Chapter Two: The Harlot-Slave
Tah-ri bowed low as her master entered the tent. "Nightfall greets you well, Great General Jor-Gal-Hu-ri."
A bold lie. General Jor looked tired, ragged, irritable. His heavy steel armor bore many new scratches and was nearly painted over in spatters of caked dust.
But harlot-slaves did not speak ill of their master no matter the truth, if they wanted to avoid quivering in agony under the lash. Jor had never done that to her, but enough past masters had, so she had no desire to risk such punishment from him.
He sighed wearily. "Is my bath ready?"
She bowed. "Yes, great lord, but it may not be as warm as you like. I did not expect you so late. I always do my best to anticipate your needs, but..."
Jor grunted noncommittally. "I suppose I should be grateful I have a bath at all, this far from the One Ocean. One of the sacrifices of the battlefield. Help me off with this armor, Tah-ri."
She moved quickly to obey, careful not to let her master see her momentary scowl. Helping him with his armor was supposed to be the task of Fha-Ke-ri, his page, who was doubtless off on another over-night errand for the general. The boy would soon be able to out-pace an elk with all the running the general had him do these past weeks.
Stripping the general was a sweaty, time-consuming job. The heavy armor had been acquired at no small expense from a Darlani merchant, who had to send away for experts through the Gate to his homeworld of Ximenes to complete the task of custom-fitting it to Jor's physique. The metal and craftsmanship was far and away superior to anything that had ever been produced here on Zanrina. Why, the metal did not even rust!
But then, everything of any real worth came from off-world nowadays. The imperial powers of the worlds of Tao and Ximenes commanded the best craftsmen, smiths, and mages on all the Eleven Worlds, and used them to forge powerful trading monopolies in other, less-advanced realms.
Her outfit was also from off-world, forged by an artificer Mage from Tao. Beads and minor jewels spiraled down her body and one leg on single gossamer-like string, with stylized flanges of pewter and steel strategically placed to barely cover her nipples and nether regions. Thankfully, it possessed a minor dweomer that allowed it to effortlessly cling to her body; otherwise she would pop out of it every time she took a deep breath.
It also served the function of clearly displaying the twin tattoos on her shoulder blades that marked her not only as a harlot-slave but as property of the house of ri.
Tah-ri carefully took the sword from her master, propping it up against the map-table. Three feet long with a simple cross-bar guard and a long handle, this was one artifact that did not come from off-worlders. Handed down for generations in the ri family, it was rumored to be magical, bestowing upon its bearer unusual skill and striking power. The metal tingled under her fingers as she propped it up against the general's map-table.
When Jor was finally nude and satisfied his armor was properly stored for the night, he quickly immersed himself in the broad wooden tub. Tah-ri had painstakingly brought the water to the tub a single waterskin at a time from the nearby spring that fed this small oasis that served as the forward camp for Jor and his men. She had dutifully tended the small fire underneath, keeping the water at a pleasant temperature, until she ran out of the general's allotment of firewood for the day. This far from the One Ocean, wood was almost as rare as open water, and not even the Potentate's top military man could afford to waste too much frivolously. In the morning, the horses and other beasts in the retinue would be given the remaining bath water as part of their rations.
Jor stood up again, water cascading off him, and Tah-ri moved quickly to scrub and lather down his body with crushed soap flowers. One secret to avoiding the lash is to anticipate a master's needs without being told.
Her hands moved efficiently up and down his body, hardened to steely proportions by decades on the battlefield. This was one duty she did not mind at all; feeling his taut muscles gliding under her fingers always pleased her. Jor was so powerful, in so many exciting ways.
Her soap-covered hands eventually found their way to his manhood, stroking up and down its length. It hardened swiftly. A pleasant tingling sparked in her folds as she worked his shaft in her palms.
She wondered idly if her master knew how physically magnificent he was. She had seen and handled many male hafts since coming of age, but none had ever compared to Jor's. Over two of her hand-spans long, and so thick she could barely encircle her fingers around it. She wondered idly if its size had been enhanced by sorcery. She had heard of some of the high landholders doing that. Not that she minded, if it were true. She shivered as she remembered all the nights of incredible pleasure his member had given her...
She tore herself away from his manhood and soaped up his sack, which elicited a low moan from his throat. When she finished his legs he immersed himself again. He lay back against the side of the tub and Tah-ri began cleansing his stubly hair. Both were acutely aware of the head of his erection bobbing just above the water's surface, but ignored it for the moment. Jor liked to anticipate his sex.
"The nomads are devils, Tah-ri," he muttered after dunking himself to rinse his scalp. "Something or someone is stirring them up. I am almost sure it is that new off-world fop Entos. If only I had proof. I can never understand why the Potentate chose to give a clanless alien like him-a Ximenian, at that-overlordship of the Ki-nar-ii Valley. Water is precious enough this far from the One Ocean without a scheming devil like him controlling one of the few major oases out here. But one private negotiating session with him, and somehow that off-world devil got the Potentate to award him an entire fief..."
Jor scowled for a few moments, then continued. "Be that as it may, we thought we had the nomad scum today. We pursued them half-way across the Great Desert, it seemed, only to be led right into an ambush."
"Oh, no, my lord!" Tah-ri gasped, trying to sound sufficiently horrified. "I trust you soundly defeated them, no matter their treachery."
"Aye, but it was much more difficult than it should have been. They had magics my mages had difficulty countering." His countenance darkened. "Off-world magics, I am sure of it! I lost over a hundred of my best men. A hundred!"
