Tales of Erogenia: Episode 3

by L'Espion

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Episode 3: The Mountain of Fire

Chapter 1: Lost

She was magnificent; perhaps the most magnificent woman Queron had ever seen and he was a fine judge of woman flesh. Tall, broad-shouldered, and muscled like a warrior, he did not have to see her wield the long blade she had strapped over her left shoulder to know that she could fight. He adjusted the glass and moved it over her sun-bronzed body, noting her long legs, slender hips and narrow waist. Then she turned slightly giving him a full profile. He pursed his lips in appreciation, his eyes lingering on her full breasts, flat belly, and elegant neck. Her long dark hair was worn in a long braid that trailed down her back, almost reaching the curve of her backside

Her eyes appeared to be some shade of green, something that was difficult to determine through the viewing tube, but he could clearly see her full lips and high cheekbones. He moved the glass slightly to take in her male companion. He was similar in a few ways, being tall board-shouldered and dark-haired, but there the similarities ended.

By any standards, the woman was lightly dressed, clad only in loose-fitting trousers that allowed ease of movement and a long flowing top. Strapped over her clothing was a light leather harness that held her sword, a long-bladed knife, and a few small pouches. The man, on the other hand was completely overdressed for the climate, wearing full body armour that shone so brightly that Queron could barely look at it.

They were a puzzling pair. For one thing, they seemed to have appeared from nowhere. Surely with that bright armour his small scouting party should have seen them long before they stumbled upon them. Something equally puzzling was the fact that they were on foot. Walking across the never-ending plain in the baking heat carrying that amount of armour should have been impossible, but there they were.

Queron lowered the viewing tube and Daget prodded him from behind. "Let me see," he demanded, holding out his hand for the tube.

Queron frowned. The delicate instrument had cost him a small fortune and he hated to let it out of his grasp, but in the interests of maintaining good relations with the other two scouts he handed it over, but not before admonishing Daget first. "You drop it and I'll have your balls."

Daget, however, appeared not to be listening, he had the viewing tube jammed against his eye. "By Voln, I'd like to get between her legs. What do you think she's worth?"

"Depends on whether or not she's a virgin," Queron answered. "They always go for more, but just the way she is I'd say a gold talent. More if she can be broken."

"The breaking part is what I like," came a voice from behind.

Queron turned his head to look over his shoulder. "You think too much with your cock, Gron. We haven't even caught her yet."

Gron shrugged. "Just a matter of time. They don't even know we're here."

Queron had to concede that point. The viewing tube gave him a tremendous advantage when scouting, allowing him to sit back and study his intended victims from a safe distance. He and his two companions were snuggled down in a cluster of large boulders in a slightly raised position on the almost flat plain. Hidden from the view of any Urulana hunting parties they could scout out the terrain before moving to a more exposed position. The two white-skinned warriors were something of a bonus, but where they had come from still eluded him.

He should have seen them, but it was almost as if they had materialized out of nowhere. That, and their rather unusual appearance made him uneasy and he wished that Daget had not called on the god of thieves so openly. It did not pay to invoke any god rashly.

"By the Moon and Sun," Zenaria muttered. "Where did Alzid send us? This place looks nothing like Erogenia." She looked at Varden. The knight was shifting uncomfortably in his armour.

"I don't think we are going to be able to get back to Jingua from here," she said. "Perhaps you should get out of all that cast iron before you roast."

"It's the finest Kivalian steel and was created by a master smith of our order," Varden protested, his handsome face dripping with sweat.

"Right now it is just so much useless weight. We are going to have to stash it someplace along with everything else that is too heavy to carry." She looked at the pile at her feet; the fine armour and other gifts given to her by the Jinguan emperor to present to her mother the Queen of the Clan of the Snow Leopard. It would have to be left until she and Varden figured out where they were and how they were going to get back to their homelands.

She looked at the bizarre landscape in front of her. She had never imagined there could be a place quite like it. It was a vast plain dotted here and there with strange trees with thorn-studded branches that spread out horizontally from the top like giant flowers. Here and there were patches of brush, but the dominant feature of the landscape was sun- browned grass that stretched as far as the eye could see.

However, the vegetation was the least remarkable aspect of the landscape. Everywhere she looked the vast plain was dotted with animals; thousands of them. Some were recognizable as variants of animals she had seen before. There were herbivores with spiked horns that ranged in size from tiny deer-like animals to others with twisted horns that were bigger than a horse. There were horse-like animals striped in patterns of black and white that ran in huge herds and other herd animals resembling cattle with massive bow-shaped horns.

But the most bizarre were immense grey animals with ears the size of small tents, a huge prehensile nose, and massive teeth that curved forward from their mouths. Only once before had Zenaria seen anything like them and that was when she had accompanied her mother on a two month journey to the isolated clan of the Ice Bear. She had seen huge hairy beasts the size of huts that very much resembled the animals she was looking at.

It was then that she noticed a movement in one of the trees and realized she was looking at an equally amazing animal, one that stood the height of three men, with a neck that took up half its body length and left it head high in the branches of the strange trees.

Varden too stood transfixed by the spectacle of such a huge and varied concentration of wildlife. "This be indeed a strange land," he commented. "I have never seen so many beasts."

"Yes," Zenaria agreed. "We should have good hunting in this land. At least will not want for food." She turned in a slow circle and noticed a cluster of large boulders a few hundred yards off. "That might be a good place to establish a camp and stow our gear."

Varden nodded his agreement. "Thou speak wisely," he said, reverting to the archaic mode of speech that Zenaria found so annoying. But the knight missed her frown and was already gathering his possessions in preparation to moving toward the rocks.

Queron hurriedly put away his viewing tube as the two strangers moved toward his hiding place. He wasn't sure why they had started to come his way, but he guessed it was for the same reason he had chosen to shelter in the cluster of boulders. Moving quietly backwards, he and his companions moved away from the approaching warriors.

He stopped in a small grove of trees and bushes. There was a muttered curse from Gron as he snagged himself on one of the thorn bushes, and Queron glared him into silence. Settling himself carefully to avoid the thorns he trained the viewing tube on the cluster of boulders.

"Voln," he muttered ignoring his own proscription against blasphemy. He could just see the approaching strangers between a gap in the rocks and to describe the woman as breathtaking was an understatement. She moved with the fluid grace of a cat, every line of her body exuding vigilance and danger. Suddenly, she dropped her burden and drew her sword so quickly that he barely saw the flash of the blade. Then she lowered the blade lifted a still writhing form from the ground. She studied it for a few seconds and then with a flick of her wrist tossed the sinuous form aside.

"That's was a black viper," Duget whispered. "How did she move that fast?"

Queron shook his head. He was quickly revising his plans for capturing the two strangers. If the man had anything like the woman's reflexes he wanted better odds on his side. Grudgingly he handed the viewing tube to Duget. "Keep them in sight. I'm going to get the rest of the men. This one is just too good not to take when we have the chance."

Daget grinned, making it plain that using the viewing tube to keep an eye on the exotically beautiful woman was not a task he found at all difficult. "Just keep your cock in your drawers," Queron cautioned. "I don't have a doubt that warrior bitch could cut it off in a heartbeat. I want you here when I get back."

Zenaria tucked the last of Varden's armour into the small cave she had found. Then she got the knight's help in rolling a large boulder across the entrance. "That should prevent any accidental discoveries," she said. "Now we have to find somewhere to camp."

"Why not here?" Varden asked, wiping sweat from his brow. It seems defensible enough."

"No water," Zenaria answered. "But with all of this game there must be a source nearby. I would prefer to camp close to it rather than have to carry it all the way back here."

Varden nodded. He was finding the heat oppressive and was glad he had followed Zenaria's advice and stripped off his heavy armour. He now wore only light cotton trousers, a leather vest, light boots, and studded leather cuffs on his wrists. Like Zenaria he wore a leather harness that carried his sword with its hilt over his left shoulder along with a large knife in his belt and the hilt of a smaller blade protruding from the top of his boot.

Zenaria picked up her bow and slung her quiver over her shoulder. "Come; let's see if the gods will favour us with a successful hunt."

Given the huge herds of animals Varden had a hard time believing that a hunter of Zenaria's skills would have any difficulty and he was proven correct when in less than an eighth turn of the sun she brought down one of the strange spike-horned deer. Quickly she slit its throat and then knelt beside it thanking her twin gods and the spirits of nature that had given the animal to her. Varden looked on curiously. He had witnessed this ritual before, but the stern god he worshipped did not admit to the existence of any other deities. It was a belief system that troubled him somewhat, given the marvels and bizarre events he had witnessed as Zenaria's companion and lover, but he suffered from a lifetime of religious conditioning and his beliefs were not easy to shake off.

She worked quickly, bleeding and gutting the animal and then tossing it effortlessly over her shoulder before heading off toward a thin line of green about half a league away.

"Why this way?" Varden asked. To him one direction seemed about as good as another.

"Those trees," Zenaria answered, gesturing toward the horizon. They are a brighter shade of green than the rest of the vegetation. There may be water there."

Varden shaded his eyes. If he stared hard and used his imagination he could convince himself that the trees were actually a brighter green, but he noticed nothing until he and Zenaria had closed most of the distance.

The trees were not the only thing Varden looked at. After the incident with the venomous snake he kept his eyes open for other dangers. He was surrounded by strange animals, many of whom appeared exceedingly dangerous and he kept in mind that if Zenaria had not spotted the snake he would probably have stepped on it.

He had never visualized dying a horrible death at the fangs of a serpent far from his homeland when he had joined his holy order. But he and Zenaria seemed irretrievably lost, transported far across the world by a powerful magician. He understood that the Jinguan magician who called himself Alzid had not intended to strand them in the strange land where they now found themselves; on the contrary, he had been attempting to return them to their homelands, but something obviously had gone wrong with his spell. Varden doubted very much that Alzid was even aware of his mistake, which meant that he and Zenaria were on their own. Somehow they would have to find their way back, although how they were going to do that he had no idea. He did know one thing. If he was to be stranded in a strange land forever, he could think of no better person to be with than the resourceful barbarian he had come to love.

He and Zenaria had become lovers by pure chance. Tricked into obtaining a magical artefact by an evil magician, they had been captured and imprisoned, and as part of a cruel joke by the magician turned into a leopard and a lion. Trapped in their animal bodies they had been placed in a cell together and fed raw meat by their captors. Zenaria's leopard body had gone into heat and Varden had mounted her, completely unable to control himself. It was not exactly an act of human love, but upon being restored to their human form they had become passionate lovers, Zenaria's more relaxed attitude toward sex overcoming Varden's religious hypocrisy.

The love affair with the beautiful Snow Leopard warrior had shaken Varden's convictions. How could something so wondrous be considered sinful and evil? It had resulted in a considerable reshaping of his beliefs; a reshaping that continued the longer he was with the headstrong warrior.

He stopped his musing as Zenaria let out a low exclamation. "There you see. I knew I could find water."

She was pointing to the ground and Varden noted that the surface was pitted with thousands of animal tracks. The discovery only made Varden more wary. Where animals went to drink their might be predators lying in wait.

Zenaria seemed to agree with him. She shortened her long stride and became even more alert, her head held high as if she was sniffing the air. "I think it's safe," she said, "but we will go carefully."

Zenaria leading, they moved slowly through the stand of trees bordering the river and found themselves looking at a muddy stretch of slow moving water about one hundred yards across. If was a far cry from the clear splashing mountain streams Zenaria had grown up with or even the larger rivers of greater Erogenia. This water moved sluggishly and was the home of another host of strange creatures.

Simulating logs, huge lizards lay along the muddy river bank and floated idly in the water. In the river itself were even larger creatures with mouths large enough to swallow a man whole. Zenaria frowned as she realized her idea of having a quiet swim was no longer practical. "We'll camp here for now. It's got water and we can build some sort of shelter out of the thorn bushes."

She set about preparing their shelter first, reckoning that in this strange land security should be the number one priority. Using their knives she and Varden cut down enough thorn bushes to surround their camp with an almost impenetrable barrier. They left a gap that could be easily closed and Zenaria made a trek down to the river bank to get drinking water. Then she prepared supper.

It was a meal of meat. Zenaria didn't recognize any of the local plants and had no idea which were edible and which were not. She piled up firewood and using flint and steel soon had a fire going. She sliced off a couple of steaks and set them to cook on a simple grill of woven branches. While the meat sizzled she sliced the liver of the animal she had killed into thin strips and popped a sliver into her mouth and then offered a piece to Varden.

The knight looked askance at her. "Shouldn't this be cooked first?"

"We lack greens and fruit," Zenaria replied. "Until I figure out what plants are edible raw liver is a useful source of nutrients that cooked meat lacks."

"That's easy for you to say," Varden said, as he took the sliver from her. "You barbarians probably eat raw meat all the time. But I like mine cooked."

Zenaria glowered at him. "We are stranded in a strange land and we could be here a long time. I think it might be a good idea to eat as well as we can. But if you don't want it, I'll eat it."

Varden looked uncomfortable. When they had first met, Zenaria had found him almost insufferable due to his priggish attitudes, but he had mellowed a great deal since that first meeting and had learned that Zenaria knew a great deal more about staying alive in the wild than he did. Slowly he reached out and took the sliver and popped it into his mouth.

Zenaria grinned as Varden grimaced. "Just swallow it whole if it bothers you that much. She picked up another strip and chewed it with obvious relish. "When I was a girl we used to eat the liver like candy."

Varden made another face. "I need a couple of pints of ale to wash this down. When are the steaks ready?"

"Soon," Zenaria replied, offering him another slice of liver. "You'll just have to wait for the ale until we reach someplace more settled. Assuming we can find such a place."

Varden nodded. For all he knew they might be the only two humans alive in this strange land.

It didn't take long for the steaks to cook. Varden had to be content to wash down the meal with river water. Zenaria had taken the precaution of digging a small well a few feet from the river in order to filter the water before drinking it in the hope of straining out any impurities it might have. It was an appropriate precaution considering the amount of wildlife that had no doubt defecated in it.

"Now what?" Varden asked, as he finished his second steak.

"Now," Zenaria replied, "we sleep." She motioned toward the sleeping pallet she had constructed for herself out of the fronds of a leafy plant she had found near the river. "Unless you have other ideas."

Varden smiled. Slowly he pulled off his boots. "Other ideas sounds very inviting."

It was an interesting night, and not just because she and Varden made love to the point of exhaustion, finally falling asleep wrapped in one another's arms. Under Zenaria's instruction Varden had evolved into a very good lover. He had learned just how to touch her and where, and almost as important he had the anatomy of a horse in a very important area.

But the round of heavy breathing was not the only significant event of the evening. It was the cacophony that erupted around them as soon as the sun went down. Even the sounds of their love-making and Zenaria's sharp cries of passion could not drown the sheer volume of night noises that surrounded them. It sounded as if every animal alive was right next to their campsite and tearing one another limb from limb.

"Predators hunt at night," Zenaria observed, glad she had taken the precaution of situating their campsite in the middle of a thick grove of thorn bush. She lifted her head and kissed Varden. "Try to get some sleep. We'll need to be rested if we are to survive in this hostile land."

Whether Varden slept or not, Zenaria had no idea, but she awoke just at dawn, refreshed in spite of her night time exertions. She kissed Varden lightly and then rolled to her feet. Strapping on her sword she began to tug at the thorn barrier she had erected across the entrance to their campsite. A few heartbeats later she was joined by Varden.

"I would have thought you'd be a bit too tired to get up this early," the knight observed. He didn't seem at all upset at not being allowed to sleep longer. In fact his mouth was twisted in a grin.

"I find making love invigorating," Zenaria replied, tugging the thorn barrier aside. She grinned at the look Varden gave her. "Later lover. First we have to find out if we are the only people in this land."

They emerged from the thorn barrier. Chewing on some of the cooked meat from the animal Zenaria had brought down, they moved cautiously through the landscape. Other than the sound of birds the land seemed strangely quiet. It was almost as if the animal world had exhausted itself during the night and was now resting up. However, there were clear signs of the night's activity in the actions of dog-like creatures that were tearing at the carcasses of several dead animals. Overhead large long-necked birds circled waiting their turn or hovered on the edge just out of reach of the dogs. Zenaria wondered what had done the killing. Whatever it was must have been powerful as several of the dead animals were the large-horned cows. It served to emphasize the need for constant vigilance. As yet they were aware of only the more obvious dangers. It would not pay to be complacent after having survived only one night.

"Where now?" Varden asked. He was allowing Zenaria to lead, acknowledging her wilderness abilities.

"There," Zenaria pointed.

Varden squinted off into the distance. "Why that way?"

"That strange mountain. It will help keep us on a straight path. Other than that, it is simply as good a direction as any."

Varden shaded his eyes with his hands. Far off across the shimmering landscape was a cone-shaped peak rising out of the plain. He sighed. It was a long way off, and he was not used to walking, but he guessed that he would be before this adventure was over.

Chapter 2: Thorns

By the end of the day, Varden's feet felt as if he was walking on coals. His body stank of sweat and more than anything else he wanted a good swim. But they had not seen the faintest trace of water other than a few muddy holes filled with animal tracks and too badly fouled to be safe to drink.

They survived on a small waterskin that Zenaria had made out of the stomach of the animal she had killed. By the end of the day it was almost empty and Zenaria tucked it into her belt. Most annoyingly Zenaria seemed in much better shape than Varden was and he glowered at her as they finally stopped to rest.

"Cheer up Sir Knight; we'll find water when we get closer to the mountain. See how it shines."

"What has shining to do with water?" Varden asked.

"Snow, you Kivalian moose. The top of the mountain is covered with snow."

"How can a mountain have snow in all this heat?" Varden growled. "It would melt."

Even you must know that the gods decreed that the temperature drops as the altitude increases."

"We were not taught such things in the order," Varden sneered. "Only priests and scholars dabble in such knowledge."

Zenaria looked at him incredulously. "That knowledge might just save your life, Sir Knight. Where there is snow there is water."

Zenaria did not comment further. Sometimes Varden's ignorance astounded her. Had they not been thrust together by chance and if he had not saved her life twice she doubted she would have had anything to do with him. She did admit that the knight was brave, kind, and noble to a fault, but his ignorance and self-righteousness sometimes grated on her and this was one of those sometimes.

She reminded herself that he was also very good in a fight, and just as good in a bed, even if most of the times they had made love they had never been anywhere near a bed. "Time to camp," she said. "Over there." She pointed to a thick grove of the ubiquitous thorn bush. It looked to be near impenetrable, and therefore, perfect for their purposes.

"I'll see what I can find for supper," Zenaria said, stringing her bow. "You set up camp."

"Certainly, princess," Varden replied. He took out his knife, and carefully approaching the thorns began to hack out a campsite.

Zenaria smiled and looked about for suitable prey. Since she and Varden were not planning on staying long she had decided against killing one of the larger animals, although she was sure that it would not go to waste. But it went against her upbringing. Warriors of the Snow Leopard never killed anything they did not intend to eat except in self defence. She looked for one of the spike-horned deer she had killed the previous day and soon found one.

However, this deer turned out to be not quite as cooperative as the one she had brought down on the previous day. It caught sight of her and bounded away with thirty foot leaps. Undaunted Zenaria followed, moving in a circular path to approach from downwind. The deer proved to be particularly cautious, moving steadily away and frustrating her plans to get close enough for a clear shot. But Zenaria was not about to give up that easily. She needed the meat the deer would provide for Varden and herself and she was not about to switch to easier prey like one of the cow-like animals that made little effort to escape.

She circled still wider eventually getting into a position from which she could approach the skittish deer from behind a screen of thorns bushes. Slowly she edged closer until the deer was barely fifty yards away. Just as she was about to draw her bow, however, a large chicken-like bird darted out from in front of her. It was the deer's salvation and the chicken's doom. As the deer bounded away once more Zenaria switched her aim to the chicken and caught it dead centre. A heartbeat later a second bird flew up and Zenaria drew and fired almost reflexively.

She knelt by the two birds and completed her ritual of thanking the gods and spirits and then got suddenly to her feet, alerted by the sound of something heavy crashing through the bush. She was just in time to see something vaguely familiar charging toward her. It was a giant animal that at first glance seemed covered with armour. Its nose sported two horns, one behind the other; the one in front almost the length of her forearm and the second horn about half that.

She knew the animal; sort of. She had been attacked in her homeland by the great woolly rhinoceros and readily recognized its smaller kin, if a beast that probably weighed forty times what she did could be considered small. It pushed its way through the thorn bushes as if they did not exist and charged toward her.

Zenaria was trapped against the thorns, but given the choice between being trampled and some painful scratches, she chose the latter. Leaping to one side she crashed into the thorns, ignoring the pain as the rhino roared past just a hand's breadth away from her.

The huge animal turned with amazing speed, swinging back toward her while Zenaria fought to free herself from the thorns that now entangled her clothing. As she did so, she caught sight of the reason for the rhino's attack as an infant version of the monster trundled into view. Quite by chance the baby rhino headed straight toward her attracting the huge parent once more. She had no choice. Ignoring the agonizing pain she pushed deeper into the thorns and through to the other side, leaving considerable amounts of her flesh and clothing on the sharp barbs.

But she was still not safe. The mother rhino followed, brushing aside the needle sharp thorns and heading straight for her. Desperately Zenaria tried to use her agility to dart aside, but the thorns caught her, leaving her directly in the path of the rhino. At the last heartbeat she tore free, but not enough to prevent the horn from hooking her low. It caught the fleshy part of her thigh; and then she was flying through the air tumbling like a rag doll. The landing was as painful as the flight, a thorn bush breaking her fall and laving her hopelessly caught, her body pierced in more than a score of places.

She was too much of a warrior to faint, but the pain was excruciating. Bleeding from a hundred wounds, with dozens of thorns piercing her flesh, she lay on top of the bush, her weight slowly pushing her deeper into the flesh-shredding thorns. For a few heartbeats Zenaria hardly dared move; then as she realized what was happening she tried to struggle free. A savage wave of pain surged through her. For an instant her vision blurred and blackness swept across her eyes; but she fought back from unconsciousness, knowing that in this savage land passing out would certainly mean her death.

She moved as slowly and carefully as she could, but even the tiniest movement brought pain so exquisite that it pushed her to the edge of consciousness. But she couldn't pass out. She could hear movement near her and overhead the huge long-necked birds were circling. She was now prey and if she didn't escape the scavengers would tear her bleeding body apart.

With a tremendous effort of will Zenaria tore herself free, dropping to the ground free of the thorns. She found herself face to face with a score of the dog-like scavengers she had seen earlier. Up close they were formidable creatures with huge heads, thick necks and powerful forequarters. Massive jaws dripped with saliva and they made cries that were disturbingly human as they slowly edged toward her.

Zenaria had long since dropped her bow, and she drew her sword and knife, swaying slightly as she tried to fight off the impact of her ordeal. She was close to collapse; something that would result in her being almost instantly torn to pieces. She had no doubt the huge jaws of the beasts she faced would make very short work of her.

It was her good fortune that they did not come at her all at once. Instead the boldest came at her first, striking low as if to hamstring her. Instead it met the point of her sword, its own impetus skewering it. Zenaria immediately wrenched her point free. She had hardly exerted herself in the attack, but she felt weak. She was bleeding profusely from the gash the rhino horn had made in her thigh and the hundred or so wounds inflicted on her by the thorn bushes constantly wept blood. By rights she should have attempted to staunch the flow of blood, but faced by the pack of predatory dogs she had no choice but to defend herself.

A second dog came at her and a third. Zenaria cut them both down, gaining a respite as the other dogs cannibalized their dead fellows. But she had no time to tend to any of her wounds. Close to collapse she leaned on her sword and waited for the next attack.

Warned by the fate of their fellows, however, the dogs chose not to attack her head on. Instead they tried to find a way to circle behind her. But Zenaria had her back to the thorn bushes that had so badly savaged her. Now they kept her from being attacked from all sides. That did not stop the dogs from trying, however, several of them attempting to get beneath the bushes and come at her from the side.

It boiled down to a stalemate. The dogs circled for an opening and Zenaria waiting for them to attack. However, unless her wounds were tended Zenaria knew that that standoff could have only one outcome; one that the dogs seemed to understand. Eventually she would be too weak to defend herself. Already her legs were shaking from the effort to stay on her feet. She had lost too much blood; it was only a matter of time, and not very much time at that.

And then suddenly dogs were flying in all directions as a whirlwind of slashing steel hurtled into them. Zenaria took a step forward and fell to her knees as her legs gave way, but Varden didn't need her help. Intent on their prey the knight had come upon the dogs unaware and cut down several of them before they even realized her was there. The others made a brief attempt to resist and then fled before the knight's slashing blade, leaving ten of their number dead in front of Zenaria.

Varden moved to her as Zenaria struggled to rise, ashamed of her weakness. "Stay down, princess." Varden's words were a command, not a request, and unaccustomed as Zenaria was to taking orders, she readily complied. Rarely had she felt such weakness and it was clear even to her that she had been badly injured.

"We have to stop the bleeding," Varden continued. "And that leg wound comes first." As he spoke he removed Zenaria's belt knowing that was where she kept her medicine kit. He opened the pouch and took out a needle and a length of catgut.

Zenaria lay still and let him work. She was really too weak to do much else, but she knew she was in good hands. In spite of Varden's martial inclinations the Knights of the Silver Order were trained to heal as well as kill and Varden was blessed with a power that went far beyond the abilities of the ordinary healer.

She didn't even wince as the knight used their scarce water to wash out the gaping wound the rhino's horn had made in her thigh. Warriors of the Snow leopard carried stoicism to an extreme and she lay completely still as the edges of her wound were pinched together and the needle bit into her flesh.

Varden's skill with the needle matched his skill with the sword, but Zenaria's senses dimmed. She felt herself slipping into sleep and fought to stay awake. Varden noticed as well. "Stay awake, princess. You can sleep after I've healed you; not before."

Zenaria forced her eyes open. It helped that everything Varden was doing was incredibly painful, but she said nothing as he moved to treating her other wounds. These were numerous and quite a few required stitching, but nothing to match the mumber of stitches on the wound in her thigh. Many of the sharp thorns, some of them up to four inches long, had broken off and had to be pulled out before Varden could begin his healing.

Calmly and methodically Varden went about treating Zenaria, removing her clothing as he did so. There wasn't much to remove as most of it had been torn to shreds, but he carefully hung it up on one of the thorn bushes until he had stripped Zenaria down to her skin. Only when he was certain he had removed every thorn did the knight lay his hands on her and close his eyes.

Varden had healed her before, but it was a sensation Zenaria never got used to. She felt her body warm beneath his hands as the knight invoked his saints and called forth his power. The heat increased until sweat poured from every pore in her skin and sweat streamed down her bloodied body; and still the heat mounted until she felt as if she was engulfed in flames and then it was gone, leaving her weak as a kitten. Gently Varden placed his hand upon her forehead. "Now sleep, princess."

Zenaria's eyes were already closed, and she needed no urging. Sleep came so quickly that she didn't even have time to reply before the world faded.

She awoke weak, but refreshed and ravenously hungry. The sun was in its midmorning position and she guessed that she had probably slept. A delicious smell came to her nostrils and she sat up salivating. A few feet away Varden was tending a fire. He looked up and smiled as he saw that she was awake. "How fares my princess?"

"Well," Zenaria answered. "But very hungry."

Actually she was better than well. Varden's gift had the unfortunate effect of healing everything, leaving her body as unblemished as a newborn. It even restored her virginity a side-effect she found somewhat irritating. However, even more galling was the fact that it also eliminated all trace of her battle scars. How would anyone in the Clan of the Snow Leopard know of her accomplishments if she bore not a single trace of her adventures?

"What are you cooking?" she asked, noting that what Varden was tending over the fire looked vaguely familiar.

"I found these birds just a few yards from here and got to them before the scavengers did. They had your arrows in them, so I thought it only right to claim them."

As if guessing her next question Varden spoke again. "There was and is a plentiful supply of dog. It is a bit stringy, but quite edible. I thought it best to save these for when thou awoke from thy sleep."

Zenaria had eaten dog before and found it quite good when boiled, but she decided to spare Varden that information in favour of accepting the roast foul. It was very good and not surprisingly tasted quite a bit like chicken. She ate all that she was given and still wanted more, but had to be content with just one. She knew it was part of the healing process. Varden's healing drew partly on the spiritual and partly on the resources of her own body. It left her with an appetite that a single chicken could not satisfy. "Perhaps," she said, "I might try some of that dog. After all they tried to eat me."

"Drink first," he said handing her the water skin. She noticed that it was full and looked at Varden inquiringly.

"I followed the animals," he said. "Surprisingly I found a spring that was not fouled. We can fill up there before continuing."

Zenaria reached for her tattered clothes. "I will have to hunt first. These will no longer do."

"Tomorrow," Varden replied. "Today thou rest. Tomorrow thy may assume thy accustomed role."

Zenaria lay back. Tomorrow would do. After all they still had no idea where they were or where they were going.

Chapter 3: Slavers

The trail could not have been easier to follow if their prey had left a trail of flags to guide Queron and his band. They had added incentive to catch up the two warriors now that they had found the cache of armour. The value of the finely worked metal was worth a hundred ordinary slaves and ideas of ransom now flicked through Queron's mind. It seemed very possible that the mysterious couple were some sort of exotic royalty although what they were doing in the middle of nowhere he had no idea.

Gron as usual had a theory. "I think it's sorcery. How else could they be here? They clearly don't belong."

"Strange for sorcerers to be walking," Daget observed.

"What do you know about sorcerers?" Gron countered. "Maybe they came on a magic carpet and it flew away."

"This conversation is stupid," Queron said. "Let's just catch the two of them. We can decide what they are after we have the ropes on them."

Zenaria kept up a steady pace, forcing Varden to keep up. The knight wasn't used to walking, but she wanted to cross the seemingly endless plain before they ran into any other dangers. In a way they had been lucky that it was she who had been attacked. If it had been Varden he might have died since she had no healing powers. At the very least they would have been held up for days or even weeks while he recovered from his injuries. As it was they were able to set out the next day although Zenaria was careful not to push herself too hard. Varden's healing powers were extraordinary, but the effort of healing took a bit out of him and she didn't want to end up with an exhausted companion.

Even the more relaxed pace was a bit much for Varden. Every chance he got he rested his feet. However, he was given a respite when Zenaria brought down one of the giant spiral-horned deer. She took the time to fashion herself a new set of clothing to replace the tattered garments that had fallen victim to the thorns. It took her an entire day and gave Varden a chance to rest his feet.

She didn't do the job she would like to have done. It always seemed that when she was fashioning clothing out of animal hide there was never enough time to cure it properly, but she scraped the hide clean with her knife and wore it inside out, promising to work on it a bit each night until she had it the way she wanted it.

The rest seemed to help Varden and he kept up without complaining for the next two days. Zenaria cut the pace down a little, taking time to hunt along the way. She noted that she was not the only predator. In addition to the heavyset dogs there were prides of lions and several other members of the cat family, one of which she recognized as a form of leopard. She kept clear of the cats knowing how territorial they could be. As before game was plentiful, but she was becoming concerned about the lack of fruit and vegetables. She recognized no edible plants although she was certain she must be walking past dozens. However, this was not the time to experiment. Given time she hoped that she might find a settlement; one that she hoped would be friendly. However, she had to find the settlement first, and so she and Varden kept trekking toward the cone-shaped mountain.

The mountain now loomed very large. Zenaria realized that she had vastly underestimated its size. It was at least as tall as the great ranges that flanked her homeland. The once flat land now sloped noticeably as they began to climb toward it. Other parts of the landscape changed as well. Water was no longer a problem as numerous streams flowed out from the mountain and headed out across the plain. For the first time since being dropped in this strange land Zenaria and Varden were able to bathe.

They chose a place where a dip in the land had created conditions where a rapidly flowing stream pitched over a hard rock ledge carving a deep basin that overflowed and splashed away into the distance. It was only midday, but the heat was intense and neither Varden nor Zenaria could resist the water.

"We'll camp here," Zenaria proclaimed. "We have water, plentiful game, and I may be able to find some plants that look promising."

Varden agreed. He was already stripping off his clothing. Zenaria looked appraisingly at his tall, well-muscled body. An hour in the water and then she and Varden could lie on the rocks and dry off. And then perhaps …. She licked her lips. She and Varden had not made love since her encounter with the rhino. Now she felt fully healed and it was time to make up for lost opportunities.

She smiled as she removed her clothing and followed Varden into the pool. To her pleasant surprise the water was not as cold as she had expected. She was used to the frigid waters of her northern home and this was pure luxury. She swam for a bit enjoying the silky smooth feel of the cool water on her skin and then ducked her head and swam underwater until she reached Varden. Surfacing, she placed her hand on his head and ducked him under.

He fought back to the surface and returned the favour holding his hand on her head until she was almost level with his knees. She could not resist grabbing hold of a convenient appendage. She surfaced laughing. "Now I have you right where I want you."

"Be careful with that, princess. You wouldn't want to break it."

Zenaria could feel what she had hold of rapidly getting harder and was having second thoughts abut a long swim. There was another form of exercise she suddenly found much more inviting. Releasing Varden she swam slowly toward the shore the knight following.

It only took a heartbeat to realize that something was wrong. With a rising sense of alarm she looked about for their clothing and weapons and saw nothing. Then from behind a screen of trees six men stepped forward, all of them armed and three of them holding crossbows. They were almost immediately backed up by more than a dozen others who ranged themselves in a semicircle behind the first six. Zenaria noted that three of them were armed with bows as well.

She and Varden were trapped. Even though the knight was still in the pool there was no place for him to go and he would have been an easy target for any archers stationed on the bank. She stood naked in front of a score of armed men and was helpless to do anything about it. But surrender was not on her mind. She had been enslaved once before and was not about to let it happen again. She would let them kill her first.

Varden stepped out of the water behind her. Moving beside her he placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Zenaria…"

"No," she said quietly. "I will not let them take me."

One of the men stepped forward. He was a little taller than most of his men and like all of them heavily bearded. He grinned through his dark hair. "Your man is right. Attempt to fight or escape and we will put more quills in you than a porcupine."

Zenaria replied before she realized that she had no trouble understanding everything the man had said. Apparently the spell of tongues that the evil magician, Junal had placed on her and Varden was still working. Either that or by some incredible twist of fate the people of this strange land spoke the same language she did, and that did not seem likely.

"You are slavers," Zenaria said. "I am useless to you maimed or dead. I will not surrender."

Varden dropped his hand. "I too will fight. You will have to kill us both."

"Have it your way," the man said. He stepped back and motioned to his men.

Two men who had been standing behind the others emerged from each end of the line of slavers. They moved with practiced ease as they hurled their weighted nets. Too late Zenaria and Varden saw the attack coming. They tried to duck under them, but the nets were thrown expertly and the entangling folds engulfed them before they could move.

Snared in the folds of the net Zenaria and Varden fought wildly to throw the nets off, but the slavers quickly pounced on them, knocking them off their feet and then pinning them to the ground. The trapped warriors struggled frantically, trying to punch and kick their captors away, but they were easily held down while still more men swarmed forward carrying ropes.

The man who had ordered the attack stood over them while his comrades reached through the netting and looped ropes about their wrists and ankles. Zenaria and Varden struggled; resisting with all of their considerable strength, but their efforts were futile against the strength of the several men who pinned their arms and legs while they were bound.

Breathing heavily both captives were dragged to their feet as the nets were removed. Their wrists had been bound in front of them and a short length of rope connected their ankles. Running or kicking was impossible and although Zenaria and Varden could move their arms they were held by a man on either side of them, rendering them helpless.

The slaver who had spoken to them before surveyed them but made no attempt to touch either of them. Both Zenaria and Varden were taller than him by at least a head and in spite of the fact that they were completely helpless he still seemed a little afraid of them.

Zenaria also had a chance to study the slavers. They were all similar in appearance. Most were swarthy with dark hair and beards that reached down to their chests although one or two had lighter hair and one was even redheaded. They all wore sturdy leather boots, into which were tucked into trousers of blue, red, yellow, and orange. The shirts they wore rivalled the trousers for colour and they wore numerous rings on their fingers and in their ears as well as bead necklaces.

Their colourful mode of dress was only matched by their menacing appearance. They were all heavily armed carrying everything from the usual swords and knives, to axes and spiked clubs, along with a few bows and crossbows. Most wore some sort of light armour as well, in addition to leather helmets.

Zenaria glared unflinchingly at the slaver leader as he examined her. She had experienced such degradation before when she had been taken prisoner by the Sandakar, but found it no less easy now as the slaver leader ran his eyes over her body. She had to force herself not to struggle as he slowly circled her. That resolution lasted, however, only as long as he did not touch her. As the slaver ran his fingers down her back she lurched forward forcing the men holding her to pull back, and then she went with them, slamming the back of her head into the nose of the man fondling her. There was a very satisfying crunch followed by a yelp of pain.

"You bitch!" came a cry from behind her.

There was a chorus of laughter from the other slavers, including the men holding Zenaria. "She got you good, Queron. Looks like she doesn't like your touch."

Queron moved back into view. He was holding his nose as blood streamed between his fingers. "Voln take you," he cursed. He waved his arm toward her. "Jag, Krek; help Plon and Yerbow string her up. She's going to be taught some manners."

The comment resulted in Varden trying to break free, but one of the slavers drove the haft of his axe heavily into the knight's belly, taking most of the fight out of him and leaving him slumped in the arms of his captors. "Him too," Queron ordered. "He can watch."

Zenaria struggled to pull free as she and Varden were dragged up the slope of the pool to a tall tree that stood on its edge. From the way that they were tied she suspected that the slavers had intended to do this to them anyway, but she wasn't about to go quietly to her fate. But step by step she was dragged closer until they had her under the branches.

A rope was tossed over an overhanging branch and attached to the ropes binding her wrists. In quick order her arms were pulled over her head until she was standing on her toes. Varden was strung up in an identical manner from a tree just short distance away, his body positioned so that they could se one another.

Queron moved forward a short whip in his hand. A trickle of blood still ran from his nose and the look on his face was far from pleasant. "I should skin you alive you barbarian bitch, but you might be worth more to me in one piece. Let's find out."

He tucked the whip into his belt and moved so close to her that Zenaria could smell his sweat and determine the contents of his last meal, but there was nothing she could do to avoid him. He started by running his hands over the muscles of her arms. Across from her Varden bellowed with rage, but Queron paid him not the least notice, keeping up a running commentary as he touched her.

"Muscled like an Urulanan warrior. I didn't think any other races came in their shape and size." He circled her, running a hand over the powerful muscles of her shoulders and back and then moving to her hips and buttocks. She trembled like a horse as he caressed the curve of her buttocks, an action that could not go unnoticed.

"Do you like that, barbarian? Perhaps it can be an everyday part of our relationship."

"You will die for this," Zenaria said, between clenched teeth. The casual examination of her body was acutely degrading. She had endured such an inspection before and all of the shame and helplessness came back with a rush. She couldn't look at Varden and tried to shut out the sound of his rage as Queron's exploration of her body became more and more intimate.

She quivered with anger as he squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples. "Tits like a goddess," Queron observed. "But the real money is down here."

"You are filth," Zenaria gasped, almost jumping as he cupped her mound of Venus. The sweat of fear was dripping off her body and she could not control her breathing.

Queron leered at her, sensing her fear and humiliation. His fingers flexed and he grinned as Zenaria jumped. "That is where the money is," the slaver jeered, "but I wish I had found different. Who would have thought such a magnificent piece of flesh would still be a virgin? What's the matter with your friend? Does he drift the wrong way?"

Zenaria almost wanted to defend Varden's manhood by shouting revealing the truth, but she knew that Queron's mistaken conclusion was all that was keeping her from being subjected to a brutal rape that would probably not stop until every one of the slavers had been satisfied. It was something she did not have the courage to face, no matter how much the slaver leader angered her. So she merely glowered at him and held her piece while he continued his mortifying examination of her body.

By the time she was finished she was flushed with shame. Her arms and shoulders ached from her suspended bondage and her body itched from the bites of the small biting flies that swarmed around her drinking her sweat. But Queron was far from through with her.

"I'd like to know where you got this," Queron said as he motioned to his men and several of them stepped forward. They placed a bundle on the ground that Queron quickly opened, revealing the weapons, armour, and gifts that Zenaria and Varden had thought they had hidden.

Zenaria cursed herself for a fool. The fact that Queron had the treasures they had stashed for safekeeping meant that he had been watching them for some time. She had been so intent on taking in the sights of this new land and watching out for possible dangers that she had overlooked the most dangerous animal of all. Now she and Varden were prisoners of men who would not hesitate to subject either of them to the most brutal and degrading of ordeals.

"Now," he continued. "I would like to know where you got these treasures and why you decided to hide them."

Zenaria tried to explain. But her story of a powerful wizard who had transported them from his country to the middle of nowhere did not go down well.

"Do you take me for a fool?" the slaver asked. "Your story makes no sense." He shook his whip at Varden. "Tell me what I want to know or I will flay the skin from your companion's hide."

"I cannot tell you anything more than the truth," Zenaria said. "Torture will not make me change my story as there is no other explanation."

At that point one of the slavers stepped forward. "I told you it was sorcery. I say we enjoy the woman, geld the man and have done with them."

A number of the other slavers seemed to agree. Although Queron seemed to be the leader it was apparent that he did not rule without the consent of his men. But he was not about to have his most valuable acquisition devalued.

"Intact she's worth a fortune. Deflowered she's just another barbarian slave, fit for nothing more than the arena. I'll leave her and the man in the sun for a bit. Perhaps they'll change their tunes when they've had a bit more time to think about it."

She had been spared rape, and Gron's timely intervention had prevented Queron from flogging Varden, but by evening she beginning to wonder if their current ordeal was not every bit as bad. Her shoulders and arms which had merely ached before now burned in fiery torment. The insect bites which had only been a minor irritation now burned as if a thousand red hot needles had been pushed into her skin. She was desperate for water, her lips so chaffed from licking them that they bled, and she was so dehydrated that she could barely stand, her weight resting on the ropes that bound her wrists as her legs refused to support her.

Varden was no better. In spite of his tremendous strength she could see that he too had almost collapsed, his fingers gripping the ropes in a desperate attempt to hold himself erect. But she could not change her story. Nothing she could tell Queron would have made the least sense, and finally he got tired of waiting for her to tell him what he wanted to here.

"Cut them down," he ordered. "We'll get it out of them sooner or later. In the meantime we've got other game to hunt."

His apparent change in attitude was not born out of impatience or any desire to spare his victims; it occurred because of a report brought back by one of the scouts. "Urulana," the man called Daget said. "About fifteen; half of them women. "They're tracking the wildebeest. If we play it right we can lure them here and spring a trap on them."

Zenaria and Varden were allowed to lie where they fell while Queron and his men planned their attack. It was apparent that they had carried out such operations many times before and the fact that they outnumbered the opposition two to one was strongly in their favour. "We'll lure them here," Queron said. "If we position the nets just right they should find themselves in a trap that they can't escape."

The planning went on for quite some time, eventually ending after sundown. Zenaria and Varden were dragged into the centre of the campground. For the first time since they had been captured they were given water but in spite of their rather sorry condition their captors took no chances. A crude framework was fashioned from two thick poles, which were placed parallel to their shoulders on either side of their necks and then tied together with rawhide. The poles constricted Zenaria's and Varden's breathing, but it was made even more uncomfortable by stretching their arms to either side and lashing them to the poles at the wrists and elbows. It was a humiliating and painful position that left both captives struggling to breathe. Guarded by two of the slavers, both captives were forced to make themselves as comfortable as they could as the camp settled down for the night.

Zenaria and Varden eventually fell into an exhausted sleep. Being forced to lie down with their arms spread wide made it impossible to find any position that was comfortable and made it almost impossible to get a proper sleep. They awoke with the birds and lay there until the rest of the camp stirred. Then they were given water and forced to their feet. They were led to the middle of the camp and placed back to back and then their outstretched arms were tied together and they were tied to a stake set in the middle of the camp.

It dawned on Zenaria as the slavers proceeded with their preparation that she and Varden were part of the trap. They were set up so that anyone entering the campground would see them first. Meanwhile the slavers went to setting up the rest of their trap. They cut down saplings and erected barriers of stakes along one side of the camp. When they were finished the stakes and the deep pool on the other side formed a narrow channel the far end of which was hung with the nets the slavers had used on her and Varden. Zenaria guessed was that the trick was to somehow lure the Urulana, into the area and then close in on them from behind.

Their preparations made, most of the slavers slipped off into the surrounding trees leaving Zenaria and Varden almost alone. Zenaria wondered about the Urulana. Who were these people the slavers wanted to trap? She had heard them referred to occasionally by Queron and others and always as if they were people to be feared. With no way of escaping she simply waited to see what was going to happen.

It was an exhausting wait. She and Varden were almost done in. They had not eaten for more than a day and had been given only a couple of mouthfuls of water and the ordeal of being hung up like dead deer had taken much out of them. The say seemed to pass with incredible slowness and then suddenly there was a shout from somewhere out on the plain. The shout was followed by what sounded like war cries. The latter sound moved progressively closer and then two of the slavers burst into sight. They hesitated for a second, looking back toward the sounds of their pursuers and then ran straight across the clearing. A few seconds later they were followed by an amazing group of warriors.

Their skins were as brown as ripe chestnuts and their long dark hair stretched to the middle of their backs. Each was as tall as Zenaria; in fact two or three of them were even taller. They were scantily clad, wearing little more than coverings for their loins. Even their feet were bare. This was made up for in part by the gold armbands and bracelets they wore and the strings of bead necklaces draped about their necks. They slowed and then stopped as they entered the clearing, looking suspiciously around and then focussing their attention on Zenaria and Varden.

Zenaria wanted to scream out a warning, but could only manage a faint croak. She could hear Varden also trying to speak, but he could do no more than she could, and then the trap closed. From behind the Urulanans came the slavers. They were armed with a solid wall of long spears cut from tall saplings. The brown-skinned warriors who were armed only with long spears and knives, backed away, stabbing overhand at their attackers.

It was a bit one-sided and got even more so as other slavers attacked from behind the loose palisade of stakes they had driven into the ground. As in the case of their attack on Zenaria and Varden they did not attempt to kill but to capture. Using long poles to which were attached ropes, they snagged the trapped warriors, drawing them within range and then used clubs to knock them senseless. Within short order five warriors were down and several more bleeding from minor wounds.

The remaining ten edged away from the palisade realizing it was their greatest danger. It broke their front allowing the slavers with the sharpened poles to surge forward, driving the dark-skinned warriors in front of them.

One warrior refused to retreat. She was powerfully built and handled her spear with such skill that for a few seconds she brought the slavers' advance to a halt. Leaping daringly forward she stabbed at the men hold the long poles, at the same time deflecting any of the sharp points that came her way. But it was one against a dozen and she had to retreat as more slavers came out from behind the stakes armed with nets similar to those that had brought down Zenaria and Varden.

The daring of the tall woman rallied her companions and they came back in a wave, driven by desperation as much as inspiration. For a few heartbeats they drove back the slavers, even drawing blood in spite of the forest of spears that they faced. But the nets flew through the air snaring three of them and throwing the others into disarray. More of the snares struck out catching two more and dragging them toward the slavers. With a roar of rage the tall woman attacked, her hair streaming out behind her as she charged. She made no attempt to protect herself but threw herself at the slavers stabbing again and again as she closed with them.

For a few steps the slavers were again driven back several bleeding from stab wounds. One fell and with a quick movement of her spear the woman ran him through before he could escape. But it was her last act of defiance. A well aimed club struck her on the temple momentarily stunning her and she was immediately swarmed. With the loss of their leader there was little resistance and the rest of the warriors were quickly overcome. Within short order they joined Zenaria and Varden in bondage.

"Not a bad haul," Queron said, "even if we did lose Lahg and Rendel. All the greater share for the rest of us." He was bleeding from a cut on his arm, but was otherwise unhurt. Zenaria noticed a number of the slavers had minor wounds, but nothing too debilitating. It had been a thoroughly one-sided victory and they now had fifteen captives to show for their efforts.

Queron bound his arm and began his examination of his prisoners. "A fine lot," he said. "Fine physical specimens. The men should fetch a half talent each and the women…"

He took his usual time with the women most of whom appeared terrified. Only the tall warrior who had led the resistance showed any defiance. As Queron moved in front of her she spat in his face. He calmly wiped away the spittle and shoved his hand between her legs. "The only virgin in the bunch," he commented. "That is too bad. I will have to find another way of teaching you a lesson."

The woman glared at him. "Do what you want, hyena. I am a princess of the Urulana. I don't fear you."

"No," Queron said, "but if you defy me this is what is going to happen to your friends."

He singled out one of the women. "This one." He turned back to the Urulanan princess. "A different one each night that you defy me."

"No," the princess protested. "Not her. Take me instead."

"You're worth more intact, princess. But your companions are already used goods. We have a long trek to get to the slave markets and you are gong to give me full cooperation. And this is what is going to happen if I don't get it."

The next few hours were filled with horror as the captives watched the slavers rape the screaming Urulanan warrior. At first she tried to be brave and made not the slightest sound, but the slavers were anything but gentle and eventually she made the noises Queron and his men wanted. They she cried out begging them to stop, eventually falling silent near the end as sheer exhaustion overtook her. It was the most horrific scene Zenaria had ever witnessed and she vowed brutal vengeance on the men who dared commit such an atrocity. But for now, she was helpless and rendered compliant by Queron's threat. He would hold the other female captives hostage for her and the Urulanan princess's good behaviour. Even if she was not on the verge of collapse she dared not offer any resistance if it meant that the other helpless women would suffer.

The night of horror passed. Somehow Zenaria managed to sleep and the next morning she awoke, tired, hungry, and so thirsty she would have drunk her own urine. The young Urulana who had been raped was freed and ordered to tend to the other captives. Although the girl could barely walk, she moved from one captive to the other bringing them food and water. For a short time one of Zenaria's arms was freed so that she could drink and eat. Her legs were also untied and she was walked under guard to the edge of the camp where she could perform her bodily functions.

She was returned to the camp and lined up with the other captives. They formed a long column, each one linked by a rope to the one in front. Their arms tied straight out from their shoulders, they were forced to march, the slavers flanking them carrying lengths of rope that they used to hurry anyone who lagged.

Not that anyone deliberately held up the march. Anyone who slowed down was jerked painfully forward by the person in front of them. The person in front suffered as well and the slavers were quick to use the rope bringing it down hard across their shoulders.

Zenaria received a number of these blows, not because she was too slow, but because the slavers chose to strike her and anyone else they chose out of pure amusement. Varden too was a special target, as was the Urulanan princess. The indiscriminate beating continued until Queron ordered it to stop out of fear that the selling price of their captives might be reduced if they were marked up.

Even without the beatings, the march was a brutal ordeal. Although she was now given enough water the painful position of her arms made movement difficult and she had to force herself forward to maintain the pace the slavers demanded. The sun beat down on her, blistering her fair skin in spite of the tan she had acquired and with each rest it was harder and harder to force herself to her feet. Fortunately, the slavers rested often, stopping three times before noon to make sure their captives had enough water to maintain the pace. There was a longer stop at noon so that a brief meal could be eaten. In spite of Queron's brutality he was no fool. He wanted to insure that every one of his valuable captives made it to market.

That night they camped before nightfall and set up the same thorn-protected camp that Zenaria had used when she and Varden had camped. They were given water and food and for the first time in a day were allowed to sleep without being tied to the cruel frames. But it didn't matter. Queron was a good judge of his captives. There was not a one; including Zenaria who had the energy to do anything more than flop on the ground and sink into an exhausted sleep. And Queron kept them that way, marching them just hard enough for the next few days that they could do little more than collapse at the end of each exhausting day.

For the proud Snow Leopard warrior Queron's treatment amounted to the cruellest of humiliations. He had rendered her helpless; too beaten to do anything more than place one foot in front of the other on what seemed a never-ending march. But Zenaria knew that sooner or later it would end; and when it did she would find herself a captive in a situation from which she might not be able to escape. Somehow, before they reach their destination she had to find a way to get away. But as each day flowed painfully into the next and she became ever more exhausted and dispirited it seemed that this time she might be doomed.

Chapter 4: Cats

Seven cycles of the sun found Zenaria and her fellow slaves exhausted almost beyond endurance. Bitten by flies, exposed to the unrelenting sun and enervating wind, and forced to march tied to the cruel horizontal yoke, every step became pure torture. Added to that the repeated blows of the slavers' rope ends; and the occasional encounter with poisonous snakes, the march became a nightmare. Even at night they were yoked and exposed to attacks by scorpions and monstrous centipedes. All that kept them going were the frequent rest and water stops. Queron and his brutal companions seemed to have a fine sense of just how hard they could drive their captives without causing total collapse.

In spite of her exhaustion Zenaria could not help noticing that the slavers constantly checked behind them as if they were being followed.

"The Urulana," Zenaria thought. "Of course. Queron has the Urulana princess. It is only natural they would pursue."

There was not much she could do with the knowledge. The painful position of her arms left her helpless to do anything more than place one foot in front of the other and then collapse whenever a rest was offered.

Communication between the prisoners was limited. The slavers did not allow conversation, and they were usually too tired to do more than flop down each time they were given a chance to rest. Zenaria was, however, able to study her fellow captives; especially Urulanan princess who she learned was called Sulia. Although she was equally helpless it was clear that she tried to be an example to the other slaves, holding her head high and attempting to stare down any of the slavers who met her eye. That small act of defiance was usually followed by a beating, usually delivered by the slavers' fists as they were reluctant to mar her splendid body in any way. "You don't damage the goods," as Queron put it.

Zenaria would have been equally defiant, but Queron soon figured out a way to force her cooperation. Instead of beating her he beat Varden, forcing her to lower her eyes in order to keep her lover from being punished on her account. She spent most of the day looking at the feet of the slave in front of her; fearful that her defiant gaze might bring pain to Varden. Only at night were she and Varden able to hold a whispered conversation and by then they were usually so fatigued that they quickly fell asleep.

On the night of the seventh day, however, Zenaria was wide awake, listening in fearful fascination to the campfire conversation of the slavers. After their brutal rape of the Urulana girl the slavers had tempered their violence, but only because they wanted to keep their captives in condition to continue the gruelling journey. But the farther away they got from the white mountain the more the slavers looked at the other Urulanan women.

"I think it's about time we got them accustomed to their future," Gron said. "We've shaken off any pursuit. The Urulana don't even know which way we've gone. We should enjoy the fruits of our labours. Our customers will thank us for it. The Urulanan bitches will be more cooperative."

"Not yet," Queron argued. "We want the slaves to keep up. It's taken the one we fucked until now to get her legs back. We don't want to slow down. Wait a few more days."

Gron grabbed his crotch. "I say we're far enough away. Giving a couple of them some of this won't hurt as long as we share it between the other five. You can keep your two virgins."

Zenaria listened in horror as the slavers casually discussed raping the Urulana prisoners. It was as if they were talking about what they intended to cook for supper. It sent chills down her spine to realize that they could have been talking about her if Varden had not restored her virginity. She was almost sick with anger as the argument continued.

"Cowards!" she thought. "They deserve to die, and I can do nothing to help."

"Let's vote on it," Daget said. "It's the way we've always done things."

There was a general chorus of agreement. It was obvious that even before the vote what the answer would be. A few feet away Varden growled in anger, but like Zenaria he was helpless to do more that express his frustration.

Zenaria heard Queron vote no, then the vote went through the slavers. One by one they voiced their agreement with Gron, their voices interrupted only by the usual animal screams that filled the night. Especially one animal scream that sent shivers of recognition down Zenaria's spine.

Without thinking she reached out with the animal sense she had always had; and found something she recognized. It was another mind; but one so unlike hers that the images she encountered were almost incoherent. They were violent, sensual images, filled with blood, smells, and primal urges. They were so intense that she almost shut them out of her mind. But they were familiar images as well; images she had shared many times with the giant snow leopard she called Jaree. She forced hr mind to relax; to become part of the violent sensual world of the great hunting cat.

"Sister," she sent, "I need you." Images flooded her mind again; savage, bloody, almost erotically cruel images that she had to fight through. "Sister," she sent again. "Help me. Help your sister." She sent images of fire, ropes, and pain. Of vicious brutes threatening her cubs; of the slavers and their dark slavering, brutal faces.

She got a single, almost painfully sharp reply: I come."

The reply was in fact nothing that could be determined as speech the way humans thought of it, but as series of images that somehow conveyed consent and friendship; or at least as much friendship as a cat could muster. Zenaria waited every muscled tense. She had done all she could now all she could do was let events transpire.

The voting was over. As Zenaria had already foreseen the slavers had chosen to enjoy their female captives immediately. Like vultures on dead meat, they descended on their helpless female victims.

"No," Sulia protested, as she watched her female companions dragged toward the light of the fire. Each of the women struggled pitifully, terribly aware of what was going to happen to them, but like true warriors they battled in silence while their princess raged.

"Cowards," Sulia screamed. "Hyenas, jackals. Take me instead."

Queron walked over and stood in front of her. In spite of his opposition to the rape, he had been quite content to take part in the lottery that followed, in which each man took straws to determine when it would be his turn. He looked down at the helpless Urulanan princess and licked his lips. Then he bent and straddled her nude body, pressing her into he ground and eliciting a grunt as his weight pushed the air from her lungs.

"Don't ever think you might not join them, princess. Valuable as you are I'm almost tempted to take you as my share instead of selling you for gold." He motioned toward Zenaria. "I've already got one prize virgin. It might be fun to listen to you scream on your first night." He fondled her breasts as he spoke, squeezing and kneading the firm flesh, and ended by twisting her nipples so hard that Sulia winced. "Now shut your mouth or you're like to find something in it you hadn't counted on." He finished with an obscene gesture and went back to where his men were readying their night's entertainment.

One of the young women had already been untied from the yoke that restrained her. Four slavers held each of her arms and legs while another performed a lewd and suggestive dance in front of her, playing with his swelling phallus and taunting her as she was held for his pleasure. She fought bravely, her firm young breasts quivering and her body arching as she attempted to hold off the inevitable; but other than her heavy breathing she made not a sound.

Unable to turn away from the sickening scene, Zenaria watched, her pulse racing as the slaver moved between the girl's legs. "By the Moon, Sun and the Snow Leopard, please come," she murmured.

A blood-freezing scream answered her cry and a mottled gold and black shape hurdled the thorn boma and plunged into the camp. It tore into the surprised and terrified slavers almost before they knew it was there.

In her sending Zenaria had tried to differentiate between the slavers and their captives, but she knew that the terrible beast that was now raging through the camp would not necessarily be able to tell the difference between friend and foe, especially in its blood rage. But alone among the captives, she had been hoping for the attack and she moved as soon as the leopard pounced.

While the screams of the slavers sounded in her ears, she rolled to her feet and headed toward the closest fire. There were two of them, one at each end of the camp to deter animals. Reaching it she fell on her back so that the right arm of the yoke was in the flames. She stifled a cry as the fire seared her flesh, forcing herself to endure the pain while the ropes holding her wrist and elbow burned. In a few seconds the ropes gave and she wrenched herself away. Using her free arm she quickly untied the ropes holding her other arm and those holding the yoke around her neck and then got to her feet.

After so many days with the yoke tied to her neck and arms she swayed unsteadily, but she fought off the dizziness. In the middle of the camp, the leopard was creating havoc, but that might not last long. Even a beast as powerful as a leopard could not hope to kill all of the slavers before they killed her. She needed to free the other prisoners.

Snatching up a knife one of the slavers had dropped she ran to Varden and cut him loose then she moved to the Urulanan prisoners, freeing one of the men and handing him the knife. Without waiting to see what he would do with it, but hoping he had the good sense to free the others, she ran to join Varden who was already moving toward the slavers.

Weapons were not hard to find. The slavers near the campfire had abandoned theirs when the leopard attacked and Zenaria picked up a sword and a knife. By now the slavers had formed a defence against the raging leopard, forming a wall bristling with knifes and swords. On the edge of that wall the leopard screamed and struck at them with her claws trying to find a way past their defence. Without hesitation Zenaria and Varden joined the fray.

Her first blow took off the hand of the slaver nearest her and her backhand ripped out the throat of a second. She used the knife to block a blow from another of the slavers and then stabbed her blade into his belly. Beside her Varden was swinging his sword two-handed, each blow taking off a limb or cleaving a skull. He seemed oblivious to the return blows aimed at him.

Their frenzied attack broke the ranks of the slavers and the leopard charged into the gap, taking down two men, ripping and tearing at them with its teeth and claws. Trapped between Zenaria, Varden, and the leopard and the boma they had erected, many of the slavers fought desperately, but a few panicked, attempting to break through their own thorn barrier. The result was predictable with the slavers being treated to a dose of what had happened to Zenaria. They were ripped to shreds by their own defence.

And then several of the Urulana arrived, led by Sulia. The last of the slavers broke, attempting to flee but unable to get past the thorn barrier. At that point the remainder threw down their weapons and begged for mercy.

They were ignored, the now freed captives showing little mercy. One after the other they were cut down until only Queron, Daget, and Gron remained, somehow having managed to somehow get themselves as far away from the actual fighting as they could. At this point Sulia's anger seemed to die. "Not these three," she shouted. "I have something special for them."

Zenaria held her blade as did Varden and the others. Somehow Zenaria also managed to calm the leopard who came to her side like a giant house cat, a purr rumbling in its throat in spite of the numerous wounds that marred its beautiful markings.

Sulia and the Urulana stared at her in wonder. "You command the beasts," the tall princess said, her voice filled with awe.

Zenaria, however, was weaving, her efforts having drained her of her reserves of strength. Most of the Urulana were in a similar state, and Zenaria motioned to the three slavers and the others caught her meaning. Quickly they were trussed up, and Zenaria felt safe in putting down her sword. But she wasn't about to completely relax. "We must watch them," she advised.

"I will arrange a guard," Sulia said. She spoke quickly to the other Urulana who quickly worked out a roster for watching the prisoners. All of them were exhausted so each was given only a short watch. That done they attended to preparing as meal. The slavers had not exactly starved their captives, but they had kept them on short rations to insure their cooperation. Now they raided the slavers' stores and made up for a week of fasting.

They ate quickly, too fatigued to engage in much conversation and retired to their sleeping places, too tired to bother with anything more than the ground the slavers had forced them to sleep on.

Zenaria awoke early. She had fed the leopard as a reward for her service, but sometime during the night the animal had returned to the wild, leaving no trace other than the ravaged corpses of its victims. Several of the Urulana were awake as well, having been arouse by the noise of the scavengers as they circled the camp trying to find a way through the boma in search of a meal.

"We can't stay here," Varden said. "Let us leave this place and I will attend to thine injuries."

Zenaria had to agree. Already the bodies were beginning to decompose and she wanted to be away from the sounds of the circling scavengers. Although still suffering from their ordeal they prepared to leave the camp. First, however, there was the little matter of the slavers to deal with.

"They are rapists," Zenaria said. "They should be impaled."

Having witnessed their brutal treatment of the Urulana women, Varden did not disagree. But Sulia had an even better idea. She took out her knife and called to her warriors. "Help me bind them. We will leave them alive, but they will wish we had not."

The punishment was carried out with savage efficiency. The three slavers were tied to three sides of a tree, their arms over their heads. Then the punishment began. The slavers first begged for mercy and then begged for death. Sulia's blade worked quickly, shedding very little blood, but it was gruesome work and even Zenaria had to look away when the Urulanan princess made her final cuts. The shrieks as the bloody stumps of their manhoods were cauterized were truly horrifying, but no more than they deserved. Stony-faced she and Varden followed the others through the gap in the boma and left the hyenas to feed. The screams of the slavers faded in the distance as they moved farther and farther away, finally stopping altogether. Zenaria wondered if it was because they were too far away or whether the hyenas had finally done their work.

They did not go far. Even in this remote part of their territory the Urulana had no trouble finding water and they settled in a cluster of rocks where they could easily defend their camp. They had hunted along the way, bringing down two of the cow-like herd animals, which Zenaria learned were called gnus. She learned the names of the other beasts as well, filling in a proper vocabulary for the huge variety of animals of the plain.

In the new camp Varden worked his healing magic. He wanted to deal with Zenaria first, but she insisted that he deal with the girl who had been raped and the other Urulana first. While the Urulana looked on in amazement he healed the girl, her bruises and minor cuts sustained in battle disappearing. Zenaria knew that she was going to get a shock as was every other woman Varden healed when they found out they were once again virgins. She wondered what kind of reaction there would be when they discovered what he had done.

Eventually it was Zenaria's turn. Her main injuries were the burns she had sustained in freeing herself. The few cuts she had received in the fighting were minor and would heal of themselves, leaving honourable scars, but she knew that Varden's healing powers were indiscriminate and all injuries would be healed. However, she was not about to deny herself the opportunity to receive a month's healing simply for a display of battle honours. She suspected that she would need all of her skills and strength and so she let Varden heal her for the second time in just days.

The healing left Varden exhausted and an object of awe to the Urulana. "Surely he is a great shaman as well as a warrior," Sulia observed. "The spirits were with us when we were brought together."

Varden blushed. In spite of his rather conservative attitudes, Varden was not one to boast of his abilities and he was modest to a fault, attributing his abilities to his faith in his rather staid deity. She and the knight had not gotten along at all well when they first met, even if Varden had saved her life twice in just a few days. He seemed terribly good at that and was now up to three rescues, much to Zenaria's exasperation. However, she allowed him his moment of glory, even going so far as to add her praises to Sulia's.

"He is blessed in many areas," Zenaria smiled. "Sadly his recent labours have probably left him too tired to display his other talents."

Varden's colour deepened and Sulia regarded Zenaria strangely. "Are you not sister and brother?"

Now it was Zenaria's turn to blush. "It was a story we invented to deceive the slavers," she confessed. "Varden and I also have been thrown together by chance."

"We will discuss this further in my home. You must return to with us to the Mountain of Fire."

Zenaria was not certain what the Urulana princess meant, but she nodded her agreement. "We would be honoured, princess."

It was interesting how things worked out. She and Varden had been trying to reach the impressive mountain before being captured by the slavers, hoping that there might be a settlement there. Now it seemed that they were to be taken there as honoured guests. Sometimes things did seem to be ordained by the gods.

Chapter 5: Urtts

Seven days after their defeat of the slavers a leisurely march across the plains brought Zenaria and her new companions to the place where the slavers had captured them. It was an idyllic setting and by chance one that Sulia regarded as her favourite place in the great wilderness of the plains. They took their time, making up for the forced march the slavers had taken them on.

Zenaria was content with the slow pace. It gave her and Varden time to get to know Sulia and the other members of the Urulana, and she enjoyed learning the names of the various animals and plants that populated the plains. As she had surmised she and Varden had walked right past dozens of edible and medicinal plants and Sulia proved an apt teacher. Even Varden took an interest. In spite of his somewhat narrow religious views he was very interested in all aspects of healing and paid avid attention when Sulia described the various medicinal plants and their applications.

And then there was the hunt. The Urulana hunted with spears rather than bows; in fact none of them carried a bow and they found Zenaria's use of the weapon extremely interesting. They were even more impressed when she brought down a massive buffalo with just three well-placed arrows. The animal was extremely dangerous to hunt and the fact that she brought it down from a distance of over fifty yards drew admiring glances.

The huge animal provided them with enough meat to feed all of them for several days, and by degrees they eventually reached the beautiful pool and waterfall. Sulia announced that they would probably stay there for several days simply because of its natural beauty. With plenty of food and abundant water it was a natural resting spot welcomed by everyone. And it gave then all a chance to clean the grime from their bodies in the clear waters of the deep pool.

By this time Varden had overcome his unnatural aversion to nudity and joined in. For the first time since Zenaria had known the knight he seemed oblivious to the naked bodies around him, in spite of the fact that almost half of them were nubile females.

It was fortunate that his attitude had changed as he was now the clear object of desire of most of the young bare-breasted Urulana women. As Zenaria had cause to know, Varden's healing skills had the sometimes annoying side-effect of restoring virginity. There had been a little consternation among the women when they had made this discovery and several of them seemed determined to have Varden personally restore them to their original state.

Varden found all of this attention quite embarrassing. Zenaria found it amusing. Rather than igniting the fires of jealousy, it focused her attention in an entirely different direction. Toward that of the Urulana princess.

The attitude of the Urulana toward sex was surprisingly similar to that of most Erogenians, with one major exception. Since the leadership of the tribe passed through the female line Sulia was expected to maintain her virginity until her consort was chosen to insure that the line of succession remained unchallenged. However, it was not expected that the next in line to the throne satisfy herself with cold baths. She was allowed unlimited sexual release provided it was with members of the same sex.

For Zenaria it was a new experience. In spite of the fact that there were no restrictions on same sex relationships in her culture she had never taken a female lover; even though there had been a few moments when she had been strongly tempted. But Sulia was undeniably special. Taller than Zenaria by almost a hand, she moved with the grace of a gazelle, her long smooth muscles rippling under her dark brown skin. Her breasts were high and firm, barely swaying as she moved and topped with nipples the colour of obsidian. Her black hair was divided into three long braids that joined in the middle of her back before falling to just above the curve of her buttocks. It swayed most provocatively as she moved, drawing the eye to the erotic movement of her slender hips and narrow waist. Nude from the waist up her lower body was covered only by a thin skirt of leopard skin. Her feet were bare and her ankles decorated with several small gold chains. She wore similar ornamentation about her neck in addition to gold bands on each of her arms. A single gold band circled her brow indicating her status.

Her features were strong, with full lips, a wide nose, and high cheekbones; giving her a rather haughty appearance that Zenaria found intriguing. And when she looked at Zenaria the invitation was undeniable.

Zenaria, however, held back. She was not yet ready to commit to a new relationship until she understood the customs of the Urulana a bit better. She had no wish to find herself entangled in a liaison from which it might be difficult extricate herself. And then there was Varden. She and the knight had been lovers only a very brief time and she had no wish to strain their relationship. And so although she made no effort to distance herself from Sulia she did nothing to encourage her either.

The situation remained unchanged during their stay at the waterfall. She and Varden, however, stayed apart; partly due to the knight's reluctance to make love when surrounded by so many strangers and partly due to the fact that both Zenaria and Varden seemed to feel that their relationship was changing.

The knight's reluctance to perform in the presence of others was not shared by the Urulana. Eventually most of the Urulana women gave up on Varden, giving in to their normal instincts, which they had no trouble displaying in full sight of everyone else. To Varden it was a shocking display of immorality and made him even more reluctant to engage in such activity. Eventually only one of the Urulana maintained her interest in the knight. Her name was Kindra and coincidently she was the terrified victim the slavers had chosen to satisfy their lust. Perhaps because Varden had healed her of all evidence of the rape or for some other reason she remained determined to draw him into her bedroll. Eventually the Urulana men gave up on her and left her to her pursuit of the knight.

Three days after reaching the waterfall, they broke camp and headed toward the Mountain of Fire. The mountain now filled half the horizon and most of the walking was uphill. The vegetation began to change, becoming more lush and green and they began to encounter small streams that flowed out toward the plain. Here and there they came across deep canyons that had been carved out of the landscape. Zenaria wondered a bit about a few of these as they seemed much too large to have been created by the small streams currently wandering through them. However, none of the Urulana including Sulia could shed any light on the matter.

"They've always been that way," Sulia answered. "I have never thought about it. It is the way things have always been. The way Rahlu made them."

Rahlu was the name of the primary Urulanan god; one who not surprisingly, resided in the Mountain of Fire. After what Zenaria had seen she was not one to discount others' deities and so she merely accepted what Sulia had told her.

One question she had not asked was answered four days after they had left the waterfall. They had just made camp and were sitting around the campfire enjoying the smell of their latest hunting success; a large eland Zenaria's arrows had brought down. There was a sudden shift in the ground beneath them flowed by a low rumble from the direction of the Mountain of Fire.

Sulia got to her feet along with everyone else. Looking toward the Mountain she crossed her arms over her breasts, an action that Zenaria had come to recognize as paying tribute to her god. "Rahlu speaks," the dark-skinned princess said.

Zenaria looked toward the mountain, her eyes widening in surprise. The top of the mountain, stood stark against the purple of twilight, a strange orange glow emanating from its summit. Even as she watched the glow changed, erupting into a fiery splash against the sky. The display was followed by a rumble that was even louder this time.

Zenaria felt a chill run up her spine. She had never seen or ever expected to see such a sight. "What is it?" she asked even as an even larger explosion occurred, throwing glowing fragments high above the top of the mountain.

"Rahlu is angry," Sulia replied. "Probably because I failed in my leadership. He seeks atonement for my failure."

"I don't understand," Zenaria replied. "What failure?"

"I led my people into a trap a novice could have avoided. We were captured and humiliated and Kindra was raped. Rahlu is displeased and I must atone."

Zenaria understood. "It is like the cha," she said. "You must restore the balance."

"I do not understand this ‘cha,' Sulia replied. "But yes. I must restore the balance or Rahlu will be angry."

Zenaria did not ask Sulia how she was to restore the balance, but she kept it in mind as the great mountain continued to roar. The incredible display went on all night, increasing in intensity and making it impossible to sleep. Each eruption was followed by a thunderous roar and the shaking of the ground. Finally toward morning Sulia decided they might as well have an early breakfast and then break camp. With the ground continually shaking they made no attempt to cook anything, but ate cold meat left over from supper and tubers and greens they had gathered the day before. By the time they had finished eating it was light enough to set off.

They continued their upward journey ignoring the fact that each step took them closer to the roaring mountain, but Sulia mentioned that such activity from the Mountain of Fire was not unusual even though she had never seen it this intense. By mid-morning the mountain had added another element to its activity. It appeared that glowing liquid was escaping from its top and flowing down the side of the mountain.

Reaching one of the deep chasms that seemed to radiate from the mountain the party halted. At the bottom was the usual small stream. Sulia looked upstream, an expression of uncertainty on her regal features. "What is it?" Zenaria asked.

"I'm not sure," Sulia answered. "We must cross here or trek for four days to go around it, but I have a feeling that something is not quite right."

Taciturn as always, Zenaria waited for Sulia to continue. Finally the Urulana princess spoke. "I will go down alone and make sure that it is safe. Then the rest can follow."

Zenaria shook her head. "I am going as well. And do not try to stop me. No one faces danger for me; be it known or unknown."

Sulia frowned, but nodded. "We go then."

Wait, princess," Varden said, stepping forward. "You go nowhere without me."

"In all fairness, Sir Knight," Zenaria replied. "I have seen how you climb. It is better that you wait here and let those who are more nimble go first. And say nothing about letting a woman go first. Besides the danger Sulia senses may come from this direction and your fighting ability may be needed to safeguard us as we make the climb."

The last statement seemed to mollify the knight. He nodded and stepped back while Sulia and Zenaria prepared. Zenaria took her sword and knife, leaving behind her bow and quiver for the climb. It would have been a most difficult climb if the ground had kept shaking, but for the moment it seemed to have stopped. Even so the rock was sheer, dropping several dozen body lengths to the bottom of the canyon.

Each of the climbers was secured by a grass rope. Even so, Zenaria climbed carefully, wary of the fact that the ground might start shaking at any moment. She had no wish to endure the rope burns that would be inflicted if she lost her hold and had to be caught by the rope.

Side by side they descended into the canyon, wary of the danger that Sulia had sensed. They were halfway down when something strange occurred. The small stream below them suddenly began to swell, increasing in just a few heartbeats from a trickle to a full forced flow and then increased even more, growing rapidly to a raging torrent.

Perched high above the stream Zenaria watched, wondering if this was the danger the Urulana princess had sensed. By now the stream had risen almost two body lengths from its original level and was moving with such power that it was now impossible to cross. It seemed that the party would have to make the four day detour after all.

Zenaria began to climb back toward the rim when a low rumbling sound distracted her. Looking upstream she saw a sight that had her scrambling higher as quickly as she could safely move. Roaring down the canyon was a wall of water that filled it almost to the rim, and it was moving faster that a galloping horse.

Zenaria grabbed the rope just before the water caught her and clung desperately as the water pulled her away from the canyon wall and out into the raging torrent. She was vaguely aware of Sulia being swept out with her and then she was fighting for her life as the water attempted to rip her away from her lifeline.

As she gripped the rope, the powerful current pulled her straight out so that her body was almost parallel, her head facing into the current. As the water surged past and over her it tried to pull her under so that she was partially submerged and forced to hold her breath. Each time this happened she somehow managed to kick and pull her way back to the surface and catch her breath only to have the water pull her under again. Heavy objects, swept up by the current, smashed into her, almost breaking her grip, but she held on with all her strength, knowing that to lose her grip was almost certain death.

The raging water swirled her in circles, spinning her like a top as she gripped the rope and then something unbelievably heavy slammed into her. The blow knocked the breath from her body and tore away her grip on the rope, but it hardly mattered. An instant later the rope snapped, but not before wrenching her body violently as the rope around her waist cut into her and then she was ripped out into the current. Flailing desperately, her hands caught hold of the object that had slammed into her, the branches of a large tree. Wrapping her arms around a branch she clung with all of her remaining strength as the tree was hurled down the canyon, twisting and turning in the churning waters.

Zenaria fought for her life as the tree spun in the writhing currents, sometimes swirling her above the surface of the water and sometimes ducking her under. Each time she surfaced she gasped for air before being plunged beneath the surface. As she came up she tried to look for Sulia, but the Urulana princess was nowhere to be seen, leaving Zenaria with a hollow feeling in her stomach.

It seemed the wild river ride lasted forever, even though it could not have been more than a few hundred heartbeats. During one of her brief emergences from the wild water Zenaria caught sight of the canyon walls and realized the canyon was narrowing. The effect was to increase the velocity of the already rapidly moving torrent. And then Zenaria heard a sound that reverberated even above the sound of the already roaring stream. It was a familiar enough sound; that of water pouring over a ledge. Glancing ahead she saw that the river suddenly seemed to end, but helpless she could do nothing as she was swept toward the edge of the waterfall.

When the tree trunk suddenly jarred to a halt she almost lost her grip. But even though the water tore at her body she clung to the tree with the tenacity of a wolverine. The tree had wedged itself across the canyon, perched just on the edge of the falls as the water roared over the drop before disappearing in a cloud of spray.

As she hung on she caught sight of a slight movement. Just five yards away a dark brown arm clung to a slender branch. The rest of Sulia was hidden by the trunk of the tree, but it was apparent that she was barely hanging on. In spite of her weariness Zenaria moved without thinking, forcing herself to move against the flow of the water and scrambling along the horizontal trunk until the Urulana princess was within reach. Her hand reached out and clamped down on Sulia's wrist. Pulling with all of her remaining strength she managed to drag the princess toward her until Sulia could grab hold by herself. Only then did Zenaria pull herself into a safer position on top of the trunk.

Wet and exhausted, the two women sat side by side attempting to regain their strength for the coming test. They had somehow survived the flood, but not without some damage. The longer they sat the more Zenaria realized that her body was covered with bruises and not a few contusions. Sulia was in similar condition, although her darker complexion hid much of the bruising. The test in question was the escape from their precarious perch.

The tree that had swept them off the canyon wall had jammed itself just above the waterfall. It rocked unsteadily in the flow of water, threatening to break loose and follow the water over the falls. Almost certainly Zenaria and Sulia could not count on their luck to survive the plunge over the falls. Their gods had been with them so far, but they could not hope that is would continue forever. Their only escape was to climb the canyon walls and only one wall promised any chance of success.

Given a choice Zenaria would have chosen to go the other way and climb the cliff that would put them on the same side of the canyon as their companions, but that was not an option. The cliff on that side was sheer, and jutted out toward the top, making a climb almost impossible. The other side was also steep, but offered enough possible hand and footholds to make the climb possible.

The roar of the river made speech impossible, but Zenaria pointed to the cliff and Sulia nodded. Slowly they edged their way down the partially submerged trunk of the tree until they reached the cliff. As Sulia was ahead of her, Zenaria waited until she had started the climb before following.

The climb took much longer than it should have, but both Zenaria and Sulia were battered and exhausted. They had to stop several times and rest before continuing, and once Zenaria had to help Sulia when she slipped. But slowly they made their way to the top until finally Sulia pulled herself over the ledge. Zenaria followed just heartbeats later and flopped down beside her.

Zenaria was almost too exhausted to move, but she wanted to know how Sulia was, so she struggled into a sitting position. It was then that she saw the vegetation lining the top of the canyon shake and then part to reveal a creature that was more than vaguely familiar.

"Urtts!" She somehow made it to her feet just as a greenish yellow horde burst through the vegetation. Her sword was in her hand even as she gained her feet and although off balance the blade took off the head of the Urtt nearest her, but that was the only blow she got in before she was tackled by two other attackers.

The impetus of the Urtts almost knocked her back into the canyon, for an instant she teetered on the edge and then several more grabbed hold of her and dragged her away from the edge, at the same time trying to wrestle the sword from her grasp. She fought ferociously, somehow finding strength she didn't know she had, but her ordeal in the flood waters was against her. By sheer weight of numbers her attackers bore her down, wrestled her sword from her grasp and then forced her arms behind her back. She struggled even more fiercely as she felt ropes being looped around her wrists, but it was all in vain. She lay gasping like a fish out of water as her first her wrists and then her ankles were bound. A yard away she could hear Sulia cry out in frustration as she too was overwhelmed.

Still struggling feebly, Zenaria was hauled to her feet and supported by an Urtt on either side of her. She was dragged forward and held in front of a large Urtt wearing a gold chain about his neck and metal-studded leather cuffs on his wrists. A dagger was stuck into a leather sheath that hung from a chain-link belt around his waist and he held an iron mace in his right hand.

He looked like most other Urtts Zenaria had seen with two differences. First, he was much taller, coming close to her height; and second like the other Urtts around her his skin was not the dark green of the Urtts with which she was familiar, but a pea soup yellow-green. Other than that they had the blunt lizard-like features typical of any other Urtt she had ever seen.

"So, what have we here?" the chief Urtt hissed. "I've never seen anything like you before. So pale." As he spoke he ran his fingers over her face and then let them drift down to just above her breasts.

Zenaria heaved her body in a fruitless attempt to break free. The sensation of the Urtt's fingers on her body disgusted and enraged her. "You don't like that? Well, you better get used to it. You look like fine breeding stock."

"What do you think, Krachjar? Should we have a better look at it?" He took out his knife as he spoke and placed it again the sleeve of Zenaria's shirt.

Krachjar nodded. Although all Urtts appeared pretty much the same to Zenaria Krachjar was distinguished by having just one eye, the other being covered by a patch. "It looks to be a bountiful producer of milk, Frhang. But it wouldn't hurt to be sure."

Frhang's knife sliced through the antelope skin shirt. With a few quick cuts the garment fell from her body, baring her to the waist, but the Urtt didn't stop there. Several other swift slashes cut away her breeches leaving her stripped to the skin. Somewhere in her struggles in the water she had lost both her boots, so he didn't have to bother with them.

Even though exhausted, Zenaria quivered with rage. She strained against her bonds, but she had been tied at the wrists and elbows and just above her ankles. She could do nothing as Frhang ran his fingers over her body. "A bit of a fighter," he said. "Did you see the way it took off Brack's head? But it can be broken. When it whelps the pups should fetch a good price."

"Urtt scum," Zenaria gasped. "You'll never break me."

Both Urtts looked at her in surprise. "It speaks. Who would have thought the cow capable of speech?"

It hadn't registered on Zenaria that the Urtts were speaking in their language. Once again the spell that the sorcerer Alzid had cast on her was at work enabling her to speak and understand languages that should have been a mystery to her.

"Can you understand me, cow?" Frhang asked, his hands travelling over Zenaria's breasts. "Do you know what I am going to do to you?"

Zenaria spat in his face, her skin crawling as he touched her.

"Filthy human cow," Frhang hissed. He wiped the spittle from his face and then drove his fist into Zenaria's belly.

It was a blow Zenaria had expected, and the punch bounced off her tensed muscles. Frhang shook his hand, his fangs barred in anger. "Bitch," he roared. Bringing up his other hand he struck her face, splitting her lower lip. Then he struck again, catching her high on her right cheek, just below her eye. A third blow struck her between her breasts. "It will be pleasurable breaking you. And you will be broken, cow. It starts tonight."

"Why not enjoy it and the dark-skinned cow now?" Krachjar asked. "There is time before we make camp."

"A tempting suggestion," Frhang answered. "But we are deep in human territory. I think it better to return to camp first. We will have plenty of time tonight."

Krachjar shrugged, but he did not object. Instead he motioned to several Urtt-like creatures stationed behind him. Zenaria had not noticed them before but now she took a good look. They appeared to be Urtts but something was not quite right about them. Then she realized what they were. Half- Urtts. Offspring of Urtts and human slaves. She had heard of captured human females being bred by their Urtt masters, and now she saw the result.

Physically they were about the same size as Urtts and their skins were a darker shade of yellow-green. They seemed equally divided between males and females, the latter having obvious mammalian characteristics. However, their demeanour spoke of their slave existence. Heads bowed they approached the captives, not looking up until they reached Sulia and Zenaria. While the two warriors waited helplessly the Urtt slaves dragged forward two long saplings that had been trimmed of their leaves and branches. Sulia and Zenaria were laid flat on the ground and the poles centred along the lengths of their bodies. They were tied to them at the ankles, knees, waist, and just below and above their breasts, and then they were hoisted off the ground and carried by two slaves at each end like so much baggage.

Zenaria swung helplessly as she was carried. Exhausted from her ordeal in the river and her climb from the canyon; not to mention her efforts to escape the Urtts, it was a dizzying ride. Her lip was cut and her cheek so swollen from where Frhang had hit her that one eye was almost closed. She hung face down, her swaying breasts obvious targets for the Urtts walking alongside.

"Yes; this one will do nicely," Krachjar said as he fondled her. "Its milk glands are marvellously developed; even more so than most of its kind." He stopped for a heartbeat to let Sulia catch up with him. "Although this one comes close," he continued as he squeezed Sulia's breasts.

"Hyena dung," the Urulana princess gasped. "You will pay for that."

"Neither one knows when it's beaten," Krachjar grinned, displaying a mouthful of sharp teeth. "It will take a lot to break them, but the task will be pleasant."

The touching and fondling continued for most of the dreary march. But it was nothing compared to the apprehension both women felt about what was going to happen when it ended. The Urtts delighted in describing in detail the so-called breeding process even though only Zenaria could understand anything they said. Almost certainly, however, Sulia knew what her fate was going to be. How could she not when the half-Urtts that carried her were clear evidence of what their captors intended?

Even being carried the trek was arduous. Their humiliating and painfully bound position drained their strength with every step. But Zenaria refused to give up hope. Somehow she would find a way to escape. She always had. The Urtts could not break her. But whether she would be able to escape before they had had their brutal way with her was another matter. She was utterly exhausted. Even if the opportunity presented itself would she be able to take advantage of it?

Noon came and went. The Urtts stopped to eat, but made no effort to feed their prisoners. Instead they spent most of their time tormenting and taunting their helpless captives. Fortunately, the break was short. They were hoisted to the shoulders of the slaves and once again the trek continued.

Mid-afternoon came and with it a sudden shout from the head of the column. It was answered by another shout and Zenaria realized that the Urtts had reached their safe haven. They had been travelling through an area of mixed forest and grasslands, moving parallel to the Mountain of Fire. The mountain was now quiescent after its fiery exhibition, Rahlu having seemingly exhausted his anger. The area they were entering was broken by large outcrops of black rock and it was toward one of these outcrops that the procession now moved.

Zenaria's heart sank as a number of Urtts emerged from the rocks. It appeared that their captors were part of a much larger group of Urtts. If escape had been difficult before, now it would be doubly so. There was considerable chatter as they entered the Urtt encampment, the welcoming Urtts swarming around the helpless captives. "What have you here, Frhang. A human cow with pale skin. Where did you get it?"

Frhang laughed. "It's a real find. Would you believe I found it and the black one climbing out of a canyon? They were soaked to the skin. A strange find, but a lucky one. I have never found better breeding stock. What of you, Deg. Did you find anything worthwhile?"

"Just a few stragglers. All male. The mountain shook the ground so much I thought it best to come back here."

"Well, we can have these two tonight. They promise to be most enjoyable."

Deg laughed. "I suppose you get to go first."

"Of course. I'm the biggest and I'm the one that found them."

"And I'm second," Krachjar added. "Unless you want to fight me for them."

"I'll settle for third," Deg conceded. "They look to be worth the wait."

By now the Urtts and their captives had entered the rocks. They wound among them for a short while and then came to the mouth of a deep cave. It was so well hidden among the twists and turns of the rocks that it would have been almost impossible to find by chance. It was almost perfectly circular, as if it had been created intentionally. However, Zenaria was more interested in the fact that it was inhabited by several dozen Urtts and an equal number of slaves. Her skin tingled in fear as she realized that she and Sulia were now so heavily outnumbered that escape was going to be near impossible. And what had been promised them was the proverbial fate worse than death.

Although such a concept was alien to Zenaria's culture, she now understood what it meant. The thought of being ravished by over thirty Urtts had her sweating in fear, but she gave no sign of her apprehension. She would die before showing fear before an Urtt and she would never give up hope, but she prepared herself for a horrible ordeal, knowing that she did not have long to wait.

As she and Sulia were carried deeper into the cave she became aware of a strong odour. But it was not the usual reptilian stench associated with a large number of Urtts, but something else instead. It was more like the smell of rotten eggs, but she didn't clearly identify it until she and Sulia were dumped onto the floor of the cave. Just a few feet away a large pool bubbled, giving off both the foul smell and considerable heat.

"You want a hot bath, human cows?" Frhang jeered. "Maybe if you don't work out we'll dump you in the boiling pond. He turned to the half-Urtt slaves. "Untie them from the poles and throw them in the cages. We'll deal with them after we've eaten."

The slaves did as they were told, removing the ropes that bound them to the poles but not untying their arms or legs. They then dumped them into a crude wicker cage. Too exhausted to struggle with their bonds, the two captives lay at the bottom of the cages while the slaves hoisted them off the floor. To add to their discomfort the cages were swung through the air until they directly over the bubbling pool.

The Urtts left them to stew over the pool, leaving a couple of slaves to watch them, but stripped of their clothing and weapons neither captive was going anywhere. They lay exhausted, the sweat streaming from their bodies while the Urtts gathered around a large campfire for their evening meal.

From where Zenaria was the meal seemed to consist mostly of meat, and large amounts of it. The smell permeated the cave, mingling with that of the sulphurous stench rising from the pool below her. But Zenaria and Sulia had no appetite; robbed of the desire to eat by the exhaustion and the stink surrounding them.

The Urtt's feast was a noisy and boisterous affair with a considerable amount of drinking. Exactly what they were drinking was hard to determine from Zenaria's vantage point, but from the volume of sound it appeared that they had managed to brew up some sort of intoxicating beverage. Eventually, however, the feast ended and with it Zenaria's and Sulia's brief reprieve.

The Urtts came for them, many of them swaying drunkenly, but more than enough to handle two beaten and bound women. The cages were swung away from the bubbling pool and the doors thrown open. Then the two captives were dragged toward the fires.

Zenaria was almost too weak to fight, as was Sulia, but as their ankles were unbound and their legs spread, both women fought desperately.

Frhang and Krachjar stood in front of them surveying their prizes. Both Urtts appeared more than a little drunk, but not enough to eliminate their intention to commit rape. "You still want the white cow first?" Krachjar asked.

"Never had one like her before," the Urtt leader answered. "And I'm looking forward to finding out what she's like."

"Then let's get started," Krachjar answered. He tossed aside his brief loin covering, revealing the fact that the drink had in no way impaired his ability to achieve an erection.

Frhang laughed, and emulated his lieutenant as with a good deal of pushing and shoving the other Urtts gathered to watch their leaders and wait their turn. The Urtts holding Zenaria's ankles pulled her legs a little father apart. From somewhere she found the strength to fight, but her efforts were feeble and with her arms still bound at the wrists and elbows there was nothing she could do as Frhang moved between her thighs.

"And now, cow," Frhang leered. "You are mine." His hands on her breasts, he thrust his hips forward.

The earth moved; literally. Frhang cursed as he was thrown completely over Zenaria's head, landing on his back. Farther back in the cave by the boiling pool there was a sudden eruption and a geyser of steam and boiling water exploded toward the roof. It was followed by an even greater eruption and a blast of heat that roared through the cave in a searing wave.

The shrieks of scalded Urtts and their slaves filled the air. Fortunately for Zenaria and Sulia, their position on the floor allowed them to escape the worst of the burning steam and hot water. Even so, they were scalded in several places and would have been burned even worse had not Frhang and Krachjar inadvertently protected them from the burring vapour.

The ground shook again, and parts of the cave roof fell to the floor. Ominously the water in the boiling pool was suddenly sucked away as if by some giant living in the ground. From the hole that remained came a low hissing as if an enormous snake was hiding underground.

Zenaria got wearily to her feet. She was almost completely spent, and her wrists and arms were still bound. Those Urtts that were still able were fleeing the cave, and she looked around for Sulia. She found the Urulana princess still lying where Krachjar had been about to rape her. Her mouth dry from lack of water she called out. "Sulia, we must escape. Get up."

Sulia rolled to her knees, her movements agonizingly slow. Zenaria longed to rush over and help her, provided the proud warrior would have accepted her help, but she was helpless to do so. All she could do was watch as her companion slowly staggered to her feet. "Come," she urged. "We haven't much time."

Sulia nodded her agreement. Awkwardly, as if drunk she lurched toward the entrance, her bound wrists and arms making her movements doubly difficult.

Zenaria found it equally awkward, but forged toward the entrance in spite of the continual shuddering of the ground and the rock falling from the cave ceiling. Stepping over the bodies of several scalded Urtts and manoeuvring around others that lay moaning on the floor, she made her way to the cave entrance and out into the night air. She took in several long breaths of clean air and then headed away from the entrance as fast as she could, Sulia following. It was well that she did. Barely had she made it out of the line of sight of the cave entrance when there was another immense roar and a huge cloud of heated vapour burst out of the cave entrance.

There were no more screams and Zenaria knew that nothing could have survived the terrible heat. She stood breathing heavily. Somehow she had to find a way out of her bonds. Did she dare go back into the cave where her sword and knife were? She doubted that she could struggle out of her bonds without cutting them, the Urtts had simply tied her too well, and she didn't have the energy. However, that matter was taken out of her hands just a heartbeat later.

"You cows didn't think you would escape me so easily, did you?" The voice hissed from just behind Zenaria and she turned to see Frhang standing there. It was apparent that he had suffered in the steam explosion. The skin on his head and shoulders was blistered and although his back was hidden, Zenaria was sure that he was burned there as well. Whatever his injuries, however, he appeared healthy enough to defeat two exhausted and bound warriors.

Zenaria took a step back and then lunged toward him. "Run Sulia," she cried. "Save yourself."

She might as well have been shouting to the wind. The Urulana princess moved to her side and glared at the Urtt captain. "How noble," Frhang sneered. "But two cows are no match for an Urtt warrior."

"Untie me and you will see just how well I fight. Or are your words those of a coward."

"I do not answer to a human cow," Frhang answered. Before Zenaria could move he stepped forward and slammed his fist into her face.

She staggered back, her nose streaming blood and her eyes filling with tears. Barely able to see, she could not avoid the next blow or the next.

He beat her to her knees and then turned on Sulia. Barely conscious Zenaria could hear the sound of the blows as Frhang beat Sulia into submission; then he turned back to Zenaria and delivered several kicks to her ribs. "Never forget that I am your master, human cow. I can and will do with you as I wish and you will obey me in all things." From somewhere he produced a length of rope that he quickly looped about each of their necks. Jerking on the rope, he forced Zenaria to her feet and then moved off into the darkness. Zenaria was forced to follow, dragging Sulia with her. Barely able to stand, both women stumbled along behind trying to avoid falling over obstacles in the dark.

They didn't go far. It didn't make sense to brave the animal-filled landscape at night and the ground trembled continuously, making walking difficult. Frhang led them to a sheltered spot in the rocks. Removing the rope from their necks he bound their ankles and moving a short distance away he lay down to rest. Zenaria noted that he lay face down, attesting to the pain he must be feeling in his scalded back. "Don't try to escape," he warned. "I will hear you and if you wake me up I'll remove the skin from the bottom of you feet."

In the distance the Mountain of Fire rumbled again as if to give emphasis to his words. Beaten but not broken, Zenaria was too weary to offer resistance. Overcome by exhaustion she closed her eyes and slept.

She awoke near dawn, her limbs incredibly cramped. She could no longer feel her hands, the fingers of which were swollen to double their normal size and her body throbbed with pain, partly from the beating Frhang had administered and partly from the partial scalding she had received in the cave. Her mouth was dry and she was weak from hunger. She had no idea what Frhang intended to do to her, but she knew she wouldn't last much longer without food.

Frhang was already awake, no doubt the pain of his burns made it difficult to sleep, but he was as tough as he looked. As Zenaria opened her eyes he strode over to her. "There's no point in staying here, cow. Today we march."

"I march nowhere without food or water," Zenaria replied. "You can beat me all you want, but neither of us will be of any use to you if you don't give us what we need to stay alive."

Frhang seemed to consider her words. "You've the mouthiest human cow I've ever captured," he said, "but what you say makes sense. "I'll give you food and water and then we leave."

Zenaria expected that it would be too much to ask to have her ands untied, but she worried about that even more than the lack of food and drink. If she stayed tied much longer she might be too crippled to ever use her fingers properly.

Frhang managed to scrounge up some leftover meat. Evidently he had gone back into the cave to get it, as he reappeared carrying Zenaria's sword and dagger and was once again wearing a loincloth. He set the meat on the ground and began to cut it up with the dagger.

"We could eat better if you untied our hands," Zenaria suggested.

"I'm not that stupid," Frhang replied. "You stay tied."

"I've been tied up so long I'm no threat to you," Zenaria countered. "If you watch us and keep our ankles tied we can finish faster and be on our way."

Frhang seemed to consider her words. Finally he nodded. "Alright. But any tricks and I'll cut off your toes. You don't need toes for me to breed you."

He moved behind her and removed her bonds and then did the same with Sulia. Zenaria almost cried out in agony as the blood pounded back into her fingers. As she had asserted she could hardly hold the chunks of meat or pick up the waterskin he tossed her. Nevertheless, she managed to get enough food and water into her stomach to revive her somewhat. However, much sooner than she would have liked |Frhang pulled her arms behind her back again. This time he did not tie her wrists, but he tied her tightly at the elbows and then after tying Sulia identically he removed the bonds from their feet ordered them to get up.

Wearily both warriors did as they were told. Both of them needed more rest than they had been allowed, but they knew they were not going to get any. Frhang had tethered them again and he took the lead parading his captives after him. Zenaria had no idea where she was being taken and since she could not speak to Sulia without fear of punishment she simply guessed that they were being taken back to Urtt territory. Wherever they were going, they headed steadily away from the Mountain of Fire.

The huge mountain was awake again, spewing fountains of fire into the sky and Zenaria realized with a flash of inspiration where all the water had come from in the flood that had swept through the canyon. The top of the mountain was covered with snow and almost certainly the heat generated by the exploding mountain must have melted some of it. She wondered if more floodwaters might be heading their way. It was something she kept in mind as she trekked behind Frhang wondering if she might possibly turn it to her advantage.

She kept her eyes on Frhang as he moved in front of her. She was deeply angered that he was wearing her sword, but at the same time glad that it was not yet lost to her. It had belonged to her father and had great sentimental value. "Something will happen," she thought. "Somehow I will get it back."

She and Sulia trudged along behind Frhang. The food and water he had given them helped to renew their strength, but they were no closer to escaping than they had been when they had been hung in the wicker cages in the cave. Already Zenaria could feel the numbness returning to her hands, but the way she was tied made it almost impossible to loosen the ropes. Straining at the ropes that pulled her elbows together simply made the knots tighter. Resignedly she gave up trying. Frhang couldn't keep her tied up forever. Unfortunately he might keep her captive long enough to get her where he wanted.

On this gloomy note Zenaria trudged on. Behind her the Mountain of Fire thundered and shook the ground. Before her the trees parted once again revealing the grassy plain with its herds of animals and scattered trees. Every step took her closer to permanent captivity and a life of brutal slavery.

Chapter 6: Ape Master

Frhang did not let up; dragging his captives mercilessly behind him; halting only to drink whenever they came to a stream. Even at these stops he did not remove their bonds; instead he forced them to lie on their bellies and lap the water like animals. The Urtt looked over his shoulder continuously, not only to check on his captives, but to make sure that there was no pursuit. Now that he was alone a chance encounter with an Urulana patrol would have been fatal. Perhaps it was because of this or for some other reason that he did not pay as much attention to what was in front of him until it was too late.

He led them into an area of large limestone boulders. They were innocuous enough by themselves and they wound they way into them until they were comply surrounded by gigantic grey rocks. It was then that there was an almost human shriek of rage. Frhang turned in the direction of the sound, his yellow eyes wide with fear. Zenaria and Sulia followed his gaze. About five yards away, perched on top of one of the larger boulders was an animal that seemed to be a cross between a dog and a monkey. It resembled the latter more than anything else and Zenaria had seen creatures like it before in the rainforests of Jingua, but they had been small, long-tailed animals that scampered from tree to tree. This creature was larger, with a dog-like snout sporting large canine teeth and it appeared a good deal more aggressive. It growled menacingly at them baring its fangs and adopting a hostile posture.

Frhang drew Zenaria's sword and gripped his mace in his other hand, temporarily letting go of the rope. Zenaria was surprised that he seemed so alarmed by a single animal, but she saw why when several dozen more suddenly appeared, scrambling over the rocks to stand next to the first beast.

"Baboons," Sulia whispered. "They are pack animals and we have strayed into their territory."

Zenaria was not too concerned about the animals' characteristics. It was their aggressive stance that had her worried. With her arms bound behind her she was helpless to defend herself and would even have trouble running if she chose to flee.

"Free us, Frhang. We can help you defend."

Frhang laughed, displaying a row of remarkably sharp teeth. "You think me a fool? You would stab me in the back as soon as the chance presented itself."

"You have my word that we would not," Zenaria replied. "Release us and I promise we will make no attempt to kill you."

"And I suppose you would lie down and let me tie you up again. I am not that foolish."

"You would prefer to be torn to pieces by baboons instead? You are making no sense. I give you my word that if you let us fight beside you we will allow you to go on your way."

"So you say. I am not so stupid as to trust a human cow," Frhang sneered, his eyes firmly fixed on the horde of baboons. Most of the animals were demonstrating fiercely; apparently building up their courage prior to attack. Their numbers had now grown to close to a hundred and they were edging closer, their courage growing as their odds improved.

Zenaria turned her head and saw that there were now baboons behind them as well. They were encircled with apparently no way out and the strength of their enemies growing with every heartbeat. Zenaria's looked frantically around, looking for someway out, but saw only more baboons. However, Frhang no longer had his hand on the tether he had used to lead them. She and Sulia were still bound, but there was nothing to stop them from making a run for it. But it was not in her nature to flee before an enemy especially under such doubtful circumstances. She resorted to her natural instincts.

"I will not die helpless because of the stupidity of an Urtt," she cried. She took a single step forward, closing the distance between herself and Frhang. She was far from being in fighting trim, but she put to use a technique she had learned from Tren, her first lover. Planting her left foot she pivoted, at the same time bringing up her right leg in a powerful swing that had the full weight and power of her body behind it.

Too late Frhang realized that she was moving. The ball of her foot drove into his body just where his sternum met his belly. There was an ugly crack and a cry of pain as the Urtt folded and dropped to the ground. Incredibly, considering the force of the blow, Frhang actually attempt to get to his feet, but he coughed, bringing up bloody phlegm and fell back gasping for air.

Zenaria had not hit the Urtt as well as she would have liked with her body off-balance due to the way her arms were pinioned, but she had hit him hard enough. Tugging Sulia after her she managed to squat and retrieve her sword. The Urulana princess caught on quickly and turned her body so that Zenaria could hold the blade of the sword against it. Moving her body back and forth she managed to saw through the rope binding her elbows and then took the sword and cut through Zenaria's bonds.

All the while both women kept their eyes on the baboons, who seemed somewhat baffled by the events unfolding in front of them. They had not expected the intruders in their territory to fight among themselves and probably did not realize just how helpless Zenaria and Sulia had been, now however, they began to move closer once again, making raucous barking sounds. It was about that time that Frhang suddenly lurched to his feet.

He was spitting blood, but the same toughness that allowed him to recover from the blow that Zenaria had dealt him allowed him to pick up his mace and charge toward the surprised women, catching them completely off-guard.

Zenaria was unarmed; Sulia still holding her sword after cutting her ropes. Since she was closest Frhang aimed his first blow at her, but Zenaria had trained against far better fighters than the Urtt. The blow was powerful, but delivered without subtlety and she side-stepped it just in time, the mace grazing her shoulder as it swept by. Zenaria's right arm went numb, but she was able to spin away from a follow up blow.

His first target having escaped, the Urtt went after Sulia, swinging the mace in a blow that would have crushed her skull if it had connected. Stepping back Sulia tried to defend herself with the unfamiliar weapon, holding the blade in front of her with both hands. But the sword was not the spear she was used to wielding and Frhang batted the blade aside, striking at her head once more. This time she barely evaded the blow and Frhang charged forward, pressing his advantage as Sulia desperately back-pedalled.

Zenaria shook her injured arm, attempting to get some feeling back into it. She could see that it was only a matter of time before Frhang caught up with Sulia. She had to do something and so she hurled herself toward the Urtt.

Some instinct must have alerted Frhang, however, because as she was almost on him he suddenly whirled, his mace ready. Zenaria was forced to come to a complete halt and retreat as he turned on her, swinging the mace with deadly intent.

"Human cows," Frhang raged. "Think you can defeat an Urtt warrior? I'll kill both of you."

Zenaria backed away, her eyes searching for some sort of weapon. Frhang kept after her, positioning himself so that he could watch Sulia at the same time. Zenaria watched the gathering baboons. Fortunately, they seemed content to merely bark and watch the strange antics of those who had invaded their territory.

Other than a few rocks there seemed little available that could be used as a weapon. Warily Zenaria circled, trying to keep out of striking distance. Her right arm was useless and hung limply at her side; if she had been alone Frhang would probably have made short work of her. Fortunately Sulia provided a distraction. Even if she had no idea how to use the sword properly she was an imposing presence, standing over a head taller than the Urtt. Even an accidental blow would have been deadly and the Urtt kept an eye on her occasionally making a move toward her if she got too close.

Zenaria feared that Sulia might try something rash. Neither of them was in the best of condition, and even though he had suffered in the explosion of stream, Frhang seemed to be in the best shape of all of them.

Frhang suddenly charged toward Sulia, attacking her in a flurry of blows. Somehow in spite of her inexperience she handled the sword well enough to hold him off, but he drove her back across the open space and would have pinned her against one of the boulders if Zenaria had not charged toward him once again.

Frhang whirled on her, the mace passing within a hand's breadth of her breasts. Zenaria stepped away, and Sulia, trying to take advantage of the distraction, moved toward him. But it had all been a feint; Frhang spun and only Sulia's quick reflexes kept her from being killed. She brought up her left arm and blocked the blow, but it was a painful save. The mace thudded hard into her and there was the ugly crack of breaking bone. Sulia cried out, falling back while Frhang readied himself for a killing blow.

He whirled the mace high over his head. Sulia did the only thing she could, lunging toward him and ducking beneath the mace, but her attack was awkward, the blade creasing his stomach, allowing him to move away from the attack.

Sulia was out of the fight. Her arm hung useless and her face was twisted in pain. Wide open to Frhang's attack, she tossed the sword toward Zenaria and then rolled to the ground to avoid having her skull crushed.

Frhang seemed to know he had won. Ignoring the fallen Urulana princess he turned to Zenaria. "Surrender, cow and I will let you live."

Zenaria smiled. She had her sword, and although her right arm was numb, the Urtt was about to discover that a warrior of the Snow Leopard was trained to use her sword with either hand. She hefted the blade, her blood surging at its familiar weight and balance.

Frhang hesitated, realizing from her demeanour that he may have underestimated her, but Zenaria wasted no time. Her enemy was in front of her and every act of humiliation and brutality was fresh in her mind. She stalked her prey like the animal her tribe represented.

"Now you die, Urtt." She spoke the words calmly and with complete conviction. Fear flickered in Frhang's eyes and he took a step backward and then another. Zenaria twirled her sword and then closed at a run.

Frhang broke. Hurling his mace toward her, he turned and ran. It turned out to be a very bad idea. Like a damn bursting dozens of baboons poured off the rocks and swarmed toward the fleeing Urtt. In an instant he was buried in snarling, biting, furry bodies. Zenaria watched for a few seconds as the Urtt was literally ripped apart and then ran to Sulia. Handing her companion the mace she turned with her back to one of the large boulders and prepared to defend herself.

There was no point in running; Frhang's end had shown her that. Even with only two good arms between them they had a better chance of surviving if they stood and fought. However, considering the numbers and ferocity of their enemies Zenaria did not give either of them much chance of surviving.

The baboons finished with Frhang. After bouncing in triumph on his torn body they regrouped, climbing the boulders closest to Zenaria and Sulia until they faced them in a semicircle consisting of hundreds of barking, posturing baboons. Once again the creatures seemed to be working up their courage before attacking, assuming challenging positions and then retreating and then returning again. Gradually they edged closer until many of them were close enough to reach the two women in a single jump.

With her sword arm Zenaria reached to her left and touched Sulia on her shoulder. Then she prepared to meet the baboon attack. It was a simple gesture and since it was her right arm that Frhang had broken Sulia could not return it, but she gave her light-skinned companion a smile and raised the mace, indicating that she too was ready to die fighting.

The poignant moment, however, lasted only a few heartbeats. It was broken by the appearance of a strange figure that suddenly appeared on a large boulder just behind the baboons.

Zenaria's eyes widened in amazement. It was probably not the most amazing thing she had seen in her relatively short life, but it came close. She was not sure if the figure before her was man or ape. It appeared to be a combination of the two. It stood probably only a little more than half Zenaria's height and was clad only in a simple animal skin loincloth. Its skin was dark brown, similar to that of the Urulana. Bowlegged, it had arms that hung down past its knees.

Its face was also a study. Its nose was wide and the eyes deep set. A large gold ring pierced the septum of its nose, reaching down almost to its upper lip. There were matching rings in the lobes of each of its large ears and several gold bracelets adorned its right wrist. Straggly grey hair hung down over its shoulders, falling almost to its waist. If it was human it was probably the ugliest person Zenaria had ever seen. In its hand it held a wooden staff decorated with strings of small animal skulls. On the very top was the skull of some large carnivore, probably a leopard or beast of similar size. As it moved forward it was revealed that its large flat feet were bare, but that each ankle wore a circlet of tiny bells that tinkled as it moved.

Zenaria finally decided that it was male and probably human or some derivative of human. He moved through the pack of baboons until he was standing on the lip of the boulder and stared at the two warriors. "So you are an enemy of the Urtts. That is good. It will not be necessary to kill you."

The words were slurred as if his tongue had difficulty forming the words. She was also struck by the deepness of the strange man's voice, noticing also that he revealed large ape-like incisors when he opened his mouth. Perhaps he was not so much a man after all, but at least he was not entirely a beast.

"I am the Princess Zenaria of the tribe of the Snow Leopard," Zenaria replied. "And this is Princess Sulia of the Urulana. As you see we are enemies of the Urtts and did not intend to trespass upon your territory."

"Princesses…" the strange man mused. A strange glow came into his eyes and then was gone. "You are hurt," he continued. "You will come with me and I will tend to your wounds."

Something about the strange man made Zenaria decidedly uneasy, but she didn't think she could do anything other than what she had been asked. The sensation was returning to her right arm, but Sulia obviously needed further attention. "What do we call you?" she asked.

The man had already half-turned as if to lead them, but he turned back. Raising bushy brows he looked at them with a somewhat puzzled expression on his face. "It has been a long time since anyone called me anything." He thought for a bit. "Call me Baugh. I think that was the name I last used."

As Baugh moved off across the rocks Zenaria exchanged a glance with Sulia. The Urulana princess was shaking; barely able to stand. For a heartbeat Zenaria thought she was reacting to the pain of her injury, but then she realized that her quick breathing and dilated eyes was due to fear. "Baugh," the Urulanan princess whispered. Sweat beaded her brow, running into her eyes. "Evil, he is evil."

Zenaria looked after the retreating ape-man. For all of his obvious power over the baboons, he did not appear particularly dangerous, but Sulia was obviously terrified, and was shaking so badly she could hardly stand. However, with her broken arm and the fact that they were still surrounded by baboons, there was very little that Zenaria could do. And Baugh had stopped and was waiting, his face unreadable, but his body language indicating his impatience. She took Sulia's good arm and to her relief the princess did not protest.

They followed Baugh as best they could. Zenaria did not wish to chance climbing the rocks with Sulia's injury and so they wove their way among the boulders until they finally reached a place where they were forced to climb. Fortunately, they were able to use a couple of smaller boulders to help them up. By this time Baugh had disappeared into a gap in the rocks, but there was no trouble spotting his baboon entourage and headed in that direction.

The way between the rocks narrowed until they were in a narrow passage barely a yard wide and were forced to walk single file. High cliffs rose on either side gradually coming together at the top until they almost touched and it was almost like being in a cave. Baboons scampered ahead of them and well as behind. Although none of the animals offered any threat Zenaria could not help but think that if they did, neither she nor Sulia would have much of a chance.

The narrow defile suddenly widened, opening into an area about thirty feet across. A small stream trickled down one wall of the cliff, filling a small pool and then overflowing to dribble away through a crack in the rocks. Vines and creepers climbed the steep rock surrounding the small amphitheatre offering a possible way out for those agile enough to climb them. Farther on there was a small cave that was evidently used by Baugh as a sleeping area. Just in front of the cave was a firepit and a pile of wood. Baugh was waiting for them just in front of the cave. He was seated on a simple wooden stool and was unwrapping a bundle wrapped in zebra hide.

He set the bundle before him, revealing a number of small pouches tied off with leather thongs and a number of needles and other instruments that seemed to be medically related. "I haven't used this on humans for quite some time," he said. "But I think I can deal with your injury."

Sulia did not move. In spite of her injury she would not sit, but stood trembling next to Zenaria. Baugh gestured impatiently. "Sit here" he commanded, pointing to a boulder close to him. "I won't bite you." Sweating, Sulia positioned herself on the rock and waited, controlling herself only with difficulty.

Baugh opened up one of the pouches and shook a white powder into a bowl made out of the husk of some sort of nut. Then he added a small amount of water from the spring and mixed it with a straw. He handed it to Sulia. "Drink this. It will dull the pain."

Sulia shook her head. "I am a warrior." I can handle pain."

Zenaria placed her hand on her companion's shoulder. The trembling had stopped, but Sulia was as taut as a bowstring. What was it she feared about the strange shaman? So far he had offered no threat, but Zenaria was tense, watching for any threat.

Baugh's thick eyebrows contracted. "I am not questioning your courage, but I don't want you jerking when I set the bone. Do as you are told."

His tone was almost threatening and Sulia reached out and took the cup and swallowed, grimacing a little at the taste of the medicine.

"Catch her when she falls," Baugh ordered Zenaria.

"What…?" Zenaria began, and then moved to catch Sulia as she toppled sideways.

"What did you do to her?" Zenaria shouted, lowering Sulia to the ground and reaching for her sword.

Baugh seemed completely unconcerned. "Please put down your sword. I did as I said I was going to; I gave her something to dull her pain. She will awake shortly. Please do not waste my time."

Many of the baboons had crowded closer, their posture threatening; but an even larger threat loomed from above. Swinging down one of the thick vines was the largest monkey Zenaria had ever seen. Covered in black hair, it was at least twice her width although not nearly as tall, but so powerfully built that it probably weighed two or three times what she did. She saw as it reached the bottom that it lacked the prehensile tail she had seen on other monkeys and guessed that the huge animal was some sort of relative.

"You see that among the apes I have many friends," Baugh commented. "Do not worry; Saugh will not harm you provided you do nothing to make him angry."

Zenaria lowered her blade. The odds were not exactly in her favour, but it would not have stopped her if she thought Baugh had harmed Sulia. Since the Urulana warrior was still breathing she felt that she had little choice but to trust the strange little man; at least until he did something really threatening.

Being surrounded by baboons did nothing to reassure her, and the hulking presence of Saugh was even more unnerving, but she could do nothing except hold Sulia while Baugh tended to her.

Moving to Sulia's side, Baugh tested her broken left arm. "Both bones are broken," he muttered almost as if speaking to himself. "Splintered too. This will be a little tricky."

He tenderly probed the arm, and then from the zebra skin medical kit he had unrolled he took out two long clean white bones and lined them up along the area of the break. He took out two more and placed one below the wrist and the other on top. Very carefully he wrapped the bones in leather and then tied everything in place with rawhide thongs creating a crude but effective splint. Zenaria thought that was all there was going to be to it, but what Baugh did next surprised her. Placing his hands on the splinted wrist he closed his eyes and seemed to meditate.

Zenaria had seen only one thing like this before and that was when Varden used his healing powers. She waited to see if what Baugh was doing would have the same effect.

It was several hundred heartbeats before Baugh open his eyes again. His dark brown eyes met Zenaria's. "It will take her a week or so to completely heal, but the bones have been set properly. Now she must rest, and from the way you look so should you."

Zenaria looked around the small amphitheatre rather dubiously. It seemed a rather unpromising place to stay, but Baugh did not seem the least put off. "You may sleep over there. Do not worry there will be no rain and I will have my companions bring bedding. It will do until better quarters can be found for you."

It was about that time that Zenaria began to wonder just how long Baugh expected them to stay. She was more than used to rough camping and had no need of any elaborate preparations. What really bothered her, however, was that she was not sure whether she and Sulia were guests or prisoners. Certainly if Baugh decided that he wanted to keep them from leaving it would be a formidable task to fight their way past hundreds of baboons, not to mention the huge monkey.

Picking Sulia up, she carried her across to the area that Baugh had indicated and set her gently on the ground. Zenaria settled beside her and waited. She was almost overcome by fatigue, but fought to stay awake so that she could keep an eye on Baugh. In spite of the fact that he had helped Sulia, she realized just how helpless she was when faced with his powers. He was obviously some sort of shaman and therefore someone to be respected and perhaps feared. Exhaustion, however, won out over duty. In spite of her best intentions Zenaria could not keep her eyes open.

She awoke sometime later to find that it was now dark. Someone, almost certainly Baugh, had covered her with a woven grass mat that substituted as a blanket. Beside her Sulia was still sleeping. Her even breathing seemed to indicate a natural sleep and Zenaria supposed that like her she was probably recovering from the ordeal she had been put through.

Carefully she pushed aside the mat and got unsteadily to her feet. Every muscle in her body protested, but she persevered. In front of Baugh's cave a small fire was burning, throwing flickering light on the surrounding stone walls. Baugh emerged from his cave and shambled toward her. "I have sent my companions for food. They should return soon." Zenaria noted that Saugh was gone along with most of the baboons, but she supposed that most of them were very close by. Just outside the cave was a pile of simple building materials.

"There is room for you to construct a simple shelter until further arrangements can be made," Baugh said. "Tomorrow we will talk of such matters."

"What matters?" Zenaria asked. "And what arrangements?"

"Tomorrow," Baugh replied. "But there is just one thing. You and your companion did say that you were of royal blood?'

"We are," Zenaria replied. "But what of it?"

"We will discuss it later. For now I will help with your shelter."

Baugh's help consisted of having his baboon companions put together a shelter. Very surprisingly they proved quite adept at construction, responding quickly to the barks Baugh delivered. By the time the shelter was built, Sulia was awake and other baboons had returned with food. It was mostly fruit and nuts, but it was plentiful and tasty enough even if it wasn't what the two women were used to. Washed down with tea brewed over the fire, it soon filled them up. As they ate Zenaria watched Sulia. She seemed to have overcome her fear of Baugh; either that or she was disguising it well.

Baugh ate with them, his manner of eating more typical of an ape than a man. But even while he was eating Baugh's eyes never left them. Zenaria was certain that something was coming, but she had no idea what. She was suddenly acutely uncomfortable with the fact that she and Sulia had been stripped of their clothing by the Urtts.

Baugh, however, said nothing during the meal or after except to offer to look at her wounds. "I thank you," she replied. "But I'll be fine in a day or so. Then perhaps Sulia and I can do something for you to repay your hospitality before we leave."

"That too can wait until tomorrow. Now you rest." Without another word Baugh rose from his sitting position and moved in to his cave shelter.

Zenaria and Sulia looked at one another. It appeared that there was little more to do than take his advice. Retreating to their tiny shelter they crawled in and lay down on the bed of grasses and leaves that they had created.

In the semi-privacy of the shelter Zenaria looked at Sulia. "What is this man? Why do you fear him?"

"He is a legend among our people," Sulia whispered. "A legend of betrayal and evil. I had thought that he did not exist. But now that I see him I cannot help but fear him."

Zenaria sat, folding her legs beneath her. In the tradition of her people a story-teller was not interrupted and she waited for Sulia to continue.

"I do not remember the story very well. It was told to me as a young girl, but it was said that Baugh was once a powerful shaman who used his powers to take the honour of a princess. For this he was punished with eternal exile and a mighty curse was laid upon him that he live his life among the apes, doomed to their company for eternity."

Zenaria nodded her understanding, and once again waited, but Sulia gave no more details. "That is all I know," she concluded. "I am afraid the tale was told to me when I was but a child and I remember nothing more. Only that he is one to be avoided."

Although her story was short, Sulia seemed exhausted, no doubt partly due to broken arm and partly due to the ordeal their Urtt captor had put her through. She yawned widely, stimulating Zenaria to do the same. Zenaria moved from her sitting position and arranged their bedding. As Sulia lay down and covered herself with the grass blanket, she settled beside her. Within a few hundred heartbeats Sulia's breathing showed that she was slipping into sleep.

They had been sleeping in one another's company for more than a week, but other than their captivity in the Urtt cages, this was the first time they had slept close to one another and alone. Zenaria could not help wondering what would happen if she reached out and touched Sulia. But she made no attempt to do so. She was still so sore that making love was the last thing she wanted to do. And she remembered Baugh's comment that Sulia would need several days to heal completely. With a sigh of regret she closed her eyes and slept.

She and Sulia awoke to the barking of baboons; not a surprising event considering that the animals seemed to quarrel at the drop of a nut. Also not surprising was the fact that Baugh was waiting for them.

He poured tea as they approached. "I see that you both appear much stronger. Sit and eat."

"I thank you for your skill in healing," Zenaria said as she sat and picked up a cup. "My companion seems much stronger." Sulia said nothing but nodded her agreement and picked up a ripe fruit. They spent the next few heartbeats eating while Baugh waited. Finally, when they had finished he began to speak.

"You have both offered to repay me for helping you. I require just one thing and that is that one of you should stay. Once you have made that choice the other may go."

"Stay?" Both women spoke at once.

"I require a mate," Baugh stated bluntly. "Either of you would do nicely. But I leave it to you."

Zenaria and Sulia simply stared at him, thunderstruck. It was several heartbeats before either of them could speak and when it was it was in tones of complete outrage.

"Nothing you have done for us deserves such a payment," Zenaria answered hotly. Her nudity now made her distinctly uncomfortable. She was more than conscious of the way Baugh's eyes flickered over her breasts and belly. She had felt that stare before on the slave auction block in the Sandakar city of Uhra Don.

"Nonetheless it is what I demand," Baugh replied. "It is your only choice. If you refuse then neither of you will be allowed to leave."

"I will die before submitting to such a demand," Zenaria cried. She snatched up her sword and leaped to her feet. Sulia followed, picking up the mace they had taken from Frhang.

Baugh did not move, regarding them calmly across the flat rock that served as his table. He seemed completely unconcerned that two armed warriors stood only a sword's reach away. "I saw how you fought for one another," he said. "I know that neither of you would do anything to endanger the life of the other. And if you attack me you can be certain you will both die."

Baugh didn't have to point out what he was talking about. Saugh squatted just a few feet away, peeling a banana, but with one eye on the two women. Several dozen baboons also perched nearby, their posture definitely menacing. And then there was Baugh himself. Zenaria had great respect for shamans. Their arcane powers were quite capable of rendering her warlike skills impotent. However, an Erogenian warrior was not one to be cowed by a simple threat. "I will not submit to such a request," she stated. "If it means my death, then that is what I choose."

"It was not your death I had in mind," Baugh replied, but that of your companion. "Would you sentence her to death in order to selfishly preserve your own honour?"

But Sulia too was having none of Baugh's blackmail. She moved next to Zenaria. "No one fights for me. And no one takes my place. I side with Zenaria. We die together." In spite of the fear she had shown the previous day, she seemed to have regained her courage and assumed a fighting stance, her still-bandaged arm held across her chest.

Baugh did not answer. Instead he got to his feet and raised his staff, the tiny skulls rattling as he did so. Zenaria and Sulia prepared to fight, expecting an attack. They were not wrong, but the form and direction from which it came caught them completely unprepared.

Their first hint of the attack was a rustling in the vines that climbed the steep walls of Baugh's refuge. Zenaria immediately thought it was the baboons moving to attack and she whirled to face them. But it was not the baboons, but the vines that were moving. Leafy tendrils reached toward her and Sulia; wrenching away from the cliff face as they sought to seize them.

Their movement was slow, but the vines came from all sides, moving toward them with deadly certainty. Zenaria swung toward Baugh, but it was too late, the shaman had retreated toward his cave, leaving a solid wall of snarling baboons backed up by Saugh between him and any danger. He watched serenely as his green minions crept toward the two women.

There was no place to retreat. Already several of the green tendrils were brushing against their legs. With a swipe of her sword Zenaria cut through a wrist-thick vine that was threatening to encircle Sulia. In return the Urulana princess attempted to bludgeon a vine that was snaking toward Zenaria.

Of the two weapons, Zenaria's sword was most suited to fighting the vines, but she hated using the fine steel blade for chopping wood. There was, however, no other choice. As green tendril after green tendril swayed toward them they hacked and slashed, desperate to keep from being overwhelmed.

But the vines were not their only enemy. As Zenaria cut back one more vine, a small shrub at her feet suddenly swayed toward her and encircled her ankle with its flexible branches. It wasn't much, but it threw off her timing causing her intended strike to miss a cluster of vines that were moving toward her. Immediately one of them wrapped itself around her wrist while another encircled the blade of her sword. With a frenzied jerk, Zenaria wrenched the blade free and then cut through the vine around her wrist, but several more vines seized her; one grabbing her just above the right knee and another looping itself around her waist.

Sulia was not doing any better. Vines were wrapped around her left ankle and thigh, while another resisted her efforts to dislodge it from around her waist. The mace was poorly suited to smashing the flexible vines, tending to knock them away rather than breaking them off. Zenaria fought to free herself, slashing through the vines holding her and then pivoting toward Sulia to help free her. But even as she raised her sword several more vines grabbed Sulia, pulling her toward the dense mass of vines still hugging the cliff. And then a thick vine entangled her sword arm at the same time as several more woody tendrils closed over her ankles and thighs.

Heaving their bodies, Zenaria and Sulia battled to break the grip of the vines, but every heartbeat saw another green tentacle wrap itself around an arm or leg until they were eventually held so fast that their efforts to escape became futile. Gasping for breath, and still straining to escape, Zenaria realized she was caught. Filled with rage, she could do nothing as Baugh once again approached his captives.

"You have us," she panting, sweat stinging her eyes. "But I will not submit. You will have to take us by force."

"I intend to do no such thing." Baugh answered calmly. "The choice I offered still remains. One of you may leave and the other must stay."

"Why would we agree to such an offer?" Sulia asked. "Do you think we would willingly betray the other in order to earn our freedom?"

"Nevertheless that is my offer. Choose now or remain prisoners forever."

Both women struggled once more against the entangling vines, but they were held fast. Zenaria could not move her arms and the vines were wrapped so tightly about her that she was having trouble breathing. Sulia was in no better shape and finally gave up, realizing that there was no escape.

"Forever?" Zenaria echoed.

"You will be guarded day and night. There will be no escape until one of you agrees."

Zenaria stopped struggling. She was just exhausting herself to no purpose. It was obvious that with his command of the apes and the power of his magic Baugh could hold them for as long as he chose. She and Sulia faced not one jailer, but hundreds. Resignedly she faced the inevitable. "If I give myself to you will let my companion go?"

"No," Sulia cried. "Do not do this. I forbid you to sacrifice yourself for me."

Zenaria spoke quickly before Sulia could volunteer herself. "I will stay, but you must promise to help the princess return to her people."

Baugh answered over Sulia's cries of outrage. "It will be done."

"No," Sulia screamed again. "I will stay too."

"The choice has been made," Baugh replied. "You will go and your companion will stay."

Sulia continued to protest, but Baugh was adamant. He ordered the baboons forward to take Zenaria's sword and Sulia's mace.

"Your weapon will be returned when you leave," Baugh said to Sulia. Already the vines holding the Urulana princess were loosening, but surrounded by dozens of baboons and with the hulking presence of Saugh, she made no effort to resist.

"I wish the princess to be escorted until she is free of here and safe," Zenaria insisted. "Carry out your promise and I will do as you wish."

"I will return," Sulia promised. "I will return and avenge this humiliation."

Baugh seemed unconcerned by the threat. His ugly face creased in what Zenaria supposed was his version of a smile at her promise of cooperation. With a wave of his arm he released her from her viney prison.

"She must have food and weapons," Zenaria insisted, "And a proper escort to see her rejoined to her companions."

"I need no help from a bunch of baboons," Sulia growled.

"Nonetheless, they will go with you," Baugh stated. A solid wall of baboons moved toward Sulia, presenting as much a threat as a promise to protect her.

"Go, Sulia," Zenaria said. "I will be alright."

The expression on Sulia's face indicated that she held not the slightest faith in Zenaria's assertion. Slowly she turned away and then suddenly turned back. "I will return," she promised. "I will return and make this ape-master regret his actions."

Zenaria nodded her acceptance, knowing that Sulia would not be deterred in her actions no matter what she said. Then, her face still clouded with anger Sulia turned and stalked off, accompanied by her baboon escort.

That left just Baugh and Zenaria. The shaman met her eyes and gave his version of a smile. "Do not worry, princess. I gave my word and will not go back on it. The Princess Sulia will be delivered safely to her companions whether she desires an escort or not. And now it is for you to complete your part of the agreement."

Zenaria took a deep breath. She suspected that the next few hours were going to be the longest of her life.

Chapter 7: The Curse

"There will be no mating unless certain conditions are met," Zenaria stated. Sulia had been gone for several hundred heartbeats and she doubted that Baugh would go back on his word.

"Conditions?" Baugh asked. "You said nothing about conditions."

"I want a proper bath." She pointed to the small pool in the centre of Baugh's refuge. "That is not suitable to my needs. And I want you cleaned as well. I will not lie with someone who smells like a baboon."

Baugh's face clouded in anger, and he bared his teeth. "You break your word. It is not too late to bring back your companion."

"I do no such thing. I gave my word to stay as your mate, but nothing more. I will go to your bed clean or not at all."

Baugh's snarl slowly faded. "It shall be as you say. There is a small pool farther back in the rocks. We will both bathe and then will enjoy our mating feast. It will make the mating that much more enjoyable."

"There is one more thing," Zenaria said. "I wish a proper mating bed, not some flea infested pile of straw."

Baugh shook his head. "You make too many demands. You seek merely to delay our mating."

"I gave my word and I will keep it," Zenaria returned, heatedly, "but you should not expect me to adopt the standards of some animal simply because it is your way."

Baugh let out a very animal-like growl. "You are much trouble," Baugh growled. "I should have taken the other female."

"You should have thought of that before you forced me into this agreement. Now show me your bathing pool."

As Baugh had promised the pool was not far off. He led her through the labyrinthine maze of rocks until they reached an open area in the centre of which was a small pool. It was not nearly as large as the pool in the idyllic spot where she and Varden had met Sulia, but it was deep and clear and so far as Zenaria could tell, free from vermin.

She splashed into the pool, the cool water washing away the sweat grime, and dried blood from her adventures. Baugh stood and watched her. Beside him Saugh squatted on his haunches and searched for nits. Zenaria had a sudden urge to splash water on the gorilla, but decided it might not be the best idea. Instead she focused on scrubbing her skin clean, using a bit of fine clean sand at the edge of the pool.

Baugh watched her rather dubiously and then began to strip off his beads and ornaments, finishing with his rather soiled loincloth. From her position in the pool Zenaria stared appraisingly at what was revealed. For such an unimposing figure he was generously proportioned in the reproductive area. However, nude he seemed more ape-like than ever. "What have I gotten myself into?" she wondered. The entire situation was not to her liking, but she had only herself to blame. In seeking to save Sulia she had pledged herself to a humiliating fate, but one that her sense of honour would not allow her to escape.

Frowning, she watched as Baugh eased himself into the pool, producing an immediate circle of grime on its placid surface. Imitating her, he splashed water over himself, even going so far as to duck his head beneath the surface. However, she noted that he kept to the shallow part of the pool and guessed that he probably could not swim. Even so, she was pleased to note that he made an effort to scrub himself clean even as she tried to think of a way out of her bargain.

Unconsciously Zenaria delayed her emergence from the pool until she noticed Baugh watching her from the pool's edge. Her skin beginning to wrinkle, she tried not to think of what awaited her as she stepped from the water and let the sun dry her. From somewhere the ape-man had acquired a clean loincloth and he was also holding something else.

"I have been saving this for this day," he said, holding it so that it draped down either side of his hands.

Zenaria's eyes widened. There was no mistaking what he was holding. She had never seen so fine a pelt. But even more remarkable was the fact that it was a leopard skin. "This is quite magnificent," she said. Strangely, she found herself tongue-tied and a bit embarrassed that she did not have a gift in return.

Baugh's merely grunted. He waited, shifting his weight from side to side while she arranged the fine garment. It was softer than anything she had ever worn and she took her time adjusting it. Not normally one to be worried about her attire provided it protected her in battle or prevented her from getting sunburned; this time she carefully arranged the pelt, draping it about her hips so that it left one long and very alluring leg bare to the thigh while it hung to her knee on the other side.

It left her torso bare, but Baugh also presented her with a necklace of ebony and ivory, and two gold armbands that fit just above her elbows. The final gift was an anklet of tiny gold bells, similar to those worn by Baugh himself.

Zenaria marvelled at the ebony and ivory necklace. Strung on a length of fine sinew it was composed of about four dozen pieces, each carved in exquisite detail and depicting one of the many animals that frequented the landscape of this strange land.

Baugh noticed her fascination with it and nodded. "A trifle I worked on to pass the time. Now it is yours provided you carry out your part of the bargain."

Zenaria adjusted the necklace about her neck. The largest of the ivory carvings, that of a lion, hung between her breasts. Strangely she felt a blush stealing over her as Baugh's gaze was drawn to her. Her sudden uncharacteristic attack of self-consciousness, however, quickly passed. There was no change in her attitude toward the ape-master in spite of the gifts. And his last comment raised her hackles.

"I am a warrior of the Snow Leopard and I gave my word," she bristled. "I will not break it." Baugh's bad-tempered demeanour did nothing to endear her to him. Even had he not been the ugliest creature she had ever seen she doubted that she could have liked him.

As she finished arranging the last of Baugh's gifts, Baugh motioned that she should follow him. "Come, the mating feast awaits."

As the tropical night descended Baugh led her back to his tiny cave, and she found that in her absence a feast of sorts had been prepared. As before there was a large variety of fruit and nuts and along with a few special delicacies.

"What are these?" Zenaria asked indicating a small pile of yellowish-white organisms piled on a large leaf. All of them were still moving.

"Larvae of the palm borer," Baugh answered, taking one and popping it into his mouth. Very tasty both raw and cooked. I prefer them fresh." He picked up another and presented it to Zenaria. "Try one."

Zenaria couldn't help noticing the juice running through his teeth, but bravely accepted his offering. She had eaten many different and unusual foods in the last two years, but had never eaten anything that was still alive; at least not on purpose. However, she followed Baugh's example and bit down on the wriggling creature, allowing the insides to spurt over her tongue.

It was not as bad as she feared, in fact had she been starving she would have found it quite tasty. However, she quickly picked up a large ripe fruit and bit into it allowing the sweet pulp to wash away the taste of the grub. Baugh shrugged, his lip curling in a sneer and then he picked up a handful, popping them into his mouth with obvious relish.

As Zenaria got rid of the taste in her mouth Baugh placed a crude cup made from the husk of a coconut in front of her. "Here," he grinned. "Try this. It makes everything go down better." He lifted what appeared to be a waterskin and poured a dark brown liquid into it.

Tentatively she picked it up and held it to her nose. The smell almost put her under, inducing an immediate coughing spell. "Wha…what is this?" she gasped, setting the cup down.

"It is called shugo. Distilled from the root of the kaba tree." He picked up the cup and tossed it back, grinning as he wiped his mouth of the back of his hand. "Try it." He refilled the cup and handed it back.

Zenaria raised the cup. This time she did not make the mistake of smelling it. Raising it to her lips she swallowed.

It was like swallowing fire. Tears came to her eyes and her nose filled with mucus. The shugo burned all the way down, hitting her stomach like a bucket of hot coals. "Oohh!" she gasped. "That's good!"

She held out the cup for more and downed it in a single gulp, relishing the fiery glow that spread through her body. "Rahlu's water," Baugh said, baring his teeth in what was probably supposed to be a grin.

Zenaria found herself grinning back and helped herself to a handful of small brown nuts. It wasn't good to drink on an empty stomach and she found that the day's activities had helped her work up quite an appetite. She was also mindful of the fact that once the meal was over she would have to follow through on her promise. It was now almost dark and the only light was from a small fire that had been kindled in front of Baugh's cave. However, there was a full skin of shugo and she intended to drink as much of it as she could, to delay the inevitable if nothing else.

Several thousand heartbeats later Zenaria shook the skin in disappointment. "Nuffing left," she slurred. "Gotny more?"

Baugh burped loudly "I wouldn't want you to pass out. You have a pact to honour tonight."

"Yessh," Zenaria replied leaning across the rock that served as a table. "A pact." For the strangest reason Baugh suddenly seemed much more attractive although logic told her that he hadn't changed at all from when she had first met him. But somehow she wasn't very inclined to be very logical at the moment.

"Come," Baugh said, stretching out his hand and getting to his feet. "It is time to go to the mating bed."

Zenaria got to her feet, swaying slightly, but not at all afraid or repulsed. A familiar and powerful warmth spread through her loins and she followed Baugh willingly as he guided her to his small cave. The light of the fire had now burned so low that only a few glowing coals remained and she clung to Baugh's hand as he guided her to his simple sleeping pallet.

"Now, princess, we complete our bargain," Baugh said as he pulled her down. In the darkness she could only just make out the outline of his body, but she could feel his hands upon her as he pulled her toward him.

His hands touched her shoulders and then moved to the heavy ivory and ebony necklace. Gently he lifted it over her head and set it on the floor of the cave. Then he removed the leopard skin skirt he had given her. His hands were gentle on her body, surprisingly so considering his uncouth appearance. His hands cupped her heavy breasts, his thumbs circling the nipples.

Zenaria moaned as her nipples hardened. Her loins ached, the tender centre of her body throbbing with anticipation. She touched his powerful shoulders, running her hands down his muscular arms as he leaned toward her and licked her left nipple, teasing the ripening bud. Her hands went lower and found the ties to his loincloth. Her nimble fingers worked them loose. Her head abuzz, Zenaria was seized with an ever growing feeling of desire. Her hands found his thickening male organ and her breath quickened in excitement and expectation. She pushed him back, shifting her body so that he could continue to pleasure her breasts while she positioned herself over him. She was already incredibly wet and she dipped her first two fingers inside her, bringing them out to touch the tip of Baugh's swollen cock.

The thick member throbbed with readiness as she lubricated it, dipping inside herself a second time and then raising her body a little higher as she guided herself onto his pulsing staff. Baugh moaned and gripped her backside, pulling her into him as he penetrated her. But Zenaria maintained control, lowering herself onto him and then pulling back, each time easing herself a little further onto his rigid member.

With a sudden and powerful movement of his body, Baugh thrust up, timing his action with Zenaria's downward motion. She cried out in surprise and pain as he tore into her. She pushed her hands against his deep chest and arched backward, attempting to escape the sudden pain. But he held her tight and thrust again, driving deep within her. She cried out again and then let him take her as a wave of pleasure swept over her. Caught between pleasure and pain, Zenaria groaned as Baugh held her and drove upward again and again. As her cries of passion increased, he rolled her over, pinned her arms over her head and ploughed her furrow until she screamed in release. Baugh grunted as he too reached climax and then rolled to one side breathing heavily.

It was about as hard and crude a mating as she had ever experienced, but there was something else about it she could not quite define. At the height of her desire she had experienced a strange tingling. Caught up in her own passion, she had barely noticed it, but now it came back to her. She remembered that sensation from before when she and Varden had encountered the powerful sorcerers of Jingua; it was the tingle of magic, and although she knew that Baugh was obviously a powerful shaman, she wondered what it had to do with their mating.

Beside her Baugh was breathing hard. She could feel the heat of his body as he lay beside her, but he made no effort to move closer to her; instead his breathing slowed as he drifted toward sleep. The effects of the shugo still had her head spinning as she was suddenly exhausted. Perhaps it was the combination of the drink, the mating, and the ordeal of the last few days, but she could not keep her eyes open. Falling back she let sleep take her.

Someone was driving a spike between her eyes. Biting back a moan of pain she forced her eyes open and pushed herself into a sitting position. It was still dark in the cave, but there was no doubt about where Baugh was. She could hear his heavy snoring just a yard away. For a heartbeat she considered strangling him but decided that would require too much effort and would certainly be a blot upon her honour. Instead she got to her feet, and stepping carefully to avoid Baugh, exited the cave.

Outside dawn was just beginning to edge over the top of the cliffs that sheltered Baugh's hideaway. She found her way to the small pool and splashed water over her face, head, and shoulders until the painful throbbing in her head diminished a little. She shivered a little as the water dried on her skin, but she felt a little better. She could do nothing about the soreness between her legs, but she washed away the sweat and stickiness that covered her body.

She considered what had happened to her. She could only account for her behaviour by assuming that she had been ensorcelled or drugged. True, she had promised to mate with Baugh in order to save Sulia, but the mating had been a little bit more than she expected. To describe her response as enthusiastic would have been an understatement and she was more than a little chagrined.

"That's the last time," she muttered. "I've kept my promise, and Sulia should be safe enough provided Baugh has kept his."

There was a problem behind that thought. It was entirely possible that Sulia was not safe. She only had Baugh's word that she was, and the ape master did not strike her as a man who could be trusted. The question was would he let her go? Just a few yards away Saugh was munching on the last of the mating feast. The huge gorilla would be a formidable opponent even if she could find a way to overcome Baugh's magic. And then there were the hordes of baboons.

A movement at the edge of the cave brought her little reverie to an end. She could no longer hear Baugh's snoring and guessed that he must have awakened. She turned toward him and stared in disbelief.

"What…who are you?" she stammered.

The man who stood before her was definitely not Baugh, but he wore the new white loincloth she had insisted he put on as well as the shaman's body ornaments and carried his staff. However, the clothing and possessions were the only similarity. This man stood almost as tall as Zenaria and had the same dark skin and patrician features that characterised Sulia. There was no mistaking that he was Urulanan or at the very least a tribe closely related to them.

The man grinned. "You know me as Baugh, the ape master, but I was once known as Qirlan, Rahlu's servant."

Zenaria continued to stare, quite perplexed and Qirlan laughed again. "I see you do not understand. That is not surprising. I will explain while we eat." He motioned to the rock that Baugh used as a dining table.

Zenaria had not been at all favourably disposed toward Baugh, not after what he had forced her into, but there was something about Qirlan she found extremely irritating. The man radiated arrogance and insincerity. And his comment about being both Baugh and Qirlan made her skin prickle. She was getting very fed up with her life being controlled by sorcerers, a point she made clear by her reply.

"I will dress first," Zenaria replied. "Then we will talk."

She strode to the cave and found her leopard skin skirt and the ornaments Baugh had given her. She carefully arranged them, and picking up her sword, which she found in a corner of the cave, she retuned to the outside. She was carrying the long blade in her hand and Qirlan frowned as he saw it.

"That will do you no good against me. Now that I am restored I am even more powerful than Baugh."

"It was my father's blade," Zenaria replied, her tone matching his. "It goes where I go. Give me the materials to make a sheath and harness and I will wear it properly."

Qirlan shrugged at her reply, seemingly unconcerned; not surprising for a shaman of his power. He sat down across from her and waited for the proposed meal to arrive.

As before the baboons brought food, scampering down the steep vine-covered walls, each carrying some small morsel. However, there were so many of them that the stone table was soon well stocked. Once again it was primarily fruit and nuts, along with some tubers and a number of insects. By this time Zenaria was longing for meat and wishing the baboons were more into hunting rather than gathering. However, she decided to make the best of it and sat across from Qirlan.

As he had promised Qirlan told his story as they ate. "Many years ago I was a young man, studying the arts of nature and the universe. I progressed rapidly and promised to become the most powerful shaman the Urulana had ever produced. As you have cause to know I was able to establish a strong communion with the elements of nature. Unfortunately, I was overcome by a weakness common to many young men. I became enamoured of the most beautiful woman of the tribe, Latania, the Queen to be, the First Princess of the Urulana. The problem was that I was only a lowly novice shaman and not worthy of her notice; much less taking her to my bed, but I devised a plan; one that I suspect you can guess."

"You gave her shugo," Zenaria said accusingly.

"I see I was not wrong in supposing you to be an intelligent woman," Qirlan replied as he took another handful of nuts. He seemed completely unabashed by his confession. In fact he seemed almost proud of it.

Zenaria decided to say nothing about what Sulia had told her, hoping that Qirlan's story would give her more detail so she waited until he continued.

"It was still no easy task. Somehow I had to get the princess alone and somewhere private. Since she rarely went anywhere without her Companion Guard that was not easy. But my desire for her was so strong that I was willing to take almost any chance."

"Companion Guard?" Zenaria asked.

"A number of young men and women close in age to the princess and selected both for their companionship and outstanding physical and mental qualities. They are pledged to accompany her and protect her virtue at any cost."

"Hmm," Zenaria grunted. That certainly described the young men and women who had been with Sulia when they met. It had not occurred to her to inquire as to the nature of Sulia's relationship with her fellow warriors, but now that Qirlan had described them it all made a little more sense.

"It was not easy to separate Latania from her companions, but I devised a plan. As a shaman I frequently accompanied expeditions into the wild to observe animal behaviour and collect rare and interesting plants. It was easy for me to obtain permission to accompany the princess and her companions on one of their hunting trips. What was not so easy was to get her alone, but I finally devised a way."

"I noted that it was her custom to patrol the camp each night and make sure that the boma was secure as well speak to those posted as guards. It was an easy matter for me to take my turn as one of those guards and then let her come to me."

Zenaria had to consciously control the urge to curl her lip at Qirlan's confession. His manner was so boastful and arrogant that she could barely contain herself, but she remembered that she was completely in his power and anything she learned about him might be used to her advantage. If what he was telling her was any guideline he doubted that he would let her go. Even worse, she now doubted that he had released Sulia. Most likely his baboon minions were holding her prisoner somewhere nearby for when he tired of seducing just one woman.

"It was quite dark in the area that I had chosen as my post, and as expected the princess came to speak to me just before retiring for the night. I had several plans in mind for achieving my goal, the most extreme amounting to force, but it did not come to that. Instead the princess fell completely into my trap. As she spoke to me before retiring I offered her a drink from my waterskin. What I did not tell her was that the water had been liberally mixed with shugo. It took only a single swallow and she was caught. It took little persuasion from me to convince her to move apart the section of the boma in front of us and retire with me to a refuge I had selected earlier in the day. There Latania and I finished the rest of the shugo and I think you know what happened after that.

"You drugged and then ravished your princess," Zenaria responded. "How very noble."

"Actually I did not ravish her," Qirlan laughed. "She was most willing."

"Just as I was most willing," Zenaria remarked. Inside she was burning with rage, but she held herself in check, well aware that any attack on this smirking thug would need to catch him completely off-guard, and in spite of Qirlan's seemingly relaxed manner she noted that he never took his eyes off her.

"Precisely," Qirlan agreed, ignoring her jibe. "Unfortunately I had not thought through the consequences of my actions. I had deflowered an Urulana princess, but I had not thought what to do after my lust was satisfied. Latania awoke in my arms and immediately understood what had happened. I can tell you that she was far from happy. She immediately called for her companions and they came at a run. As I mentioned, I was a promising young shaman, but I was far from as powerful as I am now. I was overpowered, and bound strongly with rope and marched back to my village."

Qirlan continued, his deep brown eyes fixed on Zenaria: his mocking smile seemingly daring her to try to escape. "As you might imagine the Urulanan queen, Latania's mother, was far from pleased. The first in line to succeed her had been dishonoured and could no longer be queen. I expected to be put to death in the most painful manner, and in fact there was much debate as to what would be the most painful way to put me to death. But it was my old master, the Urulana shaman who devised the cruellest punishment. It was decided to lay a curse upon me that would amount to a living death.

No doubt my teacher's anger at betraying the trust of my people inspired him. After the queen had satisfied her anger by having me flogged until I was crippled he then laid a great curse upon me. He turned me into the creature I was when you first saw me. Part man, part ape, cursed with the name of Baugh and condemned to live forever in the shape of an ape. But even worse he added a special twist to the spell, holding out hope that I might be relieved of the curse. It was the cruellest thing he could have done, because the in order to lift the curse I had to convince a maiden of royal blood to voluntarily come to my bed. For over three hundred years I waited, but I could not go in search of a princess; the curse bound me to this rocky haven the territory of the baboons, and here I was forced to wait. But I was not idle. I had three centuries to perfect my powers and each year I learned more until I became very powerful. I am now the most powerful shaman who has ever lived and thanks to you I now live again, free from the hideous guise I was forced to assume."

A chill ran down Zenaria's spine, but it was burned away by her barely suppressed anger. "And now that the curse has been lifted?" she asked through clenched teeth.

"Now my warrior princess you and I will return to the Urulana and repay them for my three centuries of torment."

"Repay them? The queen and shaman who punished you are long dead. You are barely remembered and considered a child's tale."

"They will find out that I am not," Qirlan said, his mocking voice rising in anger. "I will return and they will become my slaves, forced to serve me even as the baboons and other apes do. I will take the Urulanan princess and ravish her in front of the entire tribe. Then I will do the same with their queen and other nubile young women until I have satisfied my lust and anger. Any who resist will be killed."

The reference to the Urulanan princess confirmed Zenaria's suspicions. "What have you done with Sulia?" Zenaria asked. "I know that you have not kept your word."

Qirlan grunted. "Of course I have the princess. She will be most useful as a hostage and it will be so enjoyable when I shove my cock into her backside while the elders of her tribe watch."

"You are filth," Zenaria growled, tightening her grip on her sword. "You possess great powers and use them to cause harm. The gods will curse you."

"They already have," Qirlan sneered. "And you will pay for that remark. Now put down your sword or I promise that you will never see Princess Sulia again."

The baboons around her crowded closer as the shaman finished speaking and the vines covering the walls rustled ominously, but it was the threat to Sulia that made Zenaria surrender her blade. With a look of contempt she threw it into the dust.

Qirlan gestured and grunted in the barking language of the baboons. Several of the animals surged forward and clutched at Zenaria. She caught one by the scruff of its neck and threw it across the compound, bouncing it off the cliff wall. Immediately several more attacked her, but she slammed her fist into one as it leaped for her throat, caught another by its throat and used it as a weapon to bludgeon another, and kicked another out of the air. The remaining baboons halted their attacked and circled her, growling, their fangs bared.

"Enough," Qirlan shouted. "You will hold still and let my minions bind you or I will punish the princess."

Zenaria turned toward Qirlan, holding her anger in check with difficulty, but she did as he said and stood waiting while the baboons moved toward her, several of them carrying ropes. Five quick steps and she could reach the shaman, but she suspected she would never make it. A coward like Qirlan would never expose himself to any real danger. Meekly she waited while the baboons pulled her arms behind her back and bound her wrists and arms tightly.

The baboons proved surprisingly adept at tying knots. They tied her wrists and then bound her arms just above the elbows, pulling it tight across the elbows and crisscrossing across her breasts. They finished by tying a short tether between her ankles.

"An excellent job," Qirlan commented. "Who would have thought they could be so talented?" He stepped forward and picked up her sword. "We have wasted enough time. Today we march on the Urulana. In three days they will have a new ruler and for the first time it will not be a queen."

With baboons escorting her front and rear Zenaria followed Qirlan out through the winding maze of boulders. She was seething with anger, but fought to remain calm. She cursed herself for having allowed Qirlan to have his way with her for nothing. Had she not been so noble the shaman would still be trapped in the body of an ape. Something was very wrong with her cha that she was constantly being punished for her actions. But she knew that she and Varden had killed a great many innocent men by mistake and still had a number of lives to account for. Almost certainly before things got better they were going to get worse.

Sulia was waiting in a side canyon halfway out of the maze. Like Zenaria she was trussed up and guarded by a phalanx of baboons. "Two princesses," Qirlan smirked. "Both of whom offered themselves to me. Who would have thought it possible after three hundred years of waiting?"

He barked a command to the baboons and then turned back to the two warriors. "Follow me, and try to keep up. If you lag I will have you dragged."

As it turned out keeping up with the baboons wasn't too difficult even hobbled and with their arms and wrists bound, but Zenaria found it incredibly humiliating, the trek bringing back memories of other times she had been enslaved, particularly the first time when she had been taken to the slave markets of Sandakar and exhibited like some prize animal. However, the baboons did not walk in a straight line. There were hundreds of them and they foraged as they moved, stopping frequently to dine on grubs, insects, and various plants.

Qirlan moved at their speed, a pace that Zenaria and Sulia could match in spite of their bonds. Unlike the baboons, however, they could not forage and as neither of them had had anything to eat they were soon very hungry. Zenaria had drunk at the tiny spring, but she guessed that Sulia had not, however, the Urulana princess did not complain, but slogged steadily on, her eyes filled with hate and fear as she stared at Qirlan.

Fortunately, Qirlan wanted both of his captives in good health and he stopped at halfway through the morning to feed and water his captives. He made no effort to untie them and even accompanied them when they moved off the trail to relieve themselves. For Zenaria it was an all too familiar experience, but she still found it mortifying and expected that Sulia was similarly humiliated.

Once again they were headed toward the Mountain of Fire and the way was mostly uphill. The huge mountain no longer spat fire into the air and the earth no longer shook, but there was an ominous black cloud hanging over the mountain. It was not a good omen and Zenaria wondered what was going to happen when Qirlan and his ape army arrived at Sulia's village. She knew that a warrior people like the Urulana would almost certainly resist and that would mean a nasty battle. Whatever the situation Qirlan seemed incredibly confident and enjoyed telling them of what he was going to do once he had overcome any resistance. He especially enjoyed describing what he was going to do to Sulia.

"After I have publicly humiliated the queen it will be your turn. I think I will take you up your backside the first time and then relieve you of your virginity. After that I will have the white warrior take me into her mouth as a further demonstration of my power."

Zenaria was horrified and disgusted by his comments, but even worse, she was certain that Qirlan was going to be able to carry them out. She had no idea how big Sulia's village was or how formidable its fortifications, but she doubted that it would be able to withstand Qirlan's ape army. Baboons by the hundreds accompanied them and as they progressed they were joined by more and more of the huge gorillas until there were at least a score of the huge beasts. The entire army moved slowly, but Qirlan seemed in no hurry. He had said it would take three days to reach the Urulana village and even though progress was erratic they moved closer to their destination with every step.

They stop at midday and again at mid-afternoon. At the second stop Zenaria was able to get close enough to Sulia to ask how far they were from her village.

"Just a day's walk," Sulia answered, "But we are moving so slowly it will probably be more like three or four days."

Three or four days. It was a long time to be trussed up. Already the ropes were cutting into Zenaria's wrists and her hands were beginning to swell. She would be almost crippled by the time they reached their destination and not in much condition to fight. And that was assuming Qirlan let his guard down long enough to let her get loose. Somehow she had to find a way to get Qirlan to untie them.

The chance came in late afternoon. Qirlan had called a halt, the final one for the day. While he supervised the setting up of the camp Zenaria waited for him to approach her. In spite of their seeming lack of discipline the apes were very well organized. While a few foraged for food the others dragged sections of thornbush into position and created a boma large enough to shelter the entire expedition. It seemed as long as the shaman supervised them they knew what to do and Zenaria wondered exactly how Qirlan communicated with his subjects. She guessed that it was something like the way she could communicate with leopards and other large cats. Whatever it was, it was certainly effective.

Finally, as the camp neared its completion, Qirlan strode over to them a strange smirk on his arrogant features. "Are you going to untie us?" Zenaria asked, before he could speak. "If you don't Sulia and I will be too crippled to be much of a prize."

"You have a point," the shaman answered. "A very good point. I want you humiliated, but not so broken that you are of no value. I will see that you are untied, but first there is something you and the princess are going to do for me."

As he finished speaking, he untied his loincloth revealing a penis well on the way to a full erection. Zenaria clenched her teeth. "And if we do not?" she asked.

Qirlan smiled cruelly. "Let me show you something." He looked out beyond the boma and made a strange braying noise. There was silence and then the sound of hooves and a short time later one of the strange striped horses that Sulia had called zebras galloped into view. At Qirlan's command an opening was made in the circle of thorns and the zebra stepped through.

The animal was a stallion and obviously in a state of arousal. Zenaria looked at its huge sexual organ and shuddered, guessing what the shaman had in mind. Qirlan's grin widened and he laughed. "You see that I can command more than just apes. When the Urulana are attacked they will be set upon by almost every sort of animal. They will stand no chance. However, that was not why I summoned the zebra."

Zenaria's eyes were fixed on the stallion, which was pawing the ground and rolling its eyes wildly. She tried not to think about a certain other part of its anatomy, but Qirlan was not fooled. "I had intended to wait until my conquest of the Urulana is complete before deflowering the princess, but it is not critical that I do so. I will have it done now, to both of you if you do not do as I command.

Zenaria's eyes blazed and her magnificent chest heaved. She doubted that she had ever hated anyone as much as she hated Qirlan, but she knew she was beaten. "I will do it," she said, "but you must spare Sulia."

"You will both do it. If either of you refuses then the stallion shall have both of you."

Zenaria swallowed and Qirlan laughed again. He knew he had her. Fighting back tears of rage she went to her knees.

Chapter 8: Humiliation and Retribution

The forced fellatio was the hardest thing Zenaria had ever done. She thought briefly of using her strong white teeth to do something else to Qirlan's member, but dismissed it at a comment from the shaman. "I know what you're thinking, white-skin. But you try anything stupid and you can watch while the princess is mated to the stallion and then she can watch while the same thing is done to you. I can heal any wound you inflict, but I doubt you have the same ability. Now open that sweet mouth."

It was a disgusting and humiliating ordeal as Qirlan stepped forward and shoved his thick member between her lips. She felt lower than the lowest slave as he gripped her hair and shoved himself into her with a moan of pleasure. Unconsciously she tensed her muscles against the bonds binding her wrists and arms, but there was not the slightest give. Qirlan worked his member back and forth pushing it to the back of her throat and choking off her breathing. She almost gagged, but fought back the reflex while she fought for breath.

She could not see Sulia, but hoped that the princess was not watching her degradation. Desperately she tried to think of something else, but Quirlan's grunts of pleasure as his phallus invaded her mouth and throat, and the smell of his sweat and semen made that almost impossible. She could take comfort only in the fact that what she was doing was saving Sulia from a much more brutal fate. But even that solace was taken away from her a few heartbeats later.

Qirlan removed his dripping phallus from her mouth and turned to Sulia. "That was a good start," he grinned. "Now you finish me off."

Zenaria watched in disgust and anger as Qirlan used Sulia to repeat his performance. She did not protest, but turned her face away as the shaman humiliated her companion. Sadly, she could not shut out the sounds of Sulia's degradation. The Urulana princess gasped as she fought for breath and grunted as Qirlan probed her mouth. Added to that were the bestial sounds of the shaman as he enjoyed his prize. It seemed like a small lifetime before he groaned and emptied his seed into his victim.

"That was enjoyable," Qirlan gloated. "We will do it again tomorrow. You will soon learn your place in my new order."

Neither woman replied, but both silently vowed vengeance as Qirlan kept his promise to untie them. However, in spite of being released there was no hope of exacting retribution. Qirlan had them sealed off from the main camp in by a thorn barrier, the outside of which was heavily patrolled by baboons. Seething with anger, neither woman could force down the simple food they were given.

Zenaria spat out her water, an act Sulia emulated as they sought to wash the taste of their defilement from their mouths. But the taste of Qirlan's fluids was not easily washed away and remained buried in their minds if nothing else. More than ever, Zenaria wished she had used her teeth when she had the chance, but knew that she was firmly in the grip of the shaman. She could do nothing that would risk harm to Sulia. Qirlan could take her whenever he wished.

The night passed. Somehow both women managed to sleep. Curled up on the ground they shared one another's body heat and blessed the fact that the nights were not too cold. The next morning they awoke and accepted the food and water they were given. Still burning with anger they forced the food down, knowing that Qirlan might decide that depriving them of food and water for the remainder of the day might serve as another way of impressing his superiority upon them.

Fortunately, as before the march was a leisurely one, and in spite of the fact that they were both bound once more neither woman had any difficulty keeping up.

\

Zenaria's biggest problem was the sun. Although by now she was heavily tanned, she did not have the natural protection that Sulia and Qirlan had and she could feel her skin burning as the day wore on. By the time they stopped for the night parts of her body were bright red.

Qirlan noted her condition in surprise, running his hands over her blistered shoulders. Zenaria bit back a scream and the shaman laughed. "It appears you require more care than an Urulanan warrior. I can't have you burning up on me. You and the princess will be the jewels in my collection." He unrolled his medical kit and mixed up a salve. "This is normally used on small children who have not yet developed resistance to the sun," he explained. "It should work for you."

The salve seemed to help, although the pain of the burns was still intense. It did not stop Qirlan from carrying out his promise, however. Once again he forced both women to serve him orally, although this time he took Sulia first, forcing Zenaria to swallow his load of semen. And then he went one step further.

Her wrists and arms still bound, Zenaria was helpless as he forced her mouth open and held the waterskin containing the shugo to her lips. She tried to twist her head away, but he grabbed her long hair and tilting her head back forced her mouth open through sheer strength. Bruising her lips he shoved the waterskin into her mouth and upended it.

The fiery sensation of shugo filled her mouth and sinuses. She tried to spit it out, but Qirlan held her mouth shut, forcing her to swallow. Then he raised the waterskin once more and forced her to swallow twice more. Zenaria's head swam as the powerful aphrodisiac burned its way down her throat, spreading throughout her body and filling her loins with an overwhelming sexual desire.

"The Moon and Sun curse you," she gasped, as sweat streamed down her body. She was helpless as Qirlan lifted her leopard-skin skirt, pushed her back against a large boulder, and spread her legs. She struggled weakly to close her legs, but Qirlan easily pried them apart. Incredibly he had already recovered his erection and he thrust hard into her, penetrating her slick and willing pleasure thicket.

Zenaria cried out, both at the savagery of the thrust and the intense waves of pleasure that spread through her. She arched upward, offering herself to him even though the act shamed her. Overcome by the power of the aphrodisiac she gave herself over to carnal desire, quivering in eagerness and crying out again and again as Qirlan thrust into her. As the shaman finished with her she was still moaning from a series of powerful orgasms that left her physically and emotionally depleted.

She could not look at Sulia. But Qirlan did it for her. "Tomorrow, princess," he gloated, "you will be wiggling your backside under me while the whole of your tribe watches."

Sulia's dark skin was incapable of showing pallor, but her quick breathing and the slight trembling of her body showed her fear. "You will never succeed," she said. "I will die before I submit to you."

"Your white-skinned companion will die first. But not before I am through with her. And that will take a very long time."

Sulia held her head high, but she could not hide the tears of rage and frustration that glinted in her dark eyes. "You are almost broken already," Qirlan sneered. "I will soon have the princess of the Urulana grovelling at my feet."

Neither woman replied. Shamed and demoralized, their fate seemed inescapable. Too angry to eat or sleep, and consumed by hatred for their captor, they waited for morning.

Dawn came eventually, and with it the conclusion of the march to the Urulana village. The last part of the march was through a heavily forested area and steadily uphill. The Mountain of Fire took up the entire horizon and although it was quiescent, lightning strikes flickered through a dark cloud that hung above it.

Qirlan's baboon army had now grown. Thousands of baboons swarmed over the landscape, accompanied by several of the giant animals similar to the one that had hurled Zenaria into the thorn bush. She now knew that they were called rhinos and they were accompanied by an even larger number of the huge tusked beasts called elephants. Zenaria realized that brave as the Urulana were it would be impossible for them to withstand the might of Qirlan's forces.

By noon the meandering army crested a steep hill and emerged from the forest. Before them stretched an open area of cultivated fields and large herds of cattle. Above the fields was the Urulanan capital of Luruana.

It was not at all what Zenaria had expected. She had pictured a village something like hers with a crude wooden palisade surrounding strongly built wooden buildings. What she saw instead was a fortress of stone. Three concentric circles of stone walls surrounded a complex of wood and stone buildings. Each wall was built of black stone and higher than the first. There were no towers as she had seen in the Sandakar city but the walls would be a formidable barrier against the sort of lightly armed warriors she had encountered in this strange land.

However, against Qirlan's bizarre army she doubted that the defenders would have much of a chance. Walls were no defence against creatures that could scamper up walls the or use their huge bulk to smash through wooden gates. She could visualize the attack; the baboons swarming up the walls, the elephants and rhinos crashing through the gates; and the hordes of hyenas and jackals following the huge grey beasts into the walled city. And then there were the massive gorillas and other large apes as well as several formidable members of the cat family. This was not an army that even a people as brave as the Urulana could hope to defeat.

Qirlan stood with one hand on his hip and the other on his staff, his legs spread slightly. He looked every inch a conqueror, his face showing clear contempt for the Urulana who had taken refuge in their fortress city. "I will destroy them utterly," he said. "They will all bow before me and watch as I violate their queen and princess. I will exact just vengeance for the way they treated me."

"How can you say that?" Zenaria asked. "None of these people were born when you were punished for your crimes. To them you are just a legend."

"They will see that I am real enough when I enslave their children and force the young women to become my concubines."

Zenaria's keen eyes could see hundreds of figures lining the walls of the fortress city, but she doubted that they would have any chance of defending for long against Qirlan's animal horde. She watched grimly as the attack began.

It started with the baboons and other apes. They swarmed toward the walls, so many of them that they looked like ants as they swept over the neatly planted fields. Behind them came the elephants and rhinos, heading for the main gates and followed by thousands of jackals and hyenas ready to charge into the city and savage the defenders as soon as the large wooden gates were brought down.

Zenaria gave the city little chance. It had been designed to defend against human attackers, not an army of savage animals. She could imagine the horror of the attack as the hyenas and jackals, supported by the lions and leopards, tore into the city tearing apart any living thing they encountered. It would be sheer butchery. She doubted that there would be any left alive to witness Qirlan's victory.

She looked at the shaman. And noted that he was completely focused on the attack. Even for a shaman of Qirlan's power it took immense concentration to coordinate such a massive attack. The thousands of animals were acting completely against their nature and it probably took almost all of his formidable abilities to keep them under control. Zenaria could attest to the strength of his will. She had already attempted to reach out to one of the leopards caught up in Qirlan's magic and found that her own limited powers were far overshadowed by that of the shaman. Although she could touch the leopard's mind there was no response to her silent plea; only a sense of confusion and bloodthirsty rage.

The bestial army swept through the neatly plants fields and fruits trees, and past the herds of cattle, which fled in panic before them. They pushed through and over the stone fencing surrounding the walls and then onto the walls.

Sulia cried out in dismay and Zenaria held their breath. Nothing could survive such an assault. But just yards from reaching the walls the unexpected occurred. Hundreds of fiery missiles arced into the air and fell among the charging beasts; and then hundreds more. The surprise assault threw Qirlan's army into complete disarray. Many animals broke and ran while others milled in confusion. A few others continued only to be met by hundreds more flaming projectiles.

From beside her Zenaria heard Sulia gasp in surprise and horror. "They throw away their weapons."

It was anathema for the Urulana to use their spears as missile weapons. It left a warrior defenceless and so they were always held back for hand to hand combat. The throwing of a spear was regarded as an act of cowardice as it usually meant that the warrior was going to flee the enemy. But Zenaria realized in a sudden flash what had really happened. "Those are not spears," she said.

Her assumption proved correct a few heartbeats later when bundles of burning thorns were hurled from the walls. Shaped into large spheres, the flaming thorns rolled toward the remnants of Qirlan's beast army, scattering what was left. The animals broke, some howling in terror, others trumpeting and grunting in fear as they fled from their age-old enemy.

Qirlan screamed in rage and shook his staff as his army was routed. His concentration broken, he could do nothing as his dreams of conquest evaporated. Clearly he had not expected the defence that the Urulana had prepared.

Zenaria seized her chance. Sister, come to me! Her thoughts went out and found the leopard she had contacted before. The beast was close to panic. Frightened by the fires that had been hurled her way and by the stampeding of the other animals; she did not come willingly.

Come, sister. Help me, Zenaria persisted. The task was far from easy as the leopard's main goal was to get as far away as possible from this place of terror. But she had one thing that helped her. Leopards were not good at long range running and this one was already close to its limit. Exhaustion forced it to slow and Zenaria's mental plea began to register.

Once again she received the leopard's curt reply. I come.

Zenaria's attention returned to Qirlan. "How could this have happened?" he raged. He turned to Sulia. "You will not escape. I will parade you before the walls and lure the defenders from the city. I will yet have victory."

He turned back reasserting his will, and Zenaria felt her hold on the leopard almost torn away. What saved her was the fact that the shaman was oblivious to her connection to the leopard. Concentrating harder than she had ever concentrated before, she focused her will calling the leopard to her. Somehow she won and the leopard remained hers, even as the thousands of animals fleeing the fire of the Urulana stopped their headlong flight and returned to his control.

It was an impressive display of power, but one animal escaped his control. Unnoticed a single leopard threaded its way across through the fields toward the ridge where Qirlan and his two captives waited. Zenaria now recognized that the leopard was the same animal that had come to her rescue when she and the Urulana warriors had been captured by the slavers. It possibly accounted for her ability to establish a rapport with the animal. She now knew the leopard's name. Tralee, come. I need you again.

The familiar savage images clouded her mind. The leopard was not moving fast, but it was coming steadily nearer even as Qirlan ordered his captives forward. "Move," he commanded. "Let us see what happens when the cowards see their princess ravished while they hide behind their walls."

Sulia stepped forward, her features reflecting her fear. It seemed that nothing anyone could do would save her from her fate, but Zenaria could sense Tralee moving closer, moving among the horde of animals that Qirlan had called to his will.

Qirlan moved behind them, safe behind his baboon and gorilla guard. They were now almost within a spear cast of the wall and Qirlan halted. Zenaria sent out her message, but nothing happened. She could sense the nearness of the leopard, but this close to the shaman she could no longer reach Tralee's mind.

The shaman turned to the walls. His voice magically amplified she shouted to the city. "I am Qirlan. I have your princess. Defend her if you dare."

From inside the fortress a roar went up as thousands of Urulana shouted their anger. Qirlan's ruse appeared to be working and it became even more certain as he turned and forced Sulia back against the trunk of a tree. Nude except for her jewellery, she fought Qirlan as he spread her legs, but there was nothing she could do to stop him. In the fields around the fortress thousands of beasts waited for the gates to open while Zenaria frantically sought Tralee with her mind. But there was nothing. She could only watch as Qirlan discard his loincloth and prepared to do to Sulia what he had done to her.

Sweat poured from Zenaria's skin and her body trembled as she fought to overcome the power of Qirlan's magic. But there was not the faintest trace of the leopard. Once again the animal had fallen under the shaman's spell and Zenaria had not the strength to match him.

In desperation she struggled toward him, frantic to find some way to stop him. She was still tightly bound and her ankles were tethered, rendering her almost helpless. But she could still walk. Qirlan had his back to her as he pinned Sulia against the tree. He lifted and spread her legs, his hands under her thighs. The princess was fighting to preserve her honour, her eyes wide, he body trembling in fear and exertion. Zenaria lurched forward, pushing her way past several snarling baboons. The giant gorilla, Saugh stood just yards from the shaman and growled menacingly, but Zenaria did not stop. At the last second, she pitched herself forward and slammed all of her one hundred and sixty pounds into the back of Qirlan's legs.

With a shout of surprise, the shaman fell, landing on top of Zenaria. He rolled away from her, avoiding her weak attempt to tangle him in her legs, and got to his feet, his eyes blazing with anger. "White-skinned bitch," he raged, "I will feed you to the hyenas when I am finished with you."

Zenaria could only lie on her back and stare up at him, but suddenly there was a signal in her mind. "I cone, sister."

There was a savage scream as a black and gold shape hurled itself past Qirlan's guards. At the last instant Qirlan saw the attack coming and threw up his arms, but the leopard smashed him to the ground, her claws raking his chest. He screamed in pain and then Tralee's jaws closed on his throat. There was a spurt of blood, and a strangled gurgle, followed by a final spasm before Qirlan's body went limp. Then there was complete turmoil as thousands of animals were suddenly released from the shaman's spell.

Sulia and Zenaria huddled on the ground, helpless to defend themselves, but guarded by the snarling leopard. Fortunately, there was no reprisal from the animals that had served as Qirlan's guard. Instead they either turned on one another or fled. Within seconds the area around the two helpless women became a battleground as hyenas and jackals went after baboons and lions.

It was a brief battle. Even with their huge numbers neither hyenas nor baboons could match a male lion in sheer strength. Within a few heartbeats they were all fleeing, leaving the battleground to the big cats. That left only Sulia and Zenaria and their lone leopard guard, but Tralee did not leave them, growing fiercely as several somewhat bemused lions circled her. One huge black-maned male moved forward, seemingly intent on batting the much smaller cat aside.

A sudden shout changed that; a shout from a very familiar voice. "Zenaria!" Tralee growled menacingly as Varden, followed by dozens of Urulana suddenly appeared on the scene. The big cats hesitated and then bolted, unwilling to face the spear-wielding warriors.

Friends, Zenaria sent. Go now, sister.

Tralee growled one more time, and then with a bound, she was gone. Varden ran to Zenaria's side. He was fully dressed in his gleaming armour, the brilliance almost blinding, but Zenaria had never been more glad to see him. Immediately he cut her ropes and pulled her to him while the other warriors swarmed around Sulia.

Embarrassed at her helplessness, Zenaria managed to untangle herself from Varden and get to her feet. It was not all that comfortable in any case being clasped to Varden's armoured torso. By this time Sulia was also standing and surrounded by a crowd of warriors, many of whom Zenaria recognized as being members of her Companion Guard.

Everyone was speaking at once and Zenaria stood quietly waiting for things to sort themselves out. Finally at a word from Sulia everyone fell silent. "Come," the princess said, taking Zenaria's arm. "Luruana awaits."

In spite of her brave show, Zenaria could hardly stand. The battle with Qirlan to call Tralee to her side had exhausted her physically and mentally, but she was determined not to show weakness, and attempted to walk unaided. She stumbled and fell after one step, but Varden knew her well he caught her before she hit the ground and held her up. A young woman who Zenaria recognized as Kindra quickly took her other arm. Quickly other warriors moved to her aid, and much to Zenaria's utter chagrin, hoisted her onto their shoulders and carried her toward the fortress.

As they moved Kindra ran alongside chatting like a magpie. She was full of praise both for Zenaria's virtues as well as those of Varden. It turned out that the Kivalian knight was responsible for a good deal of the surprise defences against Qirlan's assault. It made sense that Varden would be somewhat acquainted with siege warfare considering his background, but the knight was rather apologetic.

"The defence was the best I could do with such short notice. I had only three days to prepare. Had I more time I would have had a bit more than just a few burning spears and flaming bushes. And it would have been even better had the Urulana been more inclined to use bows. However, what I managed worked well enough. It was more than fortunate, however, that you found a way to overcome the evil of the sorcerer."

"The Shining One hides the truth," Kindra said. "Had it not been for him we would have been overcome in the first assault."

"It was nothing that someone else could not have worked out," Varden replied. "It is common knowledge that all animals fear fire."

Varden had removed his helmet and Zenaria could see that the knight was a little uncomfortable with Kindra's praise, but the young warrior was not to be put off. "The Shining One neglects to mention that it was his gilded tongue that convinced our queen to let him arrange the defence."

Varden shrugged, a movement largely hidden by his armour, but Zenaria knew him well enough to see it. "Had it not been for Kindra I would have made no progress. She was able to convince her father to intercede on my behalf."

"My father is the High Shaman of the Urulana," Kindra said proudly. "He was mot impressed by the Shining One's power to heal."

Zenaria sensed that there was more that what Kindra and Varden were telling her, but she was suddenly too tired to focus properly on their words. Even as she struggled to remain conscious she felt her psychic and physical fatigue overwhelm her. In spite of her best efforts she felt her world slipping away and sleep took her to its more than welcome embrace.

Chapter 9: New Loves

Zenaria awoke to a cool darkness. A small oil-filled bowl burned beside her, providing a flickering light. She was lying across a large hammock under a light cotton sheet. She must have made some sort of sound because immediately a form stepped out of the darkness and came to stand beside her.

"You are awake," Sulia said, stating the obvious. "How do you feel?"

"I'm…" Zenaria hesitated. It was a bit too soon after awakening to be answering questions, but she came up with a suitable answer. "Hungry."

"I will get you food," Sulia smiled. "I don't doubt that you are very hungry and probably thirsty as well."

Zenaria pushed herself to a sitting position and discovered that she was completely nude. "How long have I been sleeping?" she asked, placing her hand on her shrunken stomach.

"Three days. The shaman said that using your magic pushed your strength to the limit."

"My magic?" Zenaria asked.

"Your power over the big cats. The leopard you summoned to kill Qirlan."

"I did not summon her," Zenaria said. "I asked her and she agreed."

"That makes it even more magical," Sulia smiled. "I will be back with food and drink immediately." She stepped out the door leaving Zenaria to wonder if she should go back to the hammock or get dressed. The leopard-skin skirt Qirlan had provided for her was lying on low wooden table just a few feet away as was the necklace and the gold jewellery. She was in a small square room built of the same black stone as the city walls. It contained the table, a chair, and the hammock and a large gourd that she supposed was used as a commode.

There was nothing else except the clothing and jewellery Qirlan had given her and which she regarded with distaste. "No," she said. "None of this is mine." She stepped over to a familiar object and picked up her sword. "Just this."

She swayed as a sudden wave of dizziness swept over her. "I need food," she muttered. "Where is Sulia?"

Her question was answered when the Urulanan princess appeared a few heartbeats later. She was carrying a waterskin and with her were two girls carrying a variety of gourds and bowls. They set them down of the low table. Sulia picked up the skirt and looked at Zenaria questioningly. "You aren't going to wear this? It is very fine."

Zenaria squatted before the table and began to eat. There were a number of foods she had never seen before including what appeared to be a gourd of curdled milk. She started with that and moved on to more solid food, eating slowly as to not tax her system after three days of starvation.

"No," she replied. "They do not have pleasant memories."

"I will have something brought to you." She turned to one of the young girls. "Clothing for the princess. Something in about my size. And tell the Shining One that the White Princess is awake."

"The White Princess?" Zenaria asked wryly.

"That is what my people are calling you. It does no good to correct them after your victory over Qirlan."

"I suppose it is better that white-skinned bitch," Zenaria smiled, remembering what Qirlan had called her.

She continued to eat carefully and was starting on a gourd of sliced fruit when Varden entered, followed closely by Kindra. The knight had shed his armour and was dressed as an Urulanan warrior in knee-length skirt, although he usually shunned jewellery he was wearing a simple glass bead necklace. She noted with some interest that Kindra wore an almost identical bauble about her throat. That fact confirmed her rising suspicions.

Varden immediately went to Zenaria's side. For an instant she thought he might take her hand, but he stopped short of that, instead kneeling beside her. "How fares my princess?" he asked.

"Well enough," Zenaria smiled. "And you seem in fine fettle." Her gaze went briefly to Kindra and Varden turned bright red.

Zenaria grinned. She always enjoyed it when Varden was jarred out of his rigid moral framework. Her meal had restored much of her strength and she noted with annoyance that her body was unmarked. Varden's healing talents had clearly been at work, although this time she couldn't say that she was unhappy about the result. Evidence of her degrading ordeal at the hands of Qirlan had been completely erased, and she couldn't help but be grateful for that.

She got slowly to her feet, testing her strength and deciding that she felt well enough picked up her sword again. She needed to fashion a scabbard for the blade and she wanted something to cover her heavy breasts. Attractive as were her female assets, and in spite of the Urulana's lack of bias regarding nudity, her breasts tended to be something of a liability in combat and she wanted to keep them under control. She said as much to Sulia, leaving Varden an even deeper shade of crimson.

"Come," the Urulana princess said. "I will help you find what you need; and then there is a royal audience with the queen and Durlag."

"Durlag?"

"The shaman. He is most interested in seeing the warrior who defeated so powerful a shaman as Qirlan."

Sulia laughed at Zenaria's frown. "Do not worry. The Urulana do not stand on ceremony. The queen wishes to welcome you as a daughter and the shaman as a warrior."

"That is well," Zenaria said. "I look forward to meting the queen and your shaman."

Sulia grinned. "He is also my father. Perhaps I should have mentioned that first."

"That makes it an even greater honour," Zenaria said and Sulia smiled her pleasure at the reply.

The Urulana city was simple in its layout. There were only three main streets; one inside each of the three concentric walls. Almost all the buildings were built up against the inside of one of these walls and they were all of the same height so that their roofs could serve as a platform on which the Urulana warriors could stand when defending their city. The outermost wall contained most of the dwellings of the Urulana and the second wall the various shops along with the merchants and artisans that served in them, so it was to the second circle that Sulia led Zenaria.

As Zenaria watched she was struck by the cleanliness of the city and its ordered construction. Animals were only brought into the city when needed so the street was relatively free of dung. Most of the houses seemed to be about the same size, consisting of a single story building standing a little higher than Zenaria could raise her hands. Sulia explained that they were large enough for a family of four and if the family grew larger than that then they were allowed to expand into the building next to them, provided it was not occupied. If it was then the family could move to the other side of the city where they were still a number of unoccupied dwellings.

Access to the inner circle of buildings was through any of three gates passing through the second wall and it was through one of these that Sulia led Zenaria. Once inside she found herself passing one artisan after the other. These buildings were taller as their roofs had to provide a second walkway for the defence of the second wall, which was taller than the first.

Zenaria noted the shops and artisans as she passed. There were providers of spices, cloth, leather goods, metal products, pottery, and many others as well as carpenters, smiths, spearmakers, and many other crafts. Although the products were crude and the selection of crafts limited compared to the large Sandak city she had seen, it was a much larger variety that anything in the simple wooden stockade where she had been raised.

Sulia led her first to a shop where a woman was engaged in sewing the simple cloth skirts worn by men and women of the Urulana. Sulia explained Zenaria ‘s need and the woman gave her a bit of a strange look but nodded. "I suppose it does make sense," she said. You are a little better developed than most warriors and your fighting style requires more movement."

Zenaria was surprised that the woman knew anything about her, but Sulia explained that the White Princess was famous all over the city and that the Shining One had fully described her fighting prowess as had the members of the Companion Guard Zenaria had helped free from the slavers.

Zenaria was flattered and a little embarrassed, but at the same time secretly pleased that her martial qualities were recognized. She waited while the seamstress measured and fashioned a cloth halter for her. At the last instant she wondered about payment and was surprised to discover than none was required. The Urulana were strongly communal and each member of society was expected to make a contribution according to his or her skill or proclivity. As long as each did his or her part then each received what was needed in order to go about their daily business. Thus some attended to agricultural tasks; others were hunters; some were artisans; and so on; each fulfilling a particular task of importance. All were expected to act in defence of their city, although most of the patrolling and warfare was carried out by the younger warrior such as Sulia and her companions.

The seamstress was highly skilled and soon completed the cotton halter Zenaria required. Upon trying it on; she found it fit perfectly and she swung her sword, testing its performance against the strain of battle.

Something of a crowd had gathered while she waited and her prowess with the sword drew some admiring oohs and ahs. It was all a little embarrassing for the Snow Leopard princess. Zenaria was not used to people clustering around her in an admiring audience.

Sulia noticed her discomfiture and grinned. "You will have to get used to it. You and Varden are most unusual. Most of my people have never seen anyone with skin that is so pale and those they have seen were all slavers. You are quite a novelty and everyone is most anxious to see you."

"Perhaps they will get used to us in time," Zenaria said hopefully.

"I doubt it," Sulia said. "I still haven't gotten used to you and I have known you the longest."

"I hope that is a good thing."

"It is a very good thing."

Sulia's last comment received an inquiring look from Zenaria. It was difficult to tell exactly what the Urulanan princess meant by it. But she let it go as Sulia led her farther along the street to the leather worker. Zenaria showed him her sword and explained what she wanted.

The man took a few careful measurements. "I will have it ready by tomorrow," he promised.

Zenaria nodded her thanks and let Sulia lead her from the shop. "Time to meet the queen," Sulia said.

Somewhat apprehensively, Zenaria followed Sulia toward the heart of the city. She knew that there was likely nothing to be afraid of, but she also knew that rulers sometimes caused harm without intending to. They entered a final gate and passed the last of the triple walls. This part of the fortress was quite different from the rest. It contained only a single building, built of the same black stone as the rest of the city. It stood two stories tall and was crowned by wooden structure that resembled a temple.

"The House of Rahlu," Sulia said. "Temple of the high priest and priestess. The queen of the Urulana and her consort."

What struck Zenaria was the complete absence of any guards. It reminded her very much of the main building in the tribal compound she called home. It was thought of as a palace by her people, but was more like a central meeting hall where the queen happened to reside. There were no guards there either and Queen Cirilia, her mother, was just as likely to be found sewing some garment or much more likely practicing her sword craft with her latest lover. As a result, it was no real surprise when a tall woman and an equally tall man emerged from a door in the front of the building and approached them.

There was no mistaking Sulia's resemblance to the Queen. They both had the same aristocratic cast to their features and the same slender but powerful build. The queen was still very beautiful even though there were streaks of grey at her temples. She was dressed and ornamented like Sulia, but with one addition. A heavy necklace of ivory hung from her neck. It was so like the one Qirlan had given to Zenaria that it was almost too much of a coincidence.

Beside the Queen was a male warrior of about the same age. He appeared much like the other men Zenaria had seen, bearing no special mark upon him expect for a feathered staff that he carried in his right hand. She guessed that this was Durlag, the queen's consort and the shaman of the Urulana.

Not quite sure of how to act, Zenaria watched Sulia. The young warrior moved forward, went down on one knee and then rose. "Mother," she said, I have brought the White Princess."

Zenaria emulated Sulia, going to one knee and then rising. She felt a bit awkward doing it, as she was still holding her naked sword, but neither the Queen nor the shaman seemed disturbed by this.

"I see you have recovered," the Queen said. "Please accept my thanks and that of my people for the service you have done us."

"I did nothing, but help a friend and attempt to save myself, your majesty," Zenaria replied.

"You are too modest, but your answer becomes a warrior," the Queen replied. "I see that you have found clothing more to your liking, but where is the necklace that you were given by the Ape Master?"

"I choose not to wear it your majesty. It is a reminder of my humiliation and failure."

"It is a trophy of war and a thing of power," Durlag said suddenly. "Rahlu has chosen that you should wear it as such."

There will be a feast tonight in your honour and that of your companion," the Queen said. "Wear it then and sit by Durlag. I believe he wishes to speak with you of your power over animals."

"I will, your majesty, but I think you honour me too much."

"You have been well taught, White Princess. Your mother must be a great ruler. But there is no need for false modesty here. Tonight we will sing your praises and recite your deeds. This is shall go into our history."

The interview seemed to be at an end, and Sulia went down on one knee again. After a moment of hesitation Zenaria did the same and out of the corner of her eye saw the Queen nod approvingly. Then the Queen and the shaman turned and entered the building.

"My mother does you a great honour," Sulia said. "I have never seen her have a formal meeting with anyone outside the temple of Rahlu."

"I am pleased to be so honoured," Zenaria replied.

Sulia laughed. "You need not be so formal with me. We are friends and companions are we not. Come. I will show you the rest of my city."

The tour included the fields outside the city and Zenaria was pleased to discover that her strength had completely returned. As they tramped through the orchards and neatly planted crops Sulia pointed out each one. Zenaria noted with interest and approval that the workers in the fields were of all ages and included many young men and women that were clearly warriors as their spears were placed at the edge of the fields as they worked with hoes to keep down the weeds. It was an exact parallel with the people her tribe who shared in all tasks.

She estimated the population of the Urulana at no more than five thousand. "Are there any more of your people elsewhere?" she asked Sulia.

"There are other settlements, but all live within sight of the Mountain of Fire and none are as large as Luruana."

"And beyond the Mountain of Fire?"

Sulia thought for a few heartbeats before replying. "Well, there are the slavers, but no one knows what land they come from. Only that it lies to the east."

"So no one has ever been to the land of the slavers?" Zenaria wondered.

"None that have ever returned." Sulia's answer reminded Zenaria that the slavers had probably taken many of her people into captivity never to be seen again.

"Why do you ask this?" Sulia inquired.

"I am far from my own land," Zenaria answered. "One day I may wish to return, and I was hoping that you might be able to help me."

"I will be sad when you leave," Sulia said. "But I know that you must go. One such as you is not destined to live among the Urulana."

"I am grateful for your friendship and hospitality," Zenaria replied, "but I am a princess of the Snow Leopard. I must return to my people someday."

Sulia did not comment further, but as they returned to the city Zenaria thought about how she and Varden were going to find their way back to their homelands. She had no idea where they were. She only knew that she was so far away from Erogenia that she recognized none of the constellations in the night sky.

"Tonight," Sulia said, as they entered the gate, "there will be a celebration in your honour. Then you may speak with Fulan. He knows much of the world and may be able to help you."

Zenaria remembered that Fulan already wanted to speak to her about her ability to talk to the big cats. Perhaps they could exchange information.

They returned to the house where Zenaria had awakened. On the way they stopped by the leather worker to pick up the sheath for her sword. Zenaria wondered how she was going to pay for it until Sulia reminded her that no form of currency was used in Urulana society. And from the way the leather worker presented the sheath to her she doubted he would have accepted payment in any case. It felt strange to be treated as if she were almost a goddess, but there was little she could do about it. She thanked the leather worker for his efforts and sheathed her sword, pleased to discover that the sheath and harness were just as she desired.

For the first time since being captured by the Urtts she felt properly dressed. With her sword slung over her shoulder she felt ready for anything and was looking forward to the evening's celebrations. It would give her a chance to speak with the shaman and perhaps discover if there was a way to get back to her home.

As night fell, Zenaria dressed as she had been asked, wearing the necklace Qirlan had given her. She felt uncomfortable putting it on, but she knew that the Queen and Fulan would expect her to wear it as a symbol of her victory over the evil shaman if nothing else. And she remembered that Fulan had said it was an object of power. As Qirlan's conqueror it was only fitting that she wear it.

Sulia accompanied her as did Varden and Kindra. It was obvious now that the young woman Varden had healed had attached herself to him and that her obvious infatuation with the knight was returned. It was a situation that Zenaria shrugged off. Unless pledged to one another members of Erogenian society were free to choose their sex partners and the fact that she and Varden had been brief lovers was not considered at all binding. She could not deny that she had enjoyed her liaison with the knight, but she felt no rancour against him for selecting someone new.

For Varden she knew; it was not the same. He had been a virgin when she and Zenaria had first made love, and he had sworn to marry her in order to preserve her honour; an idea that Zenaria found quaint and amusing. She had never considered holding him to his promise and now that the relationship seemed to have ended she was quite content to let him go his way.

She hoped that the celebration would give her a chance to speak with Varden. She had no idea what an Urulana celebration might consist of, but she expected that she might be able to get him alone for a short time and let him know that she saw nothing wrong with his connection with Kindra.

As they walked through the streets toward the inner circle of walls, they were accompanied by a throng of other Urulana. It seemed that everyone in the city was headed for the same place and most of the people in the crowd moving through the streets were carrying baskets of food or large gourds and leather skins that Zenaria guessed contained some sort of beverage.

As the crowd surged through the street, many turned to stare at and greet the white-skinned strangers. Zenaria could hear the constant murmur of "White Princess" and "Shining One," as she and Varden accompanied Sulia and Kindra. Most of the comments were part of greetings, many spoken almost in reverence. It made Zenaria distinctly uncomfortable. It seemed to her that if she was truly worthy of the awe and esteem of the Urulana she would not have allowed herself to be captured and degraded in the first place.

They finally reached the centre of Luruana. One the top of the temple-like building a large fire was burning in a great iron brazier, its flames throwing a flickering light over the city centre. It was aided by dozens of torches placed around the encircling wall of the inner courtyard. To one side of the temple-palace a steady thrumming created by the pounding of a dozen huge drums filled the area with sound.

It was both larger and more spectacular than any event Zenaria had ever attended in her homeland. It seemed that everywhere she went she was reminded of just how insignificant her people were. But she still would not have traded life among the clan of the Snow Leopard for any other, and she was suddenly and inexplicably overcome with a wave of homesickness. Her mind went to her infant daughter who had been left in the care of a close relative as was the custom of her tribe. She would be over a year old now and although Zenaria had known that her mission would take her from her people for months she had a sudden longing to be home.

Something of what she was feeling must have flashed across her face because without a word Sulia suddenly moved closer to her and took her hand. Surprised, Zenaria met the smiling eyes of the Urulana princess. She made no effort to withdraw her hand, but let Sulia lead her toward a wooden dais that had been sent up in front of the temple-palace. Seated there were Fulan and Walenia, the Urulana queen, and next to them were several empty seats obviously intended for their honoured guests.

Sulia led them to the Queen and bowed before her mother as did Varden and Kindra. Walenia motioned for them to sit beside her and several young boys and girls stepped forward with food and several large gourds of drink.

Following the lead of Walenia and Fulan, Zenaria helped herself to the food, picking up a chicken wing and nibbling it while she studied the gourd of brew that was presented to her. "Do not worry," Sulia said as if guessing her thoughts. "It is fermented coconut mixed with guava juice and berries. It is very sweet and good. We call it wam."

Zenaria picked up the gourd estimating that it held a good quart of heady aromatic liquid and sipped it cautiously. After her experience with the shugo any beverage was suspect, but it was as Sulia had said it would be and she took a second sip and then a third, keeping in mind that it would not be good form to get roaring drunk in the presence of the royal family.

The brew helped to settle her and she was soon chatting with Fulan and Walenia, both of whom were quite curious as to her background. It helped that both had spoken extensively with Varden and the knight had filled them in on many details of his world, but they were most interested to discover that Zenaria's life in Erogenia was radically different from Varden's Kivalian background. However, it was Zenaria's conversation with Fulan that proved most interesting.

"Show me the necklace you won from the sorcerer," he started. Zenaria lifted the heavy ivory and ebony necklace from her shoulders. It was too heavy to comfortably wear only about her throat.

Fulan gasped as it touched his hands, pulling them back as if they had been burned. Then he reached out cautiously and took the necklace into his hands. "I was right. This is an artefact of great power."

Power?" Zenaria asked. "Then why would Qirlan have me wear it?"

"I suspect he stored a great deal of his magic in it," Fulan answered. "To me the necklace hums like a hive of bees. Qirlan lives there still."

Zenaria's eyes widened. "You mean he could be reborn?"

Fulan shook his head. "No. Dead is dead, but I suspect he used the necklace to amplify his power over the animals he enslaved. He used you to carry it because he sensed that you too had some affinity with animals."

"He used me like a mule," Zenaria exclaimed.

Fulan looked at her curiously and she suddenly realized that the shaman had no idea of what a mule was. "An animal like a zebra, used as a beast of burden."

"Ah yes," Fulan said. "The Shining One has spoken of how he and his people enslave the larger animals. It is the same among you as well?"

Enslave was not the word Zenaria would have chosen. "It is like your cattle goats and chickens," she explained. Only we usually do not eat them."

She knew that this was not entirely true. Among the Erogenians mules and donkeys were often eaten when they got too old, but it was not their primary purpose. However, her explanation seemed to satisfy Fulan.

"I suspect," he continued, "that he did not realize the true extent of your power. He sought to use you to aid his cause, but he underestimated your strength, much to our good fortune."

"But I have no real power," Zenaria protested. "I call to the leopard and she comes to me, but she is not summoned. She comes as a sister."

"And so it should be," Fulan replied. He lifted his gourd and drank deeply, wiping his chin before continuing. "Our wild brothers and sisters were not meant to be dominated and enslaved as Qirlan used them. Your power is weak and untrained, but it will grow in time."

Zenaria drank also. The wam was a deceptively heady mixture and she could already feel its effect. She had no wish to end up falling down drunk so she set down the gourd and using a pointed wooden stick provided for the purpose, picked up a slice of baked aubergine and a drumstick. She considered Fulan's comments. He had set the necklace on the knee-high table in front of her and she made no effort to pick it up. His inferred offer to study under him was a tempting offer, but it got in the way of her desire to find her way home. However, there seemed a rather limited choice. Until she came up with some sort of plan to return home she was pretty much stuck where she was.

Fulan had turned his attention to Varden and was discussing his powers of healing. It was apparent form their conversation that it was a topic they had investigated before and the knight seemed genuinely interested, ignoring the full gourd of wam that sat in front of him. She glanced at Sulia and caught the princess looking at her. Sulia smiled warmly, her full lips parting to reveal her perfect teeth.

Zenaria licked her lips. In the flickering firelight, Sulia was more beautiful than ever, her dark eyes like deep mysterious pools. "Do you enjoy the drums?" she said, nodding her head toward the drummers.

There were five drums each made of leather stretched over large wooden frames. They ranged in size from a yard in diameter to a giant twice that size. Their powerful thrumming filled the air, vibrating Zenaria's bones with their power. "Magnificent," she answered. She noticed that a number of Urulana, especially the young, were on their feet dancing to the almost hypnotic rhythm.

Sulia caught the direction of her gaze and got to her feet. "Come," she said. "Before the wam goes to your head."

Unresisting, Zenaria allowed Sulia to lead her into the crowd of dancers. She soon discovered that their athletic efforts were not as random and she had thought, but involved an intricate set of dance steps. But with Sulia to help her she was soon dancing with the best of them her natural grace and balance compensating for her lack of experience.

The thundering music seemed to go right through her and wrap itself around her body. As the tempo increased her movements became more and more frenzied as if she was in some sort of magic spell, but one thing kept her attention throughout the frenetic activity and that was Sulia. Her movements were as graceful as a gazelle and she seemed to float through the crowd. Zenaria watched her every move, delighting in the graceful sway of her firm breasts and flexing of her powerful legs. She was the most beautiful creature Zenaria had ever seen.

"You are like a kudu," Zenaria panted; "Strong and graceful."

"And you are like one of the great cats," Sulia replied, her chest heaving from exertion. "Deadly but beautiful."

At that moment someone raised a voice in song. It was a sound that soared over the pounding of the drums. Zenaria stared in surprise as the drums suddenly went silent. Queen Walenia had moved to the edge of the raised platform and was singing in a clear, powerful voice. She started out high, her voice soaring like an eagle and then dropped so low it could barely be heard. Then it rose again, sweeping the listeners along with it.

Zenaria listened enthralled, a lump growing in her throat. The song reminded her so much of home she suddenly yearned to be back in her land of snow and forest. It was the custom of her people to sing the great sagas of the Snow Leopard tribe on important occasions, such as the day of the winter solstice or the decision of a couple to take the Golden Path, the most complete of the love bonds of Erogenia.

The song that Queen Walenia sang was, of course, different in style to that sung by her people, but it had much the same emotional power. It was a song of celebration, sung to thank the great god Rahlu whose immense power was even now demonstrated in a low rumbling and dancing of fire near the rim of the Mountain of Fire.

When she was finished the drummers took up their rhythmic pounding again, but in a single powerful beat as still another singer made her way to the stage. To Zenaria's surprise it was Kindra. She raised her voice in a soaring soprano that told the tale of a great battle between the Urulana and an invasion of the Tobor, the white marauders who raided the Urulana for slaves. The battle raged back and forth eventually resulting in a complete route of the slavers who were chased from Urulana lands, never again to return in such numbers.

Zenaria stood with Sulia listening with awe to the performance while she drank wam for her gourd. By the time the performance was finished she was filled with a warm glow, both from the drink and from the song.

As Kindra finished Sulia gave Zenaria's arm a light touch and then moved forward. She took the stage and began a low throbbing song of romance; a tale of an Urulana princess stolen from her home by an evil magician and forced to use her wit and strength to preserve her virtue until finally overcoming the shaman's magic and returning in triumph to her people.

It paralleled her own adventures so closely that Zenaria had no doubt Sulia had chosen it purposely to illustrate their adventure. As Sulia finished she couldn't help herself. She moved toward the stage as if pulled by invisible strings and found herself the focus of thousands of eyes. But she was well prepared. The people of the Snow Leopard loved song and dance, and Zenaria had long prided herself in her evocative contralto.

Her song was a favourite of the Tribe of the Snow Leopard. It told of two young warriors, lovers for only a year, and Copper-Bonded, who were assailed by a horde of Urtts. Fighting to the end, they died in one another's arms surrounded by the bodies of a thousand Urtts. It was a resounding saga complete with an emotional and most satisfying ending that left many in the audience choked with emotion.

Stepping down from the platform, she was met by a tearful Sulia. Without a word the Urulana princess took her hand and led her away from the crowd. Behind her the drums picked up again as the dancing resumed, the singing having ended at least temporarily. But Zenaria had eyes only for Sulia as the brown-skinned beauty led her from the inner circle toward the outer wall.

They hurried through the dark streets; between the black-stone buildings; the cooler night air flowing over Zenaria' skin. Her body tingled and her pulse raced as they approached the small dwelling where her hammock waited.

There was no light in the small room, but light was the last thing Zenaria and Sulia needed. They found one another, their arms playing over one another's bodies as they moved together. Zenaria found Sulia's lips, marvelling at their softness. It was her first passionate kiss with a woman, and it was like nothing else she had ever experienced. Sulia's lips seemed to melt, drawing her into an ever deeper kiss, her tongue slipping between Zenaria's lips and binding with hers in a kiss that had both women gasping for breath.

Sulia's knee moved between Zenaria's legs, her thigh lifting to caress Zenaria's most intimate area. Zenaria's hands found Sulia's powerful buttocks, pulling the Urulana princess to her as they tumbled to the hammock.

As Sulia's fingers fumbled at the ties to her halter, Zenaria undid the clasp holding Sulia's skirt. She continued her kiss, sucking on Sulia's lower lip and then moving higher to kiss her eyelids, before moving to lips to her neck, her tongue licking the sweat from her throat and then she went lower kissing Sulia's collarbone, and then running her tongue over the upper contour of Sulia's breasts.

Sulia moved over Zenaria offering Zenaria‘s eager tongue access to her breasts and nipples. Zenaria could feel the tender buds harden. Her dark-skinned lover arched her back and her finger's sought Zenaria's hot, wet centre, eliciting a cry as she found the tiny bud at the top of Zenaria's vulva.

It was a different kind of lovemaking. There was no penetration; just the soft interplay of fingers, lips, and tongues. Sulia took the lead; more familiar with the pattern of woman to woman lovemaking and Zenaria followed, touching, holding, stroking, licking, until they were both moaning in frenzied passion.

Zenaria cried out as Sulia's tongue dipped into her throbbing, soft wet centre. She arched her back, crying out as her body shuddered in unbridled passion. She shuddered again, her fervour even more intense as Sulia worked her magic. The pleasure was so intense that for a few heartbeats her body trembled uncontrollably.

But her partner was not finished. Skilfully Sulia took her to an even higher level; until she was quivering like a horse that has been run too hard. Spent with passion she sprawled across the hammock, her chest heaving while the sweat cooled on her body.

Sulia lay across her, her hand cradling Zenaria's left breast. She kissed her gently on the lips and then moved her mouth to her eyelids and throat. Incredibly, Zenaria felt her loins responding again. But now it was her turn to return the favours of the Urulana princess. While Sulia's hot mouth continued to move over her body, she found the throbbing heart of the princess's pleasure centre.

She was not as skilled as Sulia in making love to a woman, but she was patient and caring and had an almost instinctive sense of what her partner wanted. With gentle patience she caressed and stroked Sulia into the same quivering sexual release that she had experienced.

Mutually satiated, they lay in one another's arms, their breathing slowing, enjoying the peaceful sensation and listening to the beating of the other's heart. In that blissful state, sleep overcame them.

Chapter 10: Partings

Zenaria remembered the next few weeks as among the happiest of her life. She and Sulia attended to their duties, the Urulana princess attending to her royal responsibilities and Zenaria studying with Fulan. In between they hunted, trained for war, and even worked in the fields.

Zenaria was spared some of the manual work due to her martial skills. The Urulana made no use of the sword and had little use for the bow, preferring their long spears for both hunting and warfare, but they could not but be impressed by the prowess shown by her and Varden when it came to using the long blade. It became apparent that in close combat there was no Urulana warrior who could match either of them and it was not long before many of the warriors were demanding that their smiths turn to making swords for them as well.

It was a similar matter with Zenaria's powerful bow. She could easily outrange any even the strongest warrior when it came to spear against bow. And her deadly accuracy with the bow was something none of them could match. Soon both she and Varden were recruited into training the Urulana in the Kivalian and Erogenian arts of combat.

When they were not helping develop the martial skills of the Urulana, Zenaria and Varden studied with the shaman; Varden to learn more about the skills of healing, and Zenaria to improve her liaison with animals.

"You have great potential," Fulan told her. "Perhaps even greater than that of Qirlan."

"But I do not want that kind of power," Zenaria protested. "I am a warrior. Not a sorcerer. I have no wish to control the elements of nature."

"You have a gift, given to you by Rahlu the Creator. It goes against the will of the gods not to use it. Qirlan used his gift for evil; you must use it for good."

Zenaria opened her mouth to object once again. She was distinctly uncomfortable with the concept of forcing what she thought of as her animal cousins to do anything against their will.

"Would you go into battle without your sword?" Fulan asked, before she could comment. "Your gift is not separate from your body or your soul. It is a part of you. The gods have bestowed their favour upon you. Do not dishonour them."

Zenaria bowed her head respectfully. Perhaps her gift was part of the cha and not to use it was to go against the will of the gods. After all, I must have been given this gift for some purpose. She halted her objections and did her best to learn more about her arcane ability.

However, even as she grew closer and closer to Sulia and immersed herself in her training and the daily life of the Urulana, something constantly nagged at her, and that was a desperate longing to return to Erogenia.

In spite of her deep affection for Sulia she knew there could never be a proper bonding between them. Sulia's destiny lay in becoming the next queen of the Urulana although she learned that it was not a position that was entirely assured. It turned out that any one of Walenia's daughters was eligible for the queenship, provided she fulfilled the obligations. Zenaria could not imagine that any of Sulia's younger sisters could match her in the necessary qualities. However, they all trained for the position, mindful of the fact that accident or warfare could lead to the death of the eldest, thus placing one of them in line for the succession.

One thing was certain and that was when Sulia reached her twenty-fifth birthday she would marry one of the many young warriors of her generation. There were many to choose from and the choice of the princess would not be ignored. But she was expected to choose wisely, selecting a partner with virtues that would complement hers.

Whatever Sulia's future, it was a situation that held no place for Zenaria. She could not picture herself becoming a full member of Urulana society even though her pale skin was not held against her. She simply was not cut out for an existence where day to day life meant staying in one place. For better or worse her restless spirit drove her to explore new lands and cultures and nothing could tie her down to a single location for long.

However, her new life was not without its attractions. Her new duties kept her very busy, and she found to her surprise that she actually enjoyed teaching the Urulana warriors to use bow and blade. And then, of course, there were her nights of passion with Sulia. They surpassed even her relationship with Varden, short as it had been, although not her affair with her distant lover Tren, a liaison that had led to the birth of her daughter.

She thought of Tren less now, But the Beni Sidra assassin was never far from her thoughts. It was another reason for returning to Erogenia, because unless she did she would never see the father of her daughter again.

However, it was not going to be that easy to get away. She could not bring herself to simply leave Sulia, not after the blossoming of their relationship. And there was another more practical reason. It appeared that she and Varden had arrived in the land of the Mountain of Fire during the dry season. Now the rains were approaching, a time of year that would make travel impossible. Already daily showers heralded the approach of much heavier downpours.

Strangely, it was Sulia who provided a solution; one that was so unexpected that it left Zenaria open-mouthed.

They lay in exhausted stickiness, enfolded in one another's arms. Sulia's breathing slowly quieted and she kissed Zenaria softly. "I have spoken to the queen," she said. "I can go with you."

"With me?" Zenaria finally managed. "Where am I going?"

"I have only been with you a short time, but it is long enough," Sulia whispered. "And I have spoken with the Shining One who knows you better than I. I know you love me, yet you long to be off in search of other lands. I cannot keep you here, but I do not want to leave you and so I have asked my mother, the queen for permission to go with you."

Zenaria pushed herself up on one elbow. She could not see Sulia in the darkness of the room, but she could feel the eagerness in the other's body. Slowly she ran her hand over the other's hip, moving up to her waist, and finally finding her firm breast. Gently she traced circles about the taut nipple. "You know it will be a long and dangerous journey," she said. "And that you might never return to see your mother again. What say you to that?"

"I am a princess of the Urulana," Sulia answered softly. "And I do not shy away from danger. Moreover, should I not return I have four sisters to take my place. And finally it is thought that for too long the Urulana have hidden away from the world. Now it is time for one of our number to see what lies beyond the slopes of the Mountain of Fire."

"You are sure about this?" Zenaria whispered as Sulia's hand moved to the middle of her back.

"As sure as am of this," Sulia answered as she nuzzled Zenaria's nipples, taking first one then the other into her mouth and licking and sucking them to alertness. Zenaria made a sound halfway between a sigh and a moan and then gave in to her natural desires.

Never one to waste time, Zenaria had made good her preparations by the end of the next day. She decided against taking the heavy gifts she had been laden with by the Emperor of Jingua. Instead she left the exquisite golden armour with Walenia. By coincidence the queen was almost the same height as the woman it had been intended for, Zenaria's mother, Queen Cirilia. Zenaria felt almost guilty in not being able to take it with her, but it was far too bulky to lug across the vast plains she would have to travel. Similarly, she left the armour she had been given, finding it unsuitable in a land that had no beasts of burden. If the Urulana had possessed animals like horses, it might have been a different matter, but on foot such heavy gear was impractical. She settled on her sword; bow and quiver of arrows; and her heavy bladed knife. For clothing she wore only her cotton skirt and halter, and a light cape ostrich feathers. The feathered cape served a dual purpose, providing protection against the sun for her relatively pale skin, and also acting as a rain cape. It was so expertly woven that even the heaviest rain ran off – or so she had been told. She had yet to test it in a real downpour.

Her only other clothing was a pair of sturdy sandals. These were a bit of a novelty among the Urulana who traditionally went barefoot. In fact Sulia's feet were so tough that she could walk on the vicious needle-like thorns without pain or injury.

It went without saying that the Urulana princess wore even less than Zenaria. However, she adopted Zenaria's custom of wearing a halter and also took a feathered cloak.

In addition to their clothing both women wore an assortment of jewellery. Sulia, wore her gold arm bands and bracelets as well as a light gold chain; and Zenaria gold bracelets and the heavy ivory and ebony necklace. She wore the necklace reluctantly and would have left it with Fulan had the shaman not insisted that she take it. Finally, she gave in and accepted that the necklace was hers, but its heaviness was uncomfortable and so she wore it around her waist like a belt.

Each woman also carried a light pack which between them contained flint and steel, a few medicinal aids, fishing line, tea, salt, dried herbs and seasonings, a small metal cooking pot, two light wooden spoons, two bowls made out of gourds, and a few other useful items. Each woman also carried her own waterskin.

They carried almost no food except for a few nuts and grains for emergency, expecting to be able to hunt and forage along the way. Like Zenaria, Sulia had a sword strapped over her shoulder. She was far from being a swordswoman, but Zenaria expected to tutor her along the way. In addition, the Urulana princess carried her long spear and like Zenaria, a heavy knife.

Thus equipped, they were ready to set out, but not before a series of goodbyes. They first took their leave of Queen Walenia and Fulan. This was hardest for Sulia as she was leaving the only life she had ever known, but the Urulana princess was filled with the sense of adventure and said her goodbyes without tears.

It was the same for Zenaria. Other than her official goodbye to the Queen and her consort, she really only had to say goodbye to Varden. The fact that the knight had briefly been her lover might have influenced her more had he not revealed that Kindra was carrying his child and that he was quite content to stay among the Urulana and further develop his healing skills and train the warriors in the "civilized" manner of making war.

"They know nothing of siege warfare or defending properly against an attacking army," the knight stated. "I will be quite busy teaching martial techniques as well as instilling a proper sense of chivalry. I will miss your expertise with the bow, but I have the smiths working on a crossbow that I believe most warriors will find easier to use. I believe what I will miss most is my horse, but the Urulana are brave and have the makings of good infantry."

Zenaria smiled. With the pregnant Kindra by his side it seemed apparent that the knight was going to have little trouble fitting in. "Farewell, Sir Knight," she said. "Perhaps one day you and I will meet again. If I journey to Kivalia I will seek out your order and tell them what became of you."

Varden returned her smile. He stepped forward and placed his powerful but gentle hands on Zenaria's shoulders. Leaning forward he kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Go with St. Brenna's blessing, snow princess. I will always think of you."

"And I of you," she returned. For some strange reason her voice almost stuck in the throat, but there seemed little more to be said. She felt the touch of Sulia's hand and turning she smiled at her lover. Together they set out through the gates of Luruana. New adventures awaited her.