The Vera Chronicles Page 11

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Vera battles for her life in Davamas' lair.
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Part 11 of the 18 part series

Updated 10/29/2022
Created 10/16/2008
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After she was washed and wiped dry, a couple of the women used combs of crude wood to groom her hair. The mood was subdued and a polar opposite of the fuck party just a short time ago. Despite the fact that they had, as a group, ravaged and pleasured themselves with her; there was still some fear and fascination for this large, hairless female. She had killed quite a few of them and; according to the raiding party; was as strong and vicious as a masa in heat! It wasn't her blood that was washed from her body.

One of Nallas' guards had entered the chamber after the orgy and admonished the males to be more cautious with the large woman. "She's vicious and dangerous! She might fuck good but she fights better, I saw her tear Vaggas' arm off and dash his brains out!"

A half dozen guards were positioned around her now with weapons at the ready. Little good it would do them when she decided to make her move. A 'subroutine' of [SITUATIONAL ANALYSIS] was playing out strategies in her mind, plotting and calculating each move she would make; playing them in vivid detail as she calmly assessed this situation. She knew that [SITUATIONAL ANALYSIS] could be used with [COMBAT PROTOCOL] to manage her ability to inflict mayhem. Vera sat quietly as the women combed her hair. She amused herself by initiating eye contact with the guards, calmly appraising each one until he looked away. Their fear of her was intense and growing. That was good, she needed an edge.

More memories of her previous life were occurring to her now, short flashes that teased her amnesia. She saw faces, human faces like hers, speaking in a familiar language -- Galach Standard. Dravo had told her the name of it. He said some of the traders he'd met used it among themselves. He couldn't converse with her in it, but he could recognize it when he heard it spoken. It was her primary tongue; it's sounds and shapes were the language she heard in her thoughts.

She remembered other places: vistas of grey skies and greyer land. Green rivers that snaked lazily through blue jungles. Images of cities, huge towers surrounded by sprawling settlements. Some of the inhabitants of these places looked like her, others were similar, and others were so different she wasn't sure what they were. She put those thoughts on hold for now. She needed to focus on freeing herself, killing as many of them as necessary, and rescuing Salema. She hoped Dravos' arrival would be soon. Situational analysis strongly recommended a distraction/diversion that would allow her to go into action with a few seconds of surprise. Even with a distraction, she would need to act at the right moment. She flexed the wet leather bonds and locked eyes with the head guard. The straps could be easily removed when she was ready. The guard looked away as Nallas' two guards entered the chamber.

"Stand, prisoner, Davama is ready for you now."

She was led into a larger cave that was Davamas' throne room.

A fire burned in the center and torches were placed around its walls. She was forced to her knees facing a stout monkeyman seated on a carved bench that was the throne. It was Davama, she was sure of it. He looked older than Dravo but she knew from Dravos' conversations that he was several years younger than her monkeylord lover. He regarded Vera without expression.

Nalla lounged on the right arm of the carved throne. She winked.

The headsman of the hill tribes regarded her silently as the chamber filled with monkeyfolk. A pair of archers were stationed to the left of the throne and she saw another pair in a passageway on the right. She didn't know if there was another pair behind her but she had to factor it into her situational evaluation.

Combat scenarios were reeling nonstop in her mind now. A familiar voice was giving her advice: she needed to follow operational instructions for optimal advantage.

[INITIATE GLOBAL REBOOT]

"What is a 'GLOBAL REBOOT', She wondered?

[PASSWORD]

Password, there was a tingle of recognition when she heard or thought that word! A password was a word that allowed 'access'. The thought had flowed into her awareness.

Davama was strutting across the floor to confront her. He drew his sword and placed the tip on her breast. The cool sharp edge cut her skin and a drop of blood ran down her left breast. He used the edge of the blade to deftly scoop the drop and held it out for all to see.

"She bleeds!" He held the sword higher and shouted: "DRAVOS' WHORE BLEEDS!!"

The shouts and cheers in the cavern were deafening. He'd broken the spell and was now in control. He brought the sword back for a measured blow -- at her neck. The crowd of monkeyfolk was silenced. She couldn't wait any longer: she thought:

[INITIATE COMBAT PROTOCOL]

[PASSWORD]

A cruel, hateful smile was on Davamas' face! His eyes were bright! The crowd held its breath in wide-eyed anticipation! He was going to cut her head off! He slowly drew the blade back and wrapped his left hand on the hilt. His grip tightened. Vera dropped the bindings and flung herself back at the last instant, arms wide and fists backstriking the pair of guards behind her. She crushed one's throat and felt the others teeth fold into his mouth.

Davama stumbled at his empty stroke! Vera seized him around the chest and snapped his neck. She knelt quickly holding his body with one arm in the path of the oncoming arrows from the archers next to the throne. She snatched his sword in her other hand and slashed at the guards and some brave monkey folk who were closing at her back. The blade severed flesh and bone more than once -- it was a good feeling! One of the throne archers fell with an arrow through his throat and the other clawed at an arrow in his chest!

She saw Roga the scout dropping a crossbow and aiming another at a target behind her. She whirled and hurled Davamas' body at the rear of the hall. It connected with an archer who'd drawn a bead on Roga. She followed the body and was ready to behead the lone archer who was taking aim at her when an arrow passed through his left eye to lodge in his skull plate!

The throne room was in pandemonium as the monkeyfolk sought refuge from the huge blonde fury in their midst! She reached the archer who'd been leveled by Dravamas' body and sliced him in half as he fumbled for his knife. She spun low and sliced the legs from a pair of guards. Their screams were added to the panic and terror. Someone closed with her and parried as she thrust.

"Dravo!"

(to be continued)

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