Abducted

Chapter 9 – The Inquest

On the way to the Inquest Chamber, Emma adjusted her step to accommodate the chain connecting her ankles. The chain tinkled musically on the floor as she walked. Hans held the handle to her leash loosely in his left hand, and she walked closely behind him, like a dog walking to heel.

They left the building through a pair of swing doors and walked into the late afternoon heat. Immediately, Emma felt beads of perspiration on her body.

"I know it's still unbearably hot out here," exclaimed Hans, "But the Inquest Chamber is only five minutes away."

As they hurried along, Emma took in the strange sights and the exotic perfume of unusual spices which permeated the air. She noticed three other women, encased like herself in shapeless robes, attached to men by metal leashes. None of the other leashes was gold, she noticed, and felt an unaccountable surge of pride. They too tinkled as they walked, obviously from chains attached to their ankles. Other women walked in pairs, or with men, but without leashes or chains, but they too were encased from head to toe in traditional black garb.

Finally, they reached the Inquest Chamber and were ushered towards the front, to a line of seats immediately in front of the raised dais, in the centre of which were three ornate armchairs – thrones, perhaps. Hans sat, and Emma made to sit next to him. "No!" he commanded. "You are a slave. You kneel at my feet!"

Emma complied. "Position One!" he hissed. "Look proud! And you can remove your niqab now!"

Emma untied her veil, folded it neatly and placed it in her handbag. Hans undid her leash, but the gold chain remained attached to her ankles. Emma remained on her knees, her eyes lowered, but surreptitiously glanced around the room. It was a large hall, with seating, she estimated, for about two hundred. The seats were filling rapidly. She noticed Boris and Clyde, in full dress uniform, sitting a few metres away. Further along were another eleven soldiers. 'Mmm,' she thought, 'they must be the men that Boris and Clyde sold me to!'

There was a sudden buzz in the gathering crowd. A lone woman, wearing the usual black costume, was ushered to a seat at the front of the hall. She removed her niqab, and Emma recognised Yasmin. She sat, bolt upright, shuffling some papers in her hands. As the clock on the wall moved towards six o'clock, a large man, with a full black beard, wearing full-length white robes and a white headdress entered from the back of the dais and sat at a small table off to the left side. He was accompanied by a tall woman in black abaya and khimar, whom Emma recognised as Amira. She sat next to the man and moved a few files around.

"That's the Clerk of the Chamber," whispered Hans, "with his assistant, whom I think you have met. He's wearing traditional robes; the body garment is called a jalabiyyah, and the head-dress is an aghal."

"I like the black cord which keeps it in place," said Emma. "It has great tassels."

"You'll see even better ones soon," smiled Hans.

Almost immediately, two other men appeared, dressed similarly to the Clerk. One sat on the extreme right of the dais, and the other just to the left side of the three thrones. "We must be about to start," Hans remarked. "Those are the translators."

"Translators, Master?" queried Emma.

"Yes. I forgot to say, but although everything in the Inquest is said in English, it all has to be translated into the Old Language. It's silly, really, as so few people now understand it, but it's traditional, and it's very hard to change tradition here. That's why the process takes so long. One of the translators – the one in the centre – speaks for the Inquisitors, and the other for the rest of us."

Suddenly, a trumpet sounded. The Clerk leapt to his feet, banged a hammer on his table, and shouted, "All stand!"

The trumpet sounded again, and three men appeared from the back of the chamber. All wore pure white jalabiyyahs, and bright scarlet aghals on their heads, but the most striking thing was that all three had a large mailed glove on their right arm, on which sat a hawk. The three men walked sedately to the centre of the dais, and stood still. One seemed to Emma to be well over seventy, and the others were certainly in their sixties. In spite of their advanced years, they stood straight and proud, haughty even, thought Emma.

"The one in the centre is the Grand Inquisitor," whispered Hans. "He's carrying a Gyr Falcon. The other two have Peregrine Falcons, which are smaller. It's all very symbolic – something about falcons representing justice, and going straight at their goal, without swerving, without favour."

A soldier, carrying a large perch, approached the three Inquisitors. He took each falcon in turn, and transferred it to the perch, which he then sat at the back of the dais, as if to oversee the Inquest. The Inquisitors turned, and walked towards the thrones. Emma then noticed that the tassels on the ends of their headdresses were woven from solid gold. The Inquisitors turned, to face the chamber, and sat on their thrones. The Grand Inquisitor raised his right hand and announced in a stentorian tone, "Let the Inquest commence!"

Immediately, the translator to his right repeated his words, in a tongue which Emma found quite indecipherable. The assembled company sat back on their seats; Emma resumed her place on her knees, next to Hans.

"We have received written statements from all parties," started the Grand Inquisitor. At once, the translator repeated his words.

"All that remains is to ask a few questions. Let me remind all that to lie to this Inquest is perjury, and the penalty is severe." Again, the translator spoke.

For over two hours, the Inquisitors interrogated Yasmin, Boris and Clyde, about what had happened, and their motives. Every question, and every reply, was translated into the Old Language.

"It's going well," whispered Hans. "They are asking all the right questions."

Finally, the Grand Inquisitor turned and looked towards Emma.

"You are the slave Leila?"

"Yes, Excellency," started Emma, but was drowned by the translator.

"Stand up, Girl!" hissed Hans, quietly, "and wait for the translator to finish before you speak!"

Emma rose to her feet. "Yes, Excellency," she repeated. "I am Leila."

Her words were repeated by the translator at the side of the dais.

"What were your feelings towards your captors, the Guards Boris and Clyde?"

Emma was grateful that the translator gave her time to think. Finally, she spoke. "I think they were confused, Excellency," she finally said.

Her translator spoke, and then the Grand Inquisitor replied. "Confused, Slave? How so?"

Emma now decided that she liked the translation pause. Again, she had time to think! She began to regain the self-assurance for which she had been well-known in her job in Edinburgh. "Yes, Excellency. They were like two children with a new toy. At first, they were excited, but soon became bored."

Emma paused dramatically, and waited for the translator to finish. She watched the slightly puzzled expression on the faces of the Inquisitors. The translator finished. Emma's confidence increased. Her attendances at her student drama classes began to seem important. Pauses were so vital! She could use the translators to her advantage!

"Oh yes, Excellencies," she continued, and then stopped, peering in the direction of the translator, obviously waiting for him to speak. He spoke, briefly, and Emma continued. "It was as if they had lost the instructions."

Once again, she paused, waiting for the translation. The translator was non-plussed. Normally, witnesses spoke for longer, which gave him time to formulate his words. Translating small phrases was difficult! Finally, he spoke, and Emma went on. "I don't think they really knew what was expected of them, or what to do with me."

The Second Inquisitor spoke. "So you think you were tortured and raped out of boredom and confusion?"

"Yes, Excellency. I don't think they are evil men; they were carrying out what they thought was their duty."

"Very interesting," interjected the Grand Inquisitor. "I understand you derived some pleasure from your experience. Is this true?"

Emma blushed. "Yes, Excellency." She paused, waiting for the translator, and then continued. "I had several orgasms – some very intense." A buzz of amazement went around the Chamber. One or two men chuckled.

"Silence!" called the Grand Inquisitor. "I will have no laughter at my Inquest."

He studied his notes. "I have written here, 'The most intense ever'. Is this true?"

"Yes, Excellency," she nodded, "the most intense I ever had."

"You may stand down now, for the moment."

Emma resumed her position, kneeling at Hans' feet. The three Inquisitors whispered amongst themselves for a few minutes. Emma strained to hear what they were saying, but could hear only a few words – 'photos' – 'level three' – 'three days'. Finally, the Grand Inquisitor spoke again. "Slave!"

Emma rose to her feet. "Yes, Excellency?"

"We have seen photos of your injuries, taken within a few hours of the event, but we need to establish that the marks are still in evidence, and that the punishment you received was definitely in excess of Level 3. Take off your costume!"

Horrified, Emma whispered to Hans, as the translator repeated the Grand Inquisitor's words. "Must I, Master? In front of all these people?"

"Yes, you must!" he hissed. "And stand as I taught you – Position Three. Be proud of your body! Make me proud of you."

"Quickly!" interjected the Grand Inquisitor. "I am not used to being kept waiting!"

Emma hurriedly complied, first removing her khimar, and then the long abaya, which she dropped at her feet. A low gasp of approval was heard from the Chamber as her petite frame was revealed. She clasped her hands behind her back, thrusting her breasts out, and stood with her feet apart and her head held high. She heard a whispered, "Good Girl!" from her master.

"Come closer!"

Emma obeyed, and walked a few steps towards the Inquisitors. Her gold chain rustled on the floor as she moved. When she was about three metres from the seated Inquisitors, one raised his hand, signalling her to stop. She stood in front of them, her legs parted, careful not to look into their eyes, but holding her head high.

The three men studied her. Finally, the Grand Inquisitor rose and walked towards her. His colleagues followed. "See," he began, "there are still pronounced marks on her breasts and stomach."

"And here on her back," announced another.

"Master Hans," said the Grand Inquisitor, "have you had occasion to punish this slave since she arrived with you?"

"Not physically, Excellency. I have been careful not to harm her before the Inquest."

"Good." His hand moved between her parted thighs. "See, there are more marks here."

Emma watched his hand approach her soft thighs, and felt the first signs of arousal. As the Grand Inquisitor's wizened fingers traced the residual marks of her injuries, and moved closer to her pussy, she felt her juices begin to flow. One of the other Inquisitors ran his finger across the marks on her buttocks, and she smelt the unmistakeable odour of her excitement.

The Grand Inquisitor smelt it too. "Outrageous!" he bellowed. His finger felt her pussy, and insinuated itself in her moistening cunt. "Look," he shouted, withdrawing his finger and holding it up, "this bitch is in heat! Do you think my Inquest is a proper place to have an orgasm, Slave? How dare you!"

"I… I… I'm s… s… sorry, Excellency. I c… c… couldn't help it," stammered Emma.

"Master Hans, you will have to punish this slave severely, and teach her proper manners and decorum!"

"Yes, Excellency!" replied Hans, "but please remember, Excellency, that she is very new. I have only had a few hours with her. She has much to learn."

"Well, she must learn quickly how to behave in public. Get dressed now, Slave, and try to contain your sexual urges."

"Yes, Excellency," whispered Emma, her face flushed with embarrassment, gratefully retrieving her abaya and pulling it over her head. She knelt by Hans and put on her khimar.

The three Inquisitors resumed their seats and again talked quietly amongst themselves. After a few minutes, the Grand Inquisitor announced, "The hour approaches nine. We will now retire to consider. The Inquest will resume at ten."

The translator repeated his words, and then the Clerk shouted, "All stand!"

The audience got to their feet, and a trumpet sounded. The Inquisitors stood and walked slowly towards the back of the dais, followed by a soldier carrying the three hawks.

"Put on your niqab," said Hans, reaching under Emma's khimar to re-attach her leash. "Let's go for a walk."

They stepped out of the Inquest Chamber into the dark night. The temperature had dropped considerably, to a much more pleasant 25°C. The streets were much busier than at any time during the day, and the volume of noise much higher, especially from an area off to the right where Emma saw what appeared to be a line of market stalls.

As they headed towards the stalls, Emma heard the mournful sound of a reed pipe, accompanied by some sort of stringed instrument. The music came to a halt, and the crowd burst into appreciative applause. After a few moments, a different tune started. The first stall groaned under the weight of a mass of fresh vegetables and fruit. The second was a butcher, and the third a fishmonger. The fourth displayed a stunning array of breads, cakes and sweetmeats, and the fifth a profusion of spices. Emma breathed in deeply, savouring the heady aroma. Hans explained that most trading took place after dark, when the temperature had cooled a little.

"Please, Master," began Emma, "may I ask a question?"

"Yes, Girl."

"In the Inquest, Master, there was much talk of 'Punishment Level'. I didn't understand. Can you please explain to me?"

"Well, all members of His Highness' court have a Punishment Level assigned to them. That represents the severity of the physical punishment that can be given them by those in authority over them. Your level is three, which I the normal, and that means that I, or anyone else in authority over you, can punish you to the extent that any marks disappear within three days. It is three days since Boris and Clyde punished you, and the marks are still visible; therefore, by definition, your punishment was excessive."

"I see, Master. Can the level be changed?"

"Oh, yes. For example, this Inquest has the authority to mete out punishment, and change punishment levels if the Inquisitors deem fit. The levels go from zero to twelve. Zero is usually for babies and very young children, and means no physical punishment at all. At level one, marks must vanish within two hours – the equivalent of a light smack. Level two means one day, and level three is three days, as I said. Level four means seven days, and level five is twenty-eight, but the skin must not be broken. Six is getting serious, and blood can be shed, by lashing for example, but no bones broken. Seven allows for broken bones, and by eight we are getting really serious, and into the realms of judicial amputation."

Emma shuddered, not sure if she wanted to hear more.

Hans continued. "Eight allows the amputation of a digit, finger or toe, or an ear. Nine allows for a hand, a foot, or a tongue, and ten for castration. Eleven allows for the severance of a limb, an arm or a leg, and twelve for the amputation of the head. Twelve is usually fatal," he added unnecessarily. "Judicial amputations are carried out in public, and without anaesthetic. We don't have them very often, but they are extremely popular."

Emma shuddered again. "It sounds a bit barbaric, Master."

"Yes," he replied, after a pause. "If you come from Western Europe at the end of the twentieth century, I suppose it does seem barbaric. But when you've been here as long as I, it seems quite normal."

"How long is that, Master?"

He thought for a few seconds. "Nearly thirty years. I joined the Army as a mercenary – I wasn't too popular at home in Austria. Perhaps I'll tell you about it some time – it would be good for your appreciation of history – but I think we'd better get back to the Chamber. Their Excellencies will not take it well if we are late."

On the way back, Hans pointed out the official palace buildings, the domestic quarters of His Highness. They also passed the pipeline, bringing water from the desalination plant some sixty kilometres away. As they entered the Chamber, the buzz of conversation suddenly diminished, as people turned to stare at Hans and his companion.

"I think you've made quite an impact," he said with a smile. "It's a long time since there's been a strip-tease at an official Inquest."

"It wasn't my idea, Master," replied Emma huffily. "I didn't exactly enjoy it!"

"No, but you carried it off very well. I was proud of you."

"Thank you, Master."

They resumed their seats, Emma kneeling at her Master's feet, and gradually the Chamber filled. Emma removed her niqab and Hans undid the chain from her collar. Emma became aware that more people were trying to crowd in than before the adjournment. Scuffles occurred in all areas as people vied for vantage points. Court officials and palace guards were in evidence, sorting out the problems. Eventually, peace was restored, and an expectant hush fell over the Chamber.

At last, the trumpet sounded. The Clerk, banged his hammer, and shouted, "All stand!" The trumpet sounded again, and the three Inquisitors re-appeared, preceded by their hawks. They resumed their seats, and the audience sat in silence.

"We have reached our conclusions," announced the Grand Inquisitor. The translator spoke.

"First, the eleven soldiers." The Clerk began reading out names, and each soldier in turn stood to attention. When they were all standing, the Grand Inquisitor continued, "You each paid twenty-five dollars for the services of the Slave. You no doubt assumed that Guards Boris and Clyde had the right to sell her services, but you did not check the truth of that assumption. To that extent, you are all culpable. The twenty-five dollars you paid is forfeit. Those of you who had sex with the Slave probably feel they have had their money's worth. Those who did not have sex may feel cheated. If so, you should address yourselves to Guards Boris and Clyde. You are free to go."

The soldiers regained their seats, most of them wearing a relieved expression.

"Master Hans!" called the Grand Inquisitor. Hans got to his feet. "You have behaved properly and correctly in all matters, first in stopping the gang rape of the Slave, and secondly in referring this case to the Inquest. You are free to go." Hans nodded at the Grand Inquisitor, and sat down.

"Slave Leila!" Emma got to her feet, and stood proudly. The Grand Inquisitor inspected his notes, then looked up and studied her reaction while he spoke. "First, we have the matter of your attempted escape. Some may regard this as a serious matter, particularly since you armed yourself secretly, and threatened a member of His Highness' Guard. We take the view, however, that since you were abducted, and not sold into slavery, you can justifiably be considered to have the right to attempt an escape. For the misdemeanour of threatening a Guard you have already been punished severely. We decide, therefore, that no further punishment is required. We believe, however, that you may prove difficult, and to enable your Master to control you adequately, your Punishment Level is increased to Four for the next month, until the twenty-fourth of June."

Emma heaved a quiet sigh of relief; she had feared worse. The Grand Inquisitor's expression grew sterner. He spoke again, after the Translator had finished. "Secondly, we have the question of your behaviour in this Chamber, and your apparent belief that this is a suitable place to exhibit sexual arousal. This is a very serious matter, but we make allowances for the fact that you are new to this environment, and will rely on your new Master to see that you are punished, and trained for the future. In order that he may punish you sufficiently, your Punishment Level is temporarily increased to Five, for the next twelve hours."