Chapter 5

Although the nearest village was only a twenty minute walk away, it took Mike most of the afternoon to locate the cave where the Damsel was being held. The entrance to the cave was little more than a shadow tucked away in little cut into the mountain. He would have missed it if he hadn’t come across the tracks of men on one of the animal trails that cut through the area.

Cat had told him to wait until after the men holding the Damsel had left for the night before attempting to free her. Following her instructions, Mike looked around for a good place to wait and watch. He found a nice spot fifty yards from the animal trail to watch for the men. He was seated on a broad tree limb about twenty feet off the ground. It gave him a commanding view of the area while hiding him from sight.

It was hard to sit there and wait knowing that there was a woman within three minutes of his position who was being mistreated. He heard two men moving down the trail. It was hard to miss them considering how much noise they made. When they came into view, he examined them carefully.

One of the men looked like a giant. He had to be nearly six and a half feet tall with arms the size of Mike’s legs. He shuffled along reminding Mike of a grizzly bear. The giant said, “I wish she wasn’t a burner. I hate using a sheath.”

“Yeah, but she’s real pretty,” the other man said. He was six inches shorter than the giant and looked like he could take care of himself in a fight. In fact, he was the more dangerous of the two men. He had the look of a man who engaged in physical labor on a daily basis. He moved comfortable in his body.

“All the pretty ones are burners,” the giant said shaking his head. It wasn’t that he had much experience with burners; that was common wisdom among the men of Chaos.

Frowning at the giant, the shorter man said, “If you don’t want to use the sheath, there’s always the four town whores.”

“I hate those women. They’re old,” the giant said shaking his head. He grumbled for a moment about the unfairness of it all. The young women in the village were all sturdy women that weren’t all that attractive. They also fought like wildcats to keep their virtue.

The whores had been the wives of slave owners and they were all old. He said, “It is too bad she’s a burner.”

“I know,” the smaller man said. He looked over at the giant and asked, “Have you got a sheath?”

“No. Do you?”

“No,” the smaller man said with a sad shake of his head. He frowned and said, “I won’t have one until after I butcher a sheep.”

“Same here,” the giant said.

“She’ll just have to suck us off until then,” the smaller man said.

Not quite sure that they had chosen the right woman to be their slave, the giant replied,

“She vomits after sucking one of us off. I hate it when that happens.”

“All burners do that. It is her problem, not yours,” the smaller man said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Mike glared at the two men as they moved to the front of the cave. If it wasn’t for his promise to Cat, he’d have charged in there to take care of both of them. That would probably get him killed. Based on what he’d seen, he’d have problems dealing with either one in a straight out fight. The two men together would probably fillet him without a second thought. He took a deep breath to calm down. He knew better than to lose his cool like this.

It was less than thirty minutes before sunset when the two men finally left the cave. That would give them enough time to return to their homes without having to wander around in the dark. Mike listened to the men complain. The smaller man said, “You shouldn’t have hit her.”

Angry, the giant said, “She threw up on me.”

“I told you to step back as soon as you came,” the smaller man said glaring at the much bigger man.

“I was still coming when she started throwing up,” the giant said.

“Well, I think you broke her jaw. She’s not going to be of much use to us now,” the smaller man said.

“I didn’t break it,” the giant said. He shuffled down the path for a few steps and then added, “I guess I did loosen a few teeth.”

“At least she’s still alive. If we get some sheaths, we can still fuck her,” the smaller man said in disgust.

The giant said, “Maybe we can sell her.”

“King Sid defeated the slavers. There is no one around who will buy a slave,” the smaller guy said.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot,” the giant said.

Mike watched them disappear down the trail before climbing out of the tree. He worked his way over to the cave and entered. There was just enough light to make out the Damsel. He said, “Hello, Erica Mayor. I’m Mike Radford from Earth.”

The Damsel looked up at Mike with tears in her eyes. Barely able to move her jaw, she said, “Get me home.”

“I will, Erica,” Mike said making his way over to her. There was a collar around her neck and a copper chain that was attached to a spike that had been hammered into the rock. He checked it and had no idea how to get her free.

“Please, get me out of here,” she begged. Her jaw was throbbing in pain.

“How’s your jaw?” Mike asked checking her over. The entire left side of her face was horribly swollen.

“It hurts, but I don’t think it is broken. I can still move it a little,” Erica answered.

Mike pulled out a knife and set it against one of the links of the copper chain. Taking a rock, he smashed it across the back of the knife. The knife broke, but there was a cut that went nearly through the chain. He put the remains of the knife in the cut and hit it a second time with the rock. The knife cleaved through the copper.

He used the knife to pry the link open. The knife slipped and he nicked his finger, but he managed to get the link spread enough to slip the link out of the chain. Looking over at her, he said, “You’re free.”

Feeling the collar around her neck, she said, “I’ve still got the collar on.”

“I know,” Mike replied. He didn’t have the tools to remove the collar. A very nasty idea came to him. Smiling, he said, “We’re going to leave it on for a bit.”

“What are you saying?” Erica asked.

Mike asked, “I want to hurt the three guys who did this to you.”

“I want you to kill them,” Erica said.

“I’ve got something a whole lot better in mind,” Mike said thinking that this wasn’t Earth and the laws from there didn’t apply.

“What?” Erica asked.

“Come with me,” Mike said holding out a hand for her to take.

Donaldson stepped out of his house and looked around. He made his way down the steps without noticing that his wooden leg made a small click on the steps. He might not notice the sounds that his leg made, but he felt every step he took. He looked over at the stranger sitting on the stump he used for splitting logs. Checking his sword, he asked,

“What do you want?”

“Are you Donaldson, the King’s Representative?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I’m Mike Radford. I have a problem, and I think you can help me,” Mike said smiling over at the man.

“What kind of problem?” Donaldson asked narrowing his eyes. He didn’t trust a stranger who showed up and tried to create problems for him.

In a very nonchalant voice, Mike answered, “I just rescued a slave.”

“What?”

“I rescued a slave last night. She was being held less than twenty minutes from here by three men who live in this village,” Mike answered slowly rising from the stump. He turned to head down the path to the road.

“Where are you going?” Donaldson asked. He was still trying to get his mind around the idea that there were still slaves in the area.

“I’m taking you to her so that you can get the story directly from her,” Mike answered looking over his shoulder at the one legged man.

“Is she far from here?” Donaldson asked.

“About a mile outside of town,” Mike answered.

“Let me get my crutch. I can’t walk that far with this damned leg,” Donaldson said turning to go into his house.

Erica sat in the inn sipping some watered wine out of a pewter mug. It tasted like heaven after drinking tepid water during the weeks she had been held in the cave. She sighed as she put the mug down on the table.

One of the women handed her a bowl of soup broth and said, “Here. Have some of this.

It’ll make you feel better.”

Still barely able to move her jaw, Erica answered, “Thank you.”

Another of the women said, “My Henry will get that awful collar off of you in just a little while.”

“Thank you,” Erica said amazed at the fuss that was being made over her. The inn was completely packed with people. There were so many people that she couldn’t even see the door from where she was seated.

The giant entered the inn and looked around. Grinning, he said, “Did someone say that we were having a town meeting?”

The smile disappeared off his face when he noticed that there were a dozen knives pressed against his body. Donaldson said, “Kurt, don’t make a move or I will cut you down like a dog.”

“What’s going on?” Kurt asked looking around in confusion.

Donaldson said, “Someone has accused you of slavery.”

“What?” Kurt asked wondering how anyone found out about the burner they were holding in the cave.

“Your friends Kevin and Elroy told me that they suspected that you had a slave. They even told us where to look. Do you know what we found?” Donaldson asked.

“What?” Kurt asked looking around defiantly.

“We went to the cave they described and found a woman there with a collar around her neck,” Donaldson answered. Giving Kurt a nasty smile, he said, “Kevin and Elroy are going to be heroes for turning you in.”

Knowing that he was caught and that escape was virtually impossible, Kurt seemed to shrink about a foot in height. Shaking his head, he said, “They were in on it, too. All three of us were sharing her as a slave. I’m not taking all of the blame.”

Donaldson acted surprised and asked, “You aren’t just saying that to get revenge?”

“No. It was Kevin’s idea to grab her. Elroy knew about the cave. Kevin and Elroy put the collar on her. I just grabbed her and carried her there. All three of us have been using her,” Kurt answered.

Kurt was condemned by the words coming out of his own mouth. Donaldson said,

“You’ve got two choices. You can serve a thirty-five year indenture or you can hang.

Which will it be?”

“Thirty-five year indenture,” Kurt said. He was a big guy and it would be hard for them to give him work that he couldn’t do with ease. As far as he was concerned, it wouldn’t be much different from life as a freeman.

Donaldson turned to one of the men there and said, “Have him sign the papers and then tattoo him.”

There was no punishment worse that getting tattooed as a convicted slave owner. They would write a large S on his forehead and the number of years after the end of the slave war to denote the end of his indenture. Anyone who found him more than a mile from town would have the right to kill him on sight. Stunned, Kurt said, “Not the tattoo.”

“You’re a slaver and you get the mark of a slaver,” Donaldson said in a cold voice.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Kurt said as the full reality of the situation sank in on him.