Chapter 11

"One thing about gathering troops for a mission," Snake began Monday evening, continuing the narrative without preamble despite five days gap, "we left no one behind for possible recriminations or worse. We headed to the train station immediately upon our success; those bloodied changing their damaged clothes within our carriages."

"We should have lopped off the bitch's head, Nick," Rosa grumbles, her heavy, buoyant, deeply tanned naked breasts bouncing most alluringly as the carriage rolled over holes. "She will alert Simon and send her minions."

Nick shakes his head and grins. "The train to St Louis will arrive soon enough upon our arrival at the station. She will have no time to act. Besides, I believe she has few minions left healthy enough to stop us."

"But..."

"When you head back, they won't know which train, you will look different and be in different company."

"But..."

"You will treat Renaldo's new amore until you feel comfortable leaving her treatment to Renaldo. Then you can return to your beloved Carlos."

While Raul has been admiring those bouncing boobs, Renaldo glances at his beautiful boss only when he hears his name, his attention devoted to the unconscious woman held in his lap. He and Rosa exchange sad smiles.

"She needs fluids and a light meal," Rosa prescribes. "Eggs, sausage, toast, juice and milk. Can we stop for breakfast?"

"Not kosher," Louisa points out. "No swine product and mixing dairy with meat. I know of a delicatessen near the station that's kosher. If we have time?"

"We do," Nick smiles at the tall, handsome woman. Though gaunt and malnourished herself, he could see her power.

Renaldo saddens even more. "She will have nothing to do with me then. I am a gentile."

Louisa shakes her head and smiles at the good looking deeply tanned South American gentleman. "Sarah's a bit of a rebel. Her food may be kosher, but her interests in men definitely aren't. Unfortunately that's what brought Mistress Dagmar's goons into our midst. A trusting Sarah wanted my company for a double date with two goons. She knew I had no interest in these blond Vikings, but one of them interested her and I think she wanted my opinion of the man. Well, that became unnecessary when they drugged us and turned us into whores. I'm afraid her trust in men ended rather violently."

"I ... I would never hurt her," Renaldo promised.

"I agree. I see the kindness in your eyes. She will see it too, in time. If you were her date, I would approve."

"But ... is it blonds that turn her head?"

"I think it has more to do with aesthetics and charm. Not long ago we befriended an American Indian man, a Navajo, a medicine man's son who wears western clothing and studies English and law on his own to work towards negotiating with the white man to benefit his people. I could tell she wanted more than friendship. I couldn't blame her. He is handsome and elegant and well spoken. But heritages clashed. The tribes, Hebrew and Navajo, couldn't accept such a union. Her being an orphan made that less of an issue, although my father who is basically her guardian would never have accepted it. And his father would have been shamed if he married outside the tribe. We remain friends though. He is a lovely man. So no, my dear Renaldo, you have nothing to worry about."

"What about your father?" Renaldo asks.

"As much as she respects and admires and loves him and feels obligated towards him having taken the father role in her life since she was ten, in this I believe any objections he may have will be ignored."

"You mean he might not object?"

"Are you Catholic?"

Renaldo shook his head. "I am agnostic, though any beliefs I have tend towards the spiritual pantheistic stories of my Indian heritage. They are rooted in the land and sky of my birthplace."

Glancing out the carriage window, Louisa nods and tells Nick, "Could you stop the carriage? We need to take a right at the next block."

Nick knocks thrice on the roof of the carriage and it stops. Leading the mini caravan, the other two carriages stop.

"It's called the Fifth Street Delicatessen. It's popular, so the driver should know it," Louisa tells Nick who exits the carriage, returning momentarily.

"He knows of it," he says. The carriage moves forward.

"Why do you ask about my religion?" Renaldo asks Louisa.

"Have you read the Hebrew bible?"

"Yes. It was necessary for my schooling."

"Would you consider joining the tribe it delineates?"

"The world in six days? Adam and Eve?"

"We're all skeptical it's the exact truth. Think of it as allegory like your people's stories. But I think it's the rituals you need to examine, the bris and bar mitzvah and the wedding ceremony and the various holidays. There you will find the heart of our faith."

The carriages stop in front of the delicatessen. "I will bring food out to you and Sarah," Rosa tells Renaldo. She and the others have finished changing.

"Bring it to the drug store next door," says Louisa. "Would you carry her in there?" she asks Renaldo.

"Of course," Renaldo replies questioningly.

His bafflement dissolves when an older version of Louisa screams her name upon their entrance into the odd store filled with notions and curatives and embraces her. Tears stream from both sets of eyes. The older woman notices the unconscious Sarah. "Oh my God! What happened?"

"Nothing good, Mama," Louisa replies before fainting. Even with Sarah in his arms, Renaldo manages to catch Louisa's head in his hand before it slams onto the floor.

"Ben! Carry your sister upstairs to her room." Mama commands.

A tall thin young man in his late teens appears and kneels and lifts Louisa into his arms, straining but managing. "Follow me," he tells Renaldo quietly.

"Nate, go next door and fetch some matzo ball soup," Mama commands a thin, pot bellied older man.

Renaldo responds, "My mistress is fetching breakfast, ma'am. She is medically trained."

"Watch the store then, Nate. I will we see to our daughters."

Nate smiles, a look of relief mixed with concern and amusement complicating his expression. "Thank you for bringing my daughters home," he says quietly to Renaldo who nods. "I suggest you obey my wife's commands at all times."

Renaldo returns the smile. "Yes sir. I can see that would be the wise choice." They share a chuckle.

"Damn right," Mama grumbles, wrestling with a smile that wins out. The men bearing women exit through a backdoor she opens and up well constructed wooden steps to a second floor apartment, clean and homey. The room they enter reminds Renaldo of a dormitory room he shared with a student. Two beds at opposite walls and a desk in between. Ben carefully lowers his sister into the right bed, his body shaking with effort. Renaldo settles Sarah onto the bed on the left.

"What happened, young man? Where have they been these past two weeks?" asks Mama standing in the doorway.

"I think your daughter should tell you what she wishes to," Renaldo replies. "Like she said, it's nothing good."

"And who are you?" she asks.

"He's a friend, Mama," Louisa murmurs, her forehead tense. "He helped rescue us. Ben, could you fetch some smelling salts."

"And some willow bark," her mother adds.

"I just need food, Mama."

"Do as I say, Ben," Mama commands and walks over to a chest of drawers where she pours water from a carafe into a glass. "Drink this."

"How old is it?" Louisa gazes at the glass.

"I refill it every morning. It's..." The glass threatens to spill as Mama bows her head and lowers her back, sobbing. Louisa manages to grab it. "I thought I lost you!" Mama says unsteadily.

"You still may have," Louisa moaned. She swallows the water and hands the empty glass to Renaldo and brings her mother into her bed.

"Louisa," Renaldo grumbles, "you cannot blame yourself or find guilt in anything that happened to you. You are free. Let the experience fade into a bad memory."

Louisa's face tightens into a grimace and her body tightens as well, lifting her hips off the bed. "I can ... still feel ... the monsters'..."

Ben enters with a large tray of food, a small glass container sitting on the edge. He places the tray on the chest of drawers.

"Where is the willow bark?" asks his mother rising from her daughter's bed.

"An Indian woman told me to bring up the food and the smelling salts and would collect some curatives from Dad's stock," Ben explains guiltily.

"That would be my mistress Rosa," Renaldo explains. "She is a doctor."

"Give me the smelling salts," Mama orders.

"Rosa says to wait for her."

"You should do as she orders, Mama," says Louisa. "She's as strong a woman as you. Besides, I envy Sarah her unconsciousness."

Rosa shows her strength by sweeping into the room with a basket full of medicine and medicinal ointments and swabs, ordering everyone out.

"This is my house," Mama gripes.

"Please, Mama," Louisa begs.

"No! You two young men go downstairs. We will see you later."

"Mama!"

"No Louisa. I am a trained nurse."

"You will embarrass her if you stay," Rosa tells Mama.

"Mama?"

"No Louisa!"

"Alright then," Rosa sighs. "Bring her her food." Rosa pulls up Louisa's skirt and begins pulling down her underclothes.

"What are you doing?" Mama grumbles.

"Curing her," says Rosa.

Mama has to look and sees the enflamed pussy lips and anus. "My God!"

"Help her eat, Mrs..."

"Call me Ruth, Rosa," Mama sniffles, turning away from her daughter's damaged orifices and bringing the glass of juice to her lips.

"I can manage to feed myself," Louisa says gently.

Ruth's eyes beg her daughter as her voice begs, "Please let me take care of you."

Louisa smiles up at her formidable mother. "Okay, Mama."

Rosa cleans the area and sponges ointment onto the raw skin.

"Is ... Sarah ... in similar need of this?" Ruth asks.

"Worse," Louisa barely voices. Both her and her mother sob. "We must be strong, Mama."

"We are strong, daughter," says Ruth gaining control.

"Ooh," Louisa moans when Rosa pushes an ointment coated swab deep into her rectum.

"Is that painful?" asks Rosa.

"It is helping," Louisa tell her.

"Good. Give your daughter some laudanum as soon as she finishes eating." Rosa moves on to her second patient, removing her underthings and cleaning the abused flesh and applying the salve.

"Is she worse?" asks Ruth.

"I'm afraid so," Rosa tells her.

"Will you tell me what happened?" Ruth asks her daughter.

"I ... I can't."

"I understand," Ruth says and kisses her daughter's sweaty forehead. "She's warm," she tells Rosa. "I should give her some willow bark."

"Good idea," Rosa nods while concentrating on soothing Sarah's damaged flesh.

Minutes later, she brings the smelling salts under Sarah's nose and awakens her.

"Ow. Oh. What? How? I'm ... home!" Sarah moans.

"Drink this ... slowly," Rosa tells her, pressing the glass of juice to her lips and tipping it.

An hour later, Nick stands in the doorway of the bedroom. "We must be leaving," he tells the occupiers of the room, interrupting conversations centered on Sarah and Renaldo getting to know each other and obviously enjoying it. Renaldo lifts Sarah into his arms. Both she and Louisa have changed clothing. Louisa has packed two canvas bags.

"I wish you'd stay," Ruth reiterates her often repeated refrain.

"Sarah needs me and ... I can't live here anymore," Louisa again states. The women hug. Louisa hugs her brother. More hugging occurs downstairs when she says goodbye to her father.

As the entourage enters their carriages, Nick lags behind, standing beside the distraught mother. "Those that did them harm will come here to recapture them," he explains. "You will be in their way and therefore at risk as will your husband and son."

"They are formidable, these monsters?" Ruth asks.

"Extremely," Nick answers.

"They will be safe with you?"

"I promise. Communication will be treacherous. I can't have these ... men know your daughters' whereabouts."

"But ... I have to know..."

"And you will," Nick tells her. "Trust only any person with this on his or her chest." He shows her a pin of a coiled snake wrought in gold, its eyes gleaming with red rubies; its tail raised creating a point at the center. "This person will bring you letters and wait for you to respond."

"Thank you Nick," Ruth smiles, her eyes glistening.

"You will see your daughters again, sweet Ruth, when it's safe."

Ruth nods and kisses Nick's cheek.

Arriving in St Louis, the entourage heads for another private home, this one owned by a wealthy minion, owner of a successful mercantile shop. Though large, beds must be shared. A long unused crib is found for Greta's son, and his and her daughter's sleeping arrangement becomes determined by an instant friendship between her daughter and the son of the black servant couple that resides there who is the same age as her. He insists she share his bed.

"I will stay with my father ... if he'll let me," Esther volunteers.

"Only if he lets me stay with you," her handsome fiancé Jacob proclaims.

"And me as well," Greta demands, assured that her offspring will be well taken care of in her absence.

Esther chuckles, kissing her lovers quickly on their lips. Her eyes harden. "He sold me. He will do as I wish."

"Esther," Nick sighs, "you will find out the circumstances. Simon can be persuasive as you most certainly know."

"Yes Nick," Esther nods submissively. Her determination however returns instantly. "I want to know now!"

"Then we shall head to your father's shop," Nick smiles.

The oldest daughter of the shop owner takes Nick's bag. "I will put this in my room," the redheaded shy and pretty eighteen year old tells him. She tries to conceal her reluctance but fails. He glances at the patriarch and frowns. The man looks too proud to give up his daughter's innocence to a stranger even if Nick does represent an exulted being to the man.

"Are you in love, my dear?" he asks the young woman.

"I ... I am engaged, Master..."

"I told you to call me Nick. Tell me about your beau."

"He is a good man. Ambitious too. Father plans on bequeathing him his store."

"And arranged for your wedding to him?"

"No Nick. I have known John since, well, forever. He is my best friend's oldest brother. I had a crush on him when I ... first became interested in such things and it ... he admitted he had similar feelings. That he worked for my father since 15 and is now assistant manager is purely coincidental."

"A most happy coincidence," Nick says, studying the older minion who nods. "Three daughters and no sons to take over the business."

"I admit I would have encouraged their engagement," says the father. "As it turns out I didn't have to. It is a fortuitous situation. I have colleagues with sons who have been coddled all their lives and would rather spend all their inheritance selfishly than continue their fathers' businesses. My future son-in-law is a godsend."

Nick leans into the daughter's ear. "You retain your virtue?" he inquires.

Her innocence reveals itself in her blush. She nods unnecessarily.

Nick restrains his anger. "I will use a guest room. Raul can share it with me or..."

"I will find a room downtown," Raul volunteers.

Nick chuckles. "I'm sure it won't be a lonely bed, my charming friend."

Raul blushes.

"You must take the master bedroom," the father insists.

"And put you and your lovely wife out after your most gracious sharing of your lovely home? Donald, I appreciate your obedience, but shut the fuck up. At least you didn't offer me your younger daughters."

"Claire's fifteen and Belle's only twelve," the mother exclaims.

"Exactly," Nick smiles. It melts in wonder when he meets the middle daughter's face and sees ... disappointment? He admits to himself she is intensely attractive. Her green eyes shine with intelligence. The porcelain skin of her face glows. It's shape a perfect symmetrical oval. Her blouse is filled with promising orbs, buoyant and youthful. The skirt rises over equally buoyant buttocks.

"I will take your bags to your room," she volunteers with a wry grin, her eyes scan down to see his stiffness press at his britches. "Follow me."

Nick's eyes enjoy the subtle shifting of fabric draped over that perfect young derriere as they ascend the stairs. "Just give me a couple minutes," he yells, his eyes remaining transfixed.

In a room with obvious feminine touches she drops the bags and hops into his arms and kisses him. Her mouth opens when his tongue prods her lips. The kiss intensifies several fold when their tongues greet and dance together. She moans into his mouth when his penis rubs her hot and damp vagina. Despite the multitude of cloth separating the sexual organs, he can feel the teenager's condition.

Finally their lips separate and he slowly lowers her to her feet.

"This is your room?" he asks her. She nods determinedly. "Why me? You are one of the great beauties of the world. You will only get more beautiful. Any gentleman would kneel at the presence of such exquisiteness."

"I don't know," she admits. "Powerful men ... excite me. My father knows many such men and I enjoy flirting with them and dancing with them and feeling their excitement." She kneels and touches his hardness boldly. "But I see their weakness, their guilty or greedy lust and feel disappointment. But you are so much more powerful. You are a god. My father acts like a weak fool in your presence."

"That he does," Nick sighs. "Giving his daughter to me and hoping for impregnation when she is to wed a good man and hopes to bring him the gift of her chastity disappoints me."

"He thought ... he had to honor his master."

"He thought wrong," Nick replies gruffly. "Did he at least appear reluctant?"

"Nope. Very excited, actually."

"Damnit!"

The middle daughter giggles and squeezes his flagging penis through his britches and causes it to regain stature. She kneels and kisses the thicker end of it and looks up lovingly. "Can I be your companion? All those amazing women and you sleep alone. You deserve better. You ... thrill me to the core. I couldn't wait to meet you, just to see what a creature was like who could turn my proud and dignified father into a subservient slave. But you ... you hated his kowtowing and his sacrificing of his favorite daughter."

"It's obscene."

"You're incredible."

"So are you, my sweet Claire." He lifts her to her feet and hugs her. Their eyes meet. They kiss briefly. "I must be off."

"Let me accompany you."

Nick chuckles. "I have a feeling you plan on keeping close company from now on."

"If you'll let me."

"I will."

"Yay!"

"At least for now."

She frowns. "I won't be a bother. I'm not some fawning stupid child. I have conversed with powerful men, and I could see they enjoyed the conversation."

"I'm sure they did."

"And not just because I'm pretty."

"You're much more than just pretty, and..."

"I read voraciously and..."

"You positively glow with both beauty and intelligence, sweetheart. Let's see how the day goes and if it goes as well as I believe it will, I will speak with your father about you becoming my companion."

"Oh Nick." She grabs his head to pull it down for a kiss.

He resists, gently pulling her hands away. "My friends await, one being particularly impatient."

"Sorry."

"No need."

As they exit the room, she says, "You know my father will let me go with you."

"I'm certain he will be thrilled, the old fool."

The strange new couple shares a chuckle.

"About time," Esther grumps impatiently. They start out the door, Claire trailing behind.

"Where are you going?" her mother, a cute if plump redhead not much taller than her petite middle child, brusquely inquires.

"With Nick," Claire replies just as brusquely.

"It's none of your business."

"It is now."

"Let her go," a pleased father insists.

"Goddamnit Harold. Offering Sherry as if she were some sort of gift from your harem was bad enough, but Claire's..."

"Almost sixteen, Mother," Claire interrupts, "and I begged him to let me accompany him. I'm so happy he accepted."

"Is this true?" the mother asks Nick, sadness in her eyes.

"What difference does it make, Nancy?" Harold shouts. "Master favors my daughter."

"ENOUGH!" Nick bellows, shaking the foundation of the large house. "I am not your master! I don't need your favors or your offerings or whatever your twisted brain pushes on me! Yes you are my minion and your hosting us at your lovely home happened because of it. That is all I REQUIRE! I DO NOT FORCE A WOMAN TO FORNICATE WITH ME OR ANYONE ELSE! IT IS ALWAYS FREELY GIVEN!" Taking several calming breaths, he turns to Claire. "My sweet beauty, I'm afraid..."

"No!" Claire screams. "Just give me a minute with my mother. Please?"

"One minute," Nick acquiesces.

Claire takes her mother's hand and drags her into the kitchen, glancing back to be sure no one follows her. "Sit, Mother."

Her mother sits numbly. At last she speaks. "I don't understand. He's so much older than you."

"We both know he's much, much older than he appears," Claire replies with a grin and they actually share a laugh. "But I think he's the most fascinating man I ever met."

"Claire ... I know it's not fair to your sisters, but you've always been my favorite. I can actually talk intelligently with you. It used to be like that with your father, but the years have emptied us of conversation."

"You could come with us."

"Your father deserves that," her mother grins evilly. "But he still needs me whether he admits it or not, and so does Belle. Sherry has always been your father's daughter and soon she will be with her beau."

"I don't want to hurt you, Mother..."

"So don't."

"I have to."

"Why? Has he compelled you?"

"Only in the fact that I feel like he needs me."

"Why would he need you?"

"He's alone or will be soon. I feel his sadness. I want to make him happy. It would make me happy. And ... he ... excites me. The way Father excited you and made you have to marry him."

"Claire!" Her mother shakes her head and smiles. Too many intimate and profane conversations with her precocious daughter have loosened her presumed Victorian sensibilities greatly, and she has enjoyed losing what both consider essentially hypocritical attitudes. She giggles, "Okay, so you found a man with eons of experience."

"Yep," Claire responds proudly. "He's going to rid me of my pesky virginity, and its going to be heavenly, and I bet it just gets better."

"Now I'm jealous."

"So come with us. I'll share." They laugh hysterically. Once calmed, Claire says, "You must be tired of the same old cock by now."

"If nothing else, your father still knows how to ring my bell."

"He's a lucky man."

"I'm a lucky girl. I'm going to miss you terribly. Promise you'll write?"

"Oh Mother!" Claire jumps to her feet and pulls her mother into a big hug. "I love you. I promise at least once a month I'll write about all my adventures ... in detail."

They laugh fully again. "That will please your father greatly, if indirectly."

"You know how weird we are, Mother. My friends can't even imagine their parents fucking, but how the hell did they get born if they didn't?"

"Storks," Mother replies and they chuckle, calming enough to return to their company.

Claire bounces in front of Nick patiently awaiting the outcome. Taking his hands in hers she looks up at him with a brilliant smile. "Mother approves," she says.

"Good to hear," Nick smiles and kisses the top of her head. "Ready?"

"Yep!"