The Amazon and her Daughter

The first sign that there was trouble was when a troop of warriors galloped past, the man behind the leader carrying the pennant of a neighbouring, if friendly Baron. Tori felt a rattle of anxiety as they thundered by the carts. The cart driver seemed unconcerned, nor did the other passengers or those in the other carts which made up the convoy. Even the hired swordsman in the front one, only touched a crossbow at his feet, before relaxing as he saw that they were a Lord's men, not bandits. Tori forced herself down the momentary rush of tension, it was just some warriors, likely giving their horses a run and not caring if they temporarily worried some merchants. Once she would have trusted her instincts, but that was a long time ago and they were rusty.

The convoy continued to trundle along the road, bouncing over the bits which no man owned and none maintained, pausing briefly as they came to the border of another Lord where normally a toll was required. That was the second sign -- none of the guards were there, though the signs were they'd left hurriedly as there was still a half-eaten chunk of mutton sitting on the wall. The convoy leader, consulted hurriedly with the mercenary guard before urging the convoy on, though both seemed more pleased that they had avoided a few shilling toll than that the collectors were gone.

Tori tapped the small wooden chest on her knees, trying to tell herself her instincts were old and out of place --no-one else seemed worried. But there was still an ache in her stomach she couldn't still, a cold chill which no happy thoughts could warm. It had been a week since she'd been away, a trip with the other merchants to the Port of Hayrush, something they did four times a year to buy goods and materials not available in their small town, a trip none would risk on their own, but which was perfectly safe to an organised band [most of the time]. She had left her eighteen year old daughter, Sofy, despite her own misgivings -- she was now a teen and a number of the local ne'er do wells had their eyes on her, worse, she worried, was whether Sofy had her eye on them back. But the small farm and apothecary needed to run while Tori was away in the city and her daughter was now an adult and much cheaper than shutting the shop for a week and hiring a hand to look after the goats.

The wagon at the front suddenly stopped and that was when Tori realised her instincts weren't wrong. Beside the road lay a couple of corpses, a horse and it's rider, both had a number of dark arrows sticking from them, making it clear it was not an accidental fall that had killed them. From ahead she could hear the convoy leader and the mercenary talking, the warrior gripping his crossbow with one hand whilst loosening the sword in its scabbard with the other. Tori wished at that moment that she too was armed, but to everyone else she was a simple potion maker and part-time farmer, not someone who went armed, but a woman who relied on strong men to protect her.

The drivers were hurrying the carts along, fairly whipping the drays from a solid plod into a quicker gait. Tori understood the urgency, better to speed for the town and its walls, than hope that whoever had killed the rider had left. As they got nearer Tori began to smell the smoke, passing small homesteads and farms which had been burnt out, in many there were crows starting to settle over corpses; human and animals.

The fear in Tori's stomach was ice cold now, there were worse fates for her daughter than having a fuck in the hayloft with an overly horny apprentice. At least her farmstead was on the other side of the town, so hopefully whoever had attacked had come from this direction, giving her daughter time to flee to safety within the walls.

"Woah," the convoy leader held up his hand as they came out of the wooded area and could see the town of Holdaray. The walls were still standing and the only smoke which was over it came from the chimneys. Armed men were around it, but the pennants were off the local Duke and nearby friends. It would be hard to say Tori felt relief, not until she found Sofy, but at least it gave her more hope that Sofy was alive and unharmed. Some of the warriors had got on their horses and were galloping towards the convoy. Tori wasn't the only one dismounting and running to meet them, she knew at least some of the merchants had families in the farms they passed.

"What's happened?" "Is the town safe?" "Is the Duke here?" "What about the Carter farm?" "My wife was staying at her parents, over Gilling way, is that safe?" the man leading the warriors, who Tori thought was the Duke's cousin, was being peppered with questions even as he was dismounting.

He held up his hand to quiet them, "Big party of orcs, from the mountains. We got most of them east of Grangemouth a few days ago, but some split off and raided here. Not enough to take the town, but some of them hit some of the farms and villages before we got here." He shrugged and let another barrage of questions role over him, "They seem to be fleeing back, we're not going to follow them, they're no danger to Holdaray or anywhere else, but it wouldn't be fun chasing them in the forest. Anyway they're splitting up even more now, groups of six or seven warriors, hellish to track each group."

That was true. It had been a long time since Tori had dealt with orcs, they spent most of their time feuding in the mountains and caves away from settled lands, only coming down when population pressures and a uniting chieftain came together and offered them a brief belief they could win. They never did, scurrying back beaten and bloodied, a tenth or less of their original strength -- but before they did they raided and burnt and looted and... raped and killed.

"I need to get to my farm," she blurted to the Duke's cousin.

He shrugged and moved out of the way, as if he was blocking her. It wasn't what she had meant, but then she wasn't sure she knew what she expected them to do, it wasn't like an armoured warrior was going to lend a minor merchant, barely above a peasant, their horse. There wasn't much she could do, but mount the cart and encourage the driver on, luckily something he and the other passengers agreed on.

Once in the town dismounted from the cart and ran through the streets to the opposite gate. The town guards needed a little persuasion to open them, but after she agreed that leaving the town was on her head, they opened them and she ran out. It was a near three miles to the farm and she ran all the way, even quicker when she got nearer and her desperate cries weren't answered.

The farm was still standing and unburnt when she got there. Which was about the only good news. The chicken-coop was broken open and only a few chickens were still clucking about, the others either dead on the floor or gone. The goats were not much better, a few seemed to have been missed, but most had been butchered in the field. She approached the house, the door was open, hanging on one hinge with hammer marks embedded in the wood. Inside the pottery and broken furniture littered the kitchen, together with some blood. Forcing herself to remain calm Tori took in the scene trying to deduce what had happened, the orcs obviously had arrived, the blood was human, probably Sofy's, but there wasn't much of it, a small cut or wound and she wasn't here. That meant the orcs had taken her alive, that wasn't good, but much better than at least one alternative -- they also been rushed or they'd have stayed to burn the place down, hopefully that meant she was a prisoner and nothing else had happened.

Walking outside Tori looked around, there were tracks -- they could be followed, at least for the moment, though Goddess knew whether they'd remain so and it was a long time since Tori had practiced her tracking skills. It had to be at least three or four hours since the orcs left with Sofy and they'd be going fast, she needed to go faster.

Suddenly she saw a rider approaching her; it was one of the Duke's men, looking like he was returning from patrol. He started as she quickly walked towards him, his hand reaching down for his sword pommel, only relaxing a little as she saw she was a woman. "How much for your horse?" she said.

He frowned, "It's not for sale, it's not even mine, it's the Duke's."

"In that case you'll be coins up," she said, "I'll give you four pounds," that was at least twice what it was worth, but it was also the amount of money she had left after the trading trip, "You can tell the Duke an orc jumped you when you were on patrol, you fought him off, but your horse had fled. You'll probably be a hero and have four pounds in your purse."

"It'll never work, that doesn't sound convincing," said the man.

"For four pounds you can make it convincing," Tori said, taking out her purse.

The man licked his lips and dismounted. He drew his knife and for a moment Tori wondered if she had made a misjudgement and the man thought he could get the money and keep his horse. Luckily for him that wasn't his idea, gritting his teeth, he slashed his palm, "That looks better. See that stone there, pick it up, smack my cheek with it, not so hard you break my teeth... ouch, that'll give a good bruise." He nodded and held out his non-bleeding hand for the money, Tori gave it him and quickly took the reins before he could change his mind. The man grinned, "If anyone sees you, you found the horse when you got to the farm, the orcs who attacked me must have come here and then left it."

"That works for me," she replied.

"Good luck with the horse, she's pretty well trained, but not the fastest," the man said, then he turned and walked away back to town.

"Easy boy," Tori petted the horse's nose and tied the reigns to the fence, before quickly turning into her house. With a horse she had a chance to catch the orcs and now she needed to be prepared when she did. She turned and walked into her house, heading to her bedroom. There wasn't much in it, a double bed, a wardrobe, a rocking chair and at locked chest in the corner. Often her daughter had asked what was in it, Tori had always changed the subject and made sure she had the key on her, in case Sofy's curiosity became too much. Now she took it from around her neck and unlocked it, opening both the chest and her old life as an Amazon warrior.

First out was the sword, a bastard sword which she struggled to hold one handed and had to put a second hand around the pommel to hold it and swing it experimentally. It sliced through the air, still as sharp as ever -- more than one enemy had fallen to it, now more would taste its deadly bite. Then she shield, a foot or just move diameter, the dents in it showing its use. She pulled out her boots next, supple tough wearing leather, more expensive than they looked, designed for long marches and tough rides. Next up was her helmet, a steel covering that covered the back and side of her head, but left her face clear -- on the top were a pair of ornaments, half horn, half wing. She placed it on the bed as she pulled off her dress and took out the next things, a chainmail bikini top and the metal skirt which went with it. She put them on, the bikini leaving most of her cleavage free as was the Amazon way and the skirt barely reaching down her thighs. The leather under the bikini rubbed at her nipples and she gave a small smile as reached down and pulled out the next item.

The woman's weapon -- the sign of the Amazon warrior. It wasn't an actual weapon, but a rounded nine inches carving, from a Halamon tree, softer and more pliable than most woods, almost flesh like. It was carved in a similar shape to a male penis and attached to a set of straps. Tori stepped into them and pulled it up her legs, even as it reached its position, the weapon's haft over her pussy, she began to feel herself transformed -- perhaps not in physical appearance, though her stomach might have become a little flatter, her calves more shapely, her biceps more defined -- but certainly in strength and agility. She picked up the bastard sword, easy with one hand, swinging it quickly through the air in a series of cutting motions. Slipping the shield on the other hand she struck a series of poses and went through a series of exercises -- she had often practiced them when Sofy was asleep -- but she had always thought it was just a way to remember her youth and keep herself in shape, never had she imagined that she'd take them out for real.

Despite the circumstances it felt good.

She took a few more things from the chest, a dagger for her boot, a couple of leather studded wristbands, a belt with a scabbard for her sword. She put them on adjusting the fit until they felt as much a part of her body as she'd been born with them. She shut the chest and placed the key on it, she would have no need to lock it again, Sofy would either discover her Mom's past or they'd both be dead.

She walked to the horse and took a look in the saddlebags, a bed roll with a blanket for one, a week's worth of iron rations (salted beef and hard biscuits), a leather water bottle, some supplies and equipment for the horse. From her own supplies Tori added a few ointments designed to help heal cuts and wounds, a more powerful one that would rid of poisons and finally, a potion to kill any foetus in the womb -- one she hoped not to have to use, but better to be safe and early, than to have to deal in later months as a raped Sofy began to suffer the pregnancy pains associated with a half-orc baby.

Taking one last look at her farmstead she mounted her horse and began to follow the orcish tracks.

*

The trail was easy to follow, sneaking lightly across landscape to avoid detection was not the orc way -- fields were tramped down, branches snapped from trees, loot and other detritus discarded as well as other signs. Tori managed to get a good few hours of riding in before darkness. Not wanting to risk losing the party in the night she stopped, building a small fire, patted down and made sure the horse was fed and watered, before slipping out of her armour and conducting her exercises with the blade. If she didn't catch up with orcs on the morrow it would be the next day and she'd need to be as supple and agile as she had once been to beat them.

She woke at dawn and was up in the saddle shortly after, eating a sliver of the beef as she rode to make more time. The trail was harder now, some of it being lost overnight and with the morning dew, several times she had to turn back and search again for a lost track, losing time. It was near evening by the time she came to the Forest, though she was confident that the path she was following was the same one the orcs and her daughter had taken. The good news was that she had seen no sign of blood or body, which hopefully meant her daughter was still unharmed -- as the night closed in again, it was a small light in the encroaching darkness.

Again she was up at dawn, quickly packing the bed roll and saddling her horse. The orcs were following the path, it meant they moved quicker, but she was able to move faster still, their metal clad boots leaving deep imprints on the dirt which were easy to follow. As she continued she could see fresher signs of their passing, a pile of crap where one had stopped to defecate, still warm and with flies only starting to gather and a half-eaten raw chicken leg not yet spirited away by a woodland mammal. Tori started to slow, whilst still keeping at a faster pace than the orcs, her hand reaching down to loosen the sword in its scabbard in case she needed to withdraw it at speed.

By early-afternoon she could hear them in the distance, the clank of metals as they jogged, their guttural oaths and snarls as they argued and yelled at each other and the silence of birds and beast as they fled from the oncoming oaths. Soon after she began to smell them, no orc has a pleasant odour and those who had been running for several says smelt worse than normal. She slowed her pace, not wanting to come across them unawares -- if there was going to be surprise she wanted it to be on their side, not a mutual shock.

As she got closer she heard them halt. It was still mid-afternoon, but unlike her they had been running all day and needed a break, perhaps also believing that no-one would have followed them so far into the forests. Tori dismounted the horse, leaving it tethered to a branch and moved off the path, silently creeping through the trees, until she came to a clearing where the orcs had stopped. There were six of them, one gathering wood, another two acting as sentries, whilst two more lounged on the ground, their pole arms within reach, whilst the final one was standing barking orders which the others listened to or not as the fancy took them.

Tori's heart beat faster as she saw at the far end of the clearing Sofy tied to a tree, one rope around her waist, another looped round her wrists, pinning them above her head. Her daughter seemed unharmed, even if her both her face and her white dress were stained with dirt and mud and her hair was loose and unkempt. She seemed to be struggling at the rope in a vain attempt to untie her wrists, the orcs seemed confident that she couldn't as they were ignoring her.

Tori silently slid her sword out of the scabbard and tightened her grip on the shield...

*

Sofy struggled against her bonds, but whatever she did she couldn't even loosen them. The one round her waist was painful, but at least her dress stopped it chafing direct on her skin. The ones on her wrist and ankles were worse, biting deep into her flesh on top of the already painful burns from the day before. Despite that she was lucky, she knew, the orcs had smacked her about a bit when they'd raided her house, before trussing her up and taking her with them as they fled. But none had yet ravaged her, nor had she been tortured.

Yet...

For all that she'd not been branded with burning logs nor raped repeatedly by cruel orcs, she knew that was a temporary state of affairs. For the first few days the orcs had been fleeing, wanting to put enough ground between them and the warriors who'd rallied to defeat the incursion. The further into the forests they got the more confident they became that the humans wouldn't follow them deep in, where the risk of ambush or getting lost outweighed the chance the human warriors would catch a party of fleeing orcs. As she'd been tied up earlier the orc who seemed to be in charge had made clear that if wasn't this evening that the gang raping would begin, it would be the night after.

The teen shivered. Whilst she had to believe that whilst there was life there was hope she was starting to fear both were running out. She made another tug at the rope, earning a thrown stone from one of the orcs relaxing on the ground. It bruised her arm and she paused for a moment, waiting for him to lie back and close his eyes before restarting. She pulled harder, the ropes remained unyielding and her fingers, no matter how much she twisted them, were not supple enough to get to the knot. A trickle of sweat rolled down her forehead, part from the effort, but also from the on-going fear at her predicament and that there seemed no way out; rescue wasn't coming.

And then it was...

From the undergrowth opposite her there came a rustle, for a moment Sofy thought it was a small piglet wandering into to become dimmer, but then... her Mom... no a woman in an armoured bikini and helmet who momentarily looked like her Mom was charging out. If Sofy was surprised the orcs were even more so, one supposedly on sentry down before he realised it wasn't a meal ready to eat and the one scrabbling around for the wood barely had time to drop it before he was falling back, cut from sternum to his belly. The others were reacting quickly grasping their weapons and charging at the Amazon.