Kismet Ch. 09byTE999©
Farisa awakened as the morning sun shone past the partially open door. She gently slipped out of Afsoon's embrace and padded to the entrance expecting their breakfast had been delivered. What she found was something wrapped in a blanket lying beside two lances of the type carried by General Risay's Palace Guard.
She quickly hid the items behind a drapery and shook Afsoon gently saying "Afsoon, wake up, a mysterious bundle has been placed at our door."
"Mmmhh ... good morning my love ... what's this about a bundle?"
"I found it when I went looking for our breakfast and hid it away. There were two guardsman lances as well. Something must be happening within the General's compound and we're involved."
"This is all very odd. Let us wait until our breakfast has been served, then we will examine this bundle."
Delbar feigned sleep as a slave girl busied herself tiding the woman's quarters and preparing her clothing for the day. In actuality, she had been awake before sunrise gathering the items for Afsoon and Farisa's escape and placing them inside the entrance to their quarters. The note she had written to them spelled out what they needed to do that evening; it was now a matter of waiting until dark and hoping they would not be discovered.
Having finished breakfast and opened the mysterious bundle, Farisa examined the contents while Afsoon read the enclosed note.
"Ha! This is indeed a well-balanced blade," Farisa said, taking a few short swings with one of the two scimitars in the bundle. "It shall drink deep of the blood of anyone who opposes us. And these lances; they are not unlike those my father and I used to hunt the lion."
"We are to wait until after the evening prayers are sung," Afsoon read aloud, "Then don these robes, gather our weapons and make our way through the compound to behind the grain bins near the main gate where we will be met by someone who will help us escape."
"These daggers are well crafted, perfect for throwing," Farisa continued, "And these sandals are of the finest cured leather, soft as a mothers touch. I cannot wait for the evening to come."
"Someone has gone to a considerable amount of trouble to insure our escape," Afsoon replied, "Even our robes fit perfectly and the hoods will conceal our faces. I wonder if my father the Sultan is behind this."
"Whoever is behind this may the gods smile upon them," Farisa said, then paused and looked at Afsoon. "We may not survive this attempt to escape and if we are opposed we will have to fight. Are you prepared to do battle, my love?"
Afsoon swallowed hard and her jaw tightened. "I am no stranger to the battle arts. I was always intrigued by my father's guardsmen when they were practicing with their weapons and one day when Mother was engaged elsewhere I asked them to show me how to fight with scimitar and lance.
At first they laughed and said battle was man's work, but I persevered until they agreed to train me in a clandestine manner. They must have been taken with my looks and my boldness because if what they were doing was ever discovered, they would have been whipped and disgraced, possibly executed."
"True warriors have a rebellious streak in them," Farisa chuckled.
"I slipped away whenever I could and practiced with them all they taught me. I knew Mother would be furious had she known what I was up to, which added spice to the entire undertaking."
"I sensed your own spirit of rebellion when we first met," Farisa replied. "We are kindred souls you and I. It is yet another reason why I love you."
They embraced and kissed, and then Afsoon continued "Other than cuts, bumps and bruises taken and given with practice weapons, I have never really drawn blood or killed anyone. I can only hope I have the strength and resolve to engage in a real battle to the death."
Farisa hugged her, "You possess the inner strength, dear Afsoon. Know that we are fighting for our dignity, our freedom and our very lives. That alone should give you courage."
"I am protecting you as well, my love," Afsoon replied. "I shall fight like a tiger in that case. Let us practice with our weapons until it is time to go to the baths."
"I tell you. Ahmed, something is going on with those two," Oadira grumbled. "Look at them, playing in the water so happily. No one is ever that happy unless they're up to something."
Ahmed sighed; he'd heard it all before. "Look Oadira," he piped, clasped hands resting on his immense stomach, "Not everyone is as unhappy as you are. You are no longer the General's favorite so reconcile yourself to it. In life there is always someone smarter, faster and prettier to displace you. Fortunately," he chuckled, "I do not have that problem," he patted the laboriously sharpened scimitar at his side, "My friend here will deal with any such eventuality."
"Chide me if you will," she replied disgustedly, "But we would do well to keep a watch on them. I'm convinced they mean trouble."
The mournful cries of the muezzin calling the evening prayers had barely died away when Afsoon and Farisa, garbed and armed, left their quarters. Evading the occasional sentry, they crept cautiously through the dimly moonlit compound. Lights flickered here and there, voices were raised in delight and anger and the night birds were calling as the women arrived at the place of meeting. There was no one there.
"Could this be a trap," Farisa muttered. "I will not be taken alive."
"Nor shall I," Afsoon replied, "Let us wait awhile and see who appears."
With that, they heard the 'Chuff, Chuff' of hooves on the sand. A stable boy appeared leading two saddled Arabian horses, handed them the reins and ran away into the night.
"These are from the General's own stable," Afsoon said. "They bear the ear notches of his personal mounts. How did ...?"
"Enough chatter," Farisa replied, "let us put many dunes between us and this cursed place."
"How will we pass through the gates ...?" Afsoon began.
"I knew you two were up to something," said a voice from the shadows. "Stealing the General's horses is a crime punishable by beheading."
Oadira stepped into the pale moonlight carrying a scimitar. "I will be well rewarded by the General for capturing you two," she continued, grinning evilly, "I will once again be the General's chosen one after you are food for the vultures."
"Begone foolish woman," Farisa snarled. "We will not be stopped by the likes of you. Besides, we are two to your one."
"Allow me to even the odds," Oadira laughed, "Ahmed, to me."
Abruptly, the massive bulk of the eunuch appeared beside her, his immense scimitar clutched in one pudgy hand. "I have no desire to hurt you," he piped, "Lay down your weapons. The General in his benevolence may let you off with thirty lashes."
"If you want these weapons, come and get them," Afsoon purred. "Death would be preferable to living as a sex slave to that madman."
"My blade thirsts for blood," Farisa added. "Come closer and allow it to drink deep of yours."
A curse on her lips, Oadira sprang towards Farisa, aiming a vicious cut at the woman's legs which was speedily parried and she leapt back from an equally vicious counter slash.
"I do not wish to hurt you," whined the giant, advancing on Afsoon. "Surrender and I will spare your life."
"I will not yield, Ahmed," she replied. "I shall die first."
"Then die!" he screeched, the deadly blade whistling at her head. She ducked and swung her blade at the eunuch's pillar-like leg, opening a deep cut in his thigh. Enraged, the giant charged, sweeping the scimitar before him weaving a web of death.
Afsoon parried blow after blow, each impact making her wince with pain, but still slashing at her opponent whenever there was an opening.
Bleeding from several wounds, the eunuch pressed home the attack, knocking Afsoon sprawling and grazing her head, arm and shoulder. She scrambled to her feet and continued the duel, her scimitar becoming heavier with each blow she deflected from the punishing blade. She caught her foot in a depression in the sand and fell backwards, losing her grip on her weapon. She gritted her teeth as the giant stood over her, his blade gleaming in the moonlight, and prepared to die.
"You were one of the prettiest ones," he chirped, "The General will reward me handsomely for this." He lifted the blade high above his head when ...
A red flower blossomed in Ahmed's mouth followed by a spurt of blood and shattered teeth. The giant tottered and fell forward onto the sand, his immense body barely missing Afsoon where she lay.
"Afsoon, my child, are you alright?" said Delbar coming forward, a smoking pistol in her hand.
"Delbar," Afsoon cried, "What are you doing here?"
"Aiding your escape of course," the woman smiled, helping Afsoon to her feet. "We must hurry. This racket must have alerted the sentries."
"But how ..." Afsoon began, then saw Farisa standing over Oadira's body, a rivulet of scarlet flowing down her arm. "My love," she exclaimed, rushing to her side, "You are wounded."
"I have had worse," Farisa replied. "This daughter of a hyena fought well, but in the end ..." Afsoon looked down and shuddered; Oadira's head was nearly severed from her body.
Delbar quickly bound Farisa and Afsoon's wounds and the women mounted their horses.
"May the gods find favor with you, Delbar," Farisa said. "We owe you our lives."
"Yes," Afsoon continued, "How will we ever repay you?"
"Others will see to that," Delbar said with a grin, "Now be off before the guards arrive."
"But the gates ..." Afsoon said.
"It is taken care of, now be swift."
She waited until the women had disappeared into the shadows, placed the pistol in a pool of blood from Oadira's corpse and scurried away as the first sentries arrived on the run.
Riding at full gallop, the women found the massive wood and iron gates to the compound opened wide enough for a horse and rider to pass through; the gatekeepers guard house was dark. They sped out across the desert expecting an alarm to be raised, but no sounds were heard.
"There are water skins and sacks of food hung on these saddles," Afsoon said as they slowed to a canter after miles of fast riding. "Delbar thought of everything."
"Indeed she did," Farisa replied. "Where shall we go, my love?"
"I am not sure," was the reply. "We need to find a place for the horses to rest and get our bearings."
"Give the horses their head," Farisa suggested. "They will smell an oasis much easier than we can."
"Good idea," Afsoon said, letting the reins hang loose in her hand. "It will be daylight soon and we should be out of sight before then. When Risay discovers we are missing he will send his soldiers to search for us."
"Let them come," Farisa muttered, "They shall not find us easy prey."
"Two riders, Mustapha," said the pudgy man with the salt and pepper beard as he lowered the battered spyglass. "They wear unadorned robes the color of sand, but their horses are of excellent quality; the result of some careful breeding no doubt."
"They will bring an excellent price at the bazaar, Dakhil," Mustapha replied. "What else do you see?"
"They are provisioned for travel, their saddles are well crafted and ... by the beard of the Prophet, they are women!"
"Women, here, what foolishness is this? You must be mistaken."
"I am not mistaken. One is light skinned, the other a Nubian, they ride unveiled and carry weapons."
"We shall see about this. Tell the others to mount and we shall meet these strangers."
"Riders approaching," Afsoon said, reining in her mount.
"They do not appear to be the General's troops," Farisa replied.
"I would guess bandits, probably after our horses."
"And us. Shall we attack?"
"Let us wait until they come closer."
"I count seven. Our lances will deal with two; we'll take the rest in turn."
"Three are circling behind us."
"Then we shall attack those facing us first. Are you prepared to fight?"
"I am. I have a plan. When I shout 'Now', we'll cast off our robes."
"It is good; this slows my sword arm anyhow."
"Wait until they get a little closer, then when drop our robes, we'll throw our lances and charge them."
"I want that fat one on the brown horse."
"The one wearing the blue turban seems to be the leader, I'll try for him."
"Ugh, they are a filthy lot."
"Closer ... closer ... Now!"
"Why do they not flee, Mustapha? Because they realize we have them surrounded?"
"Paralyzed with fear no doubt, now we have the women to sell to the bargain."
"I wish to sample the Nubian wench before we ... URK!"
Pierced through the chest by Farisa's lance, Dakhil tumbled from his saddle and fell heavily to the sand. His horse reared in fright scattering the remaining riders.
Afsoon had aimed at Mustpha, but in the sudden confusion her lance found the rider to his left. It slashed through his upper thigh and into his mount. Maddened with pain, the horse bucked and began to run, throwing the man from the saddle. Pinned like an insect to a board, he swung beneath the galloping horse and was pounded into bloody rags by the flashing hooves.
Stunned by the suddenness of the attack and the sight of two nude women charging them with scimitars held high, the remaining bandits scattered in panic, but then Afsoon and Farisa were among them, blades flashing.
Two men toppled from their saddles spurting blood, limbs all but severed by the razor sharp blades. The others attempted to rally and fight, but their hearts were not in it.
"They are not women; they are evil Djinni," Mustapha screamed, "Make haste before they send us all to a flaming hell."
The women watched as the remaining bandits and the riderless horses galloped away and were lost to sight among the dunes.
They drew together, kissed and shared a sweaty embrace.
"You fought well, my darling," Afsoon said.
"As did you, my love," Farisa replied. "Let us see if this carrion has anything of value and be on our way."
Afsoon dismounted and began to tremble, then vomited explosively.
Farisa rushed to her side "Are you hurt?"
Afsoon coughed and spat then replied "I am not hurt. I have taken men's lives, Farisa. I have committed murder. This is horrible, horrible" and she began to cry.
Farisa held her as she sobbed saying "It is always a shock when you take a life, especially the first time. When I was young, I killed a trader with the knife I carried. He had tried to rape me and I cried for days. When I told my father what I had done, what he told me was wise. He said no one desires to take a life, but when you are threatened it is your life or theirs. You must protect yourself no matter what the cost and let no one tell you differently."
Afsoon hugged Farisa and sighed "You are right my love. Those bandits would have used us for sex until they grew tired of us, then either killed us or sold us as slaves. We were right in defending ourselves. It was the killing I did so readily ... it was as if I was someone else."
"The battle lust resides deep within us all," Farisa replied, brushing the tears from Afsoon's cheeks, "We are always shaken when it awakens in times of danger, but it is there so we have strength to fight for our lives if we are threatened."
Afsoon closed her eyes and nodded in assent. When she had drunk some water and recovered her composure, they began searching the bodies.
"A purse filled with Drachma on the fat one," Farisa announced. "We will need clothing when we reach a settlement. We will dress as fine ladies."
"Nothing of use on that one," Afsoon replied, wincing at the sight of the corpse's gory wound. "Now let us see this other ... Aha! Look at this, Farisa."
"Oh that is beautiful. Is it gold?"
"Indeed it is and it will look beautiful about your neck."
"Then place it there, my sweet."
Afsoon fastened the fine chain of the pendant around Farisa's ebony neck and nuzzled her.
"It seems an age since we made love, my flower."
"I ache for your touch. Let us hope we find a place to rest soon."
"This is an odd engraving on this pendant; dragons rampant on a crest of sword and shield."
"They must have stolen it from a person of some influence, possibly a Sultan."
"It is yours by right of combat. Let us be off before the sun sets."
As night fell, the horses found an oasis. The women bathed happily in a pool of water, ate heartily of the Dates, Figs and Pomegranates that grew there, then spread their robes upon the warm sand and lay back, content.
Before long, their desire for one another asserted itself. They lay together, hugging and kissing, relishing their freedom and their love for one another.
Farisa slid her hand between Afsoon's silken thighs, purring "I wish to pleasure you, my darling."
"As I do you," Afsoon replied. "Turn and lay across me, we shall pleasure each other."
Farisa straddled Afsoon's head, lowered her wet pussy to her lover's velvet tongue, bent forward and began licking Afsoon's moist slit. They enjoyed each other as the cool night crept in behind the last rays of the disappearing sun; they needed no light for their lovemaking as they knew the others body as their own.
Slowly, languorously, they licked, nibbled and sucked each other, reaching the brink of orgasm several times, then retreating, wanting to prolong the pleasure as long as possible. Finally Afsoon could take no more and began finger fucking Farisa and sucking on her throbbing clit. Farisa did the same to Afsoon and soon they climaxed powerfully and together, their cries of ecstasy smothered in their lovers pink flesh. They drank greedily of the others cum until their mouths overflowed and lay together exhausted.
Then they cuddled and slept, the night breezes cooling their sweaty bodies.
When the morning sun rose, the women bathed again, breakfasted on the fruits of the oasis, filled their water sacks, picked fruit to carry with them and set off toward the rising sun. As they traveled on, they saw no one all day, plodding onward towards they knew not what. They only knew they were together and they were free.
The sun was below it's zenith when the crackle of gunfire caused them to rein in. Advancing cautiously toward the crest of a dune, they saw eight men crouching in a pit of sand, virtually encircled by a much larger group of men as they exchanged fire with pistols and rifles.
"Those men surrounded appear to be guardsmen of some sort," Farisa said. "Once they are out of ammunition they are doomed."
"Their black turbans and waistcoats are very familiar ..." Afsoon began. "I remember now, those are my father's personal army, The Black Legion. They protect the kingdom against attack and are widely feared."
"Those men attacking them are not showing fear," Farisa replied, "They appear to outnumber them four to one."
"What do you think we should do?" Afsoon asked her companion.
"Even the odds, I suppose. If those are your father's warriors, we should help them if we can. Are you prepared for this, my love?"
Afsoon took a deep breath, sat up straighter in the saddle and nodded. "Yes. I am. Let us remove our robes and tie them to our packs. Going to battle in our skins worked before and the robes only hinder us in a fight."
"My thoughts, exactly," Farisa replied. "If we attack from that dune over there, we will be behind most of them and have the advantage of surprise."
Removing their robes, they trotted to the base of the dune, made their way to the crest, waited until another volley was exchanged and rode down upon the aggressors, shouting battle cries. Shots whistled past them and then they were among the riflemen, blades slashing, severing flesh from bone and limbs from bodies, howling in a frenzy of battle lust.