Kiera of Gor (17)

17: The Rencers

“Keep your heads down,” snarled Brinn as he moved us to the long rence grass that grew up to four feet in height in clumps on this lagoon island. He had seen the peasant bows in the hands of the rencers and that had made him uncharacteristically cautious now.

I had been the first to see the men as they arrived in flat bottomed skiffs, propelled through the fens and waterways by a single pole each, and I was the one to sound the alarm and warn the master before we had been able to reach the safety of our own boat. The skiffs were made of woven rence which grows everywhere in the vosk delta. It is a Gorean plant very similar to papyrus. The plant grows quickly, burrowing deep into the swampy soil with a long, thick, woody root before emerging in a long stem that ends in a tuft of leaves or flowers. Rence paper is made from it through a process of splitting, soaking and pressing the stems but it has many other uses too. It burns well once it is dry and the stems can be woven together to make marsh boats, or twisted and split into fibres to make ropes or coarse cloth. Steeped, boiled and fermented, crushed rence seeds and pith is even made into a beer, though I suspect it wouldn't win any CAMRA awards back on Earth.

I counted three skiffs each with three men on board, making nine men in total.

“They heard the fight,” said Brinn. The clash of swords and screaming had echoed through the waterways for maybe half a pasang due to the prevailing winds. “And they have bows.”

Brinn seemed to fear or at least respect the long bow which these men carried. They were unmistakably marsh dwelling men from the style of their clothing and they moved across the sodden ground in well rehearsed teams. Each set of three men remained close together, but never so close that there was less than five yards between them. They had arrows notched to their bow strings ready to draw at a moment's notice and they watched and listened as they moved through their native territory.

“Master,” I whispered and received a hand over my mouth for my effort.

“Quiet,” Brinn hissed. “No one speaks.” He pushed my head further down into the long grass as he studied their formations. “They know someone is here. They are searching.”

My mistress crouched close beside Brinn, maybe just a foot and a half from his side. Her hands were still fully occupied holding her torn gowns across her upper body. The Lady Ameena with her wrists tightly bound behind the small of her back knelt in tower to the side of Marissa.

I saw one of the lead men place his fingers in his mouth and make a whistling sound that resembled the cry of one of the marsh gants. He then raised that hand in a fist and made a distinctive and silent signal that the others read as an instruction to fan out into a long drawn out crescent formation.

“They will find us,” said Brinn grimly.

“Can you kill them?” whispered Marissa as she moved even closer to Brinn.

“They have bows,” he said, “and the teams of three are aware of one another. If I attack one, the other two will draw and fire.”

“What do they want?” she whispered.

“They do not know yet what they want because they do not know what they will find.”

“They will find us,” said Marissa.

“Yes. They will bind the three of you and take you to their village. There you and Ameena will be enslaved. You will either be kept as rencer slaves or sold to Port Kar. Me they will kill.”

Marissa looked horrified. “You are Brinn of the Sardar! The hero of all Gor! Save me!”

“That is my intention Lady.” Brinn gazed in the direction of the plank wharf where our boat and the rencer skiffs were tethered. To get to any of the vessels we would have to slip past these bowmen. I didn't think that was going to happen.

I glanced at my mistress and saw what abject terror looked like close up. It was etched on her face and that of the Lady Ameena too. Slavery is bad enough at any time, but I suspect to be a slave in the peasant villages of the vosk delta marshes would be even worse than my experience in the peasant village when I had been tethered to a plough for two hours. I did not want to be a slave to peasants, so how much more terrifying was the prospect to two pampered free women of the cities? Their fall from grace would be a thousand, no, ten thousand times worse than my own.

“I have never depended on you more than I do now, Brinn,” said Marissa as she too watched the rencer patrols getting closer to where we hid. “I am a free woman. Your codes demand that you protect me.”

“I know my codes,” said Brinn through gritted teeth. “Do you yourself understand them in full?”

“What do you mean?”

“A discussion for another time perhaps,” said Brinn as he indicated I should shuffle closer. My knees were muddy as I crouched beside the warrior, keeping my head below the top of the rence grass stalks.

“I am going to need some fabric from your tunic, Kiera,” said Brinn as he drew his sleen knife and cut away some of the hem. My garment now was much shorter, barely covering my upper thighs as it did on most other slave girls who weren't owned by women. I watched as Brinn folded the cloth into a thick square and then forced it into the astonished Lady Ameena's mouth. “I am gagging you,” he said as he then secured the wadding in place with a length of binding fibre tied at the back of her head. She offered a muffled whimper but could say nothing more. “I do not wish you to alert the rencers to our position when you run.”

Ameena looked confused by this.

“Do you wish to die Lady Ameena?” asked Brinn. She shook her head furiously to assure him she didn't. “Good. Do you wish to be a captive of the rencers?” he then asked. Again she shook her head negatively. “I see.” He placed the edge of the sleen knife close to the soft skin of her throat. “I can ensure you do not fall into the clutches of the rencers by making one final cut,” he suggested, but as said that, Ameena's eyes grew wild and she shook her head furiously again. “You do not wish me to do that?” he said. Again she shook her head. “Then I will ask you again, do you prefer to be captured by the rencers?” Now, with reluctance, knowing the alternative, she nodded, tears in her eyes. “Good. We are getting somewhere. In a moment I am going to cut your wrists free. You will then emerge from the tall grass in a state of panic and run at a ninety degree angle away from the rencer patrol. They will see you break cover and will pursue.”

Lady Ameena shook her head in terror, but when Brinn raised the sleen knife again she quickly ceased her silent protests.

“Their pursuit of you will give me the chance to get the other two girls to a place of hiding. Now, you may consider in a spiteful notion, leading the rencers back to us. Let me explain why this is not in your best interests. I will certainly have time to kill at least one person before I too am killed. First on the list will be you. Do you understand?”

Lady Ameena nodded.

“Secondly, there is a chance, a slim chance I agree, but a chance nonetheless, that by running furiously in the direction I order, you may escape the rencers. The trail leads deeper into the fens and they may be reluctant to stray too far from their skiffs. It is a slim chance, but it is better than no chance, would you not agree?”

She nodded again.

“I am prepared to make it easier for you to run, if you like, by cutting two vertical slits down the sides of your robes from hips to ankles. Would you like me to do that for you?'

Ameena considered this for a moment. Her legs would be bare as she ran, but she would no longer be encumbered by the constricting fabric on her lower body. Reluctantly she nodded again. Brinn cut two deep vertical slashes in her gowns starting from the hips. He then cut the binding fibre from her wrists and turned back to us.

“Once the Lady has drawn the rencers away, the three of us will head to our left using the clumps of tall grass for cover. You will keep your heads down and move quickly. I will hold both of you by your hair in leading position to aid in that.”

Marissa made to object but seeing how determined Brinn looked, she stayed quiet.

“Depending on what we find we will either find a place to hide or attempt to circle round to the boats. Lady Marissa, I apologise for this, but I need you to lie flat on your stomach. Do so now.”

“Why? What are you going to do, Brinn?”

“We do not have much time, Lady. Do you wish to be a rencer slave girl?”

“No! No, of course not!” she shrank back a few inches.

“Then do as I say if you wish to remain a free woman.”

Marissa obeyed the master and lay flat on her stomach. She whimpered as she felt his sleen knife cut away the remains of her clothing. “You need to be able to move quickly, Lady,” he said simply. “I am sorry for this.”

Marissa sobbed quietly. She dared not get up without revealing her naked breasts and the sight of her sex. She couldn't see how Brinn now looked at her in her nudity, gazing at her ass, the smooth soft curve of her lower back, the swell of her hips and the long beautiful legs. He regarded me and I simply nodded to him. Yes, I seemed to say, my mistress is very beautiful. Possibly slave beautiful. I saw him gaze at her ankles, perhaps speculating as men are wont to do, what those ankles might look like in steel chains.

But my mistress was not a slave. My mistress was a free woman.

“It is time for you to run, Lady Ameena,” said Brinn as he motioned in the direction she should take. Gagged as she was she wouldn't be able to call out to the rencers and let them know there were other people hiding here. And because the gag was secured by a simple strand of binding fibre, the rencers would be ignorant of it until they caught her. “I wish you good luck, Lady, truly I do.”

And with that he tapped her shoulders. Ameena sprang to her feet, took one startled look around at the wind swept fen and as fast as she could she ran blindly in the direction she had been told to take.

Within seconds I heard cries break out as the line of rencers caught sight of a fleeing free woman in flapping gowns. They lowered their bows, wishing to capture rather than kill, and seeing the prey running swiftly they broke out into a fast run themselves, ignoring our hiding place as they sped after the free woman.

“It is time for you to rise, Lady,” said Brinn as he watched the receding figures.

“I am naked!” whimpered Marissa in fear.

“I am sorry about that, but I cannot have your movement impeded by the lower half of your gown that hadn't been torn away. Kneel, Lady. You must be ready to move when I give the word.”

Marissa looked wretched as she rose up, her hands folded over her breasts and her thighs pressed incredibly tightly together. Brinn regarded her beauty with a sharp intake of breath that was obvious to Marissa and I.

“I am a free woman...” said Marissa as she understood what Brinn's expression inferred.

“That you are, Lady.” But his eyes flitted to Marissa's left hip where on me he would find a slave brand.

“I am not branded!” she hissed when she recognised where he was looking.

“Forgive me, Lady. It is instinct, nothing more, when I have a naked woman kneeling before me.”

“Your eyes...” said Marissa as she knelt there, trying to be as modest as was possible under the circumstances. Brinn kindly looked away from her, though I could see he was aroused. This was hardly the time or place though for him to make use of a woman.

We waited maybe another minute and then Brinn placed a hand in the hair of each of us and rose up to a crouching/standing position. We both followed suit, Marissa and I bent over double as our hair was used in the manner of a close leash. “Be careful with your footing,” said Brinn as he led us both at a steady pace through the wetlands in the opposite direction of the fleeing Lady Ameena.

Marissa splashed helplessly through the tepid water that in some places rose to her lower calves. In other places it was perhaps ankle deep, and in a few places the ground was more solid, though still water logged. We were hurried in the manner of slave girls in leading position, which must have been an alarming experience for my mistress. We had no choice but to pace the master perfectly or else risk our hair being pulled. My mistress of course kept her arms crossed over her breasts as she stumbled and followed him, so she was unable to use them to steady herself. Once she slipped in ankle deep water and mud and cried out before Brinn swiftly clamped a hand over her mouth. I do not think she had been heard, but it made Brinn uneasy and he forced us both down in the grass for several minutes while he listened for any sign that the rencers might have heard the soft cry.

“I do not wish to gag you, Lady,” said Brinn, “but if I have to do so?”

“No, Brinn, there is no need to gag me.”

“Good.” He pulled her back onto her feet and took hold of her hair again, bending her body down to a position close to his hips. Brinn began to circle towards the decaying wharf where our row boat was tethered, but the roundabout route we took came up against a stretch of open water that was fed by the lagoon. I could see at the far side a stretch of marsh land that ranged for maybe one hundred metres to the wharf, but to reach it from here we would have to cross twenty yards of open water.

“Can you both swim?” he asked.

“No!” said Marissa in sudden alarm as he allowed her to crouch in some long grass. “I'm afraid of water.”

“That... doesn't help...” said Brinn with a long drawn out sigh. Suddenly he seemed alert and he ducked down. I then heard it too – the unmistakable sound of a marsh gant calling out from where the rencers had pursued Ameena.

“They found her,” said Brinn. “She told them we're here.” He gazed at the stretch of water that separated us from our boat.

“Brinn, I cannot go in the water!” said Marissa already feeling the fear rising inside her stomach.

“I can swim Master,” I said. “Could we help the mistress across?”

“No!” Marissa backed away. “I cannot go in the water!”

“She would be hysterical, I think. My girl Emma is like this with enclosed spaces. I have seen it. They would find us before we were halfway across and they have bows.” Brinn looked further left where the marshland reached a small copse of trees and surrounding vegetation. There were thickets of what resembled bamboo growing further on.

“The only thing we can do is find somewhere to hide until the rencers give up looking for us.”

“Do not seize my hair again,” demanded Marissa. “Do not put me in leading position! It is humiliating!” Brinn simply seized her hair and brought her down to waist height, leading us both quickly towards the forest of bamboo stalks. Once inside we waded through maybe a foot deep of water in search of somewhere to wait out our enemies. The bamboo was tall, taller even than us, and once we were ten yards into its midst Brinn allowed us both to stand.

“I told you not to leash me by my hair!” cried Marissa. Her hands gripped the tops of her shoulders so that her breasts might be covered by her forearms.

“We will wait here,” said Brinn, ignoring her protests. “If they try and search the bamboo thickets they will do so at a disadvantage as their bows will be useless in close quarters fighting. If they suspect there is a warrior here they will be reluctant to enter the bamboo.”

And so we waited and we waited. The sun began to set over the vosk delta lagoons and still Brinn did not permit us to move out in search of the wharf and our boat.

“Can we not leave?” asked Marissa as she sat there looking miserable.

“No,” said Brinn. “They will be waiting for us to do that.” He was sharpening the edge of his blade slowly and quietly with a whetstone. “We stay here until it is very dark. Even then I may have to kill a couple of men.”

“I'm cold. I'm wet and I'm naked, Brinn!” Being completely naked, except for one slipper – the other one was lost somewhere in the sucking mud of the fens - Marissa did not now kneel in tower as was the fashion for free women, but rather she rested on her buttocks with her knees raised in front of her, ankles crossed and arms wrapped around her legs for added security. She rested her chin on her raised knees and tried to seem as small as possible in the marsh fen.

“I am sorry for that, Lady, but at least you are not currently being branded with the kef mark on your left thigh in a remote rencer village with a white hot iron. Your day could be a lot worse than it currently is.”

“I suppose I am grateful,” she said. “You acted quickly and professionally. I will commend your actions to Samos.”

“Will you now,” said Brinn as he continued to sharpen his blade.

“He will of course expect a full report.”

“I'm sure he will.”

“I will be the one to carefully word that report, of course.”

Brinn gazed at her and then just shrugged his shoulders. “As you wish, Lady. Your legs are beautiful by the way.”

“What?! What did you say?! How dare you!” She pulled her legs further in to her body and tried to conceal them as best she could with her arms.

Brinn looked back, puzzled. “I paid you a compliment. Did you not assure me last night that I could compliment you and you wouldn't be offended?”

“You are impossible! Don't look at me! Do not look at me!” she hissed. “Do not look at my legs!”

Brinn sighed. “I have already seen them. There is not much point concealing them further.”

“Give me your tunic, Kiera,” said Marissa as she gazed at me over her raised knees. I quickly complied and pulled the snug, clinging fabric from my body and presented it to her.

“What are you doing?” asked Brinn.

“I'm taking this garment,” said Marissa, irritated to have to describe what was plainly obvious.

“When you say garment, you are referring to that slave tunic?”

“Yes.” Marissa held the skimpy bit of rep cloth in her right hand. It weighed very little.

“Who commonly wears a slave tunic?” asked Brinn.

“Slaves,” said Marissa as she regarded his stern look of disapproval. “Slaves, obviously.”

“Anyone else?”

“Well, no...”

“So we agree that a woman who wears a slave tunic is a slave?” suggested Brinn.

“I'm naked!” cried Marissa. “This is better than nothing!”

“Am I hearing you correctly, Lady?” said Brinn as he turned his full attention to her. “You are telling me you wish to dress as a slave? Do you desire a collar too? That could always be arranged.” He seemed angry.

“You're being absurd! Of course I don't desire a collar! I'm not a slave!”

“And yet you crave the garment of a slave. You are a free woman, Lady. Free women do not desire to wear slave garb. They would be offended by the merest suggestion. The merest touch of a slave garment to a free woman's skin is abhorrent. Only free women who are natural slaves would wish to wear such a thing.”

“This is ludicrous! I have nothing else to wear! I'm not a natural slave! The alternative is being naked!”

“Your tragic state of undress is a matter of unfortunate circumstance, and one that until now you have borne with the dignity becoming a free woman. It is a matter beyond your choice and therefore does not reflect badly on you. It endears my sympathy and pity and drives me therefore to protect you. Craving a slave tunic however, with no coercion on my part, or that of any other man, that is a matter of personal choice, and again I have to remind you that no stoic free woman would choose to wear the degrading piece of rep cloth worn by slaves, any more than she would ask for a collar to be placed around her throat.”

“I'm a free woman!”

“Until now I have assumed you are. But a free woman would never dress as a slave. So I am asking you one last time, Lady. Do you desire to dress as a slave?”

There was something about Brinn's tone of voice that made Marissa shrink back a little and drop the scrap of rep cloth as if it is was white hot.

“No...” she whispered softly. “I do not.”

“And why is that, Lady?”

“It would be degrading... it is a scandalous garment... I am a free woman... I do not wear slave tunics...” she said reluctantly as she eyed the garment on the grass.

“Good.” Brinn picked up the piece of clothing and tossed it back to me. I did not immediately dress myself as I had not been given permission.

“Wait!” said Marissa suddenly “If I am to be naked here, then Kiera can be naked too.”

“Now you are just being petty, Lady,” said Brinn. “The girl has done nothing that warrants being stripped of clothing.”

“She is my property!” exclaimed Marissa. “I choose when she wears a tunic and when she is naked, and today she will be naked. I will not wear less than she does!” She turned to me and said, “you are not to dress yourself, slut!”

“Yes, Mistress,' I said, placing the garment back on the grass.

Brinn did not seem happy about this, but as always he demurred to the wishes of a free woman. Despite my having been a slave on Gor for several months now, it felt strange to be kneeling naked in front of a man. Marissa had always been very careful to ensure that never happened and that I was always tunicked when we were on the street or if she was entertaining men at her house in Corcyrus. I was never to appear sexual, and to that end I was always permitted clothing. Now though I was naked before Brinn, naked before a man for the first time since being sold in Corcyrus. I felt a rush of blood to my head and to other parts of my body that produced an exciting sensation of giddy apprehension. I knelt in tower, but some inner voice screamed at me that I should really part my thighs before a man such as Brinn. I knew though that I would be beaten by my mistress if I even tried.

I felt his eyes on me for he had never seen me naked until now. And the knowledge that he was studying my body with interest added to my excitement. Did he like what he saw? I could only hope so. How I longed for his touch! Was that so bad? That I desired the touch of a man who was a natural master to women? I looked at Marissa and thought how stupid and vain she was.

“I have a request to make, Lady,” said Brinn as he continued to look at me. “This has been a stressful day. I have had to fight and kill four men. I almost had to fight a band of rencers. I may still have to. The Adrenaline rush is wearing off and I need to relax my stressed muscles and recover. The use of a woman helps.”

“What?!? Marissa stared at him.

“I ask permission to use your slave. It will help me relax and help me recover from the adrenaline crash.”

I looked up in shock. Brinn had just asked for my use?! I felt another rush of blood to my head and a stirring deep between my thighs. I suddenly felt dizzy with excitement.

“You want to put Kiera to use?” said Marissa in disbelief.

“With your permission, Lady. Sex helps with post combat recovery.”

“No! No you can't!” She looked angry. “Absolutely not!”

“It would help me relax,” said Brinn. “I need a woman. I have limited options. Why should this be a problem? I could use her out of your line of sight. I wouldn't expect you to have to watch.”

“Your urges are not my concern, Brinn!” Now she turned to regard me. “Kiera, dress yourself, slut! You're shameful! I'll have you beaten when we get back! Filthy slut!” She picked up the discarded tunic and threw it at me, angry that my nudity had obviously aroused the master. I did as she said and quickly pulled the thin fabric down over my body and smoothed it over my hips with my fingers. It occurred to me that to a casual observer we must resemble a coffle of girls belonging to a master. It also occurred to me that commonly it was always the lowest ranking girls in the coffle who were denied clothing of any kind. I liked the thought of that, and I imagined that both Marissa and I were in Brinn's coffle, that she had been stripped and enslaved, if not yet branded, and that she was now beneath me in the coffle arrangement. I think every slave girl belonging to a mistress dreams of this from time to time.

Brinn seemed angry, very angry. He had been denied the use of a slave, who ordinarily under the circumstances would be offered as a common courtesy. He no doubt was genuinely suffering from the throes of an adrenaline crash and I suppose it made sense for him to relax with a girl if that is how he usually recovered his strength. “The girl has done nothing wrong, Lady. She was naked because you denied her clothing. The sight of her stirred natural desires in me.”

“She's my slave, Brinn. I'll have her whipped any time I want!” Marissa also seemed livid as she hugged her legs and knees closer to her seated body.

“You would really refuse me her use?”

“Yes!” snapped Marissa. “Go find some other slut to pleasure you!”

“Some... other slut...” said Brinn.

“You're a warrior. You should understand the concept of self discipline!”

“I need a woman,” said Brinn simply as he gazed at my mistress. “I want a woman.”

“That is not my problem!”

I saw Brinn clench his hands into fists as he gazed at Marissa's bare legs, and then he forced himself to relax them.

“I... want... a woman...” There was a violent hungry look in Brinn's eyes now that scared me as he gazed at Marissa once again. I knew without a shred of a doubt that a man who looked like that would not be denied what he wanted.

“Brinn... why are you looking at me like that...” cried Marissa as Brinn slid a few inches towards her. She was now in what I referred to previously as 'binding distance'. “You are too close...” she could not go any further back herself because of the bamboo thicket. “Brinn, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to anger you in any way. I am sorry. Very sorry. Please forgive me. I was rude. I offended you. I realise that now. I am afraid. You have to understand I am very scared. It affected my judgement. This is a tense, stressful situation for both of us. But I shouldn't have been so rude to you. Please forgive me, Brinn.” There were tears in her eyes now as Brinn loomed over her. “I was petty. I was mean. Please forgive a free woman who owes you her life.”

“Yes,” said Brinn quietly. “You do owe me your life, don't you, Lady Marissa.”

“I will of course allow you full use of Kiera. Of course I will.” She turned to regard me with tears running down her cheeks “Kiera. Strip before Brinn. Hurry, slut. Remove your tunic. Display yourself! Interest the master!”

I made to do so, but was stopped in my tracks when Brinn simply said, “no, do not remove your tunic, Kiera.” My trembling hands left the hem of my tunic just as I was about to pull it up over my body.

“I don't understand,” said Marissa. “You can use her. You have my permission. You can use her any way you wish! She will please you, Brinn, or I will whip her tomorrow.”

“I no longer wish to put Kiera to use,” said Brinn simply.

There was suddenly a crack of a twig snapping under a heavy foot just ten yards to our left. In an instant Brinn span round with the gladius drawn in his right hand from its scabbard.

And then a second later they came for us through the bamboo.