Barbarian Bait

The lottery is completely impartial. It HAS to be to be fair. Every girl enters the lottery pool when she turns nineteen and exits it when she is twenty-one. Everyone faces the same odds, even lower echelon royals like myself can and do end up at pole bait. Once, even the crown princess had to perform this onerous duty. I know that the politicians hate when folks call the "peace exchange" by its popular name, but that is what the girls end up being. No one can argue with the results, even if every citizen hates the cost. If not for the "peace exchange" the barbarians of this world would go on rampages.

Without the peace exchange, the horsemen of the plains would raid the city for brides and tribute. Us civilized folks are usually no match for the barbarian hordes. One on one, we do fine, but as a unit, the barbarians are far better fighters and have greater numbers that we city folk. In truth, our soft lives and the fine things we savor would have to be sacrificed if war broke out, and all of us are too attached to the good life to deal with hardship. The barbarians, despite the antipathy they feel towards us city folk, need the things like silk, fabrics, and other products that we produce to maintain the level of life satisfaction that they desire. From the barbarians, my people obtain untanned leather, bone, horns, and other raw materials. Tradesmen and merchants serve as intermediaries, moving between the two worlds and maintaining the trade links

Maintaining the peace and bringing fresh blood into both communities is the "peace exchange." One day a year, at the peace fair on the plains beyond the walls of the city, barbarian men and civilized men battle for brides.

If a girl's name was drawn on either side, she was chained by the wrists to one of the dozens of stone pillars erected in a line on the plain. After casting off her concealing robe, clad in only scanty bits of cloth called a trefia, and with a valuable bauble either around her neck or in her earlobes, she became the prize to be battled over by a city warrior and a barbarian from the plains. As the men battled, the woman cheered on her champion. It was strictly winner take all.

For a city girl like me, she became the bride of a barbarian, never to see her parents and family again, her life of comfort at an end. What actually happened to the women once they entered the barbarian fold, was a great mystery. In all the centuries, only a handful of taken brides had returned to the civilized world. As for the barbarian women lost to civilized men, their stories were well known to us city girls, there were new ones arriving every year. I have a bit of barbarian blood myself, one of my grandfathers, several generations back had won one of these fierce and beautiful women in hand to hand combat. They tend to be tall and lite, and are uniformly beautiful, and possess an independence streak, that I quite frankly, admire. A city warrior who vanquished a barbarian to win his bride became quite the celebrity. His friends praised him and he was awarded a month of free meals in the finest restaurants in town and a year of free haircuts from the barbers. It was rumored that these exotic women knew all sorts of barbarian tricks for keeping their men happy between the sheets. Their new husbands always wore the widest smiles for a very long time after the peace fair. Most of these women adapted well to city life. They tended to have keen minds for business, and excelled at haggling, assets their new husbands admired and which helped the two as a couple thrive. To a woman, not one of them would discuss or disclose the fate of the city women who had exchanged places with them. Their inscrutability was part of their alluring mystique.

I had made it through the first year of the lottery unscathed. Then I turned twenty and my name was drawn at the formal ceremony, two weeks before the peace fair. Everybody turned out to watch the drawing. All of us girls gathered in a knot to comfort our friends as their names were drawn. There was a little better than half chance that any one of us would end up in barbarian hands, but the two week lead time gave us a chance to wind down our affairs and say goodbyes that we hoped were not final. It also gave us a chance to select a champion to fight for us. Really adventurous girls allowed their champions to be selected by random drawing on the day of the fair, the rest of us wanted some say in who won us if the barbarian ogling us was defeated.

Girls who were selected had two options. If they were very pretty, many young men would approach her parents to ask the honor of battling in her favor. A girl, in consultation with her parents, would either select the man the family liked the most or just went by size and brute strength. Most girls knew the young men they chose socially. Often it was a boyfriend or a man she previously thought unavailable. As for me, my champion was pre-ordained. My brother Tye would battle for me. My parents had definite plans for my future. Minor royals like myself were quite desirable. Once I made it through the lottery, they would introduce me to other desirable minor royals, set a dowry price that both sides deemed fair, and I would settle down to domestic life in another royal household. Not especially exciting perhaps, but it would allow me to live the life of luxury I was used to. One demand I had made my parents agree to was that any man they selected must own a large stable of horses so I could continue to ride and race. If I had that freedom, I thought, even being married to an obese middle aged royal, as little more than a breathing piece of artwork, would be tolerable.

My parents plans were progressing unimpeded. There was little doubt that Tye would win. Your name could be called only once. So, after Tye vanquished the uncivilized heathen wanting me, I was forever free of the tension and nerves of the lottery drawing night. Tye is two years younger than me but HUGE! He even towers over my dad who is very tall. He is also an expert swordsman. He has been practicing since he was eight, Every single day he would come home from training, smile and say, "Luz, don't you ever worry. On peace fair day, I will defend you." and then he would laugh and enthusiastically display what he had learned.

Despite the fact that everyone in town knew that Tye would be my champion, a steady stream of young men appealed for the honor. My mother said it was because I was so pretty, my father claimed that they just wanted a free dinner. I'd been told that I am pretty. I'm tall, with long brown hair, and very nice legs, even if nobody ever sees them. Other girls say they envy my face, but I don't see what they are talking about. Most of the boys who came to dinner were handsome and healthy, but all of them, save one, paled next to Tye. The one exception, Dar. I have always fancied Dar, as he makes my heart skip beats. He is tall and blonde. He has the prettiest hazel eyes and manliest chin. His shoulders are so broad and his arms so muscular, that I have no doubt that, in a hand to hand combat he could best even my brother.

Dar and I also share a delicious secret. On day last summer, I was riding my stallion, Fig, through the woodlands. I KNOW I should not leave the city unescorted, that marauders and barbarians sometimes prowl beyond the city gates but Fig is fast as lightning, he can outrun any horse, even a barbarian's. I had also brought along a crossbow and arrows, just in case I ended up on foot. It was a hot, sun-drenched day, Fig needed watering so I directed him to a small pond I spied. Once I reached the shore of the lake I discovered a tethered horse and a pile of male clothing. With a shock, I recognized the horse, it belonged to Dar! No sooner had I come to this conclusion than Dar surfaced from beneath the surface of the water. He must have heard me gasp for he turned and faced me. He stood waist deep in the water and smiled at me,

"Dar," I stammered, "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Luz."

"I was simply taking Fig for a ride." I replied.

"Alone?"' asked Dar.

I nodded in response.

Dar winked at me and said, "It's a rather hot day, Luz, why don't you come in for a swim."

As he spoke, he stepped closer to me. Suddenly he was in thigh high water. I spied his erect manhood below the knotted muscles of his stomach. I liked what I saw. Despite that, I remembered how I was raised. I replied,

"Dar, you devil, what if someone finds out!"

"You ARE alone,Luz, aren't you?

"Well, yes."

"Who would know, Luz? I won't tell."

"But ..." I stammered.

"Typical female. Spies on a man in the altogether and won't give him the same privilege, COWARD!"

"No man calls ME a coward, Dar."

"Prove it!"

Even though there was not another person for many kilometers, I still looked around nervously. The sweat from the heat had caused my dress to adhere to me like a second skin. The water looked so cool and inviting, I also knew that situations such as this would not be available to me once I was the captive wife of some other royal house. I would prove to Dar that I was made of sterner stuff. I pulled the clingy dress away from my skin and over my head. I quickly removed my riding boots and stood in my under slip, beneath this I had on a pair of padded step-ins and a bandeau. My breath came heavy, as though I was winded from riding and I flushed crimson before, as fast as possible, I slid off the rest of my garments and plunged into the cool refreshing lake.

Dar was laughing as I surfaced. I laughed as well. After we took long looks at each other's naked bodies, we spent the next several hours swimming and sunning ourselves on smooth rocks by the shore. Dar looked at me in a way that I really really liked. He told me that I was beautiful in a way that was totally convincing. It was something I had heard from boys before but had never allowed myself to believe. It made me feel very good indeed. When he made a move to embrace and kiss me I put up no resistance. He began to kiss down my body. His warm, yet soft lips felt divine on my bare skin. He nibbled my breasts, I was amazed at the sensitivity of my nipples, Dar's teeth and tongue were wonders. He made my nipples stand erect in a way they never had before. He was so gentle and kind, between kisses, he praised my beauty, my bravery, and my intelligence, all of which was wonderful to hear. Then he reached the furred warmth of my sex! Gently, he pulled apart the lips of my cunny and licked me all over. He certainly knew what he was doing because he found and focused on this one spot that made my body all tingly, just like it does after riding Fig over rocky ground for a long time. Never before, however, had it been as intense as it was with Dar.

When Dar had finished working his magic on me, I wanted to make him feel as happy as he had made me, I tried to follow his instructions and kiss and do the things to his manhood with my lips and tongue as he instructed. His thing felt nice in my mouth. I don't think I was very good at it but Dar didn't seem to mind. After I did that awhile, Dar rolled ontop of me and his manhood plunged into my secret place. Now I had watched mares and stallions all of my life, In theory, I knew all about the human mating process but I was totally unprepared for the sensation of Dar's member deep inside me. He began to pump away and it felt very good indeed. I felt that happy tingle again, only this time, far stronger. I began to breathe really fast and then I felt like I was above the two of us looking down for a moment or two. I think I called Dar's name. I felt his seed flowing into me followed by his softening. We kissed for a very long time when he had finished. Only then did I feel a sense of shame. I had a difficult time looking at Dar as we redressed.

Then like, passing strangers, we returned to town by different routes. I knew that what I had done, was supposed to be wrong. Young ladies did not lie with men until their nuptials. That is what I had been taught to believe, so I felt tremendous guilt, But, after a few days, the guilt evaporated. I felt as though I had done nothing wrong. Dar was sweet and gentlemanly. I felt like he was probably kinder to me than the middle-aged royal I was most likely destined to be married off to. Even though it might be years off I was already dreading THAT night! Sometimes my preordained life was so frustrating.

After Dar's evening as a dinner guest of the family, I campaigned smartly for him to champion me. It was not an entirely wasted effort. My parents decided that if my brother Tye, through some fluke, were not able to fight for me, Dar would be a fitting replacement. Dar sealed the deal by telling my parents, "In my opinion, Luz is the only young woman in the entire city worth battling a barbarian for."

My father told him, "You certainly know the right things to say, young man."

After he left my father was less sanguine.

"If that boy DOES have to battle for you, I will give him whatever he desires to forgo asking for your hand. Even if he WERE suitable match material, and he is not, I don't like the way that boy looks at you, it is as if he knows what you look like under your dress." stated my father while I stifled a laugh.

The days until the peace fair dwindled. I and the other girls who had been chosen, as a group, visited a team of seamstresses for the fitting of our trefias. None of us wanted to be hanging there nude, which was the only other option. A lot of the girls complained. I could sympathize. The entire purpose of the garment was to expose as much of our bodies as possible so that the barbarians could appraise us. The barbarian girls would be wearing the same thing but somehow, I didn't think it bothered them as much.

Girls of the city wore ankle length dresses that only rarely had any decolletage. Since no two of us had exactly the same shape, the garments had to be individually tailored. I gazed in the full-length mirror as I stood there in the two bits of cloth. My flat tummy, long shapely legs and modest sized bust would meet the favor of every male eye, barbarian and civilized. That should have bothered me but I delighted in it. Stripped down with the other girls, I realized, for the first time, that I truly was pretty. Prettier than most of them in fact. As I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, I thought it such a shame that a body like mine would end up underneath some out of shape old man. "Why can't I marry Dar?" I thought sadly.

The last part of our fitting party was a lot of fun, at first. We donned our concealing robes and visited house to house, receiving sweets and small gifts from all of our parents. We had sing-alongs and ended the night with a campfire on the edge of the city. These things were always bittersweet because a portion of us were going to be taken. Since we would never see those girls again, it would be like some of them had died. There was a kind of wistful sadness I can't quite describe about this part of the event. We tried to give each other hope. More than one girl said to me, "I wish I had Tye, defending ME!"

In a quiet moment, I told the girls, "Some of you will be lucky, in a few days you will have handsome husbands like Dar or even my brother. I'm stuck getting married next year or the year after, that to some rich guy my parents select for me. I wish there was a big strong warrior battling for me!"

"If it's any consolation," Teri told me, "The barbarians will be battling over the opportunity to fight for you!"

I smiled and said, "that's nice of you to say, Teri. In a way, I feel sorry about the barbarian that faces my brother, he will never know what hit him." Then we all laughed together.

When I returned very early in the morning, I got a few hours of sleep. When I woke, my mother took me aside and tried to give me a lecture about sex, just in case Tye lost. It was all so stupid. I'd been breeding stallions and mares since I was twelve! And I had had that wonderful afternoon with Dar. I honestly thought that I could tell my mom a thing or two. After letting Mom sufficiently embarrass herself, I sat down to breakfast. Since it might be my last, mom and the servants pulled out all the stops. What a breakfast! Two hours before noon I redressed in my trefia and robe and Mom and Dad, Tye, and myself rode out to the fair grounds.

As a little girl, my very favorite event in all the world was the peace fair. The colors, the sounds, the music. Barbarian bands and city bands good-naturedly tried to outdo each other taking common tunes and putting their own spin on them. The resulting melodies were heavenly. I was always drawn to the trick riding events. The city riders were quite skilled, but they could not hold a candle to the talents of the barbarians. Not for the first time did I wish that I was a boy so that I could be a trick rider when I grew up. There were vendor booths with wonderful food. Some of the barbarian's cuisine is really good. I remember when I was sixteen, having a brief conversation with a warrior woman in her stockade before her time at the peace pole. She seemed so confident and self-assured. She looked at the city men appraising her with disdain.

It wasn't much of a conversation, a few sentences at most. She said I was a pretty young thing that needed a big strong barbarian to truly appreciate me. I forget what I said in return but the encounter always stuck with me because, aside from the women brought to serve out their time on the peace pole, there were no other barbarian females present. Barbarian boys and teens yes but females no, aside from a few superannuated crones. It only confounded the mystery as to the daily life of the barbarian women. The rumors about them ranged from the plausible to the absurd. All one could say for certain is that they existed, somewhere out on the plains. From time to time they were even spotted. Usually viewed from a long distance, they appeared regal and majestic on horseback, clad in fur and leather and silk, armed with swords. riding proudly next to their men.

This year the fair was very different. At the morning drawing, I learned that I would be on the fifth pole during the third heat. Mom hugged me so tight I thought I would break in half. To wear around my neck, she gave me the very rare string of black pearls that dad had given her on their tenth wedding anniversary. As she clasped them around my neck she said very softly, "These have always brought me luck." Tye was so ready to go it was comical. My father kissed me on the lips, not on the cheeks as was his custom. "Whatever happens today, Luz," he said in a voice I had never heard him use before, " always carry my love with you." For some reason, that made me cry.

Under armed guards consisting of both barbarians and city men, we "pole girls" were herded into a stockade. with just our thin robes to protect us from the intense sun and a sudden breeze that came off the plains we pushed up against each other for warmth. Some of us cried, but most of us were quiet and contemplative.

First up, the first wave of city girls. I recognized Mara, who was one of my distant cousins and Heidi, who I knew from school. I called to both of them, but I doubt they heard me over the roar of the assembled crowd arrayed in bleachers and every open space. The girls shed their robes and the crowd of assembled barbarians roared. Each girl was then cuffed by her wrists and the chain shortened until she was on her tiptoes, back to the pillar.

The first round of barbarian warriors surged forward like a stream of ants and carefully inspected each dangling female. The rules were strict, they could look but not touch. Fondling a female before a contest was decided was grounds for disqualification. From where I stood, I had a good view of Mara. I was proud that she did not flinch or shy away from the leering faces and raucous comments of the barbarians who appraised her. I had always thought Mara very pretty, she must be, as several barbarians desired her. They rolled dice to determine her final challenger. The size of the barbarians amazed me. The one who won the right to vie for Mara was the largest of all. For the first time, I thought that Tye might have his hands full. When all of the barbarians had settled themselves in the battle circle laid out before each column, the warriors from the city marched in, greeted the woman whose honor they were shielding and put on their war faces.