1 comments/ 12646 views/ 2 favorites Where Witches Walk By: Catalingus2005 They stood on wet ground as the cool breeze of their darkest hour swept past. Most of their numbers were gone. The free lands in the north had all fallen, swallowed up by the black mass of the oppressive Kath'rahim army. Only York stood against them now, one final free people, stretched fabric-thin against a world's worth of steel. For a year they had managed to hold the untold numbers at bay. Under the leadership of King James Rawlings III, they had used the swift striking movements a smaller force could achieve, but a larger force could not quickly respond to, as a tool of harassment. If nothing else, they had hoped to maintain their own independence. Now, not even that seemed possible any more. The devil was at their doorstep, and the lock was broken. Kath'rahim, covering the southern part of the great continent, had always been a dark and oppressive land. Authoritarian and bleak, even their religious music was known for its minor keys and moaning choirs. The people of the large, desert-flecked nation obeyed their faith-based leaders and worked as ants in a colony. Kath'rahim, though, had also maintained a lack of contact with the rest of the world. They had held strong border defenses and refused significant trade for as long as anybody could remember. Up until a few years ago, most people had never actually seen a Kath'rahiminer, and little was known about them. And then the armies marched through the gates. Unknown to the outside world, Kath'rahim had long been suffering a drought that evaporated farmland and starved families. In response, the emperors of what was often called The Hidden Land had instigated a number of programs that bought time, but solved nothing. The newest ruler, a military commander and son of a wealthy family named Guyen Tahlen, had seen something in the faces of scared mothers and bony children nobody else had: opportunity. Using the famine as a rallying cry, he had whipped his people into a frenzied belief that, because they had a right to survive, they had a right to take fertile land from the lands to their north. His armies swelled and, before anybody even realized his ambitions, he was standing at their doorsteps. Of course, he'd had no intention of stopping with the conquering of his neighbors, and once his men tasted victory he had no trouble convincing them to continue the fight. What finally made him truly threatening to all who stood before him was his promise of protection for the families of any men in his new lands who would join his cause. His own defeated enemies had quickly allowed him to build the largest army in written history. Tahlen did not hide his ambitions. He wanted the world. James Rawlings, and his strong wife Nina, had guided York's ever dwindling numbers into battle time and again. Together, they had managed to accomplish something nobody else had in the face of Tahlen's overwhelming numbers: victories over the black swarm at their doorstep. This, along with their passion for freedom and humanity, had earned them the position of being the people Guyen Tahlen hated most in this world. He dreamed at night of the ways he would give them pain. He made it clear to all that there would be no end to their sufferings, should they fall into his grip. When he captured David's half-brother, Nicholas, fleeing north in a caravan he had gutted him in public and sent his organs to his enemy king in a box. Guyen Tahlen was a soulless creature. The threat of suffering had never seemed more real than it did now. The small army of York was split in two, having just completed a successful feint and flank maneuver on one of Tahlen's smaller corps, and the hope had been to reconnect before the large force could react. James led one wing, Nina the other. He stood now at the planned meeting point, high in the Aerothian Mountains. The wind made a sound that could only come from the world of the dead. Like a promise, or a threat. He ignored it, scanning the horizon as he had for the last six hours. Nothing. "The scouts are back," Gerald Lang, James' oldest and most experienced commander, was climbing up to the lookout point. His awkward movements betrayed his age, but his thick pepper beard and hawkish eyes made him look every bit as tough as he was. "They haven't found anything," James Rawlings's eyes continued their diligent hunt. "No," Lang sighed, reaching the point. "But there was smoke in the direction of the Misean Rivers. Black smoke, they said. Thick." He watched his king's face as he said it. He had been advisor to James's father, had watched the boy become the man, and was as much a concerned uncle as a reliable general. "Then she's lost," James continued searching without visible emotion, as though he hadn't just resolved himself to such a reality. "Maybe not, my boy. Maybe not." Lang put his hand on the tall man's shoulder. Neither looked at the other. Long moments passed. James tensed. "There's a rider." "Where?" The old man squinted in the direction James was looking. "I don't see anything." James pushed away suddenly, leaping down the mountainside towards the camp below. "It's Piani!" he shouted over his shoulder as he ran. General Hane Piani was Nina Rawlings's military advisor. A loud, aggressive man with a tendency to get into fights over trivial things, he nevertheless had always been as gentle as a teddy bear around the queen. On the field, he was a great match for Nina's mathematical eye; she maneuvered troops like she was playing chess, and he guided them in their work like each new breath was a fistfight. As he rushed into the encampment, dirty and bruised, he headed straight for the command tent. His horse, a fine and strong animal, foamed with the effort of the long run. Blood flecked its nostrils. "My lord!" He howled well before he was actually in hearing range. "My lord!" He and James reached the command area within moments of each other, both out of breath. "Where?" James called, running. "Gone," Piani practically fell from his horse when it stopped, holding his hand to a bloody tear in the side of his uniform. "The witches...the witches are..." James jerked to a stop, suddenly cold. "The witches are neutral," he said flatly. "No sir," Piani gasped, bent forward and looking ready to collapse. "They fought against us. We...they captured the queen." "Nina..." James fell to his knees. "Captured. She's not dead." "No, sir," Piani swooned and shook his head, as though dizzy. "But..." "For the love of all things!" Lang rushed past James and put his hands under the younger general's armpits. Only a slight limp showed the exertion of rushing down the steep incline. "This man is wounded. Somebody call a surgeon!" "Nina," James stared blankly at them. "He's got Nina." Lang ignored him, buckling slightly under the weight of the bloody figure he supported. Piani's eyelids fluttered as he fought to stay awake. "She'll fight," he whispered. "She'll fight for sure." -- Nina didn't bother fighting against her chains. It would be of no use, and it would only encourage her tormentors. She had given herself up for dead the moment on the battlefield that the witches had swooped and captured her, and she would do her best not to give them any other satisfaction. She looked around. She was in a large tent, which she was certain was placed at the very center of the huge army. A thick fabric bisected the middle of the massive structure. The room she was in was a command center; the other was no doubt Lord Tahlen's personal quarters. She hoped she wouldn't have to see them; she doubted she'd be that lucky. She was against one wall, a sturdy metal collar on her neck sprouting chains that connected to wrist and ankle bracelets. The chains were short, pulled tight, making it impossible for her to stand or move. Instead, she was forced into the awkward position of kneeling with her arms pulled back, her chest pushed out and, thanks to her torn dress, her breasts well more exposed than she would prefer. Even whores would be embarrassed by the display she was being forced to give. Guards, massive men with alert eyes, stood at the entryway and on either side of her. A big wooden table was the center of everyone else's attention for now. Strategy was the game on their mind. Lord Tahlen was among them. He towered over the others, pacing like an angry lion. After some time he brushed his commanders away. This left him alone with Nina, minus the silently immobile guards. "You look wonderful, my dear," he chuckled, striding over to her. His voice was deep, flat. He wore baggy pants that clung snugly to his thick waist and an open vest. A layer of fat coated his tremendous musculature, and his stomach stood out before him. He was hairy and sweating profusely. Beaded water ran down his lined face and traced the curves of his massive chest and stomach. His immense size and glistening sweat made him an intimidating figure. His lined face and yellow teeth made him disgusting. "Wish I could say the same for you," she spat. He smiled down at her, making her uncomfortably aware of her position. Then, without any sign of malice, he drove his fist down on her left breast. She screamed in shock and pain, and tried to twist away. This only caused her bracelets to dig into her ankles. She ached where he had struck her. He watched, amused. Then, he turned to one of the guards in the doorway. "Bring the girls." The man moved immediately, and Tahlen reached down to grip Nina's golden curls. He yanked hard, forcing her head back and digging the collar into her neck. "You want to not be foolish here, my dear." "I thought it might help me fit in," she snarled through clenched teeth. If she could entice him enough, maybe he would kill her now and it would be over quickly. "Don't worry about that, sunshine," he smiled down at her, pulling her face closer, "you'll do just fine." His smell made her want to be sick. Just then the guard returned, with a small figure in tow. Looking scared, afraid, and bruised was Cindy Rawlings...the older of the two daughters of David's dead brother. Cindy was 11, her sister Jane was 6. They were David's only surviving relatives, now. Nina loved them as if they were her own daughters. "Nina!" Cindy shouted, as the guard pushed her towards Tahlen. She stumbled and fell to her knees. Nina wanted to reach out for her. She looked weary and weak, but beyond the bruising she seemed to have avoided serious harm. "God, no..." Nina moaned. She became aware of her own position, and was ashamed. She would have done much to avoid letting the child see her in such an exposed, beaten place. Tahlen gripped the poor child's hair, as he had Nina's, and yanked her up to her feet. "God, yes," he stared intently at Nina, letting go of her head. "I want you to know that Cindy can get out of this alive. Do you understand me? She can live. It's up to you. Entirely up to you." "I don't seem to have any influence here," she snapped. "Oh, but you do. You see, simply by acting so bratty, you have caused this to happen." Casually, he gripped one of Cindy's fingers in his massive, brutish grip and bent it casually in the wrong direction. The girl screamed as it popped and twisted obscenely. Her entire hand could easily have disappeared in his tremendous grip. He didn't even have to try as he broke her finger. "No!" Nina cried out. Her guts twisted with the wounded digit. Tahlen handed the girl back to the officer. She cried over her damaged hand, clutching it to her chest. "Take her to her cell," he waved dismissively, "I'll let you know in the morning if she's going to get to see the doctor about that." He turned back to Nina. Smug certainty gave his face a kind of serenity that would have been attractive, if she hadn't known its source. If he hadn't just broken the bone of a child to make a simple point. "So long as you make good choices, she will be unharmed. I swear it. Every bad choice, she gets hurt. Do something really stupid, and I might even start in on her sister Jane." "Jane is here?" She hoped he was bluffing. "Pray you don't give me reason to prove it," his face held a challenge that tore the hope out of her. "Why are you doing this?" She sobbed, knowing full well. Tahlen was a man built on hate, and in his lifetime he would never again find the kind of hate he held for James and Nina Rawlings. Tahlen walked back over, his feet touching her knees, and lifted her chin up with one sweaty palm. "You and your husband have caused me a great deal of irritation. When I capture him, and I will capture him, I want him to see you at my side." Excitement flickered in his eyes, and she fought the urge to shrink away from that gaze. "More than that, I want him to see the swell of your belly, to find your body heavy with pregnancy, to know that, even if he were to win, you could never be fully his again." Tears ran down her face. "Please..." "Enough talk," he released her face and casually delivered a backhanded slap that left her rolling on the ground. She tasted blood. "Prepare her for bed." As the guards lifted her up and began carrying her towards the emperor's personal sleeping chambers, a chill ran down Nina Rawlings's spine. -- "I want your best suggestions on what is to be done. We have to save the queen." David Rawlings looked around the table at his generals. Most of them wouldn't meet his gaze. They knew, as he did deep down, that any attempt at a rescue would be suicide. It would be the destruction of their cause in the name of a vain attempt to rescue a marriage. But they would not think to argue against him, either. Except for two men. Hane Piani, still wearing the bandages of his wounds, stared at his king. "You cannot possibly be so foolish," he grunted. His eyes glared out from above his bent nose and narrow jaw. "You overstep your rights, general," David returned the angry glare. "My decision is made, and you will abide by it." "Then I will die," Piani said matter-of-factly, "and I will die for nothing." General Lang held up his hand. He looked older and wearier, in the candle-lit dusk. "Let us not be foolish," he sad quietly. The sandpapered exhaustion that eternally held his throat gave his words weight. David Rawlings turned his lit gaze on his old friend, and stared for a moment before softening his expression. He looked down at his hands, folded before him. In the silence, he opened his palms and looked down at them. He studied the lines that marked them, and sighed. "This war is not over," he said, "and we will not do anything to rush its conclusion." Relief flooded the room. He continued. "I have fought, by your sides, in the name of freedom and country. We have done this together, and done well. So I will not lie to you now: I no longer care about those things." He looked hard at each man in turn as he spoke. "None of this...not our nation, our heritage, our sovereignty, nor our lives as free men...none of it matters to me in the face of this loss. I fight now for my wife. I will either save or I will avenge her. Either way, I only care to survive this war if she does. My fate is now linked to hers." They did not flinch at his conviction, but the weight of his words were upon them. He looked at his hands again, as though hoping to find something there he could use. "If she is dead, I hope to be as well. Soon. I do sincerely promise you that my own quest will not interfere with what we have started here. But we have been few, and are significantly fewer now. They are still many." In a sudden movement he slammed both fists onto the table. Men jerked with surprise, and when he looked up at them again all emotion had left his face. "We must now plan for something beyond war," he whispered. "A war is a thing we can not win. We must slaughter them as a farmer slaughters cattle. We won't win fights. We cannot win battles. We cannot even survive them. So we will not fight. Not as they are accustomed to. We will cut their throats as they sleep and we will poison the water that they drink. We now conspire to commit murder, however we may." Nobody spoke. -- Nina couldn't keep her shoulders and back from aching. But she still felt relief. The emperor hadn't taken her last night. She doubted that terrible event was far off, but it hadn't happened yet. He was letting her roil in her fear, for his own amusement. It was working. Carried to his quarters, she'd been stripped naked and chained to the side of the bed, left to sleep on the ground. Before the emperor returned, however, one of the witch women had come and muttered a few words over her. It was a fat, young witch Nina recognized. She was named Cecile, or Cecilia, or something of the like. She had spent some time in Nina and James's own court. She showed no recognition, now, as she cast her spell. A single white line appeared on Nina's collar, and she had quickly discovered that it meant the emperor could give her horrific pain with just an angry thought. No need to beat her, just to think about it. She wondered if that would actually stop him. When he'd entered the room and stripped naked for bed, making a show of it for her, she'd turned away only to be zapped with agony worse than any fist could deliver. It felt as though someone had a death grip on her heart and lungs, twisting and tearing with abandon. It stopped only when she promised to watch. Although heavily muscled, his body was a long ways away from attractive. Instead, he had the look of an angry, murderous bull. His thick neck and wide shoulders alone were enough to make him look like a monster of some kind, but nothing was as hideous and frightening as his manhood. As he proudly removed his pants, the blood left her face. It did indeed look like something that should belong on a bull. The huge pouch beneath it rolled silently of its own accord. As he kicked his pants away, it all slapped loudly and heavily against his thigh. A rutting scent emanated from it, barely noticeable from where Nina sat five feet away. Even flaccid, the image was that of a weapon. He'd walked over and placed one foot squarely on her chest, between her breasts. He pushed her down onto her back as easily as he'd broken Cindy's finger. After taking a moment to admire her nudity (she dared not cover herself), he'd walked up. His feet moved on either side of her body. He stopped when he was standing directly across her breasts, her gaze on the lewd display of his heavy, soft member and other intimate areas. Fear chewed at her core. The same foot again landed on her chest, so that he stood over her like conquered land. The spot where he'd punched her, near the top of her breast, ached. It was bruising quickly. She silently thanked the gods that James wasn't here to see this, to witness her being dominated by such a creature. Tahlen applied a little weight, as if testing her ability to hold up to it. He stopped increasing the pressure when she coughed once, and then lifted his foot up so that it hovered over her neck. For a moment she flinched against the expectation of violence. Then, filthy sweat-coated toes rested on her chin. He smiled down at her, and placed his big toe on her closed lips. "Tomorrow," he'd said, "you will have to work harder, if you hope to keep those darling girls alive." Then he'd slept. She lay all night on the floor, praying for her husband and herself. When she awoke he was already gone, prepping his army for the day's work. The siege required a lot of tending to, particularly with such a large army, and he had left her there chained to his bed. Guards stood at the doorway. When she sat up, they took her leash and lead her to the emperor's large bathing tent. It centered around a massive tub, dug into the ground and cemented, big enough to be called a pool. The water was almost three feet deep, but no more. Four beautiful young women, wearing strange slick-looking shorts and no tops, had guided her to the pool to be cleaned. It somehow felt more uncomfortable to have her leash in the hands of a half-nude woman than to have the guards holding it. She blushed when one young brunette's firm breast had brushed against her right arm. Where Witches Walk The women had taken her into the water, surrounded her, and cleaned her with their hands, cloths, and soft sponges. The soap was clear liquid, and felt almost like massage oil. They rubbed and caressed her, as the guards laughed and made vile jokes. She knew she must not pull away from the unwelcome attention. Her blush grew deeper as the brunette leaned in, her breasts pushing against Nina's arm again, and whispered that she should relax. "We are here to help," she whispered in Nina's ear, and kissed it softly. The shivering tingle that the kiss caused was her own body's betrayal. She supposed that this was how the emperor bathed. The girls were not shy, and were very thorough. It was incredibly awkward to have their hands and eyes on her, and even more terrible that the whole thing felt so good. Not even her bruised breast was bothered by their expert explorations. When they told her to open her legs more, she had to close her eyes against the humiliation she felt. She wished their fingers weren't so capable, so soft on her body. She wished she could hate every minute of it. She blushed her way through the invasion, only to find when it was over that Anne Jall, the lead witch woman, had entered the tent. Her black dress fit her mature body well, making her look seductive and coy. But Nina knew better: she was a murderous and unredeemable creature. The witches, few in number, had always had a reputation for a violent and domineering manner. They were known to favor women, and to be sadistic about their pleasure. They had always stayed out of the affairs of the world, however, until Anne Jall had aligned them with Emperor Tahlen's quest for world domination. Anne herself was responsible for Nina's capture, and Nina promised herself now that one day she would see this woman dead. Anne looked at the bathhouse slaves rather than at Nina. "The emperor commands," she said, "that the new pet be taught this work as you have been. After all," she smiled at Nina looking small in the waist-deep water, "she'll be bathing the master soon." Nina frowned as the girls nodded, moving away from her. The one holding her leash clipped the chain to a bar on the side of the pool. Another handed her a fresh sponge and washcloth. What was happening? She looked helplessly at the young brunette. The girl was younger than Nina had first realized. She winked at Nina and stepped away. Nina felt foolish for even hoping she could expect anything from the girl. Anne smiled all the way through taking off her clothes. Girls took each item from her to be hung up, and soon she was fully naked. Looking away was useless, too: the sharp burst of pain in her collar told Nina that the witch could use it against her. "You must learn to mind your manners," Anne tutted as she strutted to the shallow water. Without her tailor-made outfit, the witch looked far less striking. Her breasts sagged a little too much, her stomach contained a paunch, and her wide hips gave way to narrow thighs. Stretch marks tickled her lower stomach. She descended into the bath, however, looking for all the world like she thought she was the definition of beauty. She moved to the middle of the pool, a few feet from Nina, and held her arms out with a smile. Crows feet spread out from her proud eyes. Nina stood frozen. A small dose of pain hit her through the collar, as Anne raised one impatient eyebrow. One of the girls gently pushed her in the witch's direction, and followed with her. It was the brunette. "Do not make me wait," Anne said without looking at her. "I don't find the children as...adorable...as the emperor does." "You don't have to do this," Nina pleaded. "Of course I don't," she turned her head in Nina's direction, a mix of excitement and annoyance on her face. "I am a free woman, a powerful woman. You're the one who has to do this. And you," she reached out and traced Nina's jaw line with one bony finger, "have just earned that little girl another break." This sparked Nina into action. She moved in, trying to put her mind elsewhere as she began running the soaked sponge over the older woman's body. She did her best, with the sponge and towel, to match the movements of the bathers. What she forgot, the young brunette reminded her of. She ignored her revulsion at running her bare hands over Anne's most personal of areas. The witch woman smiled and hummed approvingly as Nina's hands slipped down to trace with the gentle soap the line from her inner thighs to her hips. By the time she turned to have her back done, she seemed to be reveling in the scenario. "You're just not very thorough," she shook her head as Nina finished awkwardly washing her bottom. "I will have to report this to his majesty. Clearly, you will need much more practice with me before you are ready for him." "I'm trying..." "Shut up," she leaned slightly forward, arching her rear for easier access, "and go over that last area again." Nina reached out with the sponge, and Anne slapped her hands away with a swift backwards motion. "Inept," she said over her shoulder. "Maybe if you can see the area you're working on better, you won't be so...hopeless." Nina swallowed heavily, trying to silently talk herself into moving. The brunette leaned in behind her and put her hands on Nina's shoulders. She pushed softly downwards, and leaned in so that her mouth was near Nina's ear again. "Obedience," she whispered, "keeps you alive." Again, she kissed Nina's ear gently, and again Nina blushed at the contact. Nina swallowed again, and knelt in the water behind the witch. Anne glanced behind her to see Nina's sad face even with her posterior, about a foot away, and without warning took a step backwards. Nina fought the urge to recoil as the woman's rear moved to barely a third the distance it had been from her face. "And this time, dear," the witch ran the fingers of her right hand gently up the outside of her own thigh, like this was sex, like it was a sensuous moment of intimacy. "don't waste time with the sponge or towel. They aren't made for such places. Do a good job of it with your hands, or you can expect to be told to use your tongue." Nina poured soap onto her hands, and shuttered as she reached forward. When it was finally over, Anne turned around and put her hands on her hips. The older woman's total exposure was suddenly inches from Nina's face. The shock of suddenly having her lewd position becoming even more alarming made her gasp, and she looked at the water. A small part of her tried to tell itself this wasn't happening, and she pushed it away with disgust. This was happening, and she would deal with it as she dealt with any battle. She intended to survive, to see James again. She forced her gaze up, defiantly meeting the witch woman's eyes. She wiped all fear wiped from her face, and folded her arms in front of her. Her little rebellion was immediately diluted, however, as Anne's long fingers found the top of her head and gently petted it. As though she was an obedient pet. Then, Anne turned and sauntered cockily over to a sitting area on the edge of the pool. Nina hadn't noticed it before. The girls, seeing her move, rushed and put pillows on the seat area before the got there. She slid onto it. The seat, wide enough for two and naturally reclined, sat about even with the pool. This meant that Anne's legs dangled into the pool, and as the water splashed lightly it made little forays up onto the seat that lightly splashed her lower thighs. Anne smiled at Nina's confusion. "Oh, you don't know yet, do you?" She chuckled. She turned towards the girls. "I want the emperor's full service. Now." As they began moving, she obscenely parted her legs, leaning her head back against the headrest of the tall seat. "Bring the girl. She needs to learn." Nina didn't have time for anything but rising panic as the bath girls came up from behind her and began guiding her towards the witch's open legs. She pushed back at them, frantically wanting to get away. Pain slammed into her from the collar, until she allowed them to carry her forward. Anne laughed with true amusement, running one hand down her body excitedly as she watched the poor girl's horrified, quick approach. -- "Innocent people will die." James grunted, not looking away from the map in front of him. "Innocent people," he said quietly, "are dying." Lang pounded his fist on the table. James still didn't look up. "We don't have to be responsible for it, goddamn it!" On the other side of the king, General Piani looked grimly at the map. He shook his head. "We are running out of options. You know that, General." He looked up at the old man, with sad eyes that were uncharacteristic for such a hardened soldier. "The raids aren't working. They're looking for our assassins, now. We," he threw his hands out, "are failing." "We choose to," Lang still watched the king. "We choose to die, my lord. These will be women and children. They do not choose it." "They are dying anyway," James grunted. "The whole damn town is surrounded by the troops. How many of them are dead already? How many of them have been raped? How many will be starved to death even as they serve the goddamn monsters who are killing them?" He pointed to the spot they all had been studying. "They tell me the poison is ready. There is enough. We can pour it in the river here. By the time they realize what's happening," he shrugged, "well...you tell me." He leaned back, looking years older than he had yesterday. The fire that had leapt up during his speech to his men, the warning of what lay ahead, and melted into a tired determination to find more and more ways to hurt his enemies. He knew he was pushing himself too hard, and he knew that he was in danger of losing his own morality. "How many of the enemy," he sighed, "will die? How many will be beyond help before they start to blame the water?" Gerald Lang stared at him, saying nothing. For a long moment he watched his friend. Then, he looked down at the map. "It works fast. Maybe twenty thousand. Maybe more." His shoulders sagged with defeat. James said nothing. His point was made. Piani, however, continued the discussion unaware. "That's it, then. Nearly half a corps with no battle to it. Most of the rest will be so weak that we can sweep them. It's too good, General," his tired eyes gave away his uncertainty. This was a violent and vicious maneuver, even for him. "We have to do this." It sounded like a plea. Lang shook his head, but didn't argue. "They will take vengeance on our people." He pointed to a spot slightly east of the enemy in question. "Here. This town will be wiped out. I promise it. We kill them as shadows, not as men, and when we do that they kill our innocent. It's the only option we've left them." "They don't need an excuse to become monsters," James whispered, but Lang was right. "I'm sorry, Piani. We move tomorrow." Piani said nothing. The town Lang had pointed to was his home. He still had family there. He'd known the consequences of this attack. "We have to," he repeated quietly. Lang looked carefully at the king, sitting there stubbornly bringing about a hundred thousand corpses. "What if that's where she's being held, James?" He didn't miss the small flinch. "We still don't know. Maybe Nina is there, and we're about to poison her." James didn't look up from the map. "We move tomorrow," he said. Then, he left. Anne Jall moved with a relaxed confidence. Her hips swayed jovially as she moved through the crowd, towards the emperor's posse. The glow of her climax was still in her cheeks...it had been a good one, the thrill of the event even better than when the emperor had given her the king of conquered Agner'on for her very own. It wasn't just that she preferred girls, although all witches did. She just preferred the captive to be as unwilling as possible. She wanted to dominate them. Which is why this had been so good, even though Nina herself hadn't been the one to service her. Nina's first rape was to be with Emperor Tahlen. Anne would have to wait. Instead, Nina had been forced to stand next to one of her legs, near the hip, and hold that thigh up. The brunette, well-versed in this service, held the other leg so Anne could relax and still be accessible to the two girls who explored her body and teased her erogenous zones until finally one had knelt down and given her release. She'd watched Nina the whole time, and made the girl look back into her eyes as the mouths and hands worked on her wet, sagging body. The message was simple: this will be you, soon enough. It had made Nina sick to be there, her hands wrapped around this woman's upper thigh, hands that had been there under heavy breasts and between soft hindquarters as she cleaned the horrible woman's body like a slave. She'd gasped at a slight burst of pain when, as Anne reached forward to run a finger down her breast and she'd instinctively pulled away, the collar lit her insides. The witch woman's excitement smell was awful. When it was all over, Anne had shooed the other girls away and kissed Nina on the forehead before making her dry and clothe her. Her pleasure taken, she now brought the emperor his new toy. One hand casually pulled at the leash as Nina followed behind her, head lowered in shame. Nina had a skirt on, rustling and loose, but her breasts were exposed to the lecherous stares of the troops. And stare they did. "Ah, Anne, so glad to see you," Emperor Tahlen smiled as they approached. "I trust we have no reason to harm the children?" "Just one finger, my lord," Anne yanked hard at the chain, so that Nina stumbled into the midst of the generals and couriers. "Although I do hope to get a chance to test her further." "Later," he swept a hand dismissively. "There is work to be done." An irritated look swept her face at the dismissal, but she nodded, handing him the leash. He took it, and tugged downwards one time, hard. Nina fell to her knees, at his side like an obedient dog. "Do you know what day today is?" He asked, looking down at her. "No," she admitted, looking around. Mostly she saw the men standing all around her, openly admiring her chest. "Today is the day that I make you mine. Fitting," he waved his hand out over the massive army before them, "that it's also the day my plans go into motion. Plans that will mean the end of everything you ever knew, and will deliver to me your dearest husband." "He would rather die than be captured." Pain slammed into her, through the collar. She screamed and fell to the ground. "So would you have," he said ominously. It was done. There was nothing more to be said. David Rawlings sat near the river banks. He had insisted on performing the act himself. He would not allow the murder of innocents to fall on the shoulders of men who fought for him. Piani had assisted by opening the crates, and they had worked silently for several hours before it was finished. David looked over at his general, who sat beside him on the banks looking sadly at the water. "I'm sorry," he said, and meant it. To his surprise, thick tears began falling down Piani's hard face. He didn't sob, or move. He just wet the ground in front of him without talking. James put a hand on the man's shoulder, and watched the sun set. "You didn't let me down," he said. He wasn't sure why he said it. It was spoken before he had time to think. But it must have been needed, because Piani wiped the tears from his face and shook his head. "I let them take her," he said. "I did that." "No," David's jaw clenched. "We will not blame ourselves for the sins of others. Anyway," he waved his hands before them, "we have sins enough of our own." They stayed there long into the night. The velvet sky faded into dark, but the stars never gave out. -- "Take me into your mouth." Nina knelt naked by the side of his bed, chained again to the post. He stood over her, his organ slightly engorged. It pointed down at her breasts, pulsing slightly as his eagerness grew and it became swollen. Again she was struck by what an inhuman, beastly organ it was. Even his testicles were like angry fists, clothed in spiky hair. Her eyes watered as much from his masculine, musky scent as from the panicked fear that chewed deep inside her. She looked at the first bead of arousal that leaked from his mushroom tip, steeling herself, willing her body to get this over with. But it was too much...she felt immobile. Helpless. He watched her for a moment, and then sighed. Suddenly his hands gripped her body in the dark, and he casually lifted and tossed her onto the bed. He threw her hard enough that the chain caught, and the collar choked at her. She coughed and sputtered as he yanked her legs open and climbed up onto her. "Tomorrow," he said huskily as his hand explored her most intimate places, "you will learn to be very sorry for that hesitation." He gripped her hips, now fully erect and fear-inducing. The outlines of thick veins crisscrossed the soft skin. It was impossible to imagine anything as terrifying as the sight of that fleshy monster pointing between her legs. He breathed heavy with the excitement of the rape. "But for now, I merely wish to enjoy what's mine." She squeezed her eyes tight in fear, waiting, but a moment passed and nothing happened. When she opened them, she saw he was applying some sort of grease or gel to his appendage. As his muscular hands massaged the slick substance onto his tool it began leaking the clear, sticky arousal in earnest. Some of it dripped onto her hip, and it was cold. "I can't risk ruining the one part of you that's worth a damn," he laughed as he finished preparing. "Not before I get a baby out of it, anyway." She felt the anguish of her situation overwhelm her, and a sob escaped her lips. He laughed. "That's good, dear," he shuffled forward to her entrance, and his grip on her hips tightened painfully. She could feel the pressure of him against her, and he tensed his hips. "That's good." -- Days became weeks, and the weeks became months. Still, they fought. The number of enemy dead climbed daily, as did the civilian losses, but nothing changed. The men of James's army no longer moved with determination. Instead, they moved with dead eyes and numb, expressionless faces. Their shoulders sagged. Their faces grew drawn. These men would never truly be free of the actions they committed in the name of victory. James knew that, but he felt no urge to save them. He felt no urge to save himself. Only her. They were moving, now, to the south. Having gone around the massive army, he now aimed to get at their supply arteries even as a small force under Piani made enough noise up north to convince them that the threat was still in that direction. If it worked, he could cause many casualties from starvation. The enemy was too numerous to survive off the land. If it didn't work, he would just find another way to kill them. And then another, and another, and another. He might never see Piani again. Or, he may see him within the next week. Neither thought affected James any more. They were dead men. That day by the river was already becoming distant past, and so was any notion of peaceful living. It had been so long since Nina was taken away from him. He ever wondered where she was, what was happening to her. If she was in pain. He clenched his jaw. Even if she was still alive...he shuttered, and pushed the thought away. Alive or dead, she would be avenged. -- She wanted to feel nothing. To be numb. To give up. She couldn't. Nina stood naked in the water, cleaning her rapist's hairy, muscled body. Massaging the sponge over his gargantuan, soft sex, rubbing soap between his back cheeks, running her hands through his coarse chest hair. He stood proud through it all. The tender soreness between her legs was cooled by the water. She had already experienced the soft touch of the bathing girls, and had shared a small smile of recognition with the young brunette. It was something positive to cling to. Where Witches Walk It had been weeks since he first raped her. He didn't seem to tire of it, of her. He had indeed made her regret not accepting him into her mouth. For hesitating. She shuttered at the memory of the punishment. She hoped the girls were alright, now. She hadn't seen them since. These days, she never hesitated. There was no end to the uses he found for her body, and she never fought him. There was no place on his body her lips and tongue were not familiar with. His taste was as pungent as his smell, and it had taken terrible time to learn how to adjust her techniques to his massive size. She always waited to cry until night, after his thick seed was inside her and his member was tired, when he'd kicked her back onto the floor and fallen asleep. When he wouldn't know. She was not defeated. She told herself that often. She was James Rawlings's wife, and leader of a free nation. Of free and good people. She could not be bested by these brutes. Still, as she dipped her hands in the water and ran them up his left leg, defeated is exactly how she felt. As she finished cleaning, she wondered whether today would be one where he would hoist himself into the high-backed seat for further attention. She hoped not. His bitter, volumous release made her want to vomit. She didn't dare. Today she was safe, it seemed. Tahlen left the pool and began to dress without her. She looked at him with confusion, still chained to the side of the pool, still in the warm waters. Normally she was expected to assist him. He turned to her as he finished dressing. "I have much to do today," he told her, folding his thick arms in front of him. "I have no time to entertain you." She almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the statement, but even the laughter would have felt like a form of crying. He continued, "We found the enemy to our rear, last night, and butchered them in the early morning." She looked up, her eyes wide. James... "Oh, don't worry," he continued, "your fool husband escaped with a few of his more loyal followers. But that's what I'm up to today...hunting. While I'm gone, I'm giving you to someone who has earned a reward." He smiled at her nervous confusion. "While you slept this morning, Anne Jall came by at my request to inspect you with her power. I've had her checking...if anything had taken, as it were. And by god if she didn't discover this morning that you're pregnant." No. Nina felt her legs give out. Her knees hit the bottom of the pool, and the water covered her to her breasts. Her hands clutched her lean stomach. For the first time in weeks, she cried in the daylight. "Yes," he went on casually, "this is quite a problem." He tapped a finger against his temple. "See, I can't have you doing anything foolish. I don't want my child harmed. So Anne is going to help you find your...inner loyalty to me. And in return, you will serve her until I return." Not Anne. Not the witch. "No. Please. I won't..." "I know you won't," he smiled. The doorway to the tent parted, and Anne walked in with an expression like a child opening a large present. She nodded to the emperor. "Your majesty." She began undressing without shame. Nina supposed he'd seen her nude before. He expected much from those who served him. Her dress fell to the floor, leaving only her slip. He looked at her body with unveiled distain. "Remember the work first." She smiled at him. "Oh, the spell is done. All that remains," she held up one hand and snapped her fingers. Red light burst through Nina's vision, and she gasped. Then, it was gone. "Interesting," Tahlen muttered. "And the effects are...devotion?" "Not exactly," she finished undressing and began wading into the pool. "She doesn't feel any differently towards you or anyone else than she did before, but she is now physically incapable of disobeying your orders." She walked over to where Nina knelt fighting her tears. She stroked the side of the smaller woman's face, smearing tears on Nina's cheek. "She will still hate every moment of it. In fact, she may hate it even more. Sometimes I...accidentally...increase their displeasure." She chuckled and petted the kneeling girl. As lewd as it was, having this woman's hips directly before her and having one of her wrinkled hands resting on her head, Nina's will to fight was gone. The last pieces of her ability to defy them was gone, her cause lost. "If you wouldn't mind," Anne said over her shoulder to Tahlen. "Nina," his voice boomed in her mind. Was that an effect of the spell? "You will do nothing to bring risk to my child. Furthermore, until I return, you will everything that is necessary to please Anne Jall. You will obey her completely, and without pause." The echo died away. Nina felt no different. Maybe the spell hadn't worked...but she knew better than that. Above her, Anne positively purred. "Thank you, your majesty," she tightened her grip on Nina's hair and pulled her face towards her body. Nina didn't fight it, though the repugnant sight and smell of the old woman's sex made her shiver. She had no ability to fight them. Tahlen had no interest in the scene. "You've done well," he said over his shoulder as he left. Anne looked down at the quiet, shivering creature whose nose was being gently tickled by her trim pubic hair. "Look at me," she whispered, the excitement overwhelming. Little green eyes looked up into her own, scared and desperate. "Now kiss." Lightening shot up her insides as Nina's lips pressed softly to her sex. Even more arousing was the purity of the sadness that swept those eyes beneath her. "Good, good." She flexed her hips slightly, and felt the pressure of that mouth against her. She looked around, and found one of the bath slaves. It was the teenaged brunette. "You," Anne said to the young woman, her hands still on Nina's head, "tell me...how often do you get to...indulge yourself?" The girl's eyes lit up. "Never, mistress." He cheeks flushed excitedly. Nina felt disappointment mix in with the disgust and fear. This girl, as close as she had to a friend, was as eager to abuse her as any of them. Anne clicked her tongue. "That's a shame. It really is," she backed up towards the high-back seat, pulling Nina along by the grip in her hair. "Come over here and give this slut guidance. You have a talented mouth. Teach her, and after I've seen stars maybe you can see what it's like to take a ride in the seat." She hopped up into the seat, as the girl eagerly came down into the water. Nina wanted nothing more than to fight, or to kill herself before they could do more to her. But from the moment the emperor had given his command her will was no longer her own. The girl leaned over her, fingers tightening in her hair, and flicked her tongue against Nina's ear. "Open your mouth," she whispered. Nina did everything they told her to. -- "You're not actually considering accepting, are you?" James Rawlings, last king of York, final remaining free state in the known world, looked at the generals huddled inside his tent. His tattered clothes, unkempt hair, and week-old beard made him look every bit as defeated as he felt. Worry lines had sprouted like fresh scars during the eight months since his army had been chewed up in a surprise attack. Eight months of running away. "Do you have an alternate suggestion?" He asked quietly. Most of the men had the decency to look awkward. But Piani pounded his fist into his other hand. Having looked rough and violent all of his adult life, he showed the least wear and tear from the long campaign of anybody in the group. But, as James knew well, even he was suffering much in this war. "We keep fighting," he delivered each word like swinging a sword. "We've cut most of their supply arteries..." "And they just redraw the routes," Lang's deep voice and thick accent cut through. "What good is that?" Piani turned on him. "It slows them. It gives us time to find weak spots." "Son," the old man shook his head, "they have no weak spots." Piani half looked ready to call him a coward, but even in his rage he wouldn't dare. Finally, he looked away. "I'll not surrender," he said almost to himself. "I'll not." "Nor I," James promised. They turned to look at him. Piani blinked. "Then why..." "Because," James interrupted, "I will not pass up any opportunity for new information about our enemy. Because I know that Tahlen wants to have his victory on the field, not through assassination. Because..." his eyes moved with intensity around at the people in the room, "...I will not refuse an opportunity to learn anything about my wife." They stood silent for a moment. Flickering light from the dying fire cast shadows around the room. "Son," Lang said sadly, "It's been well over a year she's been gone. You'd best be praying that she's dead." James met his gentle eyes with fiery ones. "In my weakest moments," he said, "I do." With a wave, he dismissed them. None of them saw the lone tear he allowed to fall to the dirt floor. -- It seemed impossible. From the time Tahlen's escort guard lead him past the first tents, to the time they reached the center of the great camp, James walked past endless humanity for hours. It scared him...these were a far cry from his scattered troops. They were well-equipped, and clearly still well-fed. They didn't even bother to watch him walk by; he was no longer any significant threat to them. The massive tent at the center, heavily guarded and ornately decorated, was awe-inspiring just by itself. He thought of his own ragged covering, a tight fit even with his small group of generals. The structure before him could probably bunk an entire company. A light push at his back encouraged him through the opening. He walked in, trying to look confident and unaffected, and waited for his eyes to adjust to the low light. When they did, he saw Emperor Tahlen. Standing large in front of a large wooden table laden with maps, he watched James enter with his hands on his hips. He was shirtless, his massive frame glistening with sweat and looking almost inhuman. Even his biggest guards couldn't compete with his bulk. He nodded at James with a yellow-toothed smile. His right hand held a tight grip on a metal ring. The chain from that ring hung down, and on the other end of it was Nina. James's breath caught in his throat, and his vision blurred until he feared he would pass out. He shook his head, unable to breathe. It was her. She knelt silently at Tahlen's feet, wearing only a string of diamonds that hung on her hips. A stretch of soft blue fabric barely three inches wide hung down from that belt, hiding her most intimate place, but aside from that three inches her entire body was exposed. James felt pain in his hand. He was clenching his fist so tightly, he was drawing blood. He tried to gain control of his emotions, but couldn't. There was no controlling himself in the face of this. Nina was visibly pregnant. Only a few months from delivery, by the look of it. Lord Tahlen, conductor of genocide and murderer of free will, had planted his seed in James's beloved wife. Had grown his child in the love of James's life. In the woman he could not live without. "No," he closed his eyes. "Oh, yes," Tahlen smiled even bigger, loving this. "She's a fine bitch, my friend, I'll grant you that." He tugged casually at her leash, turning her head to the side, and ran his other hand under her chin, massaging her lips with his thick thumb. A dark lipstick coated those lips. Without hesitation, she gently kissed his digit. "You monster," James spat, "you raped my wife!" "Don't be foolish," Tahlen shrugged. "Look at her. Do you see anything but love and affection in those eyes?" James felt his heart trying to tear itself free from his chest. Tahlen was right. She was kissing his thumb and rubbing her face against his filthy palm with utter contentment. Her left hand was absently rubbing the back of his calf. "This is a trick," James said as much to convince himself as to accuse Tahlen. His eyes kept returning to the swollen belly resting on her soft thighs. "Nonsense, my boy," Tahlen casually moved his hand back behind her head and, without looking, gripped her hair and yanked her head back. James stepped forward, rage driving him, but the huge guards on either side gripped his arms and held him fast. Tahlen reached down and unlocked Nina's collar. Then, he took the only weapon at his belt, a large curved knife, and handed it to her. Finally, he threw the chains that had held her to the side. "Stand up, darling," he commanded. Immediately she stood, but remained at his side. James was struck, with her standing, how monumentally tiny she was compared to the bull-like emperor. Tahlen stood proud by the small woman with the massively swollen belly and milk-filled breasts. He looked around the room. "Everybody else leaves. Now." "Sir..." one of the guards started, but he interrupted him. "Now," he growled. "And furthermore, if these two should leave this tent without me, you will safely return them to their own troops no matter what." Startled looking men exited the structure quickly. Only James, Nina, and Tahlen remained. James's mind raced. What was going on? "Nina," Tahlen continued, "go to your husband." She looked at him uncertainly, and moved with quick, little steps to James. He reached out for her, but she ignored his movement. She showed no emotion. When she reached his side, she turned to watch Tahlen. Tahlen followed her over, sauntering. He stood before the couple, massive and intimidating. James had no choice but to look up in order to look him in the eye. "Darling," Tahlen addressed Nina while watching James, "if you want to, you can stab me now. I won't try and stop you." He held out his arms, defenseless against the blade. "You can kill me, leave safely, and live happily ever after with your husband. Or..." he smiled, still watching James, "you can hand me the knife and return to your place at my feet." She didn't even hesitate. In a second's time, she had handed him back the knife and knelt down next to him. James felt the last of his will give out. For a moment, he contemplated rushing the emperor. He wouldn't stand a chance, but it would mean death's release. He looked at Nina, to see her one last time. He saw the bruise. It was faded, hard to see, on her right shoulder towards the back. It had clearly been large when it was made. Realization hit. He was being foolish, allowing himself to be easily manipulated. It was true, his wife had spent more than a year as this monster's plaything, and it was true that she now carried his child (pain chewed his gut at the thought), but that didn't mean that any of this little display had meant a thing. How could Tahlen get her to do this? Think fool, James told himself. Think! The witch women. Of course. This was no defeat. This was a con. "I can see," he said to Tahlen, "that nothing is safe from a man like you." "You see true," the man stroked Nina's head with one massive hand. "And you have taken from me the only thing that really mattered. You have taken it completely," he looked openly at the swollen belly for good measure, ignoring the pain it caused him. "I have little reason left to fight." "You are...surrendering?" Tahlen looked skeptical. "I cannot do that," James admitted. "And I do not think you would want it." Tahlen said nothing. "Am I wrong," James arched one eyebrow, "in thinking that it is important to you that the world see you claim your victory with one final battle? That you want for there to be no question remaining of your total dominance?" "You are an astute man," Tahlen looked at him through narrow eyes, evaluating. "And I am a proud man. But I am no fool. I have an offer. You may have your victory, at a time and place of your choosing. You designate it, and my army will stand before you. On open ground, we cannot win." "Why, though?" "I want to think that, by giving you what you want, I may encourage you to give me what I want." "You can't have her," Tahlen growled, his grip absently tightened on the small head beneath him. "No," James looked at her. "It's too late for that." "Then what?" "I want you to promise that your men will immediately and permanently stop their harassment of the people of this land. You have many countries. Leave the families of my men, the people they left behind, to live in peace. To live under your rule." Tahlen shrugged. "And yourself?" "We both know that I have to die, for your victory to be complete." "We do," Tahlen said without emotion, as though they were discussing the weather. "I am prepared to lead my men in their final charge, to die in battle, if it means that my people will be safe." Tahlen looked carefully at him, appraising the offer. "I accept this offer. But I want you to understand that, if you attempt to double-cross me, the people of your country will suffer for it." "What can I possibly do against such numbers as I have seen today?" "Nothing at all." It was not a boast. James nodded. "I'm sorry to say that I agree." "Then it's a deal. Expect to wait at least a month before I contact you with a time and place. Keep your army hidden and, by all means," Tahlen grinned, "continue to snap at my supply lines. It's a wasted exercise, but it would be a shame for the world to think you had just handed it to me so easily." "Don't pretend this has been easy," James shot back, anger flashing in his eyes. "It's been a fight, for both of us." Tahlen shrugged. "I admit you have been my most difficult opponent, and for that I congratulate you. But I hardly think I've lost nearly as much to this war as you have." James watched him silently, tears pooling in his eyes. "I suppose not." "You should go, now. My men will escort you to where your own party of guards waits. You will find them unharmed. I will send word to you about this final 'confrontation' shortly. In the meantime, I have other things to attend to." He took the hand that was not resting on Nina's head and hooked his thumb inside the waistband of his trousers. He pulled slightly, causing them to lower just enough for James to see the beginning of his dark, thick pubic patch. The muscles of his lower stomach twitched with excitement, and his other hand slipped down from the top of Nina's head to the back, ready to draw her to him. He gripped her long hair tight. James looked away in disgust. He felt his body try to vomit, as though expelling his breakfast would be tantamount to expelling what he had just seen. He held it back, though. He turned, dizzily, and moved towards the door. "Oh, James. One more thing." He paused, woozy on his feet. "I want to add another item to our deal." "That's not happening." "Oh, I think it is. Turn around." Slowly, James turned, terrified he might see his wife engaged in some lewd act. Instead, he saw they hadn't moved. He did, however, see Nina looking longingly up at the dark hair reaching over the partially lowered pants. "You see," Tahlen continued, "I forgot to mention something..." he snapped, and a guard entered with two children in tow. James gasped. Cindy and Jane, caked in dirt and sprouting bruises but otherwise looking healthy, were pushed to the ground by the vicious-looking guard. "What...what..." James stuttered. "The addition," Tahlen continued casually, "is this: if you do as you have promised, I am willing to consider letting them live. I will even have my men find a nice family for them to join. They will not be harmed any more than they have been, on my life." James stared at their fearful faces. "In return for?" Tahlen smiled, and nodded down towards Nina's eager eyes. "The girls will live. They will be safe. But in return," his smile grew larger, meaner, "I want you to watch this happen."