Chapter 7

Rain pattered down all around. Puddles formed in the dirt, overflowed, and channeled the running water into small, twisting streams that wound across open ground. Harsh salts and acids which accumulated in the bitter soil and rocky crags washed into these streams, giving off a purple tinge beneath the cloud-veiled moonlight. The acrid fumes which rendered the Wastes of Ninev inhospitable to all but the foulest form of humanity, no longer buoyed in the cooling air, sank to hover just above the ground like a thin but very poisonous fog.

The conditions imposed on the inhabitants of Ninev ate away at the skin, the eyes, the teeth... Toxins invaded the body and led to cancer and sterility. Generations of pirate-slavers had discovered this and remained. Though it may seem to defy the logic of civilized minds, why a group should choose to endure such hardship, to the pirates the reasoning was simple. Being men of less than gentle temperament, they endured the blisters and pock-marks, the stinging eyes and the rotting teeth as merely a minor irritation. They found the cancer to be benign, leaving them with little more than the occasional hacking cough or ulcer, as the fumes ate away at the linings of their lungs and stomachs. And in sterility they found an unexpected benefit: the perfect contraceptive. The thousands of slave girls they sold in every shipment were not exposed to the fumes long enough to be marred by the ill effects, and the pirates were free to enjoy the young bodies at their nightly drunken orgies without the risk of impregnation: a condition which would destroy a slave's market value.

The pirates made it their mission to collectively sample each of the thousands of their captive slaves in the short time before the ships arrived and they were taken to be sold at the secret markets on the Southern continent. In the current stock, two of the two thousand had been spared this ritual raping: one with black hair and the other with silver. They had instead been brought to Barrad's private room for his own personal use. While many of the slave girls would have longed for such comparatively gentle treatment, the two who tasted it did not display the same sentiment.

On their first night, bound hand and foot, Barrad had entered the room intent on sampling the exotic flesh of the dark haired captive. Lust filled, he had disrobed and positioned himself between the spread legs, ignoring the girl's filthy utterances of defiance. Then, when he lowered his head so he could observe his entrance into her body, she had bitten down on a mouthful of his wiry hair and pulled, ripping the hair violently from his scalp. Burning with pain and surprise, the pirate captain had raised a hand to his bleeding head and, in his moment of shock, the beautiful savage had driven a knee into his side. Her eyes had gleamed with a satisfied blood-lust as the ribs audibly cracked and the pirate rolled off her in pain.

Though bound, the two slaves had moved to finish off their captor, and almost succeeded. The one with silver hair threw her weight hard against the broken ribs, while the one with dark hair had gripped the man's neck between her knees, stemming the flow of blood to his brain. Barrad was on the point of unconsciousness when, by lucky chance, one of his pirate-guards caught the sight through the window and rushed inside. The two slaves were thrown off and against the wall as the pirate captain was helped to his feet and out of the room. That was when the beatings started.

Now the two lay cuddled together in a corner of the room, still aching from the night's beating.

"I should have killed the bastard when I had the chance," said Anna, her voice bitter.

"Shhh..." cooed Jaide softly from behind, stroking the black hair as best she could with her face; a face now bruised and battered.

"I wanted to watch him die slow... I wanted him to suffer for what he does." Anna's voice shook when she spoke, but only from anger. She seemed somehow immune to pain, and the ugly welt on her neck against her larynx did not impede her speech in the way it should have. "I could have just snapped his neck..."

"And we'd be dead," said the princess in a sharper tone. Her voice rasped properly, in agreement with the bruises on her neck and her jaw. She winced with the effort.

Anna remained silent.

"You know that, right? You know they would have killed us as soon as they found us," Jaide prompted, worry creeping into her strained voice.

"I've made too many mistakes," came the reply at length. "Are you sure you..."

"Yes," the princess interrupted, not allowing the thought to be completed.

"But..."

"Are you going to make me yell at you again? I thought we were past that." The tone carried an edge of warning this time.

Anna rolled over to face her friend, a movement that should have sent searing pain coursing through her limbs. She looked into the blue eyes, searching, seeking. She drank in the details of the face - that beautiful face! - and noted the differences between the blow of a fist and the sting of a whip across the delicate features. After a moment, she leaned in to kiss the lips - lips split and broken - and the lips kissed back.

"How can you have so much faith in me after all we've been through?" came Anna's whispered plea.

"Because of all we've been through," Jaide corrected, her eyes betraying a form of hero worship.

Anna dismissed the look, said: "I've made mistakes that could have gotten us killed."

"You're in a new world," said Anna, placing a kiss on the broken lips before her. "You learned a new language because I speak it," she continued with another kiss. "You followed me because I asked you to, you've already saved my life more than once and you just kept us from being raped." The worship continued to shine in her eyes. "In just over a week you've done more for me than anyone since my step-mother. Who cares if you made mistakes? You can't expect to be perfect."

"On my world I had to be perfect. I was designed to be perfect."

"Designed? You mean trained."

"It's the same thing. But now I'm not, I'm damaged."

"You talk about yourself like a piece of equipment!" Jaide shouted, a hoarse cry which burned her throat.

"I am."

"You're not! Goddammit, you're a human being just like I am!"

A beat.

"If I'm not functioning to best of my ability..." Anna began, but was cut off.

"Stop it!" the princess ordered, the command undeniable in her voice. "I thought you had stopped blaming yourself."

"I'm just trying to see the truth," Anna said flatly. "I don't think you should build me up so much in your head..."

"I don't build you up," said Jaide, emphasizing the words her friend had used. The role she was being forced to play obviously pained her. "My opinion of you is based on what I've seen with my own eyes." Her voice softened, though the rasping persisted. "Look, I don't know what the people who trained you, or designed you, used you for, but I want you for who you are. I never wanted you to be perfect."

"I don't know how."

"Just be the same person you've been since we met. If you feel like your training's failing you then to Hell with your training."

A long moment passed, filling both the blue eyes and the brown eyes with tears.

"Even when I was perfect," Anna said, her voice cracking for the first time, "I never had anyone believe in me as strongly as you do."

"Maybe no one ever saw you like I do."

And they kissed. It was passionate, despite the painful cuts on their lips, and salty tears poured down their cheeks and stung their still-open cuts. Both women pulled at their wrist bindings, each wishing vainly to put her hands on the other as their tongues danced. Anna's chest heaved uncontrollably as she sobbed, releasing at last all of her remaining self-doubt and bitterness; Jaide in turn cried, hoping she would be able to quit the role she had been playing and again allow her friend to lead.

"Okay," said Anna when the kiss at last had broken. "I can try."

"Are you sure? I can't have you breaking down on me once we get out of here."

With a deep breath: "Yeah I'm sure. If the princess doesn't want me to be perfect, than who am I to argue?"

"Are you making fun of me?" asked the princess with an air of put-on indignance.

"Never!" came the scoffing reply. "I'd not dream of it!"

"Good, cause if you were, you'd have to be executed." Jaide managed a smile for the first time in days.

"What would you do, kiss me to death?" With her words, Anna leaned in to kiss her friend.

"I might, don't tempt me..."

"Mmmm... what a way to go..."

They kissed again briefly, without tears this time. Outside, the rain was beginning to let up, though the splashing sounds of water could still be heard everywhere. After several moments of silence, Jaide rolled over to face the other direction and Anna cuddled up behind her; she kissed the back of the princess' neck. Jaide's fingertips, held behind her back by the bindings, touched the bare flesh of her friend's stomach.

"Something's still bothering you," said Anna quietly.

"I was thinking about yesterday."

"The boy?"

"He was a messenger from our enemy. I couldn't hear all of what he said... something about an alliance..."

"He was here to confirm the alliance between the Hai Krun and the pirates," said Anna. "He said the Hai Krun Royal Army was on its way through the forest and toward Iordantan," she continued, smiling at Jaide's look of amazement at the recitation.

"He said that Hai Lei had been drawn out and now is the time to destroy them, said the pirates should march out tomorrow to join in the attack, said they would have free slaving rights over the entire fief, so on and so forth."

"You heard all that?"

"I read their lips."

Jaide was torn between amazement and horror. "This is terrible!" she managed at last. "I knew something was up, but I had no idea either of them was getting so bold. They're actually going to attack my father's army?"

"That's what he said."

"Their going to lose..." started the princess.

"With one party of three thousand for the army and another of two thousand for the capitol."

Color drained from the princess' face at these words. "No... Our army isn't nearly that big. With that many men... Where did he get that many men?"

"I know. That's why we're going to stop them," said Anna with a new look of determination.

"You mean..."

"We're getting out of here."

"Today?"

"Today."

"Tell me how."

An hour before dawn, the rain had cleared and the fumes had risen back into the air. The ice rings gleamed yellow in the East in an otherwise dark sky in anticipation of the sun, and the surf pounding on the nearby coast could be heard as the tide began to rise. All around came the splashing of feet in leftover puddles and the clanks of harnesses as the pirates prepared their horse-drawn wagons. Through the untidy bustle walked Barrad Dain, talking angrily with another pirate.

"What'he fuck were they thinkin?" he shouted, drawling more than usual. He winced at his outburst and brought a hand gingerly to his ribs, now heavily wrapped.

The other man spluttered in reply.

Barrad calmed himself in pain and continued, "Those're good fighting men, we could've used 'em t'day." He strode across the compound towards a man who appeared about to drop from nervousness, and said to him, "You! You're the one who came back?"

"Y... yes"

"Who let'y out las' night?"

"It was Gramel, cap'n," came the stuttering reply.

"Go fin' Gramel and kill'im," said Barrad, his voice laced with threat. "Then kill yerself."

The pirate captain turned and walked away without waiting to see whether his orders would be carried out. He suspected they would not, not that he could blame the man. Something he would have to deal with later. He shook his head in amazement as the man who had accompanied him hurried to catch up. The stupidity of these damned pirates! They made excellent fighters - the harshness of their lives made them tougher than most soldiers - but they seemed to have no grasp of tactics or strategy. They followed his leadership when it suited them, but when it did not, there was no telling what they would do.

On more than one occasion the pirate rabble had gotten itself into trouble by ignoring their captain's instructions.

Just the night before, forty men armed themselves and left on foot, hoping to take the reportedly approaching army by surprise. Barrad, after giving them the information, had warned them all to patience and caution. They would strike, yes.

They would hold up their end of the alliance and in turn gain an entirely unprotected fief to harvest, thousands upon thousands of beautiful forest girls, free for the taking. Barrad knew such an attack required coordination: the pirates would strike the army from the East while the Hai Krun struck from the West. They would wait until dawn and then attack, exactly as they had planned. Now Barrad had to carry out the plan with forty less men than he had intended, all because they had stupidly set out on their own with the gleam of gold and young flesh in their eyes.

By the time the sun had risen, two hundred and fifty fully armed pirates were rolling out of the compound toward the West atop their wagons. Not enough to take the army from the Hai Lei - how many men did they bring, Barrad wondered. A thousand?

Two thousand? - but more than enough to cause a stinging distraction while the allied host of three thousand seized upon them from the opposite direction. The pirate captain glanced at the ugly faces around him, wondered how many of them had stayed behind last night because they followed his orders or because they were too drunk to go anywhere. He suspected the latter. With a groan, he held his shattered ribs as the wagon he was riding bounced through ruts in the dirt road and over surfaced tree roots.

Orman yawned, stretched in the early morning dampness. Having slept fitfully after hours of useless questioning, he rose and started taking down and packing his rain shelter. Grass-fiber was an amazing material, he decided; seemingly impervious to wind and rain, the solider-captian remained dry through the worst of the storm. The cloth and poles stowed, he grasped the foot of his bedding and began to roll; it was a tight roll, even and square at the edges, leaving the smallest possible volume attached to the bottom of his pack. Around him, his soldiers were mirroring his own actions, striking the camp while guards patrolled the perimeter.

Not given to late rising, Orman would have preferred to begin the march at least an hour earlier. On that point, he would have preferred continuing the march from the previous night with no stop, but the attacking pirates forced upon him a change of plan. What was their purpose? He shook his head; if he could get no answers from the band before, he had no reason to think he would that morning. He walked toward the squad standing guard over the captives, catching the scent of those who had urinated and defecated on themselves in their bindings.

"Do we have five yet?" he asked the sergeant.

"Not yet, sir. They're not saying nothing."

"You don't want to choose for yourselves?" he asked, turning to the bound slavers. Thirty pairs of eyes returned his questioning gaze with a glare. "Then I will." Turning back to the sergeant, he said, "Let's just use those there," he pointed.

"Sir, that's only four."

"Then four's what we'll take," he shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me. Get the rest of them lined up."

"Sir."

The squad moved to obey, not bothering to handle the condemned prisoners to with any sense of respect or kindness. Soon, twenty-six filthy men with pock-marked skin were herded into the village and bound to a section of fence that was still intact. They were bound standing, but some of them sagged against the ropes. The early morning sunlight against a cloudless blue sky stood in stark contrast to the scene which was beginning to unfold. Twenty-six soldiers walked forward, faces somber, to stand ten paces in front of each of the captives.

"Prisoners: stand up!" called Orman.

The sagging pirates made no attempt comply.

"Those who do not stand will receive an arrow through the neck and die slowly."

"Fer th' spoils," said one of the pirates. Several others nodded, sharing the sentiment. "Fer th' spoils!" they cried in a messy unison. Each bound pirate straightened himself, standing erect against the wooden rails of the fence, and glared down their executioners.

"Very well," said Orman. "By your own actions you condemn yourselves to this fate. May God have mercy on your souls."

At a nod, twenty-six bows raised, strung tight, arrows notched. With a silent shared breath, the soldiers drew back the strings and loosed them. A thumping sound rippled down the line as twenty-six pirates slumped, never again to slaughter innocent farmers, to rob from them their lives and their daughters. Orman sighed; men moved in to collect the dead men, unbind them and pile their bodies together. Overhead, a solitary screeching cry echoed across the clearing.

Pain!

Cries from all around. Orman looked down in shock at the arrow shaft that pierced his arm, warm blood spurting over his hand. Though it felt like an eternity, only a split second actually passed before the cry rang out.

"Down!" yelled Orman, ignoring the throbbing. "We're under attack! Return fire!"

As his men moved to cover and counter, he walked almost calmly toward his pack, ignoring the hail of arrows flying in from the trees. Another surprise attack? More pirates? Clenching his jaw, he wrenched the arrow from his arm and ripped a piece of his rain shelter, yet to be packed, to stem the flow of blood. He grasped his spear with his good arm and his knife with the injured one, turning with cold fury in his eyes. He caught a glimpse of one pirate who was not crouched down, standing back out of the range of arrows, tall and proud; strange, he looked familiar...

"All squads forward!" he called out.

There were more than forty attackers this time; it would take much more than six squads to fight them. He watched as two hundred soldiers crawled forward on their knees and elbows, releasing arrow after arrow as they went. Several of the men were not crawling; he could see pools of blood forming beneath them.

They were closing quickly. At that range, the pirates were pinned down, unable to return any serious fire.

"Hold and charge!" came Orman's shout, sounding more like a battle cry and less like an order.

The captain ran forward as his men jumped to their feet around him, abandoning their bows for spears and knives. As the soldiers charged forward, the pirates leapt up out of the trees - so many of them! The soldiers saw they were outnumbered at once, hesitated, until their captain rushed passed them with a ready spear. They heard his call, rushed forward to meet their aggressors, the battle-lust upon them again.