The dawn light had not slipped past the drapes of Wing-leader Pa-Tieran’s sleeping chamber, when a servant girl entered carrying a small lamp, which she silently sat down on a chest, well away from the place where the lord was still in repose. She came to stand at the foot of his sleeping platform, well out of reach, should her efforts to wake him startle him, causing him to be violent; he like all of the warriors of the Amariku were highly trained, and able to respond to an attack upon their person with tremendous vigor, even rising from a deep sleep.
Knowing this, Chadiri was most respectful, and gentle in her task.
“My lord? The dawn has come!” she nearly whispered. The lamp, casting it’s slight light on the Lord’s face, showed him frowning, but not responding more. Chadiri next sat on the edge of the mattress, and slipped a hand under the cover, to caress his foot. This garnered a more significant response, as Pa-Tieran sat bolt upright, prepared to fight. Chadiri was so surprised, she jerked backwards, and fell off the mattress, landing on her butt, and giggling. She scrambled to get up, and seeing that the lord was fully awake, and eyeing her, she hastened around the platform, to sit as close as she could.
“Forgive me for startling you, my lord, but the dawn is come. Eradu has laid out your clothes for the day, and your food will soon be ready!” she hastily suggested. Smiling impishly, she touched his bare arm. “My lord…might you spare a moment to have me? You know such would banish the spider webs from your mind, and give you much good luck, in your day’s endeavors! I should be delighted to pleasure you!” she begged. Pa-Tieran chuckled at this, and reached for her, slipping his hand under her short garment, and fingered her femaleness. He found her wet and ready.
“I suspect you are more desperate to pleasure yourself than me!” he laughed. Chadiri, looked down, guilty.
“My lord! My greatest pleasure comes to me by pleasing you! Please, it is true that I get desperate to be ravished. I have nothing but utter gratitude that you consent to share such pleasure with me, but would be ashamed to put my own desires first, before yours!” she sighed. “Please…I am so eager to please you!” she nearly moaned.
Pa-Tieran grinned at her effort, and lay back, tossing the covers aside, to reveal his bare form. “Very well, put your femaleness on my organ, and show me how devoted you are!” he suggested. Chadiri quickly positioned herself, to do so, and was thrilled to have the lord’s organ quickly rise up and become hard and firm, as she slid her spread, wet self back and forth on it. A small tug on her hair, encouraged her to change position, raising her body up from his hard body, and she was soon impaled on his throbbing maleness, as she moaned with delight.
While pa-Teiran fondled her breasts, she concentrated on riding his organ, and she was quickly sweaty from her exertion. When Pa-Tieran moaned, and thrust deeply into her sopping pussy, she held still a moment feeling him pumping her full of his juice. She managed to slip her hand between her spread legs, and rubbed herself, erupting in a strong orgasm, her vagina’s spasms massaging the lord’s still firm organ. The young woman leaned forward, eager to collect a kiss, and when she had done so, she whispered, “Please…have me again?” Pa-Terin laughed, and slapped her bottom.
“I have more urgent things to do than amusing you!” he insisted. Chadiri reluctantly slipped off, and stretched out next to him, as he sat up, and turned to get out of bed.
“Lay on your belly!” he commanded, and tuck your hands under the pillow!” he added, as he stepped over to a small stool and picked up a belt from his uniform. Stepping close to the bed, he expertly administered three lightening quick lashes to her bare bottom, before she could even move her hands or gasp.
“What was that for…my lord?! she belated added his title as she grimaced, sliding away and off the other side of the bed. Pa-Tieran pointed at the floor directly in front of him, and his servant hastily ran to the spot indicated, and knelt.
“It is a reminder of your place…do not think you can manipulate me or bend me to your will! You are a servant girl, and I am your master! You would not be wise to forget that,” he suggested.
“Forgive me, my lord, but I so love your attention, and desire to have it, anytime I can!” She managed to look up, and smiled, wiping her tears, before leaning close and kissing his organ gently.
“You women are all the same…You could be had constantly, and would still want more. A man could get nothing useful done, if he tried to please one of you!” he laughed, tousling her hair. “Now, don’t you have things to attend to?”
“Of course, my Lord Pa-Tieran! I shall go attend to them, as you would wish me to!” she said, hopping up, and running out the door. Only when she was out of sight did she rub her sore bottom and grimace, it still stinging sharply; had she possessed any doubt as to her lord’s strength, or willingness to inflict a proper punishment on a disobedient servant, the three swipes she had just suffered would have well educated her.
For his part, Lord Pa-Tieran quickly forgot about Chadiri, going to relieve himself, and wash his face, to get fully awake, and ready to dress. His mind was well absorbed with the days coming events, as he planned to depart with nearly a thousand flyers, who would, within two days meet up with nearly five thousand foot soldiers and their mounted cavalry force, to push past the eastern border of their territory in a bid to take the adjacent province from the warlord who currently ruled it. His older brother Ha-Comaran had led that force, being older and well versed and experienced in such exploits. Pa-Tieran had made his own mark, having developed fully the use and brilliant tactics made possible by being mounted awing, flying the great narads and attacking from the skies.
He was soon dressed, in a uniform crafted for comfort and ease of wear in battle, not one flashy and suitable for pompous ceremony, the pants and shirt, being close fitting and of a fabric that was able to stretch with his movements, and which would neither bind nor bunch up under his mail. His personal wardrobe aide, Eradu, expertly assisted him, lacing his sleek black leather boots precisely. Pa-Tieran was soon stepping rapidly down the staircase, before striding down the main palace corridor towards the lesser dinning room, where he expected to dine with his father, Emperor Al-Narian. He was surprised to find a half dozen of the lesser Wing-leaders, but no sign of his father, seeing his frown, his older sister Rimcou took pity on his ignorance, and spoke up.
“The Emperor will be here in a moment…he went to speak with a messenger!”
“Excellent! Well, how goes it, men?” He asked. One of those who led a half flight of five hundred men, A-Zontu, glanced to see if anyone more senior might wish to speak, before replying.
“Milord, all will be ready to depart as soon as we’ve eaten. The wings are assembled on the parade grounds, and all the narads are loaded and well tended!”
“Perfect! All of your attention to detail is much remarked and greatly respected. I have never been disappointed by the devotion and will of those I lead, in even the smallest detail. Your contributions and effort work to make us near invincible!” Pa-Tieran declared, utterly proud and heartfelt, a thing impossible for his men to miss, and a large part of what made them so devoted. None but a lunatic would suggest him to be false or lacking in honor, a trait that had been inherited from his father, and one that had allowed the building of a thriving empire.
“I would second such a declaration!” the voice of the Emperor added, as the elder came into the room, a limp from an old and severe wound noticeable. His injury had made his campaigning end, but his sons and devoted warriors carried on, eager for his praise and favor. “Still, it never pays to be overly confident. Each new enemy is a fresh test of your resolve, and when defeated, making them into loyal subjects is likely harder than merely defeating them!”
“And thus your efforts to give them much reason to belong to us?”
“Undeniably…a vanquished foe, who can’t be won over, is better laid to rest, for within the heart of a defeated enemy, a vile bitterness will form and take root, growing ever stronger. Such a one will hide in the shadows, spreading falsehood and lies, working ever to win others to their view of your imagined wickedness. We know little of those we attack next, having been always rebuffed in our overtures for relations and trade. We have placed few spies among them, and gleaned little understanding of them. Because of that, you must be especially vigilant. I have no desire to lose many men, in an effort to gauge their strength, by being crushed!”
“I would hope to prevail, but will honor your words of caution, should things turn against us. It is far less honorable to throw away the lives of your men, than to retreat honorably, to fight another day!” Pa-Tieran suggested, repeating something his father had repeated incessantly for years.
“What is sad is to study history, and see how few heeded that lesson, when, driven by pride and lacking clear purpose, some of those before us sacrificed tens of thousands of good men, in such an empty display of stubbornness,” the Emperor declared.
“Rimcou suggests that a messenger has come?” Pa-Tieran asked, finally giving in to his curiosity.
“Indeed, from Earinic. One of the spies we sent into the distant lands, whom we had thought lost, has returned. He brings news that is…disturbing? You will not be fighting whom we expected,” he said, taking a drink of wine, his eyes delighted at the looks of expectancy well displayed, as everyone sat rapt.
“Really? I thought a warlord named Kasharidu led them.”
“He did, until ten years or more ago. Now apparently a…woman leads them, apparently his daughter,” the Emperor declared. The room was suddenly alive with laughter, as this struck everyone as completely absurd. What man would follow a female into battle?! When they saw the expression on the Emperor’s face, then soon fell into an awkward silence.
“Perhaps you should reserve your judgment? She has taken her forces north and east, and annexed both her neighbors, and now can field a force nearly equal to our own! Our man actually managed to enlist, and fought for her in one of the campaigns. He speaks highly of her abilities and stratagems, and suggests we may prevail only with great effort and no small loss!” Pa-Tieran sat with his mouth open, completely shocked, before gathering his wits to reply.
“Well, praise the gods, at least we have our flyers. That will be a hard factor for her to overcome!” he suggested, grinning. His father turned to stare at him.
“She is said to have several thousand flyers of her own, and unlike your men, she has fought against others awing. I might suggest you devote much thought to such, as you journey to the battlefield. And Pa-Tieran…her men are fanatically loyal and willing to die for her. Remember my words about caution…you will no doubt be much more skilled and wiser…if you manage to return.”
Later, after the attack has proven a failure
Pa-Tieran slowly drifted at the edge of awareness, his mind well occupied with strange dreams and his senses un reliable and lacking the ability to tell present sensations from memory. He was mostly remembering scenes from his childhood, during the brief moments when he had been free to play, not being enmeshed in duties or study of the many subjects and weapons he had been required to master. There had been few of these interludes, and they seemed sharp and clear.
One such that now drifted into his dreamy awareness had been the time when he was chasing and playing with another young cousin, a girl of ten like himself. They had been hiding and trying to find each other among the gardens adjacent to the palace. She had been wearing a long summer dress, and when he was nearly ready to give up, and had quit calling, he turned a corner of the tall shrubby and discovered his companion, squatted down, dress gathered up high, and peeing on the lawn.
He had stood transfixed, seeing well for the first time the difference between girls and boys, and she, staring at the ground in front of her, was utterly oblivious to his observation, until the moment she looked up. He expected her to cry out or be embarrassed, but instead had merely smiled.
“I had to piddle! Surely you’ve done that too?” she declared.
“I need to now, but…”
“Good, then I get to watch you! It’s only fair!” she had declared.
“How’s that fair?!” he demanded, suddenly shy and reluctant, but still looking at her female self. She stood and moved close, only dropping her dress after taking three steps.
“Well you got to watch me piddle, so you have no reason not to let me see you. Come on…you don’t want me to tell mother you watched me…do you?” she insisted, a sly trace of delight showing on her innocent face.
Knowing he was trapped by his own guilt, and would suffer a stern punishment for having been so unchivalrous as to stare at his cousin’s nakedness, he finally nodded, and looking around, to make certain none could see, he nervously unbuttoned his trousers, and let his small male organ slip out. He was soon relieving himself, eager to be done quickly. His companion, watching openmouthed and amazed, had other ideas.
“Oh, I wish I had that! It just isn’t fair what we girls have to put up with!” she insisted. Pa-Tieran was soon finished, and eager to get buttoned up, but his cousin stopped him, by reaching out, and taking hold of his organ.
“How nice! Yours is the first one I’ve ever seen!” she declared, smiling.
“I didn’t touch you!” he grumbled, embarrassed, and certain he’d get whipped if what they were doing was ever discovered. It seemed utterly embarrassing and improper to have a girl holding and examining his manhood.
“Well you can! Here!” she said, shocking him more, as she reached for the hem of her dress, and lifted it up to where her femaleness was exposed as he hastily tucked himself away. He then carefully touched her, fascinated by her lack of anything like what he possessed, the softness of her puss, and its well hidden nature fascinating. She stood with her legs well spread to make exploring her easier.
“I had no idea just how different girls were!” he said, a look of amazement on his young face. She had giggled delightedly at this, and after several moments of fascinated touching, he reluctantly pulled his hand back, and nodded. She dropped her dress, and took his arm.
“See? Now we both know more than we did!”
“I’m sure our parents would not approve!” he gasped nervously. This caused more giggles.
“I won’t tell if you don’t!” she vowed, and true to her word, nothing was ever revealed. Forever after, she always had graced him with the wickedest smirk, whenever they saw each other, especially as they both developed and understood the sexual nature of each others different parts, their improper but innocent curiosity having given them a special bond and a secret to share.
As this faded from his mind, he began to notice sounds and voices, and was soon visited by the toe of a boot prodding his side. His ribs, which had been battered in his fall from his mount, were a substantial ache.
He groaned, but found himself unable to move. A sharp kick in the ribs made him gasp, and his eyes flew open, to find the Witch Queen standing over him. He concluded that he was lying on the floor.
“I expect better from someone foolish enough to invade my land, and attack my people! Who are you, young fool, that has come here, and made himself my captive?!” The woman’s accent was harsh, but her words were intelligible…barely. To make her comments even more biting, she appeared to be a young woman no older than himself. That he found her beautiful, and much desirable, did nothing to make him feel superior. He was determined to not display such emotions or thoughts.
“If you are so wise, you should know who I am!” he declared, but swiftly regretted it, when she kicked his sore ribs a firm blow.
“Apparently you were raised by barbarians, lacking manners, or you have no standing which you might declare! Did you take the markings you wear from other, more lofty persons, or are theses colors and markings those of a servant, where ever you are from?” she sneered. Pa-Tieran wanted badly to say something cutting and snide, but a small movement made his ribs scream, discouraging such foolishness.
“I am Lord Pa-Tieran, of the House of Ramanidi, serving my father, The Emperor of Al-Narian,” he managed to declare.
“Your lands are to the west, across the great river?”
“It is so. I understand that you have gathered others together, and become stronger also.”
The Queen seemed delighted and more than a bit amused. She was still attired for battle, her dress plain and like her fighters, wrought of mail covered leather. The only hint of her station was a rich and loose cloak of supple red cloth, heavy and luxurious, draped over her shoulders, and held at her throat by a silver chain.
“Apparently I have done better at such, since you now lie at my feet, a prisoner! We killed many, and captured others…the rest fled like young girls! You are now my plaything. You will teach me much about your people and their ways!”
“You think to find a way to more easily vanquish them?!” he demanded, knowing he would rather die than aid such a thing.
“I shall need little help to conquer them, if your forces were a reasonable test! No, I wish to know and understand them so that I may rule over them, wise and beloved!”
“You have no chance of that! Our people will fight to the last man, to resist such a thing!”
“Much as you did?” she declared and laughed, as Pa-Tieran closed his eyes, and blushed against his shame.
“You used some evil witchery against us!”
“Ah, my poor young and foolish friend…you will learn to respect my witchery, as you call it! It is a powerful ally, and one you clearly lack!”
She turned to one of the uniformed ones standing nearby.
“Asmin! Go summon Master Hucini, and tell him I wish him to do a binding for me!” This done, she returned her attention to him.
“You will soon learn to more properly respect our powers, when your bindings of rope are replaced by invisible ones of sorcery and you discover the terror of being both free and imprisoned at the same time! You will find your education most interesting, and a good bit maddening, I’m certain!”
Before Pa-Tieran could respond, The queen turned to those waiting.
“Take him to the tower…Hucini will prefer to address him there!” she proclaimed, and bowing politely to her men, who responded in like manner, she strode from the room, her boot heels sharp and precisely loud.
The sound faded away swiftly as Pa-Tieran found himself rudely hoisted up by four fighters, and carried like a log through the ornate corridors, and up a dozen flights of stairs. He was amazed at the richness of his surroundings, there being nothing to suggest a primitive or barbaric style. Had it not been for the strange color schemes, he could have been in a grand palace in his own land. The similarity puzzled him, and made him wonder if somehow his land and this one had been allied, or actually one province, sometime in the long forgotten past.
We don’t have records of the past that go back more than two centuries…yet we know our stonework was built long before that…could this place have been built by our people long ago?!” He found this an amazing idea. There were neither records nor even legends of such a thing among his people. The idea that such might have been lost filled him with wonder. The people here seemed slightly different, being on average shorter and more heavily muscled, and their faces seemed more round. Many seemed to have hair that was a reddish gold, a color rare among his people, who tended to have nearly black hair. A child born with golden hair was considered an oddity, and much favored, as the legends of the god’s told that the goddess Aliminia had possessed golden hair, and had once had a child with the human hero Paraki. Any child now born with golden hair was considered to carry the blood of that mating. His sister Rimcou was one, and was fated to be a priestess of Aliminia because of it.
His escort dropped him rudely on his back when they finally reached their destination, and departed silently, leaving him in the middle of a circular room. There was much light, as the curved stone walls held a dozen narrow but tall windows, and above his head towered a fascinating dome, which seemed to be a canopy of tree branches and leaves, all wrought of stone, but painted to be utterly lifelike.
As he lay, trying to relax and rest, the rope tying his wrists chafing and his ankles aching from being tightly tied, while his ribs on his left side throbbed, he considered his plight as realistically as he could.
We were routed, especially those on the ground. Our flyers didn’t do much better either! We’ve never fought such a vicious foe, or one so well disciplined and led. We laughed at the idea of a fighting force led by a woman, but those who survived shall never do so again! I have never seen a woman with such a brilliant grasp of tactics, or such skill with a sword. I might as well have been a first year apprentice against her, and among our people, there are few who can equal me! I never dreamed I could be so utterly defeated and humiliated. Somehow we must learn what these people know…especially their witchery…what she calls sorcery. I was struggling to hold my own against her skill, but when she added that evil spell, I was helpless suddenly against her! She could have run me through, but did not. I would have done so had the tables been turned. What is she thinking? It shames me deeply to see myself at such a helpless disadvantage against a female. Yet here I lie, utterly hers, ignorant and helpless. This is a sad day for the house of Ramanidi! I hope my brother managed to escape, with as many as possible. If I perish here, it will fall to him to defend our lands against this threat. Once I might have been jealous of such, wishing to be the one leading. Now…I have no envy for his fate, Pa-Tieran thought sadly.
He tried to stop his thoughts, but found this impossible, wallowing in recriminations and regrets until he heard the sound of footfalls on the stone. He managed to turn his head towards the sound, and discovered the approach of a slight, bald man wearing a long and flowing blue robe. He was carrying a small box or chest, of rich wood, banded in silver metal, which he sat down carefully on a small table.
This one occupied himself as Pa-Tieran watched silently, opening the box, and removing several items, which owing to his lowly position, he could not discern. The man eventually was satisfied, and turned his attention to Pa-Tieran, stepping close to look down on him.
“Ah, I see what our Queen suggested…you are no older than she! She wishes to free you from your bindings, but make you unable to do harm, or to flee her captivity. I shall proceed to do just that. You will, unfortunately, not find it to your liking!” the sage declared, and laughed wickedly. “Attacking our lands will gain you little comfort or consideration…but at least you are still alive. Of course, you may regret that too, sooner or later…”