Avarice Desperation Valley Ch. 06

However nothing could have prepared him for the contents of the gauze covered wagon. Exercising caution Aran pulled the filmy curtains aside, stunned at the beautiful apparition within. Dawn's pale glow now enhancing the colors of the desert, the startling woman took his breath away, her pale, delicate form frozen with fear. She did not move from amongst her bed of braided finery, her long unbound hair cascaded wildly over her milky flesh to settle spilling on the numerous silk pillows. Her golden jewelry glinting against her soft inviting breast. Nothing but dire terror in her amazing indigo eyes.

Aran at once deduced that he had stumbled across something very special, unspoiled, and immensely valuable to someone, but who? It looked as though their unfortunate male captive would have to be persuaded to talk sooner rather than later. Instinct telling him that it was obvious she had been bound for the city beyond. A bride perhaps, or someone's valued daughter. Elation filled him then with the realization that possibly they had at last discovered a way in. Bennett would be pleased, he would most certainly be rewarded with first choice of the women, and a winning smile crossed his handsome face.

It was then she screamed, shattering his reverie, and with this she made to flee. Aran's quick reflexes and muscular arms pinning her in a second. He held her close, delighting in her delicious heady scent, and wildly beating heart, her breath coming in panicked gasps. Like a frightened bird she was, so vulnerable, so beautiful. For the first time Aran felt true desire, tearing at his control, disarming his ability to command. God he thought, never had he laid eyes on such an alluring creature, perhaps tasting the spoils now would not be such a bad idea after all.

The rest of the wild rabble had by this time assembled closely about him, all there eager to admire what he had found. Giving voice to their base desires as their terror stricken female captives huddled together evading their touches, expecting nothing but the worst to come. The men's hard eyes glinting at the heavenly pleasures all knew would shortly follow. As was the usual policy within the group, all the women would be shared, naturally the commanding men would have first use of the spoils. Then they would be handed around as communal concubines, well used by all the sex starved men.

As Aran was about to give the eagerly anticipated permission for all there to sate their lusts, his own personal needs now clouding his better judgment. His maleness already responding to her exquisite, soft, perfumed form as he held her immobilized, pressed tantalizingly close, her shaking exciting him all the more.

The old campaigner Gareth had seen it all before, and fortunately for Aran had the presence of mind, and common sense to step forward as dual commander of the party. His loud, gruff voice boomed. "We will touch none of them until Bennett returns, as I am dead sure that he will want em intact, at least until he says otherwise." At this edict erupted much dissension, though Aran knew better than to disagree despite his body's needs, which by this stage were howling at him to be sated. Reluctantly it was agreed that none would violate their terrified prizes, who now huddled miserably around their gorgeous mistress. As the men turned their attentions to the contents of the cart, and the sole surviving male captive.

Aran was not always a cruel man by nature, though he could be. His elder brother Sven was much harder than he, though he was growing more callous with each passing year. Consequently Aran did not relish the prospect of torturing a prisoner for information, as many of Bennett's crew did. As commander of this expedition though this sordid duty now fell to him, and he was expected along with Gareth to carry out the brutal task. Sensing the raw fear in the man's eyes as the pair of them advanced on their helpless victim. Aran praying that he could get this messy business over with quickly, whilst to Gareth it was just another job.

The cool of evening was beginning to close in, and a small cooking fire had recently been lit. Nearby a pool of congealed blood, starkly dark against the sand the only trace of the man who had revealed so much tantalizing information. Aran's head was in a spin, for this event was totally unprecedented. Not only had they intercepted the intended bride of the Warlord of the fortified city, along with her considerable dowry, but they had also learned of a rich farming settlement further away to the southeast, and by all accounts easy pickings.

In light of all this new intelligence it was decided that the group would make the four day journey back to base. Besides there was not much more to be learned here, and the risk of detection by armed patrols remained high. After a short rest and a sparse meal all the booty was loaded onto the horses as none there could ride. The four young women sat quietly in the cart, mute with dread as they set off for the unknown beneath a velvet, star scattered sky.

Sleeping the dreamless sleep of the dead, Carlos woke long after sun up, needing desperately to urinate. The simple act of leaving his bed an effort of Herculean proportions, stiff and pained as he was. The heavy chain clinking loudly as he dragged its leaden length across the steel floor, his bruised body unwilling and slow. Relief came gushing quickly between the two steel buildings, still he felt pained and weak. An acute thirst now raging within he realized, as his other pressing need was met. Unfortunately the chain did not have the reach to allow him to draw water from the well, and the usually full water container obviously had not been filled by Raissa in days. Discovering this he was left with little alternative but to sit in the cabin's still shaded doorway, where he took stock of the damage done, not at all liking what he saw. He would heal in time, worse though, the nagging ache of his tightly bound ribs, forcing him to move and breathe with care.

He sighted Raissa now from where he sat, along with big Lucy, and the awkward Warren, all engaged in conversation that he could not decipher over the strident bleats of the nearby flock of goats. Well, this would be his lot from now on, and he was seriously unhappy. In his headlong rush to escape this place he had never dreamed that his failure to do so would condemn him to this. If he thought of himself as a prisoner before, then this was ten times worse.

Five still, heat filled days had passed, with Bennett reluctantly giving the order for the majority of the men to ready themselves, as they would depart for the fortified city this dusk. It was now shortly before sunset, the entire encampment full of frenzied activity, as men checked and sharpened their weapons, making ready for the trek south and subsequent action to follow.

The golden sunset's last illumination radiant on Bennett. Raissa shaving his head deftly, cut throat razor in hand, at the periphery of the gaping mouth of the great cave, as he sat still as stone. While she did this he was engaged in great contemplation, uneasy over his two nagging problems. Both seeming at this juncture quite unsolvable, but desperately needing to be reckoned with and soon.

He was becoming uncharacteristically anxious, still no sure fire plan of attack had surfaced in his usually cunning head. He had stalled for as long as it seemed prudent, hoping inspiration would come. Still it did not eventuate, despite his many long private discussions with Sven. Inaction dogging his every hour, he could hardly admit to his men that as yet he still had no plan of attack. They would interpret their leader's inaction as weakness, jeopardizing all he had fought for during these bloody and difficult years. Knowing this he would leave tonight, trusting that a plan of assault would present itself sometime in the next few days.

Raissa's firm yet gentle touch felt good, despite the fact she was only a woman. Causing him to dwell somewhat ruefully on why he could not get that from another. His well built captive springing at once to mind. His thoughts meandered back some seven years distant, when Carlos had first come into his life. Just a thin, half starved youth, angular, yet promising much handsomeness, dark, and intense. Although he could have been little more then just eighteen, the lad had fought like a demon possessed to evade capture. All there wanting to waste him for sadistic sport, however Bennett had other plans.

Wasting no time, much to his warriors dismay, in taking the boy to his bed. Delighting in the fight to achieve this new and exciting conquest, with the fiery Carlos resisting all the way. Bennett loved this sport, coupled with his superior build, and age difference, assured every time, night time dominance of his unwilling prize. This situation continued, at least for a while, but the young man's strength increased as he grew to maturity, making Bennett's sport more difficult. Finding at this moment he had to resort to other, somewhat crueler means in an effort to make him obey. Until now he had been satisfied, despite the occasional drama, but since that fateful confrontation things were not the same, but what to do? Again the impossible question. He had lost his temper with his pet, realizing he could not afford to do that again, else the object of his desire may fast lose his value.

He had decided to try yesterday evening, the attempt had not gone well. Being the first time he had returned to his abode since he had observed Raissa at her healing work. As brutal and hardened as he was he registered surprise as he took in disheveled, damaged mess of his slave. At first Carlos refused to acknowledge his mighty presence. Immobile he sat some distance from the doorway, basking in the last of the sun's warm rays, staring vacantly at the rock face beyond. Bennett stood for some time not at all used to being unacknowledged, admiring his slave's athletic back, eyes wandering lower in appreciation of the slim waist. Unashamedly delighting in the vision of his well proportioned youth, arousal pressing forward like high tide. Still Carlos chose not to move a muscle, this ignorant defiance rising at once to burn Bennett's pride. He was leader here, not to be denied, least of all by his own property. Who by now should know his duty.

Impatiently Bennett reached for the chain, but Carlos was ready. White light exploded before his vision, the chain connecting forcefully with Bennett's temple. Instantly inciting the huge man to anger, as he caught hold of the chain mid swing, giving it an almighty jerk. Carlos fell winded to the ground, scrambling in the loose sand for a footing, which he failed to find. Bennett was on him in an instant, applying suffocating pressure to his throat with the slack length of chain he had commandeered.

The struggle ended swiftly, but not satisfyingly for Bennett, who found that his desire had lost much of its previous intensity. Still he hauled his beaten victim into the dark sanctum of his cabin, dumping him on the bed. The light was failing fast, and for a long time he just sat in the battered wooden chair at the desk listening to his prisoners ragged breathing, interspersed with the occasional pained cough. Neither man said a word, the inky black finally closing in about them...

His musings were abruptly cut short, by a shout from one of the sentries posted high above. Rising from his stone perch immediately, with Raissa almost nicking him in the process. Her job done, as usual she was eager to be away. Sven hurriedly joined Bennett, emerging from his rest at the rear of the cave, and in unison the two imposing men made their way toward the westward end of the valley, followed by a large contingent of armed warriors in their wake. As they reached the valley's far end the shadows loomed dark and long, jagged ironstone crags in silhouette, jutting skyward like the teeth of some hellish denizen. The sun just dipping below the barren horizon, firing the west in red.

Bennett spotted the small party first, moving rather conspicuously, seemingly unafraid to be sighted by the armed watchers ranged in the cliff faces high above. Loosing the binoculars from his broad belt he studied the steadily advancing party with keen eyes searching for signs of friend or foe. "Who is it?" Questioned Sven. "They've got horses."

"I'm pretty sure that it's Gareth and Aran out front." Bennett answered. With this he handed the binoculars over to his friend. Sven squinted, trying to see more in the failing light.

"Yep it's definitely my brother, they must have raided a settlement."

Bennett prickled at this, he had strictly ordered surveillance only. His ire steadily mounting as he awaited the advancing party to crest the last dune before entering the valley's western end. One did not go against standing orders without the risk of harsh penalty. Aran and Gareth had better have a good reason for this unexpected return, or it would be their hides. So the valley's occupants waited in silence all there sensing their leader's dark displeasure. It was not too long before the muffled sound of hooves and muted voices carried to the watchers in the now almost darkness. Bennett standing like some forbidding statue, Sven shadowing him close by, as Aran and Gareth approached, the party all tired and eager to be home, full of tales to tell.

The evening that ensued was an exciting one, as Aran's recounting of their lucky strike was related to all assembled about the huge glowing hearth, warrior and slave alike. Piece by piece the spoils were inspected by all, each individual amazed and heartened by what they heard and saw, with most ogling over the new treasures until well into the morning's small hours. None amongst them felt more elated than their usual stoic leader, and even though he did not believe in a god, he had to admit at least to warrior's luck. So fortunate was he to be delivered this golden, fragile, seeming girl. The leverage he was seeking had come to him at last, seeing clearly now, exactly what he must do.

Of course the capture of the four young, nubile women heartened every man, a rare and welcome distraction to be savored in their uncertain world. It had been many months now, not since Raissa's capture had any new females been taken. The four women crowded closely together, shying away from the rabid men's invasive touches and lewd gestures. Making no misunderstanding possible as to what their fate would be.

Frances stood quietly holding her three friends, fighting to maintain her outward calm. Her genteel, sheltered upbringing had not prepared her for this new and frightening circumstance. Inside the young beauty had never experienced such crushing fear. She stood, her weeping women about her, a golden vision in a sea of beastly, otherworldly, savagery. The wild men were pressing close, invading her personal space and dignity, offering nowhere safe to run. A little voice inside calling for her to remain dignified, though it seemed that at any moment she would be torn to shreds by these vile, desperate men, that knew no tomorrow.

Just as she thought she could bear the crush of sweating, unwashed bodies no more, a commanding voice seized control, with every man stopping in his tracks to listen up. "This golden woman is the Wolf Lord's betrothed, we have learned. She is valuable. None will take her, understood." Issued the feared order from their leader's lips. It was clear by the noisy reaction coming from the crowd, that all were not pleased.

Frances noting despite her terror that the ruggedly handsome, blond warrior who had captured her was shaking his shaggy head in disapproval. "She will be our hostage, held for ransom, our passage into the city, but more than that we have also learned that she comes from richer lands to the east. She may be our key to these also." With this announcement the men half forgot their disappointment, minds quickly diverted to the possibility of plunder elsewhere. "The other three will be for all to share, and the spoils shall be divided on the morrow."

With this Bennett made his way toward Frances, the frenzied crowd parting respectfully before him. If she had imagined that her Lord Lothar was a fearsome man, she had to review her assessment, as Lothar looked positively civilized, and genteel by comparison against this giant who approached her. Powerful and in control, his ice cold blue eyes giving nothing away, a cruel smile twisting his lips. Clad in black leather, fur, and steel, adorned with the trophies taken from his countless victims. Weapons of death brimming in his wide belt that girded his lean yet colossal waist. Frances could not help but shrink away as he reached out a monstrous hand, claiming her for his own. Closing in a grip so powerful she winced, blood rushing, body trembling, feeling she would faint.

This was the unspoken signal, Kate, Lissa, and Sarah all began to scream, begging for mercy as a sea of strong hands contested for their charms. Frances being escorted beyond the mounting terror by the most intimidating man she had ever met. It was just as well, as there was nothing she could have done for her friends. However she was ravaged with both guilt and despair as she stumbled blindly across the camp. The crushing grasp on her upper arm inexorably guiding her to some unknown destiny, tears welling in her indigo eyes.

Renard had blanched at the unexpected arrival of the four women, as he spied them from the rear of the crowd. In spite of the only illumination being the diffuse amber glow of the firelight, there was no mistaking the golden beauty there in their midst. Though he had not seen her for the best part of three years, Renard would have known his dear sister Frances anywhere. The young man was astounded, hardly believing his eyes, at the woman his sister had become. Fighting back the waves of horror and panic that threatened to give him away, retreating to the dark outer reaches, where he was sure he would remain unseen. All the while his mind frantic, unsure of what to do.

The simple life of kill or be killed had suddenly got inextricably complicated. Watching from the perimeter Renard was torn as he heard Bennett's edict on the fate of the captives. Part of him relieved that Frances would be spared at least for the moment, the other almost tearing his conscience asunder, as the remaining women were taken roughly by the men. He had known them all, grown up with them, even had a crush on the fiery red head Lissa in his younger more carefree, and innocent days. They deserved better than this, and in his inability to help Renard had never felt so forlorn in all his life.

So he did nothing, knowing he must lie low, bide his time, somehow securing his sister's safety, and rescuing the other girls, as well as getting urgent word home to his parents of the impending danger they were about to face. This was his worst nightmare come starkly to life, everything he had striven to avoid. Despite all his self sacrifice all he had feared had come to pass. Retreating outside into the dark, listening to the distressing wails and pleas of the girls falling on deaf ears, hating himself, powerless to intervene. Observing Frances being forcibly marched toward Bennett's abode, at least knowing his leader's predilection for boys Frances would be well and truly safe. Time was what he needed most to think on what to do, as he sat unseen, stunned and silent in the dark, cursing this latest of events.

The first thing of which he became aware, was the sweet scent of roses, as he awoke from yet another deep healing sleep. It came to his still fuzzy reason that others had entered the hut. At once he knew the familiar scent and sound of Bennett, moving to hurriedly position himself, on the defensive, back to the wall. Smarting with pain as he did so, as he still had plenty of healing to do. Next there was a soft thud as another person was pushed down on to the bed close beside him. At once conjuring visions of his mother as he breathed in the woman's exotic, alluring scent. From her lips escaped a little startled cry, her breathing rapid with terror. Carlos sat motionless, confused, unsure what he should do or what was wanted of him. Still half dazed with sleep. What was this? What was going on? Who was she? What on earth was Bennett doing with a woman?