signatures remained formidable. Since start of General Felix's leave, Reuben served as acting commander. Duty rosters, troop training and rotation, supply orders, and the dreaded Legislative reports were all his to deal with on a daily basis. His home in Greece never seemed so far away.

"Commander, at your leisure, sir," the voice at the door was that of a freshly promoted Lineman; full of himself and his new found authority.

"Ah, and what have you lot of brutes been up to?" Reuben mumbled to himself. "Enter!"

The young Lineman hurried in dragging an old village woman behind him. He shoved her to the center of the room, directly in front of Reuben's desk, before snapping to attention.

"Commander, the crone demanded to see General Felix. She refused orders to return to her home. We arrested her on the spot. What would you have us do with her?" He smirked with the arrogance of unchecked power.

"Fool," Varna hissed at the young man, "you may have cost the General his life by playing soldier instead of being one."

The Lineman moved to strike her but Reuben shouted, "Enough! Lineman, stand down! In fact, go and report yourself to the Day Officer for discipline."

"The charge, sir?" the Lineman was shocked by the order.

"Conduct unbecoming, failure to follow procedure, and insubordination. Is that sufficient for today or should I go on until you get busted back to Footman?" Reuben raised an eyebrow.

"Sufficient for today, sir." The crestfallen Lineman saluted and left before he began to weep.

"Now for you," Reuben turned his attention to the old woman. "What are you bothering my troops about?"

Varna straightened her clothes and stood to her full but limited height. She felt vindicated by the chastisement the Lineman had received. It seemed things were finally moving in her direction.

"I have information for General Felix. It could well save his life. I must speak with him at once. Now, see to it," she demanded.

"What's the information?" Reuben asked as he returned to his desk in search of parchment and a quill. "I'll send a note with your story to him at first light."

"NO!" Varna stomped her foot. "No notes! I will speak directly with General Felix. Nobody but him. Can you understand that?" She asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"What?" Reuben was stunned by her defiance. "Lady, you either tell me what you know or we'll round up your family and torture them until you talk. The choice is yours."

"I've no family to speak of, boy. No children. He, that was my husband, is most likely dead by now. Not that he was much good alive," Varna snorted proudly. "If you try to torture me then I'll take my secret to the grave and your General will die. His death will be on your hands."

"Husband? I'm stunned any sane man would house a shrew such as yourself," Reuben was losing his patience with the woman. "Tell me, what type of lunatic would bed something like you?"

"Why you impertinent whelp! I'll have you know my husband was a well respected member of the village," Varna was incensed by Reuben's disrespect for her status.

"People can kind to the soft headed. Maybe they thought he had suffered enough having to live with you. Could that be the case, Lady?" Reuben taunted her.

"I'll have you know, I am the wife of Senecos," Varna announced like a queen.

"Senecos?" The name reverberated in Reuben's memory. "You're Dayne's mother?" Her half smile response sickened the First Lineman. "You whore! You lay with a foreigner and shift the blame to the resulting babe. You ruined her life because your own is such a disgrace. May Waur's hounds devourer your carcass and gnaw your bones to powder on a fiery battlefield for all eternity!"

Reuben could contain his brewing anger no longer. He came around the desk and seized Varna by the throat. He began to squeeze the foul breath from her body. His reason was momentarily blinded by the heartless woman before him. Then, in an instant of clarity, he remembered something she said and eased his grip.

"Why did you say Senecos is 'likely' dead? Is he dead or no?" Reuben asked.

"He was living when I left but that was three suns ago," Varna tried to appear meek as she gasped for breath. "Senecos went mad when you took Dayne away. He's no longer able to care for himself. He can't feed himself or go to the pot without help. Without me, the poor old man is likely dead," Varna tried to wrangle some sympathy from the soldier. "I left him because of my fear for the General's safety. I thought I would only be away a few hours. But, your cock sure soldiers wouldn't listen to me. When I spoke of the urgency of my mission, they just laughed in my face. Oh, my poor Senecos, all alone, nobody will hear him die," She wailed.

"Save it." Reuben pushed the woman away from him with a curse, "Bitch! Senecos and Dayne deserved better than a faithless harlot as wife and mother. I'll send you on to tell your story to General Felix. Perhaps, he can find a means to best put an end to your horrid existence. I'll not sully my hands with you putrid blood, woman. Go, make your case to the General and may Waur's hounds nip constantly at your heels."

Reuben stalked out of his office. Varna waited a few heartbeats before smirking at her success.

*  *  *

Becca strolled down the rolling field to the work shed. She found herself unable to stop smiling. Dayne left their bed before sunrise to begin her work. Becca lingered over memories of Dayne lavishing tender kisses on her bruised flesh while pleading with the smaller woman to sleep a bit longer to rest her wounds. Becca finally agreed after Dayne tucked her into the bedding so snug and warm that sleep took hold of her ever fiber.

"Seems we have a distraught Egyptian slave destroying the kitchen's clay jars and swearing to bloody his fists on the barbarian's face," Becca greeted Dayne. "Do you know anything about it?"

"Everything," Dayne began to explain but looked up and caught sight of Becca drenched in sunshine. "You are lovely. The site of you makes me ache. Please, follow me."

Dayne stopped what she was doing and extended a hand to Becca. The pair proceeded to disappear behind the shed. Dayne backed Becca up against the wood before falling to her knees before her lover.

"Dayne, we shouldn't do this outside, should we?" Becca giggled when Dayne lifted her skirt and kissed her sex.

"Why not?" Dayne grinned and kissed Becca's soft fur again. "Becca, please, don't say no. I need you again. Don't know why so soon but I have to taste you again. Now. No time to go back to the room. Please, let me, please. Please tell me I can love you."

Becca relaxed against the wood of the shed. She ran her fingers through Dayne's sweat soaked hair. Becca understood Dayne's desire. Her own need was gathering momentum.

"You never need to ask permission. I'm yours, Dayne. I belong to you. My body is yours to take," Becca spoke quietly as she stroked the dark head kneeling before her.

Dayne shook her head no and looked Becca in the eye, "I promise, I'll always wait for your consent. Each and every time. The simple fact that you are willing to share yourself with me makes me twice blessed. I won't risk your kindness to me for the heat of passion. No, Becca your body is your own to control."

"And what about you?" Becca asked with a wink. "What about your body? I claimed it as mine the other night. Took full command of you, if memory serves me. I'm not willing to give you back your autonomy. If you ask me, doesn't sound like we have a fair exchange."

"I'm not looking for fair exchange," Dayne hugged Becca's thighs. "I want you to always love me. I need you to forgive me for what they did to you. I don't want you to be afraid I'm like them."

Becca's mouth went dry. The only person in the world she loved, feared Becca would blame her for moments beyond either of their control. Becca sank to her knees and took possession of Dayne's mouth in a passionate kiss.

"We belong to each other. Your body is mine and my body is yours. It's a give and a take. We share, we dominate, we submit to each other's desires." Becca took a deep breath and cupped Dayne's cheeks in her palms, "I expect to wake up some mornings with you making love to me. And, I expect to wake you some mornings with my unquenchable longing for your body. We are two parts of one whole." Becca cleared the tears streaming down Dayne's face with several kisses. "I forgive you everything you need to be forgiven for but I don't blame you for what happened to me. Never will."

"Can, may I," Dayne tried to silence her tears to no avail as she begged permission.

"Dayne, I want you to make love to me: kiss me, suck me, lick me, make me scream your name. Do what you do best and touch me. Dayne, take my body because you own it."

"I love you," Dayne mumbled as she suckled the raw skin where Becca's collar had been. She would leave her imprint of ownership on the blonde slave.

*  *  *

The gray eyed wolf lifted his head and yawned. He and his pack mates spent the night huddled around the old man who smelled of the Master. They were able to warm him but he would not take fresh kill or a bitch's tit to feed. If the Master didn't return soon the old one would perish. The wolf settled in closer to the man for the few hours left before the hunt.

"Dayne, my Dayne, is that you?" Senecos patted the furry head cradled in his arms. "I'm so glad you came back home."

*  *  *

"So, what are you working on and why is the Egyptian so angry?" Becca held on to Dayne's hand as they walk back to the front of the shed.

"The Egyptian is mad because I took his glass bottle and shattered it," Dayne blushed at Becca's horrified reaction. "It was for a good cause I assure you. Behold, a weapon of silence."

Dayne picked up an ordinary looking mug from the work table. She showed Becca the common features of the outer mug first. Then she turned the cup so the sun shone inside.

"Sparkles," Becca whispered.

"Broken glass." Dayne was grim, "When it is filled with wine, the shards of glass float free of the sides. As the victim drinks, the glass slices his gut to pieces. Most of them won't know they're dead men until they start coughing up blood."

Becca felt sick, "Such a terrible way to die."

"Dying is terrible. No way is better than the other," Dayne felt accused and tried to defend herself.

Becca put her hand over Dayne's heart. "You have no choice but to make these things for the General but don't blind yourself to the horror. Murder, killing, battles are all horrendous wastes of life."

"What I do for him is heart breaking," Dayne clutched at Becca's hand like a lifeline.

"My love, it is better to have a broken heart than no heart at all."

*  *  *

"And, who are you?" Pia strolled into the garden to meet the village woman. "Demanding to see my husband as if you were among the privileged class. What, has he left you with a bastard?"

"In a way, yes," Varna smirked.

Pia looked the woman over very carefully. She checked one side and then the other. With a snort of laughter, Pia clapped her hands.

"A joke, right? Friends from Elos sent you?" Pia sucked a tooth when the woman did not confess to a hoax by friends. "Tell me what you came for then. Don't try to make me believe Felix bedded you. I know him too well. He'd sire a colt before he'd have you under him."

"Mock me all you want, Lady Pia. It will do nothing to ease the danger your husband is in." Varna spoke with confidence. "Your husband's greatest enemy is living under his own roof."

"Do tell," Pia was unimpressed. "There isn't a slave or servant here who wouldn't slit our throats in our sleep if they thought they could get away with it. My husband is a harsh task master. His household trembles in his wake. As it should."

"What of his child? Eh, what of the ridded?" Varna taunted.

"Which one? I bore four, no five daughters. Felix left them all to the wolves. Ghosts are no threat to living flesh," Pia replied with a yawn.

"You're wrong. One lived. One is not a ghost but a woman who can do you very much harm," Varna watched as Pia's face went crimson.

"Not possible. They were all sacrificed to Waur! All my babies are dead, all my daughters were slaughtered for Waur's sake," Pia made it sound like a matter of honor.

Varna looked out onto the field below. She saw the unmistakable, tall figure near the shed. Her bony finger pointed the woman out to Pia.

"She stands taller than you, a little taller, but not as tall as Felix. Her hair is thick enough to hide the mark from a passing glance but not so thick one can't route it out if one looks for it. And, she knows the way of Waur but never set foot in Elos." Varna turned back to see a trembling, teary eyed Pia studying the figure in the distance. "My husband broke curfew the night Felix left her in the Forest of Lost Soldiers. Senecos brought her home to raise. Idiot that he was. I told him over and over, you can't raise an animal in the house."

Pia lunged at Varna. At first, Varna thought the General's wife was overcome with grief and collapsing. It wasn't until she felt the sharp edge of the knife tear her belly open that Varna realized her fatale misstep. Varna gagged as her insides spilled out. She dropped to the floor shuddering in agony.

Pia knelt next to Varna's head. She wiped her gore covered blade on the pale cheek.

"I like the side slash method with a short blade best. It takes longer for all of your strength and blood to drain away. You'll probably remain conscious long enough to see me have a chat with the ridded." Pia tisked as she patted Varna's head, "When will your kind learn not to interfere with your betters, Waur's favored."

Pia stood and strolled back inside the Villa. Her voice echoed off the marble, "Abel, bring Dayne and her slave to me immediately. Oh, and have her bring the silent weapon whether it's finished or not."

PART 17

DAYNE DID NOT argue with Abel when he commanded she go see Mistress Pia. She merely responded with a viscous glare. The little man went running for the safety of the villa.

"I think Abel shit himself when I looked at him," Dayne whispered in Becca's ear as they walked arm and arm out of the sun into the chilly shadows of General Felix's villa.

"I don't think so," Becca appeared thoughtful as she considered the possibility. "I mean how could he get anything out of his hole after you beat his ass so badly. The poor man must be swollen shut."

The pair chuckled softly as they strolled into the gardens. Dayne stopped suddenly and pulled Becca behind her. The stink of death was in the air. Dayne recognized it well before she spotted the body slumped on the grass. Becca started to gag when her eyes focused on Varna; laying on the ground and drenched in blood and guts and gasping and trying to die.

Dayne spoke on instinct from the bottom of her heart, "Mama?" She pushed the mug she carried into Becca's hands and raced to the stricken woman's side. "Mama, Mama?"

"I think, you're directing your question to the wrong person, Dayne," Pia stepped out of the shade of the overgrown tree and into the harsh sunlight of the garden. Varna's blood covered her fine robes and soft skin.

"Why? Why would you do this?" Dayne asked as she hopelessly looked for a way to put Varna's belly back inside her body.

Pia swayed about like a dancer as she moved closer to the pair on the ground. Giggles erupted as she attempted to sing an ancient song for the dead. It came out more like half humming and half singing. Pia settled herself against the low wall surrounding the garden in order to face Dayne.

"Don't try to tell me you'll mourn the hag. Don't pretend. You couldn't have cared for her. I saw the scars on your body the day you passed out. Somebody beat you down ever chance they got and I'll wager it was this one. Don't try to tell me she was kind to you or in the least bit caring." Pia snorted, "And, don't you dare defend her. Not after she comes into my home to expose you and your lies! She says you are the ridded. Are you the ridded?"

"You didn't?" Dayne asked Varna in disbelief.

She held the dying woman with infinite care so as not to cause her additional pain. Dayne could see the truth in Varna's defiant stare. She searched the dying eyes of the only mother she had ever known and saw the true depths of Varna's hatred for her. Even still, on the brink of death, Varna felt no sympathy for the child raised in her home. Dayne felt her heart shatter. She was lost in a much different forest this day than on the night of her birth but lost just the same.

"You vile thing. Damn you to eternal misery," Becca cursed and spat on Varna. Becca was not lost. She was very angry. "Dayne, she's not worth one tear drop. Don't give her an ounce of your salt," Becca wrapped her free arm around her lover.

"So, you knew. Both of you knew Dayne was the ridded," Pia spoke with a hint of irritation in her voice.

"Yes, we knew," Dayne admitted.

"Did this witch tell you who your sire was?" Pia asked.

"No, never. I don't think anybody knows who my parents were," Dayne shrugged her shoulders. "Senecos, told me he found me before the wolves found me. More than that, I don't know."

Pia laughed, "You're lucky I'm a better interrogator than you are, my darling. You are also blessed that Felix is checking the border to our north today. If he had to suffer this creature's plotting none of you would've survived. With me, you have a much cooler head with which to deal. I'm your only real chance to live to see the next sun."

Dayne stood and Becca stood up right behind her. Before she could speak, Dayne felt Becca run her hand down her back. It was meant as reassurance and it eased Dayne's wounded heart.

"Did Varna tell you my sire?" Dayne choked on her tears. "Did she tell you the name of the coward who left me to the wolves?"

"Tread lightly, girl. Your father will not be as indulgent with your ignorance as I am. I guess, that's what makes us such a good pair, Felix and I," Pia said with a broad smile. "We compliment each other."

"General Felix? You?" Dayne stuttered.

Her legs started to buckle and she stumbled as she spoke. Becca staggered with her trying to steady her. The two ended up in a huddle of sorts: one supporting the other but neither standing on her own.

Pia ran her hand through her hair in an effort to gather her thoughts. The woman before her might have been hatched from her own body but Dayne was weak. Elos has no room for the weak. In spite of Waur's plan, Pia concluded a death at birth would have been the better option for Dayne.

"My husband applies the strictest interpretation to the rules of Waur. He believes no soldier should settle for daughters in his prime. Sons are the stalk of soldiers. Daughters can be sired on your death gurney by a wife or whore or on your retirement bed by a second wife, slave, or whore. Prime of life daughters are the puny man's faithless attempt at immortality." Pia grinned, "Five daughters I sacrificed at Waur's alter and look how strong Felix has become. He's in a position to rule all Elos. With my guidance, Felix will be king!"

"Five?" Dayne could not hold back her tears, "You gave him five babies to murder? What kind of mother are you? What kind of woman lets her babies be eaten by wolves? I grew inside you. Yet you were able to bare me and hand me over for slaughter. How?"

"FOR WAUR!" Pia screamed and raced toward Dayne.

Dayne shoved Becca to the ground, away from the frenzied approach. Pia slashed at Dayne's face with the edge of he bloodied blade. Dayne tumbled back but regained her footing. She fended off wild blows as best she could from the infuriated Pia. The fateful move came when Dayne raised her left hand to protect her eyes. Pia grabbed her by the wrist and smashed it hard against the wooded door frame. The knife easily glided between the two narrow bones in the Dayne's forearm. Her screams of pain brought a pleasant smile to Pia's sweaty face.

"Let's discuss this as if you had any manners whatsoever." Pia spoke in a reasonable tone as she went to a nearby table and removed the knife hidden in its draw. "You, for some purpose, were spared by Waur. My god speaks to you about weapons and such. I won't interfere with his plan and I'll make sure Felix doesn't either."

The knife in Pia's hand seemed to take a life of its own as she guided it through the air. It gleamed from side to side in blinding flashes of sunlight as it glided to Dayne's side. Pia let the knife's edge trail along the bloody line from Dayne's wound, down her left arm, across her heaving chest, and up to the shoulder of the other arm. Pia stopped long enough to grab the right wrist and pull it to the opposite side of the door frame.

"No, please don't," Dayne manage to whisper around her suffering.

With little more than a grunt, Pia drove the blade into the fragile tissue nestled between the thin bones of Dayne's right forearm. Dayne's agonized scream shook Varna's dead frame to the core and the new corpse fell over face first in the dirt.

"Now Dayne, you need to listen to me," Pia advised as she covered Dayne's mouth with blood stained fingers to dampen her cries. "Shhh, listen to your mommy, hush little girl, shhh."

Dayne's body trembled involuntarily from the pain and blood loss. She remained aware enough to be able to quiet herself. Swallowing hard several times, Dayne finally brought her tears under control. She gave Pia a short nod that she was ready to listen.

"Good girl," Pia patted her cheek. "Here's what's going to happen. You are going to pledge your loyalty to me. I'll cut you down and have your wounds tended. Maybe, I'll even give your slave a new dress. Won't that be nice? Hmm? None of us will speak of what the hag told us. You'll continue on here as a prisoner of Waur under General Felix's command. You'll make the weapons that'll give my husband an edge on his enemies and we will all enjoy the comforts he provides." Pia asked, "Agreed?"

Dayne mustered her ebbing strength and spit in Pia's face.

"I guess that would be a 'no' then," Pia's voice remained calm but her face went bright red with rage. "So, now you'll die like the hag as you watch me make your slave my own." Pia stepped back and almost fell over Becca kneeling by her feet. "Stupid girl, what are you doing there?"

"Mistress, please, wait a moment before you make a terrible mistake," Becca clutched at Pia's leg.

"What are you blubbering about? You're gonna get to live. Let me go!"

"Mistress, I can make Dayne obey you. She'll do what you say. Don't kill her and ruin the General's chance to become king." Becca felt Pia's resistance fading with her words. "The weapon is not ready yet. Dayne needs two days more and it will be done. You'll be pleased with her work, I'm sure of it." Becca looked up at Pia and made direct eye contact, "I promise, you'll never have need of another weapon again."

It was tempting. Pia stopped to consider the possibilities. Her hand went to Becca head and idly stroked the soft hair.

"You make it sound so easy," Pia said.

Becca got to her feet and lowered her eyes, "Mistress, you are overwrought. If you sit for a moment and think about it, it is easy. All that's required is to bend Dayne's will. I'm the key to that. There's no need to destroy a gift from your god." Becca took Pia's hand and lead her to a nearby chair. "Sit and I'll get you something to drink."

Pia sat in the chair taking care to smooth her blood soaked dress, "Dayne, you should listen to your slave. She has learned much from me since her arrival. Becca knows to respect her betters. You'd do well to follow her example."

Pia took the mug of wine from Becca without giving it a second look. She was too busy watching Dayne suffer. She took several quick gulps of the wine. It stung.

"Mistress, may I let Dayne down. She'll obey all your future commands. I'm certain of it," Becca said and a small grin spread across her face.

"Go ahead," Pia coughed slightly. Something had caught in her throat so she took another gulp of wine.

Becca went to Dayne's side. She braced her shoulder against her lover's chest. With one firm tug, she pulled the knife from Dayne's left arm. Ignoring her scream, Becca turned and did the same with her right arm. Gently, she lowered Dayne to sit with her back against the door frame. Becca immediately began to wrap Dayne's wounds in cloth torn from the hem of her dress.

"What have you done?" Pia gagged. Blood was dripping from her lips and nose, "Have you murdered me?"

"We have," Becca answered without a backward glance.

*  *  *

The gray eyed wolf smelled him. The Master had returned. The wolf's furry head popped up from the rest of the sleeping pack. He gave a short yap. All the others began to stir. All, except the old man. Senecos remained motionless on the floor. The wolf let out a long bay of mourning. The Master was too late.

PART 18

FELIX TROTTED HIS horse into the villa's courtyard. He was tired from a day of rooting out trouble makers at the border. They proved themselves to be slightly more than a nuisance. If his army didn't have the arrow launcher then the locals might have had a fighting chance.

Felix's attention was immediately drawn back to the courtyard. The household staff was milling around idly. Some were taking in the sun while others were engaging in sexual acts. Still, others were snacking on fruit and food stuffs. Felix felt his temper rising at the break in discipline. It was most likely because he had sent all the villa's soldiers north to assist the regular unit that the household slaves were slacking. He would set them right.

"What is the meaning of this? Where's Abel? PIA!" The General bellowed.

He dismounted without a second thought. A young slave immediately took his horse away with the General's sword still strapped to the saddle. No other slave paid Felix any heed.

"Stop at once! Get back to work or I'll hang you all by your tits!" Felix was incensed.

"I don't think you will, Father," Dayne spoke in a somber tone as Becca helped her to enter the courtyard.

Dayne was barely strong enough to walk a few feet with Becca. The pair had to stop on the third riser of the stone stairs. Becca lowered Dayne to sit on the steps.

"What? What did you say?" The General barked and began to stalk closer. The slaves in the courtyard started to turn their attention to him.

"It seems Pia had a visitor today. The woman who raised Dayne came to barter with the mistress of the house; knowledge for comforts. Turns out that you and Pia are Dayne's parents. Dayne is your daughter. Dayne is the ridded," Becca explained.

Felix hooted a laugh. "Oh, that's rich! Did Pia kill her on the spot or did she save a piece for me?"

"Killed. Gutted. Dead, dead, dead," Dayne muttered.

"Too bad. I would have enjoyed a moment or two with the one who stole Waur's sacrifice."

Dayne shook her head to clear her thoughts, "You knew? Knew I lived? How?"

"I went to check for proof of death the next day. With the others there was always a piece left behind. You know, something small like a toe or eye or hair. And the blood! It is unbelievable such tiny infants can hold so much blood. There was nothing with you though. Nothing but foot prints." Felix wiped the sweat off the back of his neck and noticed the slaves closing in around him, "I should have killed the old couple and you as you slept the next morning. Ah, hindsight! I thought Waur had bigger plans."

The slaves attacked on a signal from Becca. They used shear numbers to overwhelm the General's strength. Once they had him on the ground they tied his hands and feet.

"Waur does have bigger plans, General." Becca approached the bound man. With great care, she carved the Elosian sign for ridded into the tanned skin of his bald head. "My Dayne's hands were ruined by your bitch of a wife. So, I'll do this for her. It's fitting you'll die the way you left her to die."

Becca slapped the General's cheek lightly before she stood. Unable to resist her burning desire for revenge, she kicked the helpless man between the legs. She left him grunting in pain.

"What now?" Abel asked Dayne. "Do we go up against the army?"

"No. Too strong. We need to flee. Go anywhere. Becca, tell them," Dayne let her head slump onto Becca's shoulder after the woman settled back on the steps next to her.

"If you head to the northern border you might be able to catch up with the local warriors. That is, if you want to fight. If you want to leave this land then go through the villa's orchards. There's a seaport on the other side. It provides unrestricted travel if you have the price for passage. Take what you need from the villa and go."

The slaves stood quietly for a few moments. It took them that long to realize they were finally free to decide their own futures. After several minutes of mumblings, they started to break off into bands based on their common desires.

"What of him?" Abel was seething.

"He stays where he lays," Dayne struggled to her feet. "Let Waur choose his fate. It was good enough for me."

Becca stood with Dayne and steadied her. It would be slow traveling through the fields on foot but it would be safer than horse back. She squeezed her lover a little closer and Dayne flashed her a perfect but sleepy smile.

"It's not enough. Do you have any idea what he and his wife did to us, to me?" Abel was fighting back tears.

Becca winced at her own memories.

"Abel. Leave him. Don't waste time on revenge. Get away. Come with us or go fight in the north. But, don't die here," Dayne's voice was strained with the effort.

Abel frowned at the pair. He did not like the advice but he took it and left them.

"We should get going too," Becca whispered to Dayne and tugged her toward the field.

Dayne nodded but never took her eyes off Felix. He struggled on the ground trying to free himself. The slaves were careful to knot the ropes very tight. There was no give.

"I'll find you, Dayne. And when I do, I'll slice you from scalp to heal while your whore watches," Felix promised has he spat out dirt and blood.

Dayne stopped and looked over her shoulder, "No, you won't. You'll be eaten alive before the next sunrise."

Dayne and Becca walked away from the cursing General. As their shapes faded in the distance and the day began to cool, Felix began to sweat. The villa became deserted fairly quickly. All that remained was the stench of rotting corpses. The smell of death surrounded Felix. He frantically struggled against the ropes again but no success. His frenzied efforts stopped the instant he heard a sudden rustle of leaves. A wolf howled nearby. General Felix pissed himself.

*  *  *

Becca sat with Dayne's head propped on her lap. They traveled until just after dusk. Alternating between walking and resting. When they were fortunate enough to find a natural indentation in the stone hillside along the southern end of the orchards, Becca decided they should stop for the night. It provided a comfortable pocket, safe from the elements.

"Aren't you worried about wolves?" Dayne was wrapped snuggly in several blankets taken from Pia's bedroom. "Maybe a fire?"

"No. A fire might keep wolves back but it might also attract soldiers. I think we're better off cuddling up and hoping Waur continues to watch over you," Becca spoke softly as she smoothed Dayne's hair back off her face.

"So, tire," Dayne yawned.

"Sleep, my love. I'll keep up safe until you're stronger."

Wild barks and vicious howls broke the stillness of the night air from somewhere in the distance. Becca thought she heard screaming as well but couldn't be sure. Dayne stirred slightly in her arms, then drifted back to a sound sleep. The night grew quiet again and even Becca found a few minutes of rest.

*  *  *

The seaport was crowded. Many of the travelers were seeking passage for distant countries and were willing to pay extra for discretion. The Elosian military was nearly non-existent. All soldiers were pulled back to the outpost camp to regroup. The occupation was in chaos since General Felix's death.

Reuben tugged at his stiff white tunic shirt as he stood in front of a run down inn. The flimsy material was nearly suffocating. He felt almost naked without a uniform or weapon. At the moment, the lack of protection was a necessary evil. The only way he could book passage to his mother's homeland would be as a civilian.

He had spent half the morning searching for the captain of a ship sailing on the morning tide. The inn was last on the list of places the crew mentioned he might be. Reuben was ready to resign himself to the likelihood he would not find the captain in time. He pushed the door open and walked into the dark, stuffy building.

"Sir, have you seen a ship's captain," Reuben asked the bar keep.

"More of 'em than stars. Buy somethin' or leave," the dirty, round man behind the counter responded.

Reuben sighed. He was sure to be stuck in this filthy country until after the next full moon.

"A room, a meal, some strong drink, enough?"

"No rooms left, the rest we have. Which ship you talking about?" The bar keep gave a wink.

"The one heading for Greece on the morning tide," Reuben felt every ache in his body protest as he realized it would be another night sleeping outside on the ground.

The bar keep laughed, "Captain's at the top of the stairs bookin' two passengers right now. Might want to run up and make sure they don't get the last berth."

Reuben raced to the stairs. His heart pounding in time with the footfalls. He wanted so much to go home. If he missed his chance by moments then he was positive he'd go mad. When he reached the landing, he was dumbstruck at the sight before him.

"Reuben?" Becca turned from the Captain to approach the soldier.

Reuben couldn't answer her. He looked directly at the Captain and begged, "I must get to Greece. I must leave on the morning tide."

The Captain slapped his belly, "We might have had a bidding war, boy, but these two got too much on you, I'm sure. Their coffers run deep. Right, Mistress Becca?"

"Captain, Reuben is traveling with us. I didn't think I needed to inform you our servant would be joining us," Becca slipped easily into the lie. "You have our down payment. The rest is payable on arrival. We'll see you on the dock at sunrise. Good day, sir. Reuben, come inside at once. You've kept us waiting far too long," Becca spoke in a stern manner as she hustled the confused soldier into the room and slammed the door.

Reuben was panting. He thought he might collapse. Becca took his hand and guided him to the fireplace. She sat him down with a firm push on the shoulders. He nodded his thanks but could not find his voice.

"Hello, cousin," Dayne coughed out as she sat up in the bed. "Where've you been?"

"I could ask the same," he managed. "Cousin?"

"How much do you know?" Becca knelt next to him and handed him a cup of strong brew.

Reuben took a long pull before he started his tale. "I sent Varna to Pia. She was up to no good."

"Dead," Dayne struggled to her feet and wobbled over to sit face to face with Reuben.

"Went to rescue Senecos. She left him alone. I was too late," Reuben blinked away a tear. "Sorry."

"He picked his sides," Becca said bitterly.

Dayne wiped her own tears away. She nodded acknowledgement of both of their comments. She reached out and took Becca's hand in her own two. Dayne was able to manage a weak squeeze but it was better than no squeeze at all.

"The villa," Reuben stopped for another swallow of the drink. "Varna, Pia, Felix; they're all,"

"Dead," Dayne provided. She gave a small smile when she felt Becca squeeze her hands back. Better. "Why are you out of uniform?"

Reuben shook his head and stifled a burp, "Going home. Back to Greece. Renouncing Elos. Renouncing Waur."

"Your mother's people? You're going home to your mother," Dayne smiled when Reuben nodded. "You told me your mother would love a daughter like me when I was in prison."

Reuben wiped away the drool at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, "She would."

"What about a niece?" Becca asked.

"Huh," Reuben realized that his exhaustion, lack of food, and sleep were making him a bit slow. "What are you talking about?"

Dayne bowed her head and parted her hair enough for Reuben to see the scars. He moved closer and let his fingers trace the marks. When the meaning hit him, Reuben grabbed Dayne by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug.

"I knew you looked like my sister. That bastard, Felix. Dayne, you must come home with me. My mother will force my father to make it right. We do not abandon family," Reuben sobbed as he held her close. "Becca, tell her to bring you to my mother's. Tell Dayne to bring you home."

Becca kissed Reuben's cheek and Dayne's head before speaking, "I don't have to tell her. We're more than ready to find our way home. Right?"

Dayne grinned, "Absolutely! Let's go home for the very first time."

THE END