Kiera of Gor (15)

15: A dark rendezvous of sorts as my Mistress seeks to demonstrate her resourcefulness as Samos's agent

“Did she mention she was going to bring four guards?” asked Brinn as he subtly adjusted the position of his sword’s scabbard in order to facilitate a more rapid draw of the blade. He looked magnificent of course – a true man – not like the insipid men of Earth that I had often teased and manipulated for my own amusement.

Just kneeling close to him gave me a delicious sense of sexual anticipation that I would never dare admit to Sophia. Brinn made me feel vulnerable and needy and I resented the fact that he was so wrapped up in his mission that he barely glanced at me. I knelt on marshy ground on one of the lagoon islands tucked away in the vosk delta just a short distance from the main city walls. This was still Port Kar territory, but if we travelled on up river for a few pasangs we would then be in undisputed Rencer territory and risk attack.

It was noticeable that nothing whatsoever had been said about last night.

The elephant was most certainly in the room as far as last night was concerned.

“She’s a Free Woman involved in a shadowy and secretive society, Brinn. She will be nervous, overly paranoid and probably concerned that she has enemies everywhere,” said my Mistress as she too gazed down at the simple wooden wharf where the Lady Ameena’s men were securing her gondola. “There won’t be any need for sword play,” she added as she noticed the way Brinn tested the smooth draw of his blade by sliding it an inch or two from the supple sheath. “Honestly, you warriors...”

“Oh?” Brinn remarked without turning his gaze away from the group of figures at the bottom of the hillock.

“Rest assured I will have the situation completely in hand. Leave everything to me,” said Marissa with a sense of confidence that impressed Brinn. “As far as the Lady Ameena is concerned, I am a potential recruit who supports her cause. It is natural she wishes to meet me in private before I am welcomed with open arms into her conspiracy.”

“This is a remote island in a remote lagoon,” said Brinn as he gazed back at the wooden shack surrounded by bushes and other wind swept foliage at its summit. “We can’t even see Port Kar from here.”

“But of course. Seclusion and secrecy is everything. Relax, Brinn.” Marissa placed a hand on his sword arm and tapped it briefly with her fingers. “I will easily win her confidence and approval. It is what I do. Just politely act the part you’re supposed to play – that of my private obedient guardsman, and leave everything else to me. And as for you, Kiera, if asked, you were once a free woman of Tharna who was reduced to abject slavery and yearns for the day when the glory of Tharna will rise once again.”

I had been briefed on enough facts pertaining to Tharna to at least answer basic questions but I wasn't sure how well my cover would hold if anyone pressed the point.

“I see. I do have a question though, Lady,” said Brinn.

“Of course you do. You always have so many questions,” said Marissa in exasperation. “Honestly, Brinn, it can be tiresome sometimes.”

“Nevertheless my question is quite pertinent at this point, bearing in mind the Lady Ameena has chosen to meet us on an isolated, hidden private island far from the sight of anyone in Port Kar, and she has brought four guardsmen to the meeting. My question is, how well do you know this Lady Ameena?”

“I don’t know her in the slightest. She contacted me in response to the things I have been saying in public. This will be the first time we meet and speak.” Marissa smoothed down the fabulous fabrics of her outer gowns. Despite Brinn’s previously stated preferences she still wore her gowns and robes tightly belted to accentuate her curvaceous figure. My Mistress was referring to the plan she had put into action many week agos, whereby she began to speak quite openly in public of her admiration for the old Tharna regime, of how feminine dominance was the true natural order of the day, as evidenced by the economic success of several Gorean city states who were ruled by Tatrixes, and how she personally supported any endeavour that promoted Free Women to a position of power. It was bait thrown out randomly throughout Port Kar in the hope of coming to the attention of the Shadow Council. My Mistress assumed that like any other organisation it had to recruit new members to grow its strength, power and influence, and being a covert society it presumably found people of interest, observed them for a while, and if they seemed promising candidates, contacted them quietly to bring them into the fold. After weeks of speaking loudly at various social functions in Port Kar, My Mistress had received a carefully worded letter from Lady Ameena who declared that she liked what Marissa had been saying and proposed meeting her outside the walls of Port Kar to discuss matters of mutual interest. The succulent bait had been taken, it seemed.

My Mistress had wasted no time in exchanging a few equally ambiguous letters and resolved to meet Lady Ameena on a quiet and secluded island in one of the outer lagoons. The Lady Ameena had promised her a life changing opportunity.

Brinn seemed to frown as he saw the Lady Ameena stride purposefully up the sloping hillock, closely followed by her four guardsmen. They all carried sword scabbards that were slung over their left shoulders, meaning they were right handed as most Goreans are. The blades were held in positions where the hilts could be gripped quickly and the weapons drawn without warning. The men did not however wear helmets and they carried no shields. This was not after all a war situation. They were simply guardsmen there to protect the Lady who employed them, and bearing in mind we were just a couple of pasangs outside Rencer lands, this was probably a wise precaution.

“I would be correct in assuming then,” said Brinn, “that prior to coming here you researched and investigated this Lady Ameena, utilising all the available resources of the Priest King network to do so?”

“By no means. I saw no need,” said Marissa. “I want to claim all the glory for infiltrating the Shadow Council for myself alone – it will be a considerable feather in my cap and will lift my status to lofty levels rarely enjoyed by Free Women employed by the Sardar. The last thing I want is the involvement of junior petty bureaucratic agents who will attempt to steal some of my glory simply because they consulted a few dusty scrolls and transcribed their contents. Everything we need to know about the Lady Ameena I will discover in a few minutes once I speak to her. Look how eager she is to meet me! In her last letter she advised considerable haste in arranging a time and a place!”

“And yet there are four guards,” said Brinn again. The men and their employer were now but thirty yards from the summit of the hillock with its small single wooden shack. Brinn had already inspected it of course in advance and had satisfied himself that it was nothing more than an abandoned shack, desolate, isolated, and without any further men at arms hidden in the vicinity. It was mostly empty save for a table, some boxes, old sack cloth, and a barrel or two. Like most Gorean buildings it had a couple of iron slave rings bolted into the walls.

“She will, I am sure, invite me to join the Shadow Council. At a stroke I will be privy to the secret workings of these people, and in time I will work my way into their full trust and no doubt rise through their ranks, all the while feeding back valuable information of their plans and schemes to Samos. I may even come to the attention of the Priest Kings themselves. I may even be awarded a great estate as you were!” The Lady Marissa seemed very excited by the prospect and the abundant possibilities.

“I remain concerned that there are four armed men approaching us,” said Brinn.

“How absurd! There really is nothing to fear,” explained Marissa. “She is on the one hand very keen to meet me. She hopes that I will prove suitable for induction into her conspiracy, but consider the risks from her point of view. This could so easily be a trap designed to ensnare a Free Woman.”

“You think so?” said Brinn as he regarded the isolated location again.

“But of course. Why this is precisely the sort of remote location where a Free Woman could find herself in trouble if she was tricked into meeting someone here.”

“I see your point in that,” said Brinn. “I'm not sure you do though...”

“She is obviously cautious, and rightly so, for a Free Woman with insufficient guards could find herself helpless in a place like this. It is understandable then that she does not wish to take such a risk.”

“Hence the four guards?” asked Brinn.

“Hence the four guards, yes.”

“Why then do we not have four guards?”

“Because we don’t need them! How many times do I have to explain – the Lady Ameena is desperate to meet me. She is intrigued by the statements I have been making in Port Kar this past week – statements carefully constructed so as to appeal to the members of this Shadow Council and attract their attention. She will want to know who I am, and why I have been telling everyone I meet how fervent I am in my desire to elevate the position of Free Women in Port Kar. She no doubt admires the things have said, and only her caution that this is not a trap has dictated meeting me at a lonely and isolated place such as this.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever had to fight four men before,” mused Brinn. “Hopefully you are right.”

“Of course I am right. Trust me, Brinn, I am experienced in such matters. But please, try not to appear menacing in any way. I do not want them to think we pose a threat.”

---------------------------------

We had been in Port Kar for nearly three weeks by the time my mistress announced last night that the shadow conspiracy had contacted her. She had deliberately delayed breaking the news until shortly before the time Brinn was due to leave for the night and see that we locked and bolted our doors securely.

“A toast, perhaps?” she said as she removed the stopper from a flask of wine.

“A toast to what, Lady? Another week of you dining at cafes?”

“A toast to our first success of course, Brinn,” said my mistress as she poured two goblets of ka-la-na wine. “They have made contact. We shall meet them tomorrow on a piece of marshland close to the vosk delta mouth.”

“Oh.” Brinn seemed both surprised and pleased. “Good news indeed, Lady. I shall indeed drink to that.” I saw that as usual he couldn't help but gaze at Marissa's bare lips. They are very beautiful lips, I suppose, ripe, full and very kissable if you happen to be a Gorean man, and Brinn had to some degree fixated upon them since my mistress still went without veils within her home. She gave him the wine with her left hand and as she took it, she briefly touched the back of his hand with the fingers of her right hand. The contact must have been electric for Brinn as I saw his hand twitch slightly. I sensed an intake of breath on his part. And then as if nothing much had happened, my mistress used her right hand to retrieve her own wine goblet.

“To our partnership, mighty Brinn of the Sardar,” she said, raising her glass.

“To the graceful Lady Marissa of Corcyrus,” said Brinn in a throaty voice. His eyes regarded her carefully.

“To the strong, handsome Brinn,” added Marissa, extending the toast, her gaze lingering on him for a moment.

Brinn seemed to grip the stem of his glass hard enough to shatter it. “To... a beautiful free woman...” he eventually said. I got the impression this was uncertain ground for him.

“Beautiful?” Marissa pretended pleasant surprise as she placed the palm of one hand on her breast in a swoon like motion.

“It is...” Brinn seemed to cough, “what you are... Lady... this isn't a conversation we should be having.”

“Oh?” Marissa boldly took a step forward. She regarded the warrior with doe-like eyes. “Surely there is nothing in your codes that forbids you paying an innocent compliment to a woman? I am hardly offended...”

“Well, perhaps I should be going...” said Brinn a bit too quickly as he caught the soft beautiful scent of the perfume in her hair. It was deeply feminine without being lewd or vulgar like slave perfumes are. It had cost ten silver tarsks for a small stoppered vial, or so my mistress had told me.

“So soon? You will depart without finishing your wine? You'll simply see us bolt our doors for the night?”

“There is a kaissa game unfinished...” Brinn's eyes were drawn now to the merest glimpse of Marissa's bare throat where a single clasp of her gown had somehow worked itself loose. He could see that soft skin, unmarked by a slave collar.

“You should teach me how to play kaissa one day...” suggested Marissa softly as she again took another bold step towards Brinn. “Then you could try to take my Ubara piece...” She was now within easy reach of his hands. He could if he wished, seize her in an instant without taking a step forward himself. Goreans refer to it as a woman placing herself within binding distance.

“Kaissa is not a game for women. You would be bored.”

“That depends on how good the lessons are,” she said with a smile as she then sipped her wine. “I would learn to defend my Ubara piece to the best of my ability. She would be a very virtuous Ubara in the face of your... savage kaissa moves...”

Oh... my... god...

I had never seen Brinn look so bewildered before. He really had no idea how to respond to any of this from a free woman. THIS was the man who would simply take hold of a slave, throw her on a couch, ravage her for close to three hours and then tell her to wake him in the morning with her mouth around his penis?

It seemed that Brinn tried to think of something polite to say. “The wine is very good, Lady.”

“I'm pleased. You'll find this amusing, I know, but it is one of the high vintages of Cos, often costing as much as a silver tarsk a bottle, taken as plunder I believe by the raiders of Port Kar. It is commonly sold as an expensive couching wine to be served during tender love making between free companions. Isn't that amusing?” She sipped her wine again as she regarded him.

“It is... fine enough to be one of those, yes,” said Brinn as he tried to recover from an unexpected choking cough.

Oh... my... god...

“I like you, Brinn of the Sardar,” said Marissa quietly and with a softness to her voice. “I would not have allowed just anyone to see me unveiled...” She took another soft step forwards and tilted her face ever so slightly.

“I will bid you good night, Lady,” said Brinn as he moved towards the door. “Be sure to fasten all your bolts securely, admit no one who knocks, and I will see you in the morning. My congratulations once again on a sound plan that has borne fruit. You have done very well!”

There was silence in the room for a while after Brinn left. I watched my mistress slowly finish her wine and place the glass carefully on a shelf. Her hand holding the glass had been shaking. She slid the bolts in place one at a time and then she motioned to me.

“I will retire now, Kiera. Undress me.”

I did so, taking my time so as not to snag any of the hooks or fastenings as I unravelled the layers of rich cloth from her body until she wore just the silken underslip. She remained silent and impassive throughout. When I had finished she walked quietly towards her room.

“You will not sleep in my bed chamber tonight, Kiera. Find yourself a blanket in the kitchen.” She entered her room and closed the door.

Within a few minutes I heard soft weeping from inside.

It can be hard to be a free woman on Gor.

-----------------------------

The woman wore red robes the colour of rich wine as she threaded a path across the sodden ground towards where we waited. Her four guards looked stern and professional in their demeanours and I felt Brinn become very alert as he gauged their skill from the way they had their scabbards placed across their bodies. I too could see that these were professional fighting men, schooled in the ways of weapons.

“Lady Marissa,” said the scarlet woman, “thank you for coming. I trust the journey wasn't too intrusive?”

“The conditions here are bleak,” said Marissa, “but I understand the nature of discretion and I am interested in what you have to say to me.”

“I am sure you are,” said the scarlet woman. “My name is the Lady Ameena and I trust this meeting will satisfy both our curiosities. Who is your man?” She regarded Brinn.

“My name is Brinn,” he said.

“You are a warrior?”

“I am that, yes.” While he talked to the Lady, his eyes never left the armed men the Lady had brought with her.

“I could not come here alone,” said Marissa. “That would be foolish.”

“Indeed.” She had of course ignored me. I was a slave, I didn't count.

“Where shall we talk?” asked Marissa.

“There is a small shack close to hand. It will lend our words some privacy. Our men will wait here.”

“Is that agreeable, Brinn?” asked Marissa. He simply nodded without taking his eyes from the armed men.

The door to the small wooden shack swung shut as the women entered. Brinn had already checked and confirmed that there was no working lock that mattered. He stood nearby facing the four guardsmen as they in turn regarded him with amusement. I knelt close to him, feeling a sense of menace pervading the damp marsh air.

“Nervous?” asked the bearded man on the right.

“Actually, yes. And it’s something of a new sensation for me. But then I’m not usually in a situation like this,” said Brinn with apparent good cheer.

“Not surprised you’re feeling nervous,” said the blonde haired man beside the bearded one. “Not a good position from a tactical point of view for you, is it?”

“Not really, no. I wouldn’t have chosen it to be honest,” said Brinn. His eyes didn’t leave those of the men.

“I mean, if something kicked off, if something happened…” said the blonde man. “You’d be really fucked, wouldn’t you?” He grinned.

“It’s certainly true I’d find the ensuing fight a challenge,” said Brinn pleasantly once again. “If of course something ‘kicked off’ as you said.”

“Better hope it doesn’t then,” said the bearded man. “We don’t take men prisoners.”

“And women?” asked Brinn out of curiosity. “Women such as this slave and the Lady Marissa?”

“Well now, that depends doesn’t it,” said the blonde man. “Your slave, obviously, yes. We can see she's worth taking. But your Lady? She certainly has an intriguing figure, based on what we can see from the way she has belted her gowns. Is she beautiful under that veil?”

“I think so,” said Brinn.

“Slave beautiful even?”

“Actually, yes, if I’m being truthful,” said Brinn with a chuckle. “The Lady Marissa would look good in a collar. She wouldn’t disgrace an auction block if she was exhibited naked, under the whip. But that is just my amateur opinion. I am not a professional slaver, you understand.”

I glanced up, shocked to hear Brinn speak of Marissa that way, though secretly I was pleased too. I tried to imagine my Mistress in a brief slave tunic and collar, made to kneel before Brinn. She would look good on her knees.

“Well then, women like her we would take prisoner. If the situation took a turn that way…”

“The Lady Marissa tells me that there is absolutely nothing to worry about,” said Brinn. All four of the men began to laugh as soon as they heard that. “You it seems have a different view on the matter?”

The tense atmosphere persisted as time seemed to crawl. The Ladies it seemed were talking at length for they had been gone for quite a while. Whatever was being said, the words were inaudible to Brinn’s ears, despite the ramshackle nature of the building. Tempted as he was to go and check through a shuttered window, he wasn’t going to take his eyes off the four armed men standing in a semi-circle near him, nor was he going to leave me on my own.

When eventually the wooden door did open, creaking once again on rusted hinges, only the Lady Ameena emerged. For a moment she stood there in the doorway, and for a moment Brinn possibly thought that maybe, just maybe the Lady Marissa would then emerge too to stand beside her. But instead the Lady Ameena simply dusted down the sleeve of her left arm with the palm of her right hand and she spoke three simple words to her men.

“Kill the fool.”

She had barely finished the second syllable when one of her men fell back screaming with his throat slashed open, and another of the men was suddenly blinded by a handful of thrown sand from Brinn’s left hand. He had been holding the sand since before the gondola had beached itself at the wharf down hill from their position. Brinn’s instincts were incredibly fast and he had his gladius out from its scabbard before Lady Ameena had finished the first word, ‘kill’. As the remaining two men began to draw their own weapons, Brinn engaged the first of them, stabbing forward with the point of the gladius, catching the man’s off hand arm as he instinctively raised it up to his chest to save his life. In doing so the man continued to live but at the cost of his left arm being maimed. He jumped back swiftly, finishing his draw in the process, but the shock of the blow meant he lost several precious seconds in the fight.

The remaining man whom Brinn had not had the opportunity to harm cleared his own blade and stabbed at Brinn who was now forced to shift his full attention to this new threat. As the men chopped, parried and countered one another, the startled Lady Ameena retreated back through the security of the single doorway into the shack. Her right hand was placed just below her throat in shock, just above the swell of her breasts as she took in the scene unfolding before her. Instead of Brinn being killed outright, one of her men was now dead, one of her men was temporarily unable to see and a third would probably lose the use of his left hand for life, so serious was the sword cut on his tendons. And now her fourth man was fighting for his life against a warrior who was clearly a master swordsman.

The clash of blades sounded very loud in the chill marsh air, with the sound echoing for pasangs around. I think the remaining assailant understood that Brinn was no common swordsman as he was pressed back by a successions of sharp cuts and thrusts that almost caused the man to stumble. The man was tiring, but Brinn wasn't. Grim faced like the angel of death incarnate, Brinn hammered away at the man's sword arm, finally breaking through the weakening guard and thrusting into his exposed chest. The man gurgled something final as he fell.

I watched in horror as Brinn methodically slew each of the injured men in turn, showing no mercy whatsoever.

And then, bloodied and savage looking, Brinn advanced on the closed single door of the simple marsh shack, his gladius clutched low in his right hand.