Recaptured

They traveled past large tracts of farmland, with produce and livestock, residential neighborhoods, then transitioned into small businesses and finally past several large factories. It seemed that Davisville was making a comeback.

Armed soldiers were everywhere, seemingly watching over everything that the residents did.

Val noticed some of the soldiers operating small horseless vehicles. She turned to her driver for an explanation. "I thought you said there was no fuel to drive cars anymore."

"Ah, those are electric carts. They use lead-acid batteries. Since we have restored electric power to the city, we can recharge them. They can only be used for short distances before they need to be recharged. Still, it's progress.

The road passed back into undeveloped forest. Ahead, rising out of the forest was a sheer cliff. On top of this cliff was a huge stone structure. It looked just like the medieval castles that Val had seen in the books Angela used to read her as a child. Angela had told her they were from a land across the vast ocean a long time ago. The road turned and climbed along the face of the cliff. After they had climbed a while, Val found it too terrifying to look out the window anymore, as they ground dropped off to nothingness at the edge of the road. The road switched back several times as it zigzagged up the face. They finally reached the top and came to a massive iron gate in the stone wall. The gate opened vertically and they passed under it.

Dozens of soldiers stood at attention inside the gate as they passed. They entered a large courtyard where they finally stopped.

Val was taken out of the vehicle and her ankle shackles removed. She was led into the castle. The inside was stunningly grand. The ceilings soared high above. Massive marble columns lined the walls. The guards took her up a curved staircase and down a hall. They escorted her into a lavish suite with a large four post canopy bed of carved mahogany. The bedroom adjoined with a marble tiled bath.

A woman, probably in her early 70's stepped out of the bathroom and greeted Val.

"Milady, we have been eagerly awaiting your arrival. I am Martha, your servant. I will attend to your needs. I have taken the liberty to draw you a warm bath. I'm sure you would like to relax a bit and get cleaned up after the long journey.

Lunch will be served in the dining hall in two hours. The guards will come to escort you then."

The guards stepped out of the room and Val heard the heavy steel door lock. Val looked at the windows and noted that they had steel bars on them. She was in a gilded cage.

Val was frustrated. Ever since she had been sold, she wanted to vent her anger at someone. She knew there was no point with anyone she had met so far. They were all menial servants who had little more control over the situation than she did.

Val had to admit, a bath did sound good. She went into the bathroom and Martha followed. Val felt a little awkward undressing in front of her, but that seemed to be what Martha expected.

Martha took Val's clothes as soon as she took them off and left the room. Val slipped into the tub and relaxed in the warm water. Martha came back in a little while later with thick towels. When Val got out of the tub and wrapped herself in one of the towels, she was surprised to find that it had been warmed. The feeling was almost better than the bath.

Martha offered to brush out her hair.

Val remembered the last time a woman did her hair. "Can you do a French braid?" she asked on impulse.

"Of course, Milady, a very good choice."

When her hair was done, Val realized her clothes were nowhere in sight. She asked Martha about them.

"Oh, no. Those old rags are not befitting a young woman of your status, Milady."

"My status? What status would that be? Six days ago, I was auctioned off to the highest bidder. Sold like a piece of meat. Now I'm a prisoner. How does that give me any status? . . . and enough with the 'Milady' stuff, my name is Val."

"Yes . . . um, Lady Val, pardon me, but I do not attend to servants, slaves or prisoners, therefore you are a lady of status."

As Val absorbed that bit of indirect logic, Martha opened the closet. It was filled with long elaborate dresses.

Val looked at them in dismay. She hardly ever wore dresses.

"Which one would you like to wear for your lunch with Mr. Davis?"

Val sighed, "You pick one."

Martha looked pleased with this decision. She perused the dresses for a few moments, then pulled out a blue-green one. She held it up against Val. "Yes, this goes nicely with your eyes."

Martha laid the dress on the bed and went to a dresser and opened several drawers, handing Val lacy undergarments.

Val put on the panties, then struggled with the bra. She was not in the habit of wearing one. She didn't see the point. She was not overly busty and didn't need the support. Moreover, she found them uncomfortable.

Martha looked a bit amused, then came over and helped. Val was embarrassed at the liberties Martha took with her, adjusting Val's breasts in the bra. Next, Martha helped her into the dress. It buttoned down the back, and Val found it difficult to reach all the buttons.

"Let me take care of it," Martha chided.

"Why would they make garments that you need someone else to help put on and take off?" wondered Val. It just seemed like another little loss of freedom.

Martha stepped back. "Turn around," she requested. Val complied.

"You look lovely," Martha said with satisfaction. "Take a look."

Looking in the full length mirror, she almost didn't recognize herself. Martha was right. She looked like a princess in one of those fairy tales. Somehow the bra pushed her breasts up and together in such a way that the low cut dress revealed cleavage she didn't know she had.

Princess . . . She blinked back tears. Daddy had called her that when she was little. How she longed for those simple times when her parents were her whole world and she and Daddy would play "Warrior Princess" in the meadow behind their house.

Val was led to a grand dining hall. An old man was there to greet her. He was introduced to her as Mr. Davis, the founder and leader of Davisville. He looked to be close to 80. He was bald and stooped. She greeted him awkwardly. He bowed and kissed her hand. "Lady Val, it is our honor to welcome you to our fair city."

Val's anger began to rise. She was sick of this charade. All this politeness, chivalry and fancy clothes couldn't hide the facts; that she had been bought and sold like an object and now was being held prisoner.

"You act as if I had a choice to be here."

Mr. Davis ignored the comment. "Come, sit down. You must be hungry after your long journey."

"Why have you brought me here?"

"You have been invited here as a suitor for my son."

"Invited?!" Val was incredulous. "I was not invited, I was kidnapped and sold to you like a piece of meat or a loaf of bread."

"The kidnapping was not my doing. There are many unsavory characters out there in the wild. You were lucky I had the means to purchase your liberation. Who knows where you might have ended up otherwise. You should be pleased, you are finally safe here. I assure you, nobody pays the sum we did for a piece of meat or a loaf of bread."

"Liberation?!" again, Davis used a word that struck Val as so ridiculously inappropriate for the situation. "If I have been liberated, then I can leave as I please?"

"Oh, no. That would be most unwise. You don't seem to understand the danger out there . . . or the opportunity we are offering you here. No, no, you must stay with us. It is our duty to ensure your safety. You will be provided everything you need, and you will find everything to be of the finest quality."

"The only thing I want or need is my freedom."

"I can see it will take some time for you to understand. You will come around."

Val could see she was getting nowhere. She had to fight the urge to get up and kick the shit out of this old man. She suspected she could kill him before the guards at the door could stop her. She knew, however, that course of action would likely not end well for her. She struggled to control her anger for a few moments, then changed the subject.

"Where is this son of yours?"

"He is traveling, leading an expedition to gather resources for our rebuilding. He will return in about a month. In the meantime, you will have a chance to get comfortable here."

Val didn't think she wanted to do that at all.

"You have come at an exciting time. No doubt you have seen our new wall going up. It is the third time in the last two years we have expanded our boundary. Soon we will be back to our original footprint from before . . . the unfortunate events of 18 years ago."

"You mean the revolt."

"The people were misled by a few misguided people and a few trouble makers. Sometimes they can be easily swayed."

Val realized her parents were among those "trouble makers" that Mr. Davis referred to.

"When you oppress the people, they will eventually revolt. It is inevitable."

Mr. Davis looked annoyed at that declaration. "We made some mistakes, but we have learned from them. The people need firm guidance, which we are now providing. We have a vast army of soldiers watching their every move, to correct them should they make poor decisions. We will not lose control of them again."

Val knew then that the city was doomed. Rather than learning from their mistakes, they had doubled down; compounding them the second time around. The man was delusional and corrupted by power. History would repeat itself, the question was merely when.

The seeds of a plan were planted in Val's mind. Perhaps she could be the catalyst. She needed to gather information; to understand the power structure of this community and hopefully find its weaknesses.

One obvious question loomed in her mind. "Without children, your city is still doomed. Surely you realize I can't repopulate your city myself."

"No, of course not. I'm merely looking to you to provide me with a grandson. There were 143 female children born to this settlement before they were scattered by the . . . troubles and before our lab facilities were destroyed. Now that we have stabilized and secured the city, we are actively seeking those girls out to bring them home and start the next generation. Even if this doesn't work out, my son has a contingency plan."

Val couldn't grasp what that contingency plan would be, but she felt a sudden dread, as though some connection had been made in her subconscious mind that had just not percolated all the way to the surface yet.

Three weeks later, Val had settled into life at the castle. Sometimes she found it difficult to keep her anger in check, but she knew that lashing out would be counterproductive. She forced herself to be agreeable and inconspicuous and slowly began to piece together information about how the city functioned.

It was clear to Val that the city was not operating in a sustainable manner. So much emphasis and manpower was committed to security that goods and services produced could not meet demand. Their solution to that was to send out raiding parties to the surrounding areas to take in more resources, taking by force what they could not produce. They swept into other settlements with overwhelming military force, taking anything of value and bringing back the residents to bolster their workforce. Of course, those new residents also represented more mouths to feed.

During this process, the city amassed a huge arsenal of weapons and collected large quantities of gold, which had gained acceptance as a form of currency over the last 15 years or so. In that sense, the rulers of the city were immensely rich and powerful.

Those settlements in the area that had not been ransacked, disappeared on their own accord as the residents fled for safer locations. The raiding parties were finding it necessary to travel further and further for their plunder.

Val was finding it increasingly difficult to combat boredom. She found herself taking on activities she never would have considered previously, just to keep herself occupied. Martha was teaching her to play the piano, while one of the guards was teaching her ballroom dancing during his off duty hours.

They began to allow Val to wander the castle grounds, albeit always accompanied by at least two guards. One day, she ventured into an area of the grounds she had not previously explored. She had been discouraged from entering this area, being told that it was "not suited for a lady," which of course only served to intrigue her.

The guards escorting her that day seemed a bit more lenient than some of the others, so she asked again and they agreed. What she found there was the training arena where the guards assigned to the castle practiced their fighting skills. This she found entertaining. She insisted on returning daily and spent an hour or more each time watching the men.

Soon, Val realized the men were paying her as much attention as she was them. They stole glances at her as they trained. They tried to show each other up, each trying to impress her with their skills. They were not accustomed to a female audience, especially one so young and pretty.

Val thought it could be useful to build a rapport with these men. If there was one thing she had learned from a young age, it was that there was nothing more compelling to men than a pretty young girl. The fact that she was likely the only one for hundreds of miles should serve to make her even more compelling. It was time to use this in her favor.

Val began making comments to the men, expressing appreciation when they showed particular skill, stroking their egos, teasing them a bit when they made mistakes and generally encouraging their competition with each other.

One day, one of the men soundly defeated his sparring partner with a staff. He turned and called out to her, "What do you think, Milady?"

Val decided to take a different approach, rather than fawning over them as she had been doing. She was feeling a bit adventurous that day and, in truth, her own ego got the best of her.

"I've seen better."

He looked surprised and a little hurt.

"Oh really? There's nobody else here that can best me." Some of the other guards began to protest.

"I think there is." The other guards gathered around, intrigued at this surprising conversation.

"Who?"

Val made a show of looking over the other men, then shocked them all with her answer:

"Me."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"How do you know I can't? Why don't you give me a shot?"

The rest of the men found this very amusing. Val knew she was putting the guard in the arena in a tough spot.

"I couldn't . . . I wouldn't want to harm Milady."

"What do you think, gentlemen? I think he's afraid. Afraid of a delicate little girl." The men reacted exactly as Val expected them to, jeering the man and making chicken noises.

"OK, fine. Come on out here. But don't go crying to Mr. Davis when I drop you on your pretty little behind."

"Of course not, this will be our little secret."

Val stepped into the arena. She walked to the rack and looked over the practice staffs. She turned to one of the other guards. "Which one should I choose?" she asked innocently.

The man chose the shortest staff on the rack and handed it to her. She was surprised by its light weight, but realized the practice staffs were hollow, to help avoid serious injury during training.

"Show me how to hold it," she requested of the man who had handed it to her.

He reached out and tried to adjust her hands, but she said, "I think you could show me better if you came around from behind."

The man looked nervous, but did as she requested. She leaned into him and wiggled her hips slightly as he reached around her to position her hands.

"Thanks," she said as he blushed and backed away.

As she toyed with the helpful guard, she saw her adversary relax, assured that Val had no idea what she was doing, and that she was just being playful. He probably assumed she was not really intending to go through with it.

Val squared off against the guard. He stepped forward and took a gentle sweep at her ankles, clearly not wanting to hurt her. She easily blocked it and waited for his next move. He took a bit harder swing at her staff, hoping to knock it from her hands. Val side-stepped the blow and jabbed him in the ribs. The onlookers murmured in surprise and then laughed.

The guard's face registered surprise. Not wanting to risk humiliation, he attacked in earnest. Val had to acknowledge he was quite good. She blocked each blow with her staff, but was driven back. Her foot caught on the hem of her long dress and she fell back on her ass.

Val was embarrassed at her failure, though she knew she had fared much better than any of the guards would have expected. She saw relief on the face of the man she had sparred with.

He offered her his hand and helped her up.

"Very impressive, Milady. I can see you have some training. I don't think you are quite ready to best me though."

"I don't know, perhaps if it weren't for this dress, it might have gone differently."

He tried to laugh it off, "sure, blame the dress."

Some of the other guards were not ready to let him off quite so easily. One said, "I think she may be right." Several others nodded in agreement.

Val had a bold idea, realizing she might be able to use this situation to further her agenda.

"Perhaps I should take the dress off and we can try again."

The men all turned to her with stunned looks. She paused as she saw lust creep across their faces.

Val turned her back to the man in the arena. "Why don't you unbutton this for me?"

Val knew she was walking a thin line. She wanted them to desire her. She wanted to entice them down a path of departing from the wishes of their leader and keeping secrets from him. Still, if she played this wrong, there were plenty of possible pitfalls. There was a chance they would report her actions to Mr. Davis and she would probably be confined to her suite. All the way on the other end of the spectrum, if she had misjudged the men and they were less civilized than she assumed, she could end up getting gang raped.

"You can't be serious," said the guard in the arena.

"Why not? Would you men be offended by a girl in her underwear? It can be our little secret. You wouldn't tell on me, would you?"

The men eagerly assured her that they would not be the least bit offended and could keep a secret. They were practically drooling in anticipation as the man in the arena undid the buttons down her back. Val wriggled her hips as she pushed the dress over them and let it drop. Val had to suppress a giggle as she saw some of the men trying to hide conspicuous bulges. She stood proudly in front of them in her bra and panties.

She picked up her staff again and gestured to the guard to make his move. He stepped in and began his attack. She blocked his first two blows, then dodged the third and launched a counter-attack. The man stepped back, parrying her blows, but ultimately couldn't keep up with her speed. Her staff slipped through his defenses and jabbed him in the stomach, followed by a shot to the side of the head that sent him reeling.

She waited for him to recover. "Come and get me," she taunted. He attacked again. Val dodged and weaved, then seeing an opening, pummeled him with three quick body blows and finished by sweeping his feet out from under him. As he hit the ground, she pressed the end of the staff against his neck.

Val stepped back amid cheers from the onlookers. She took a bow, then picked up her dress and slipped it back on. She picked out another guard and asked him to button her back up. As his fingers fumbled with the buttons, she knew she had him eating out of her hand.