Chapter 13: Sapphire escapes from Hell

My experience in the Sadaqa arena leaves me feeling cheated. Don’t get me wrong; I’m relieved that my limbs weren’t pulled from their sockets by oxen, but that was an outcome that only ever existed in my mind. What causes my frustration, though, is that not one of the men around me took the opportunity to fuck me. It wasn’t from any lack of effort on my part.

The arena victor who was awarded me as her prize had no interest in lesbian sex, even though she would have found me willing. Instead I was tied spread-eagled to a wooden frame on wheels, and the victor had me hauled around the arena by a team of four oxen. The huge arena crowd appreciated the sight of me helplessly bound as the victor swatted me with a leather strap. The experience was far from pleasant and left my body a bright pink and throbbing with pain. All that would have been worthwhile if only someone had the consideration to relieve my sopping wet cunt. But I went unrewarded and returned to Hell with the others.

Although I was denied any sexual fulfilment, the extra bonus I’ve been paid is a giant leap forward towards repaying my debt to Mistress Mercy, and gaining my freedom. Helene seems to have finally woken up to the financial benefits of taking greater risks in the type of entertainment she provides in Hell. The arena was a big money earner for those who survived. However, of the original eight of us who left here for the arena, only five of us have returned intact. Two deaths and one serious injury confirm that entering Sadaqa’s arena isn’t without risk.

“You’ve one hour to prepare for this evening’s entertainment,” says Cerberus as soon as we arrive back in Hell.

I check that the red welts on my body from the victor’s strap are starting to fade. The pain is now turning into a warm glow that only fuels my sexual needs. Despite the risqué nature of the entertainment provided in Hell, the patrons rarely fuck one of the entertainers. I must resign myself to remaining a virgin for a while longer.

I mentally prepare myself for another evening facing various challenges while standing on the metal rod over the pit. However, before the entertainment can begin, Helene and I are summoned to a meeting with Mistress Mercy. I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. When we arrived in Hell, Mistress Mercy made it clear that a meeting with her before we repaid our debt would be anything but pleasant. The sour look on Mistress Mercy’s face makes me fear for my life. And yet, I cannot think of anything either Helene or I have done to deserve Mistress Mercy’s wrath.

“It appears Effendi Saleem was being less than honest when I paid your ransoms,” grumbles Mistress Mercy. “You weren’t Saleem’s to sell, and now One-eyed Jack wants you back.”

I look at Helene in complete amazement. I struggle to understand what this means for our future.

“So what happens now?” asks Helene, rescuing me from a mass of confused thoughts. “What of the debt we owe you?”

“Thanks to One-eyed Jack, I have recovered what I spent on you from that weasel Saleem. You are free to leave.”

Unfortunately that isn’t as easy as it sounds. Helene and I are destitute in a foreign land with nobody to help us. We don’t even own the clothes on our backs.

“Where are we to go?” I ask. “We have no money, nor transport back to Tessal.”

“That’s not my problem,” says Mistress Mercy. “But if I were you, I would hurry to the docks where I believe there is a ship preparing to sail to Tessal on the morning tide. If you throw yourselves at the mercy of the captain, I’m sure women with your skills can strike an acceptable deal for your passage.”

“A ride for a ride,” I murmur.

“I believe the ship’s captain has a variety of tastes when it comes to women,” laughs Mistress Mercy. “You may yet return to your loved ones with your cherries still intact. Now get out of my sight, I’ve work to do.”

Helene and I don’t have any possessions to collect, so we walk straight out of Hell. Neither of us is sure how to get to the docks, but the typical pungent smell of docks the world over guides us to our destination. There’s only one ship tied up at the quay and my heart sinks at the sight before me.

“It’s the Red Hawk,” I sigh. “We’ve just jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.”

“What’s that up there?” asks Helene, pointing to a man hanging by the neck from one of the ship’s yardarms.

“Um. I think that might be Effendi Saleem. Perhaps there’s some justice in this world after all.”

A commotion on the quayside opposite the ship halts our walk towards the Red Hawk. I recognise the uniforms of the local militia, who are arguing with One-eyed Jack and his bosun.

“ ... the man was an embezzler and thief,” says One-eyed Jack. “Isn’t death the punishment for such crimes on the Island of Vices?”

“Yes,” concedes one of the militia men. “But the Pasha likes to sentence the criminal himself. And executions are normally carried out by sending the felon to the arena to die in combat.”

“Saleem was a skilful cheat and as slippery as an eel,” says One-eyed Jack. “He nearly cheated me of a substantial sum of money. I doubt he would have meekly waited for your Pasha to march him into the arena. Surely you aren’t going to pretend that the arena’s guards aren’t partial to a bribe. This way has a far more certain outcome.”

“Hmmm. There is some truth in what you say, but what am I to tell the Pasha? He will expect recompense for one of his citizens being executed without his permission.”

“I believe King Mathias is one of your Pasha’s hated enemies. If I were to tell you where Mathias is currently located with only a handful of his men, do you think the Pasha might forgive my transgression?”

“I’m fairly sure that would be an acceptable trade,” muses the militia man.

The gathering breaks up and the captain and bosun board their ship. Rightly or wrongly Helene and I follow them onto the Red Hawk.

“And where are you two lovelies going?” asks the bosun before we can step off the gangplank.

“We need passage,” I reply. “Mistress Mercy said that you might take us to Tessal.”

“And why would we do that?” asks the bosun.

“You took us from our homes, and dumped us here in the clutches of that man,” I say, pointing to the lifeless form dangling several metres above us.

“Hmm. Thought I recognised the pair of you. But what happened then was a business transaction. That doesn’t mean that we must help you now.”

“We’ll pay whatever One-eyed Jack demands for our passage,” says Helene.

I cringe at Helene’s rash offer. I would have preferred that we pretend to be less desperate. One-eyed Jack has a fearsome reputation and he could demand a price we might not be happy about paying. But it’s too late to change things now.