The Warrior Queen

The column of mounted soldiers moved slowly down the valley, the clinking sound of steel armor and the squeaks of leather barely audible over the sound of a thousand hooves treading the soft, fertile earth. The village of Uvil lay in the center of the valley, and this was the column's destination. In this village was a prize sought by one of the two riders at the head of the column. That rider was Queen Jornea, wife of the column's leader, King Mandorn.

King Mandorn was tall with the bulging muscles of a warrior. The waves of hair that spilled from beneath his gleaming, steel helmet were dark brown as was the beard visible through his open visor. With piercing blue eyes, the King unconsciously scanned the horizon for signs of sentries just as he did before battle. His interest lay in the conquest of everything and everyone at the edges of the kingdom of Chandolay. The army of Chandolay stopped at nothing in this quest. With King Mandorn at the head of tens of thousands of mounted warriors, the army had swept hundreds of cities and towns under the rule of the King. So strong was the Chandolay army, those conquered cities and towns could do little after the battle but bury their dead and await the arrival of Queen Jornea.

The Queen, sitting astride the magnificent white stallion at the head of the column was a dark haired beauty, taller than most women, and with curves that would turn any man's head for a second look. Woe be it to any man who did such a turn, for Queen Jornea was not a woman who cared for such attentions from just any man. The penalty for staring at her heavy, leather-clad breasts and the sensuous hips that seemed to make love to the saddle of her mount was death. Queen Jornea's quest was also one of conquest, and she pursued that quest with every bit as much fervor as did King Mandorn when he raided a city on the edges of Chandolay. That conquest was the finding of beautiful young women to satisfy her insatiable desire for both pleasure and torture.

Though increasing the size of his ever-growing kingdom was the primary goal of the King, he was not immune to the charms of a well-developed woman. From time to time he enjoyed the warm, wet, clasping passage of the Queen as well as the same of a few carefully selected, experienced, older women of the Order of Lule, the God of Fertility. Despite this ready supply of women with which to cool the heat of his manhood, his favorite pastime other than lopping off the heads of those who opposed his rule, was the deflowering of virgin girls. This pastime was not only one of pleasure; it was the desperate means to insure his successor.

Queen Jornea flowered and then bled with the passing of the moon as did all other women, but her flower did not produce fruit. The barren state of her womb made her jealous of the young women who visited her chambers, and was at least partially responsible for her treatment of them, but she was careful to save the maidenheads of the most beautiful for King Mandorn's pleasure. Impregnation of a virgin was the only way King Mandorn could be assured the child was of his loins, and therefore his heir.

Once captured by the Army and once the Queen had extracted her pleasure from them, those young virgins were placed in a convent guarded by the women and eunuchs of the Order of Lule. They were taught the arts of love, and when they reached the age of twenty years, were inducted into the Order. They continued their training and served as concubines to the older women until such time as they were ripe for the King.

The duty of the Order of Lule was to prevent any man other than the King from bursting the barrier of the girl's fertility. The women of the Order monitored the cycle of each girl's body, and informed the King of the time he should implant his seed. When impregnated, the young women were to stay at the convent until they gave birth. Once the child was born, of if they failed to conceive within the span of a year, a selected few became permanent members of the Order. Most were placed in brothels located in cities around the kingdom for use by the soldiers stationed there.

All children of these young women were to be raised by the Order until old enough to function on their own. Girls would then be placed with families in the surrounding cities to grow up and bloom into womanhood. Young boys would remain in the convent and taught the arts of war. Also at the age of nineteen, those boys deemed by their appearance and skills to be of regal quality would be inducted into the King's Army. Those judged to be weaklings and those with what the King considered defects would be cast out into the kingdom to find a village and fend for themselves.

It was apparent to the women of the Order of Lule that King Mandorn's seed was less than fruitful as well as weak in constitution. Only one or two out of every hundred young girls placed in their care accepted his seed and grew a child, and those children had all been sickly and weak. In the ten years since his father's death and his assumption of the throne, King Mandorn's efforts had produced no children that lived past their first year. The result was an ever-increasing urgency on the part of the King for the capture of young maidens, an urgency in which Queen Jornea happily participated.

[]

The lookouts from Uvil, old men hidden in the trees of the hills on either side of the valley, had seen the column approaching several hours before and had sent messengers to warn the townsfolk. Such was their practice since the battle that left half the men in eternal sleep under the soil of the hillside and the other half cowing at the mere mention of another visit from King Mandorn. They also knew of Queen Jornea's desire for young women, having heard the soldiers laughingly speak of such when they herded the townsfolk into the town square for the counting of heads.

The total for Uvil had been one hundred thirty six young men well or slightly wounded, two hundred and two women of childbearing age, and one hundred and three children. There were no other young men. After the short battle, those with serious wounds had been dispatched with a single sword thrust. Older men were allowed to live but not counted, as were women past the years of fertility. Those residents had valuable skills and experience that would keep the village alive and producing grains and animals for the King's pantry.

The men and women enumerated by the Captain of the Palace Guards were the foundation stock who would also produce children. Those children were destined to be soldiers for the King and young women to satisfy the Queen.

As the column moved on slowly, the Captain of the Palace Guards rode up beside Queen Jornea.

"Your Majesty, we are approaching Uvil, a small village we subdued a few months ago."

He pulled a parchment from the bag that hung from his saddle and began to list the census of the population. He was cut short by the irritated voice of the Queen.

"I do not care how many men or children manage to exist in this stinking valley. How many virgins are there?"

"Yes...I was getting to that. There are thirty three young women of child bearing age who are possible virgins, though one cannot be certain by appearances alone. As is your wish, I did no other investigation."

"I can be certain of which girls are pure and which have already been spoiled by the thrust of a farm boy's stiff cock. Are any of these beautiful enough to please me?"

"I have noted six, Your Majesty. All appeared nicely formed and their faces, while no match for yours, are pleasing to see."

"We shall see, then, if I am to be entertained tonight or if I shall once again find barefoot girls fit only to serve as a soldier's whore.

The Captain hoped at least one of the six would satisfy the Queen's needs. If not, they would be on to the next town and he would be away from Idonia for another night. As the column arrived at the town square, he was dreaming of Idonia's firm breasts in his hands and the warmth of her body enveloping his rigid shaft as she rode him to their mutual end. He'd found Idonia in the soldier's brothel by chance, and after that first night, had ordered her permanently assigned to his quarters.

Idonia was a woman most men sought, but one they seldom found. Her body, from the round, firm breasts that jutted from her chest, to the slender waist, to the soft, round hips that cushioned the Captain's thrusts were enough to excite the most calm man. That body, matched with an insatiable desire to feel his rigid organ pumping in and out of her wet passage had swept the captain away.

Every night, he would arrive at his apartments at dusk, and every night, Idonia would meet him either dressed in some filmy fabric that accentuated her charms, or dressed as she was on the day she was born. Her hands would stroke his chest, then his belly, and finally seek his manhood. Those soft hands would quickly have him erect and thrusting into their soft strokes. Those soft hands would reach for him as Idonia lay back on his bed, spread her long, slender legs and begged him to enter her.

Often, they coupled twice in one night, Idonia moaning with passion and pleasure as his manhood erupted with a flow of seed, and then seeking to restore his softening organ to the swollen, rigid shaft she craved. Once she had succeeded, she might straddle him, impale herself, and ride him until he spurted his seed again. If she did not ride, she might bend over on the bed, spread the soft cheeks of her hips, and invite him to take her as the stallion does the mare.

After the first of Idonia's moon-bleeds, he had begun to tell her of when he would return to his apartments, or if he was to be away, for how long. He had done so that morning that she would be ready for his return that night. Yes, it would be good to be away from this backward village and back in Mynar tonight. Even one night away from Idonia was unbearable.

He was shaken from the daydream when King Mandorn ordered the column to stop, then quietly asked him to assemble the townsfolk. The Captain once again looked at the parchment, and then spoke.

"All people tallied after your defeat shall assemble here immediately. Failure to comply will mean death."

There was grumbling as they gathered, but the square was soon filled with people. The Captain sent two of his officers to count the men and women. They returned with a total that was one woman less than his original number. That woman was a girl who was not only missing; she was one of six he had selected for the Queen. The Captain again spoke to the crowd of people.

"It would seem one of my doves has flown from the cote. Her name is Breena, daughter of Samarra and Noril. Now who would know where this girl is hiding? Speak up now, for if I find one of you has aided her, you will be severely punished."

After a quarter of the sand had flowed through the hourglass he carried, no one had volunteered any information about Breena. He turned to the Queen.

"Your Majesty, the missing girl is one of my six, but the others are just as beautiful and ripe for the taking. I shall punish this girl's family, but perhaps you could examine the other five? I have not often disappointed you before, and you shall not be disappointed with these five."

He turned back to the crowd.

"So, you will not give up Breena. Very well, but there is a price to pay for such actions. Noril, father of Breena, step forward."

A man of about forty years stepped to the front. Muscles rippled under his tight tunic as he walked, and his eyes held nothing but hatred for the Captain.

"I am Noril."

"As you know, the penalty for hiding from the Queen is death. I will find your Breena someday, and she will pay with her life. She is your daughter and I have no doubt you had a hand in her escape. I shall take yours instead."

The captain nodded to the officer on his right, who spurred his horse toward Noril. In seconds, Noril was cut down by the officer's sword that sliced into his neck. Bright red blood spurted into the air as Noril fell, quivered once, and then lay still. The woman who ran to his side wailed in anguish as she stroked Noril's face. Two of the men in the crowd picked up Noril's body while a third lifted the woman to her feet. Together, they made their way through the crowd to the houses at the edge of the town.

The Captain cleared his throat.

"Now, we shall get on with the rest of our business today. These five women will step forward."

He read off the names in a loud voice.

"Charma, daughter of Ibina and Horak."

"Elista, daughter of Junet and Marshto."

"Almadee, daughter of Chancey and Ladar."

"Failai, daughter of Penela and Gornis."

"Serea, daughter of Anjo and Petron."

The five young women made their way through the crowd and stood in a line before the Queen and King. The Queen dismounted and walked to the girls.

"Take off your dresses", she commanded.

The girls, obviously embarrassed, did so slowly. The Queen eyed each girl from where she stood and then walked to the girl named Charma. With her hands, the Queen touched Charma's small breasts, then squeezed them. Charma flinched and her mouth grimaced, but she did not cry out. The Queen pinched Charma's small nipples, then pinched harder. Charma gasped, but still no cry issued from her lips. The queen turned to the Captain.

"She is a beauty, as you say, but she is too strong for my liking, and she is lacking in the breast."

Turning back to the girl she smirked.

"Perhaps one of these weakling men will find your teats more to his liking than I. Be gone with you."

The queen repeated the performance with Elista and Almadee. Elista cried out at the first touch to her small, firm breasts. The Queen laughed.

"Such small teats and such a loud voice. Go back to your mother, girl, before I give you to the Palace Guard."

Almadee gasped at the Queen's touch to her heavy breasts, gasped again when the Queen squeezed them, and cried out when the Queen's fingernails bit into her nipples. The queen smiled, then ran her hand down Almadee's smooth, flat belly.

"Open your legs, girl", the queen commanded.

Almadee did as asked, and the Queen's hand stroked the mass of dark red curls that covered the girl's sex. The Queen chuckled.

"I wonder what hides in this fiery forest. Could it be the portal is closed tight, or will it be as open as an old whore's? We shall see what we shall see."

Almadee flinched as the Queen's middle finger parted the soft lips under the red curls and sought the entrance to Almadee's body. Slowly, the finger went deeper, then deeper still until the Queen smiled. She withdrew the probing finger and touched it to her nose, then smiled again.

"This one is untouched by any man, and smells of a womb ripe for sprouting a child. She is a beauty worthy of my attentions. Take her away while I examine these last two. Perhaps I shall take more than one for my pleasure."

Almadee struggled a little as the two soldiers dragged her to the horse brought up by another, but stopped resisting when they tied her to the saddle. The Queen, meanwhile, walked to the girl called Failai. Failai's breasts were long cones that sat low on her chest. The Queen looked at them, flicked Failai's right one, and then remarked that the girl looked as if she'd nursed three children. After probing the girl's sex and finding blood on her finger, the Queen turned away in disgust as she wiped her finger on the girls soft belly.

"Captain, this one is moon-bleeding and her teats are those of a doe goat. Send her back to the village. Perhaps the girl children she pushes out between her thighs will be more to my liking. She will surely have enough milk to raise them."

Serea stood calmly and waited for the Queen to approach. When the Captain of the Guards had taken her name the day of the battle, Serea knew the reason. She was to be engaged soon to Emdal, son of Quarnic, and also knew of only one way to avoid being dragged off for the Queen's pleasure. The night after the battle, she had taken Emdal to the edge of the forest and asked him to make her a woman. When his hard shaft had pierced her maidenhead, Serea did not cry out. Instead, she thanked the Gods for helping Emdal make her unfit for the Queen's evil intentions.

The Queen eyed Serea, and did not miss the look on the girl's face. As she stroked Serea's nipples, the Queen mused, "You seem unafraid, girl. Could it be you are not as my Captain says? Spread your legs that I may see for myself."

The Queen finger disappeared into the dark brown mass of curls between Serea's thighs until stopped by the rest of her hand. She quickly removed it and turned to the Captain.

"Captain, how is it this so-called virgin is open enough my hand would fit inside her?"

The Captain stuttered in embarrassment.

"I -- I have no answer, My Queen. The people of the town said she was untouched."

The Queen turned back to Serea.

"You are either a common trollop, or very quick of wit. Which might it be?"

"My Queen, I am neither. I was married to Gelma, a man from Espada the day before the battle. I went there to be married, so the people of Uvil did not know. Gelma and I were only here to gather my belongings when your army attacked."

"Ah...I see. And where is this husband of yours now?"

Serea buried her face in her hands.

"He lies in the ground on the hillside, killed by your soldiers. I was a wife but for a day."

The Queen chuckled.

"I think that a bit convenient, but perhaps it is true. I would think my Captain would have had enough sense to ask you if you were married, but it appears he was not that thorough in his investigation."

The queen drew the small dagger from her waist. Serea backed away a step, and the Queen caught her arm.

"I shall not kill you, my dear Serea. That flat belly of yours should produce many children to farm the fields and raise animals for the palace. I will instead grant you the privilege of being the first to experience what the King is about to order as a new law in Chandolay."

The Queen grasped Serea's right breast tightly. With the tip of the dagger, she made two crossed cuts just above Serea's nipple. As thin lines of blood welled up from the wounds, the Queen let Serea's breast fall to her chest, and turned to the King.

"Husband, please order that from this day forth, all women will be marked so on their wedding day. Perhaps the Captain of the Palace Guard will not be so blind as to miss this mark when he makes his next selection."

With that said, the Queen mounted the white stallion, turned and rode out of Uvil, followed by the King, the Captain, and the rest of the soldiers.

[]

From her hiding place high up in one of the trees on a hill that overlooked Uvil, Breena had seen everything. Her father had known what would likely happen if she left Uvil after being counted, but had insisted she hide. When he was cut down by the officer's sword, Breena had almost cried out. As it was, tears streamed down her cheeks as her father was carried away. At first, the tears were tears of anguish. After watching the Queen inspect the other five girls as if they were horses or cattle being traded, the tears changed to tears of hatred.

Her father had cautioned her to not come back to Uvil. He knew there were those there who feared the King and Queen enough to pass word of her whereabouts. Breena knew if she was found, she would be killed too, but only after her body was violated by several of the Palace Guard. Though she ached to be with her mother, Samarra, to console her and to help her through the next weeks, Breena knew her mother would understand why she could not. Samarra was a strong woman, stronger than most people realized, and along with her mane of golden blonde hair, she had passed that strength on to her daughter. While Breena was growing up, Samarra had encouraged her daughter to think for herself and to prevent her emotions from dictating her actions. Breena had become a woman capable of taking care of herself and not given to rash decisions.