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Two
Heavy wooden doors swung wide. Captain Arkan strode in, helmet under his arm, his blue cape thrown back over his shoulder. He saluted smartly.
"Your Majesty, I present the captive."
Under the escort of four guards, the bound Amazon walked, with dignity, into the chamber. Her presence awed all those gathered, the courtesans falling silent, the King shifting slightly upon the soft cushions of his throne. They stopped, twenty feet from the dais upon which the throne was mounted.
The King whispered to his advisor, a stern man by the name of Roth, who, in turn, indicated the warrior. "She must kneel." The Amazon turned her head to stare at Roth, defiance upon her beautiful face. "Make her kneel!" Roth shouted.
The four guards grasped her muscular arms, tried to wrench her to the floor, kicking at her legs. Strong, she remained standing, taking their blows, her eyes still upon Roth. Agitation rippled through the courtesans, the King gnawed a knuckle.
"Must I do everything myself?" Grasping his stout wooden staff, Roth stepped down from the dais, strode to the Amazon. "Kneel!" The guards jumped out of the way as Roth swung the staff into the backs of the Amazon’s knees. It impacted hard, once, twice, and she stumbled. A third blow, and she lost her balance, slamming to her knees.
There was silence. The Amazon kept her gaze to the floor.
Captain Arkan cleared his throat. "Er ... Majesty, before you is evidence that the Amazons do bleed, that they are mortal, that they can be defeated, and even captured. I say that we offer the safe return of this Amazon as an exchange for peace between our people."
The King nodded slowly. "I see."
"Although we must keep her restrained at all times, I believe -"
"Surely she is more help to us than that?" the King suddenly asked.
"Majesty?" Arkan did not understand.
The King frowned. "She must ... she must know things?"
Roth was quick to grasp the King’s meaning. "You are most wise, Majesty! If the Amazons mean to attack us again, and well they might, it is reasonable to assume that this one knows of her sisters’ plans."
"Exactly." The King glared down at the kneeling prisoner. "Question her!"
Arkan began, "Majesty, I strongly suggest -"
"Arkan." Roth silenced the Captain with a gesture. "What His Majesty means is that we do not bargain with savages."
The King looked pleased. "Indeed, you are right, Roth. I want the Amazon questioned, and she must hold nothing from us!"
"Aye, Majesty," Roth said, with a gracious bow. To Captain Arkan: "Take her to the dungeon, and prepare her."
Deep beneath the palace, the dungeon was a dark hybrid of natural caves and man-made chambers. Water dripped from the ceiling or made slimy trails on the walls. Chains hung from shadowed rings above. Instruments of horror lay in the dimness. In to this cold, hideous place, they took the bound Amazon, to a chamber in the dungeon beneath a twenty-foot ceiling. On the end of a long chain that dangled from the blackness above, two sturdy manacles awaited a prisoner.
They made the Amazon stand before the manacles, and Arkan drew his sword, touching its tip to her brown throat. "Please, do not make me use this." The Amazon stood calmly, as, with a guard holding each arm, another loosened the ropes about her wrists. They were deeply grooved from the tight bonds, but she was given no chance to restore the circulation, her wrists instead placed inside the heavy shackles, which were closed and locked snugly. Arkan stepped back as two of his men crossed to a heavy winch, and began to crank it. The chain linking the Amazon’s manacles was drawn in, and her muscled arms were slowly drawn above her head, until she stood, her beautiful face framed by her upstretched arms.
For the best part of an hour, she remained standing like that, the four guards on point, Captain Arkan awaiting the arrival of Roth. He noticed the Amazon beginning to shiver where she stood: coming from the much warmer south, she was new to the chill of this dungeon.
Roth finally came, a Medic and a Scribe trailing him, and he nodded with cool civility to Captain Arkan. "Good work, Captain."
"I must protest about this," Arkan said. "This treatment is unjustified! We are not savages, nor is the Amazon! She is a prisoner of war, and must be treated with -"
"She will be treated as the King sees fit," Roth returned impatiently. "Say no more, but remove her gag so I may speak with her."
Arkan obeyed, stepping behind the restrained Amazon, releasing the buckle of her gag. The ball was extracted from the Amazon’s mouth. Relieved of the strain, she worked her jaw, flexed her dry lips.
"What is your name, woman?" Roth demanded.
The Amazon’s dark eyes fixed calmly upon him. "Lena." Her voice was deep, as rich and smooth as her gleaming skin. She went on: "Let me go, and I shall let you all live."
Roth stared at her. "I beg your pardon? You, dare to threaten me? You stupid, insolent wench!" He ordered two of the guards, "strip her!"
Reluctantly, they ventured to Lena, and began plucking at the leather strips tied about her arms and legs. When these were removed, they unfastened her bone chest-plate, lifting it from her torso. All eyes were at once upon her breasts: round, proud, high, topped by dark-chocolate nipples. She was a woman who evoked both urgent desire, and fear. Her hands closed around the chains that held her arms aloft, her eyes down, braving the stares of all.
"And the rest," Roth said.
At once, Lena’s eyes blazed, fixing on Roth in rage. But she stood, not moving, as the leather of herloincloth was untied, the scant garment taken away, baring the dark oval of hair in her loins. Roth was triumphant. "Where is your pride now, Lena?"
No reply, but her eyes remained defiant. She knew that, even naked and in chains as she was now, she retained every ounce of her dignity. Recognising this, Roth turned to Captain Arkan. "Strike her!"
Arkan looked shocked. "What?"
"Hit her! Hit the woman!"
"No!" Arkan’s refusal was resolute. "No, I am not such a man!"
"You disobey my order?" Roth fumed.
"If an order is so clearly wrong, yes."
For a moment, Roth was speechless. Then, he pointed at one of the guards. "You, man! Strike her, and make it count, or I will have you flogged!"
The guard, reluctantly, moved to stand before the chained Amazon. He drew back, and punched her hard in the belly. The sound was like hitting beef, and she barely jolted. "Curse! She’s like a tree-trunk!"
"You fool! Use this!" Roth tossed the guard his sturdy staff.
"Feel this, whore!" The guard swung the club, hard, into Lena’s unprotected belly. It bounced off a wall of muscle, with no sign that it had hurt in the slightest. A second blow, and a third, the guard swinging the weapon with all of his strength into her belly. Finally, with a crack! the staff broke into two, and the guard stood, breathing hard, in disbelief.
In sudden motion, Lena grasped her chains, and swung her legs off the floor, capturing the guard’s torso with her heels, drawing him in. He gave a yelp, and, before anybody could stop her, the Amazon began to squeeze with her powerful thighs. The guard let out a cry of pain, and the dull crunching sound of his ribs cracking echoed in the dungeon.
Lena’s eyes fixed on Roth. "Release me, or I’ll kill him."
Roth blinked slowly.
"Release her!" Captain Arkan cried.
"I don’t think you’ll do it," Roth said.
The Amazon bared her white teeth, and drew her legs in. The guard’s cries became a rattle of agony as, with an awful sound, his ribcage was crushed, his organs mashed. He clawed helplessly at the Amazon’s smooth thighs, blood appearing at his mouth, his eyes bulging, his voice trailing off into a breathless sigh. Finally, Lena released him, and his limp and dying body flopped to the ground.
The Amazon’s feet found the floor, her face turning slowly to Roth, who coughed.
"Well. Er ..." He beckoned two more of the guards. "You two. Hoist her higher. We shall see how well she sleeps tonight!"
The guards cranked the winch, the chain was drawn in. Lena’s arms were stretched tauter over her head, until the manacles were hauling hard upon her fisted hands. Her heels rose off the floor. Still the winch turned, and Lena’s toes crept off the flagstones, her magnificent body drawn and tense, hanging by the wrists from the manacles. They cranked her higher, until her feet were fourteen inches above the floor, and locked the winch.
"We shall return. Be ready," Roth cautioned.
When her captors had gone, Lena felt herself hang, hearing the creak of the chains. Tipping her head back and looking up the landscape of her upstretched arms, she regarded her restraint. True, she could easily haul herself up - she could probably climb the chain all the way to the top - but once there, there was no way she could undo her key-locked fetters, nor detach the chain. She was helpless.
There was nothing else to do. She let her head hang forward, dangling off the floor. She was surprised by the weight of her own body, the pain in her manacled wrists, the tension in her arms. For mere men, her captors were surprisingly cunning.
It was cold, and she began to shiver, hanging naked in the dungeon.
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