TRC - Lord of the Glass Desert Ch. 07

Kal rolled his eyes, "That as well then—"

"And I can't attack my master."

The mage glared at Kashka for a moment before saying, "No punishment for removing the collar."

The cat-girl shook her head, "You should be the only one able to remove it."

"Absolutely not, Kashka. I won't have you dropping to your knees in pain in the middle of a fight because you disobeyed me. It almost happened once already. I won't let it happen again."

Remembering the jolts of pain during the fight with Bozun, the cat-girl backed down.

"Ye got a loyal one there. I've not heard o' many slaves beggin' fer tighter restrictions," said the dwarf.

"She's a servant, not a slave, and this is her idea, not mine."

"I'll put on there that she can remove it if it's a life-or-death situation. That way, ye'll both be happy."

Kal looked over at the cat-girl to see her nodding in agreement. "Fine," he sighed.

They spent the next few minutes haggling over price and then a few more as Kal helped the dwarf design the runes for his special requests. The mage was surprised how the knowledge he gleaned from the collars removed from Dax's pack proved useful. Olduf knocked a few gold pieces off the price for his help and told them to come back in a few hours.

As they left the collar maker's tent, a commotion next door drew his attention. He immediately regretted looking.

A young girl of only about twelve summers stood on the stage in a stained gray dress as tears ran down her face. The auctioneer walked around the child, posing her in ways meant to make potential buyers think more about years from now when the young girl came of age. Bidding ramped up quickly, but Kal could only think about if it was Adalena or one of his other daughters standing there. Anger welled up inside him, but the royal guards on either side of the stage forced the mage to calm himself. He wasn't here to change the city.

Kal was about to storm away when Kashka gasped and the crowd went silent. The auctioneer called for any more bids, but no one made a sound. Curious, he looked back to see a woman gracefully walking toward the stage. From her back sprouted black, bat-like wings as two thin, similarly colored horns extended from behind her ears and came forward like an infernal tiara. The horns' tips turned upward in front of her forehead and held a small red gem between them, completing the look. His anger rose again as he realized the succubus had bought the girl. Only one place in Fazal could a person find succubi, and that was no place for a young girl.

He glanced over at Kashka to see if she was equally angry. Instead, relief filled her expression.

"What am I missing here?" Kal snapped. "Why do you look happy that girl is going to work in a brothel?"

"To a female slave, getting purchased by the succubi is like winning the lottery. She will work in the kitchen or as a housemaid until she comes of age. Once old enough, she will take care of any clients the succubi cannot get to for a few years until they have worked off their purchase price. If the palace does not pick them to become a concubine, which happens quite often, they are set free with a stipend to live off and a reasonable dowry if they decide to marry, supplied by the succubi. Getting purchased by them is almost a guarantee of an easy life. Though I imagine they probably see some things young girls shouldn't while working at a brothel."

The cat-girl's explanation helped alleviate his feelings of guilt for not stepping up and purchasing the young woman. He almost wasn't stomping as they walked away from the slave market.

Closer to the center of the Grand Bazaar, Kal stopped at one of the clothing shops. Curious, Kashka watched for a moment as he searched through the displays of women's clothing.

"What are you looking for?" she finally asked.

The mage turned and held a strip of fabric up in front of her breasts, "Not all of the places I'm going are accepting of casual nudity," he replied. "Once we leave the city, I expect you to be dressed when out in public unless local laws say otherwise."

"And what about when we aren't in public?"

"Do as you will. I have many monster girl lovers. Only one of them wears clothing with any consistency."

The shopkeeper ripped the fabric out of Kal's hand, "I don't sell to animal-fuckers," he sneered, his eyes flicking between Kashka and the mage. "Take your coin elsewhere."

Another clothing merchant a few stalls down didn't have the same issue selling clothing for a monster girl and was happy to take his money. When finished, Kashka had a few outfits consisting of a wrap for her breasts and the billowy pants worn by dancers along the road to the bazaar. After learning they were crossing the desert, the merchant also convinced Kal to get a slightly heavier outfit for when the desert winds were harsh. Kashka quickly rejected any kind of shoes stating the pads on her paws would suffice.

Uncomfortable with the idea of her walking barefoot out on the desert's burning sands, they made a quick stop at the stall where he picked up the sand-walker boots to see if he had anything similar she could use. The merchant pulled a locked box from beneath his counter and produced a golden anklet. The jewelry would need to be recharged every three days but would protect the wearer's feet from the blistering heat and help walk on sand much like the boots he already purchased.

Inspecting the small plate with the enchantment runes, Kal was sure he could extract the mediocre mana crystal in the piece and replace it with a flawless one. He didn't think it would remove the necessity for recharging but could push it out to a week, or maybe two.

With the jewelry secured around the cat-girl's ankle, it was time to go back for the collar. Kal took the long way around as the most direct route had them passing right in front of the slave market again. He wasn't going to try his luck that the next slave he saw on the auction block would end up with the same fairy-tale ending as the girl from earlier. It was sad that he considered years of slavery and later prostitution to be a 'good' ending for the child. However, he had to admit it was better than some of her alternatives, considering the leering looks from a few of the men bidding.

As they approached the collar maker, Kal fought the nagging feeling Kashka made up the story merely to appease him. Other than deflecting his anger, she had no real reason to lie to him, and the happiness on her face when explaining the girl's eventual fate seemed genuine.

Olduf was just finishing up the choker as they arrived. After a quick inspection of the runes, Kal removed Kashka's leather collar and fastened the new one around her neck as she grinned with a happiness the mage couldn't wrap his head around.

"It's a rare case to see that much pride on a slave's face over a new collar," said the dwarf.

"It's because I am proud," said the cat-girl, stiffly. "This man saved my life and freed me from slavery. I chose to become his servant until I have repaid that debt, and I am choosing to wear this collar."

"Best not be spreading that around until ya get out o' the city. If'n the authorities find out ya aren't a slave, then ye'll be caught up and back on the auction block fast as ye can blink."

Kashka's eyes widened, "Oh."

Kal paid the dwarf and quickly left the tent as the auctioneer next door began introducing the next slave up for bid. Those few words stoked Kal's anger again. He resisted the urge to shove people out of his path as they made their way back to the north road.

He managed to calm down some during the silent ride back to the eastern gate. The look of happiness as the cow-girl driving their cart enjoyed her treat before returning to work also improved the mage's mood.

The scene greeting them as they entered the caravan staging area confused the mage. Camels arranged into rows stood hitched to what appeared to be small, dark blue tents. However, these weren't carts with the blue tents on them. They rested on the ground behind the animals as though dragged there. Lavishly dressed men and women stood beside many of the little shelters, waiting with varying degrees of patience until a scantily dressed man or woman came along and began showing them around.

The sound of a woman wailing drew his attention to the group of destitute-looking folk from earlier. The cluster of poor Fazalans was half its previous size. Those remaining looked very uncomfortable as they distanced themselves from the kneeling, grief-stricken woman. Kal was having difficulty imagining what within the bag she clutched fiercely to her chest might cause such distress.

Toba was speaking to a tall man in black leather armor as they approached. The armor seemed foolishly out of place in the sweltering heat around them, but Kal caught a flicker of magic when he and Kashka got closer. That likely explained why the man wasn't even sweating.

Dismay was written across Toba's face when he turned and saw Kal coming toward him. The Caravan Master's expression quickly turned to fear when he caught sight of Kashka as well.

The mage's mouth twisted in a snarl despite his efforts to remain calm. The magic in Kashka's tan cloak should have hidden her until she drew attention to herself, unless Toba was specifically looking for her. If he was looking for the cat-girl, then the rotund man probably had some inkling of Bozun's fate.

The Caravan Master darted behind the armored man as fast as his large frame let him. The larger man turned toward Kal and drew a long scimitar from the sheath on his side.

Kal and Kashka stopped well outside the sword's reach. "That won't be necessary," said Kal. "I'm extremely pissed at him right now, but I still need passage across the desert. His life is secure, though I wouldn't mind giving him a good beating."

A small horde of black-clad mercenaries and guards rushed over but halted when the armored man held up his hand. "How has Toba wronged you?"

"He reported my arrival in the city to an assassin with a contract to kill me."

The man glared at the Caravan Master out the corner of his eye, "Toba?"

"I—I did no such—"

"I delivered your finder's fee," snapped Kashka. "Do not try to lie."

Unable to deny the accusation, Toba sighed, "Bozun was offering far more than usual, Turam. When he arrived, it was too much to pass up."

"More than usual? Is this a common side venture of yours? I felt we made more than enough from the caravan."

"We do, we do. And no, I normally ignore requests by the assassin's guild. A returning customer is worth far more than a dead one. But as I said, the amount was extravagant." He stared at Kashka, "I just received news that Bozun's hideout is deserted."

Turam turned back to Kal, "I'm assuming the assassin was unsuccessful?"

"I was," said Kashka, before Kal could answer, "And the man who ordered me to kill him is now dead."

The mage decided he would need to have a chat with the cat-girl later about boasting. What worked in the minstrel's tales often did not translate to the real world. Her wording also made it sound as though he was the one who killed Bozun. The mage made a mental note to ask her later why she chose to give him credit where none was due.

The armored man looked Kal over appraisingly, "Can I have your promise you will not harm Toba?"

"If it gets me across the desert, I promise. Though I would like to receive some kind of compensation for his actions."

Toba tugged at Turam's arm, "Give him Laika."

The armored man looked down, curiosity written on his face. "Are you sure?" he asked, but Toba was already nodding. "As you wish," Turam sheathed his sword and turned to the Kal and Kashka, "Your name?"

"Kal."

"I am Turam, the leader of this caravan. Follow me, and I shall show you to your litter."

With a final glare at the Caravan Master, Kal fell in step behind the man as the group of mercenaries parted to let them pass. "Litter?" the mage asked.

"Your luxurious ride across the Sulerin desert," said Turam with a slight smile. "There is truly no better or safer way than traveling with me." The caravan's leader walked up to one of the dark blue tents and presented it to them. "Toba must have preyed upon your lack of knowledge to sell you one of these. That, or you are far wealthier than you look. Laika will be along shortly to explain the rules of the caravan and show you what makes these the best ride in Fazal. I must get back to Toba. It is almost time for the lottery. Farewell." He gave them a slight bow and walked away.

"So, Laika is a person," said the mage once Turam was out of earshot.

"What did you think they were?" asked Kashka.

"I figured it was the name of the camel," said Kal as he started inspecting their ride. He pointed at the hard-packed dirt behind the tent. "There aren't any drag marks."

"Could they have been swept away by all the commotion?" asked the cat-girl but saw where the camel's hoofprints remained as Kal shook his head.

The litter was tall enough to stand inside and covered with a loose woven wool fabric that promised excellent ventilation even though the color confused him. "I wonder why they are so dark? It seems that a lighter cloth would be cooler."

"Normally, you would be correct," came a voice from behind the litter. Kal and Kashka turned to see the speaker was an olive-skinned woman around Kal's age. She wore a white wrap across her breasts that was nearly see-through and a similar skirt that came down to the middle of her thigh. The mage could already see she wasn't wearing any undergarments and her sex appeared to be clean-shaven. "The darker material heats up, making the air rise off it. That draws in cooler air from below. All desert nomad's tents are made this way."

"Thank you for that," said Kal. "You are?"

"Laika," said the woman. Stepping up to him, she molded her body around his as her fingers lightly traced his prick through his pants. "I'm your personal pleasure slave for this trip."

Kal took her by the shoulders and gently peeled her off him, "I appreciate the offer, but I told Toba I didn't need a pleasure slave."

"I was warned you might say that, and I am to inform you my services are free of charge."

"That's not really the point. I'm no fan of slavery."

Laika glanced over at the cat-girl.

"She's a special situation and will only be serving me for a short while before she is freed," he explained.

The woman smiled, "Then you won't mind bringing me along. Each satisfied client brings me closer to my freedom. Whatever Toba did to you must have been bad because Turam is making this count as two trips."

Kal sighed. Which was the correct choice here? He hated the idea of yet another woman being his slave, even if it was only temporary, but accepting her helped her on her path to freedom. "You're quite talkative for a pleasure slave," he said, dodging an immediate decision.

"Caravan pleasure slaves are different from those in the city. I have spent entire trips making sure the sun never touched my lord's cock or with my face buried in my lady's quim. I have also spent other trips discussing mathematics and philosophy without touching my master in any way. Pleasure means different things to different people, so I am knowledgeable in a wide variety of subjects. However," her hand slid down and lifted the front of her skirt until Kal got a tiny peek of her sex before letting it drop, "I felt how big you are, and I hope you have other plans for my mouth besides talking."

"Tell me the truth, if you were free to do whatever you want right this moment. What would it be?"

The woman smiled, "I love men like you. A few minutes earlier and I might have run off to enjoy my freedom, but now that I've seen you and," she glanced meaningfully at his crotch, "felt what you have to offer. I would take you inside there and spend the next few hours with your cock filling me.

"There's a reason Toba gave me to you. I'm the best of the pleasure slaves in Turam's caravan. While many others enjoy their jobs, I truly love the feel of a cock inside me or a pussy under my tongue. Unless you have a mean streak, there is nothing a nice guy like you will do to me I won't enjoy." She peeked over at Kashka, "He doesn't have a mean streak, does he?"

Caught off guard by the question, the cat-girl stammered, "I—I don't know."

"You don't know?"

Kashka blushed, "We haven't..."

The pleasure slave's eyes lit up, "You're a virgin?"

"Uh, no."

"But you don't have much experience, right?"

"Um, no."

It was plain on the cat-girl's face she was very uncomfortable with this conversation's direction. After all the headache Kal dealt with that morning on Kashka's behalf, he couldn't bring himself to stop Laika. It was a pitiful and petty means of payback, but it was entertaining, so he was going to take it.

"Can I train her, Master?" asked Laika. She was nearly bouncing with excitement, and though her breasts weren't large, they were still big enough to jiggle pleasingly.

"No," said Kal, "her and I have a history, and it may be a while before that kind of intimacy is possible. Of course, that assumes she even wants that kind of relationship."

A woman's voice rose from the din around them, "All those who have submitted their names for the lottery step forward!"

"Turam mentioned a lottery before he left. What is that all about?" Kal asked Laika.

For the first time since her arrival, the slave looked reluctant to speak. "If you don't know, it's better not to find out."

"What is it, Laika," he growled.

The woman's breath caught at the force behind the order, but she began speaking a moment later. "The lottery is why traveling with this caravan is so expensive, and also how Toba claims it to be the only guaranteed way to cross the Great Desert safely. A group of people offer themselves up as willing sacrifices to any sandworms the caravan runs across."

"What!?" said Kal, his voice barely below a shout.

Laika winced, "It's a tradition that goes back generations, to when the worms first became intelligent. Toba's ancestors began negotiating with the worms and started the lottery. If the caravan is set upon by sandworms, the participants draw lots to see which ones sacrifice themselves."

"What do they get in return for this?" he asked.

"When the caravan returns, the families of those who gave their lives receive a large amount of gold, mostly paid for by you and the other wealthy travelers."

Kal shook his head, "No... No, I can't do this knowing someone is going to throw away their life for my safety," he said, turning toward the sound of the woman calling out names.

Laika's hand on his arm stopped him. "Master, you cannot change things now. Once they begin calling those for the lottery, the price is set. Toba will not return the gold you paid him."

"I could care less about the gold," he snapped, jerking his arm away. "It's the principle of the matter."

"Laika?" Kashka called out softly to get their attention, "With all the guards, why don't they just kill the sandworms?"

"No encounter with the sandworms is without casualties, and mercenary bands are unlikely to take up jobs as guards where losing men on each crossing is almost guaranteed."

"Kal, if we go along, then between your magic and my poisons, maybe we can save some of these people," offered the cat-girl.

The mage mulled the idea over for a moment, "Laika, is there any prohibition on killing the sandworms?"

"No, Master. Sandworms are sometimes feral and unaware of the agreement or know about it but disregard the pact. Also, the fewer people sacrificed on a trip, the better. So long as it can be done without risking Turam's men, killing the worms is preferable."

"Wait, Toba doesn't want the people sacrificed?"

Laika shook her head, "Survivors get only a tenth of the award given to the families of those who died. If none of those in the lottery die, all that money goes back into the caravan's and Toba's pockets. The only time the family receives nothing is if the person tries to escape, in which case, the collars they wear..." the pleasure slave put her hands near her neck and raised them upward while making a popping noise with her mouth.