LEANORE 04 By Heck Comments to heck@beadyeye.net CHAPTER FOUR THE RAINS HAD come and gone, working their magic on the dry and dusty veldt. Brown and parched earth had given way to lush and verdant grassland, dotted with the multicoloured heads of myriad wild flowers that nodded in the gentle breeze. It was a time of plenty for the wildlife, the great migrations bulldozing across the plain like an invading army, driving forward with procreation-fuelled urgency. Everywhere, new life was springing up. The wild dogs and hyenas made dens in the abandoned aardvark earths which hid their pups, while the roaming wildebeest dropped their calves on the march, stopping to rest just long enough for their newborn calves to find their precocious feet. This season there was a new and sinister addition to the migration, a group that marched across the savannah, taking what they wanted without regard for the environment or heed for the delicate balance of the ecosystem. All the animals kept well out of their way, with the exception of the majestic elephant and the irascible buffalo, and even these lords of the plains stood watching with cautious curiosity until the newcomers had past. The column marched four abreast like a giant armoured millipede, footsore soldiers slogging across the grassland, ingrained discipline keeping them in perfect step like a single organism, despite the growing desire of each individual to throw himself down on the grass and sleep for a fortnight. The infantrymen were dressed in a uniform of leather plastron and backplate over short leather kilts and stout-soled sandals that were fastened by criss-crossed thongs about their calves. Each wore a bowl-shaped helmet of hardened leather, with hinged cheek pieces and extended at the back to protect the neck, and carried a long javelin and a rectangular shield curved in the vertical plane. When necessary, the shields could be locked together over their heads and around their flanks, forming an almost impenetrable shell of protection. Only one man was mounted. At the head of the column, seated on a tall white horse fitted with finely tooled tack, a heavy-set, jowly man who carried himself with an air of in-bred authority. His uniform was similar to those of the infantry only in that it was made of leather. His plastron, though, was black and highly polished, embossed in the shape of a muscular male torso [which bore little resemblance to the slightly flabby body beneath] with its highlights picked out in burnished gold leaf. He wore a red silk shirt underneath, protecting his body against the slightly rough armour, and a red cape hung from his artificially broad shoulders. His helmet was of the same glossy black leather as his armour, once again with gold highlights, and sported a red plume of stiff horsehair. The helmet was fitted with a visor that, ostensibly, could be lowered to guard his eyes. But the pivots were positioned in such a way that, if he did lower it, his vision would be impaired. In other words, it was for show. The small, slightly piggy eyes that peered from under the visor glittered with a quick, malign intelligence. They caught sight of a distant figure, sprinting across the plain toward the column, and he held up a hand to bring the column to a halt, signalling for them to rest. Gratefully, the men sank down on the grass. Leaning forward to rest an arm on the pommel, he fished inside his plastron to find a silk kerchief and wiped the sweat from his face while he waited for the runner to arrive. The runner was a woman, tall, lean and muscular, with an arrogant cast to her cruelly beautiful features. Dressed only in a loincloth and halter, her glossy black skin was streaked with dust and sweat, but she panted only slightly despite having run hard for several miles. As she neared the column she slowed to a walk, hips swaying seductively with each long stride as she approached without fear. A yard or two from the mounted man she stopped and dropped to her knees in a display of supplication, as was expected of her. But there was nothing submissive in her manner as, with head held proudly high, she met his gaze unflinchingly. The man looked down on her from the horse with the uncomfortably distinct feeling that he was looking at an equal. By the ancestors, she was something to look at! He took a minute to drink in the sight of her breasts, thrusting proudly against the thin material of her halter, the curving sweep of her muscular thighs, and mentally licked his lips as he felt a familiar tightening at his groin. One day. One day. A hardening of her gaze brought him out of his reverie. "Yes. What have you found?" "About three mile". Her tongue stumbled over the unfamiliar, newly learned words. "Over rise, by trees. Two. One man. One woman. Good for you. You take". Only two. He was hoping for more than that. After all these weeks in this blighted place he had hoped to have much more to show, and now he had only three weeks left, which would be taken up by the return journey. He shuddered inwardly at the thought of what his superiors would have to say. Ah, well. Two would have to do. And he could always include this beautiful runner, although he would prefer to keep her for himself. What a challenge it would be to tame her! Strange, he thought, that only a week ago she had found him and his men rather than the other way round. Strange, also, that she should have offered her services as a scout and had led them on a direct route to this place. She's trying to hide it, but she seems very anxious that we should go after these two in particular. The woman was getting impatient and got to her feet, coming close but not quite touching. "Come! Two! You take! Come, now!" "Yes, yes. All right. Lead on". He brought the column to their feet and heeled his horse forward to follow the already moving figure of the woman. Another strange thing, he thought, was the way she always kept her right hand encased in that cloth wrapping. Almost as if she was afraid, or embarrassed, to let it be seen. * Leanore and Tanley had made love. Again. Now they lay naked in the grass close to a stand of acacia trees, comfortably close, relaxing in the warm afterglow and picking at the basket of fruit they had brought with them. It had taken nearly all day to reach this favourite place, dozens of miles from home, a place they had travelled to on a number of occasions because of its peaceful stillness and seclusion. This was 'their' place and, as far as they knew, nobody else ever came there. It was a perfect setting for a young couple to enjoy each other, to spend time together without fear of interruption, out in the wild among the animals. They had to remain alert in case of lions, rhino, elephant, and any one of a hundred different creatures that could endanger them, but that kind of caution was etched deeply within them, almost from birth, and they felt safe relying on their senses to warn them of the approach of danger from the animal world. Out here, what other dangers could there be? Leanore was comfortable with their open, casual relationship. Tanley was less so. He had always wanted to take Leanore as his mate, and hoped that it would come to pass over time. It had been months since Leanore had fought for, and won, the right to pair with him, yet she had made no move to formalise their relationship. He was frustrated by this, because he had harboured the thought that, having met and overcome a challenge for that right, she would be more amenable to his advances. He had broached the subject for discussion on a number of occasions, but each time Leanore had, somehow, managed to steer the conversation around to other things, They lay on their backs, nude in the closely grazed grass, eyes closed but other senses alert for the sounds and smells of wildlife. They would not be taken by surprise by any threat the natural world had to offer. So the first they knew of danger from another source was the points of javelins pressed against their exposed throats, and a sharp voice saying something in a strange language. Leanore had the presence of mind to remain motionless. Tanley, however, instinctively jerked when he felt the cold metal against his flesh. The point pierced his skin with a sting like an angry wasp, releasing a trickle of blood into the hollow of his throat, and he froze. Leanore's eyes tracked up the length of the javelin. Looking down on her, she saw a naked man holding the shaft. His appearance was unfamiliar to her. Stocky and olive skinned, his body was patchily covered with coarse black hair, in contrast to the smooth black skin she was used to. His swarthy features seemed sharp and predatory to her, a smug smile on his cruel, thin lips telling her that he would not hesitate to kill her. With an effort of will, Leanore clamped down on the rising panic within. She needed a clear head if she was to survive this. The men had stripped naked to avoid the noise their armour would have made - the creak of leather, the rattle of metal fasteners. This had allowed them to stalk their quarry in silence, and the senses of the man and woman, attuned to the sounds of nature, had completely missed their approach. They had been taken by surprise, if not shock. Now the sounds of people, marching in step, became clear. A forest of leather thonged legs appeared around the two, and a number of strange faces peered down at them. Leanore detected the sound of another approaching, intermingled with the jangle of chains. The surrounding faces parted, and a heavy-set man in similar, but more ornate, armour pushed through. He said something in the same, strange language, and disappeared. Rough hands seized them, and they were hauled to their feet. Iron shackles clamped around their wrists and ankles bound the two together, and they were dragged forward to stand in front of the heavy man. He was not tall. The top of his head barely reached Leanore's eyeline. He looked a little flabby and unfit. But there was an air of authority about him, and the hint of cruelty, that could not be denied. Leanore watched him carefully as he spoke unintelligibly, recognising him as the major threat. Watched him until another figure came to stand at his side. Lexis! Leanore's eyes narrowed as she recognised the arrogant face of her rival, meeting the prideful gaze as coolly as she could. Lexis smiled the smile of a leopardess as she listened to the man. "He says", she interpreted, speaking directly to Leanore and totally ignoring the shaken Tanley, "he is Fallus Maximus, Commander of the Twenty-third Phalanx of the Fourth Legion of the Imperial Army. He says you are two fine specimens. You in particular, although I can't think why. He says you will do well in the arena". Some of the words were meaningless to Leanore. "What's an arena?" "Search me", Lexis admitted with a sneer. "But I do hope it's something painful and, preferably, fatal". The Commander spoke again. "He says you are not to be afraid. If you co-operate, you will not be harmed". "What did you say his name was?" Tanley wanted to know. "Fallus Maximus". "Looks like a big prick, to me. What do they want from us?" There was insolence in his voice now. "Tanley!" Leanore cautioned. "Don't antagonise him". "They don't want anything from you. They just want you". "Ask him". Leanore stared straight into Lexis eyes with a gaze so intense that the woman had to look away. She spoke to the Commander. "He says you are captives of the Empire. You will be taken into the custody of the state, and put to the service of the Emperor". "Slaves, you mean", Tanley spat. Lexis spoke to Fallus Maximus, waiting in mock respect for his reply. "He says not. You will be treated well, if you behave yourselves. He wants to know where your village is. I could tell him, but I won't. These empire types are big on pomp and bluster but, from what I've seen, they're not too bright. He hasn't twigged that I used to be one of you, and I'd rather keep it that way". Her voice took on a syrupy, persuasive tone as she spoke to Tanley for the first time. "But if you were to tell him ." "Don't tell him" Leanore instructed. "Wasn't going to". Tanley was disgusted at the very idea. "Tell him to go fuck himself". "No!" Leanore over-rode him. "Let's not make things worse. Lexis, just tell him no". Lexis relayed their response. Fallus Maximus turned up a corner of his mouth, looking at the captives with something close to grudging respect as he replied. "The Commander says he will kill you if you refuse. I know he means what he says. I don't care if he kills you or not, although I admit I was hoping it would be slow. Tell him, or you will die". "Betray our families?" Leanore snarled. "You know better than that. Never!" "We would rather die", Tanley added. Lexis's mouth curved in a cat-like grin as she translated to the Commander. He nodded his head as he listened carefully. A frown creased his forehead, and he summoned and spoke to one of his men. The soldier listened to his orders before taking a step backward, saluting by thumping his fist against his breastplate. He turned away from the officer and, in a single move, drew his short sword and swung it, neatly decapitating Tanley. Twin columns of bright red hosed from the stump of Tanley's neck as his head thumped on the ground and rolled away like an empty gourd. Leanore screamed in horror as his body slowly toppled over, dragging the stricken Leanore down with it. She fell sobbing on top of it, crying in fear and grief as the body exsanguinated, blood spraying across her face and chest. The suddenness of it, the casual violence with which the soldier had unhesitatingly carried out his orders, shocked and horrified Leanore to the very core of her being, and she felt a cold, numbing anger spreading through her even as she wept. After a few minutes, she became aware of Lexis crouching at her side. "See?" the woman said with a self-satisfied smile. "I told you. He meant it. For your own sake, tell him, or you will end the same way". The anger pumped adrenalin into Leanore's muscles. Like a striking snake, her fist lashed out and smashed into Lexis's face. The blow was hampered by the dead weight of poor Tanley's arm still shackled to her wrist, but nonetheless had sufficient power to knock the woman sprawling on her backside, her nose spurting a gout of blood. Lexis lay groaning, clutching her good hand to her pulped nose. Several men moved as if to restrain her, but Leanore did not follow through. "Tell him", she said to the moaning Lexis. "Tell him, get on with it and kill me". She knelt up, chest thrust out proudly and vulnerable neck exposed. "Tell him to do it now or, by gods, one day I will kill him". "Gladly", Lexis chuckled, the sound muffled by her hand. She climbed to her feet, and went to Fallus Maximus, who was smiling quietly to himself. There was a brief conversation, and the officer called certain of his men to join him. Leanore watched as they held a discussion, deducing from their gestures and eyes that the conference was to decide her fate. "What're they saying?" she demanded of Lexis, who stood on the periphery of the knot of men. The treacherous woman turned to her. "They're talking about you. They agree you have spirit. Some say you should be killed here and now. Some are saying you have a lot of spirit and should go to the arena. Fallus Maximus has the last word, of course, and he says you will be a big attraction, and could be worth a lot of 'money'. I don't know that word". She turned away at the Commander's summons. When she turned back, she wore a big grin. "It's the arena for you. The Commander says you will wish for three things. You'll wish you had told him where the village is. You'll wish he had killed you. And you'll wish you'd never been born. "Oh, I hope the arena turns out to be an instrument of torture". Lexis grinned like a daemon a she savoured Leanore's fate. She flinched as a gob of spittle landed on her cheek. "And spitting at me will make nothing better". She turned her back on the captive. Callused hands grabbed Leanore and hauled her to her feet. Hands pinioned her arms while a soldier unshackled her from Tanley and went to shackle her wrists together. In desperation, Leanore smashed the back of her hand into the man's face, knocking him out of the way. She shrugged out of the grasp of those holding her arms and bent forward to grasp the chain between her ankles. Power exploded through her muscles, and with a terrific wrench she snapped the tough links. All fear and horror had been leached from her by the cold fury that now filled her. She launched herself forward, skittling the soldiers out of her way as she bore down on Fallus Maximus with murderous intent. Her fingers were inches from his fleshy throat. A brilliant light flared inside her skull as a vicious blow struck the back of her head. Leanore tumbled to the ground and lay still as darkness took her. Above her prone body, Lexis laughed as she tossed aside the heavy branch. * Nausea. Violent, banging headache and gut-wrenching nausea. These were the first sensations of which Leanore was aware as she came to. She was lying on her back on a coarse blanket. She risked opening an eye, and discovered it was night. Close by, the men were sitting around a campfire, silhouetted against its glow, and closer still, an armed guard kept watch over her. She groaned, as much to let the guard know she was awake as anything else, and slowly sat up. She grimaced at the sight of her own breasts and belly, caked with poor dead Tanley's congealed blood. Her wrists and ankles, she noticed, were now double-shackled. They were obviously taking no more chances. Not far away, the distinctive, nightmarish sounds of hyenas squabbling over some piece of carrion came clearly to her ears. With sudden shock, she realised that the carrion would most probably be Tanley. This was more that her tortured system could take. With a convulsive heave, Leanore rolled over and vomited profusely, throwing up the contents of her belly and continuing to retch long after her stomach was empty. At last, the spasms subsided, and she sat on the blanket in abject misery, weeping as though heartbroken. Lexis was coming, holding a bowl, and through her tears Leanore watched her approach with undisguised hatred. "The Commander says you must be fed. Waste of good provisions, if you ask me, but he says you are to be kept healthy". Leanore was surprised to find that she actually felt hungry. She turned a tear and blood stained face to glower at Lexis defiantly. "I'll eat". Her voice was quiet and very cold as she snatched the bowl. "I will eat and stay healthy, keep my strength up. Because one day, I'm going to kill him. And you, too, you filthy, unspeakable turd". Lexis laughed, but behind her eyes Leanore could see a veil of real fear. "You're in no position to issue threats", she said cockily. She went to the fireside, and Leanore could see her speaking to Fallus Maximus. The man roared his laughter and hauled himself to his feet. He walked over to Leanore and stood over her, smiling wickedly down on her. She glared back with utter contempt. Now he was openly leering and licking his lips. For a moment, Leanore thought he was about to attempt a rape, but he seemed to reach a decision. His booted foot lashed out and took Leanore full in the belly. Normally, the superb muscles of her belly would have been able to absorb the blow. But hers was a belly that was sore from having so recently heaved and retched, and still felt nauseous. Leanore doubled up and rolled over onto her side, wrapping her arms around her abdomen in her misery.