Panther Tales

Author's note-as always, all characters in this story are 18 years of age or older if they engage in any kind of sexual activity.

*****

"What in the three moons is this all about?"

Sally and her guards looked up in surprise as the deep voice rang through the small courtyard. A lone man approached, dressed in a worn but fine quality tunic and breeches. They were red with gold trim, identifying him as a Warrior, but even were he only wearing rags there would have been no doubting his caste. Even casually strolling, the man moved with a powerful, dangerous grace.

He was careful not to appear threatening, keeping his empty hands in plain sight and his movements slow and measured. He stopped a few feet away and looked over the scene, a small smile on his face.

"Well?" he asked again. "What's the story here?"

The guard still standing next to Sally cleared his throat. "Just disposing of some trash, my Lord."

The warrior let his eyes roam over Sally's nude form. "Girl!" he snapped. "Don't you know enough to kneel in the presence of a free man?"

She turned away and took another shuffling step towards the cage, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, still refusing to acknowledge anything said in Gorean. The second guard chuckled.

"She's a disobedient little bitch. Useless for anything but feeding the sleens."

The warrior's smile widened. "Such a tiny thing will barely be enough for a mouthful."

"Her owner ordered it, my Lord. He's given up on her."

The warrior's expression grew thoughtful. "Seems like such a waste. Tell you what-I'll take the girl off your hands for a copper each."

"We can't. We have our orders," the guard at the cage door replied. "And anyway you'd just be wasting your coin. The girl is untrainable."

He smirked. "All girls can be trained. And I like a challenge. Make it two coppers each. I'm only going to be in the area a couple more days. No one will ever know you made a profit off her."

The guards exchanged a glance, and the first one nodded slightly.

"All right, it's a deal." the second said. "But I have to warn you again-this one is hopeless. We've had her for three months and she's just as wild and defiant as the day she arrived."

The warrior pulled a few coins out and handed them to the men. "Well, if I can't make any headway, I'm headed towards Ko-Ro-Ba soon. A few weeks in those kennels will make a proper kajira out of the little beast."

Sally watched the whole transaction silently, keeping her expression blank. The first guard grabbed her arm and spoke to her in English.

"Congratulations girl. You're a true kajira now-you've just been sold."

Sally snorted in contempt. "Fuck that," she snarled, and tried to pull away, but the guard spun her bodily to face the warrior, gripping her biceps firmly.

"Ugly motherfucker," she spat, and the guard laughed.

"Does she speak any Gorean?" the warrior asked. "What did she say?"

"She does. She just refuses to. And you don't want to know what she said."

Sally's new owner reached out a hand and stroked her cheek possessively. "Don't worry, little beast," he crooned. "You'll find I'm a good Master-very demanding but very fair."

Her white teeth flashed as she twisted her head and snapped at his wrist. He jerked his hand away, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

"She is untrained!" he laughed. Suddenly his expression grew dark. Quick as a flash, he had a handful of her long blond hair, jerking her head back and glaring into her eyes.

"Don't try that again little slave," he growled. She sneered at him.

"My lord," the second guard interjected. "Someone may come along any second."

The warrior nodded. "Good doing business with you. Come along girl." He put a big hand on the back of her neck and began guiding her away. Sally responded by going limp, letting her body fall gently to the ground.

"Good luck!" one of the guards sang out, and they left, laughing softly. The warrior looked down at his newest purchase and shook his head.

"I know you understand me, girl. We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

Sally looked up at him, her electric-blue eyes blazing. "Fuck you," she snarled in English.

"As you wish," he replied, and yanked her to her feet. He was a large, powerful man even by Gorean standards, and it took no effort to throw the small girl up over his shoulder. She squirmed and thrashed uselessly as he carried her away, trying and failing to spin her body around enough to bite him.

He gave her a couple hard swats on the rump, but instead of getting her to settle down it just fueled her anger, and she writhed even more frantically. A few more steps and he set her down with surprising gentleness. Sally tried to roll away, but he pinned her in place with one sandalled foot. As she growled and cursed, he took a length of binding fiber from his pack.

Quickly and efficiently, he tied the fiber around the ropes on her wrists and ankles, hog-tying her. A simple cloth gag quieted her to tolerable levels, and he hoisted her back on his shoulder.

"Dealing with slaves is simple," he said, giving her another whack on the butt. "For every problem they cause, there's a solution."

They turned a corner, and she got to see a Gorean city for the first time.

Superficially, it resembled a Colonial era Earth city, all wood and stone and people on foot. There were shops with hand-painted signs, street vendors selling their wares out of carts with wooden wheels, and a group of children chasing each other around, laughing and squealing with delight. It was the adults that made it clear this wasn't Earth.

Sally saw huge, burly Gorean males working bare-chested; Free Women in their elaborate robes and veils, always accompanied by guards or suitors; collared slave girls in their beautiful, skimpy silks or sometimes stark naked, scurrying about on their errands or trailing their Master or Mistress like a faithful puppy dog; and once a squad of soldiers wearing matching breastplates and carrying long spears.

Few of them even glanced at the man carrying a bound, naked girl over his shoulder, and the ones that did either nodded a respectful greeting or simply ignored what was apparently a common sight. The casual acceptance of her situation made Sally realize just how alone she was. No one would help her. No one cared that she was a kidnapped prisoner. She was truly on her own.

After about fifteen minutes, they passed through a gate and out of the city. Sally noted that there was a large group of well armed guards at the entrance, checking and inspecting everyone coming in to the city, but just one at the exit, and all he did was nod and say 'be well.' Apparently it was a lot easier to leave than to enter.

She was carried down a hard dirt road, then they turned on a smaller path. She could still see the city walls when she heard shouts of greeting. Carried feet-first, she couldn't see where they were going until after they had arrived.

It was a kind of camp, with several large tents half-circling around a fire pit. A simple stockade-a row of poles pushed into the ground-arched around half the camp, and at the back of the area was a high, imposing barrier of thick, thorny bushes. Another man in Warrior garb stood sentry at a gap between the poles, and welcomed her captor back warmly.

"Did a little shopping eh?" he laughed, and the man carrying her chuckled.

"You know I'm a sucker for a bargain!"

He carried her to one of the tents as she looked all around, alert for anything that might be useful. She saw about a dozen warriors, mostly lounging around on small stools or on the ground, and a few girls doing chores. Most of the men raised a hand or called 'Tal' as her captor strode through the camp.

He pushed through the tent flap and set Sally down, not too roughly, on a pile of fur blankets. It was near dusk, and the interior of the tent was shadowy. It was about fifteen feet square and sparsely furnished-a few chests of various sizes, a brazier, several plain three-legged stools, and two big piles of furs.

There was a wooden stake driven into the ground just behind her, sticking up about three feet, with a chain dangling from the top. He turned her collar so the single O-ring was in the back, then clipped it to the chain. He ran his hand down her long blond hair, eliciting more muffled snarls of anger from her throat.

He unsheathed a plain dagger and crouched down next to her. "Hold still little beast," he said mildly, "I'm going to free your legs. Don't thrash or you might get cut."

He sliced the hogtie rope up by her hands, then slipped the dagger under the binds on her ankles and cut them away, making a dismayed sound when her saw the raw condition of her ankles.

"We have some salve that will help that. If you're good, we won't have to keep tying you up and you can heal."

As soon as she realized her legs were untied, she scrambled away, pushing with her feet until she was as far from him as the chain would allow. She glared up angrily and bent her knees, ready to kick if he approached, but he merely chuckled and stood up.

"I have a few things to attend to girl. I'll be back shortly."

He put his knife back in it's sheath and walked out. Sally noted how the tent flap opened to the right when he pulled it back.

She silently counted to ten, forcing herself to remain motionless, listening carefully for any sounds, her eyes scanning the tent for useful items. Her teeth clenched as she rolled up onto her knees.

'Idiot didn't even ask the guards what I was capable of,' she thought angrily as she pulled her hands apart as far as they would go, then hooked her toes over the rope binding her wrists behind her back. She fell on her side, grunting and panting with strain as she worked her legs through, inch by agonizing inch. It stretched her arms and shoulders nearly to the tearing point, and cost her a little skin off her knees, but finally she had her hands in front of her.

Quickly, she unhooked herself from the chain and yanked the gag out of her mouth. She stood up shakily, her legs and especially her arms cramped and stiff from the bonds, and picked up a log from next to the brazier. It was about three feet long, and thicker than ideal, but she could hold it easily enough with both hands.

She moved one of the little stools over by the tent's door flap, placing it so anyone entering would have to push the material between himself and her. She climbed up, resting the log on her shoulder, and waited.

Anyone who saw her at that moment would have run in the other direction as fast as they could move. Her face was a grim mask of determination. Her mouth kept twitching, and her blue eyes burned as her rage simmered, just waiting for the right moment to erupt into violence.

At last, she heard footsteps approaching, and she eased the log off her shoulder, her heart pounding as the adrenaline began to flow in earnest. She bent her knees a little and her muscles tensed as she silently prayed the bastard hadn't decided to bring someone else in to show off his new slave. Even thinking of the word made her lip curl in anger.

He stepped through the opening, careless in his arrogance. As soon as his head appeared, Sally stepped off the stool and swung the hunk of firewood with all her strength, letting gravity add to the force of the blow as she fell.

The wood connected with a 'thud', and he staggered forward one step before falling on his knees and elbows. Sally managed to stay on her feet, and brought the makeshift club down two more times. He made one small moaning sound, then sprawled on his face on the dirt floor of the tent. She had cracked his head open, and the flowing blood was very dark in the gloom.

Moments passed, and she wrinkled her nose as the smell of death filled the tent. She looked down at the body-the first person she'd ever killed-and realized she felt nothing. It didn't feel like murder. It was more akin to killing a pesky skunk or raccoon back home.

'Fucker deserved it,' she thought, and went to work moving him deeper into the tent. He was far too heavy to lift or even drag, so she was forced to roll him back to the furs. She piled more furs on top of his corpse, hiding his body.

She began digging through the chests. She found a shirt she could wear-it was baggy as hell and hung down almost to her knees, but it was the best option she had.

In another chest she found a few keys on a string. She tried them on her cuffs, and somewhat surprisingly the third one unlocked them. Apparently Gorean slave owners commonly used cuffs that could be opened with a common key. Finally a piece of luck!

She kept looking. She wasn't going to leave the tent until very late, when hopefully the only person out and about would be the guard at the entrance-or maybe he would even be asleep! She shook her head-that was probably too much to wish for.

She found a pack she could wear over her shoulder, and threw in a dagger, a second shirt, a sort of gourd that looked like it would work as a canteen, and a big handful of gold coins. She had no idea how much money it was, but it sure seemed like a lot.

Finally, she felt she was as prepared as she could possibly be. She sat on the stool close by the door, the warrior's sword across her knees, and munched on a kind of biscuit. It was dry and tasteless, but it was food. She looked with longing at the sword, but knew she couldn't take it with her. It was too hard to run carrying something so bulky, and if she was spotted before she got out of the camp there was no way to explain having it.

Thirsty, tired, but excited by the prospect of escape and freedom, she waited. If anyone came in, she decided she would try to kill him and then make a run for it. She knew her chances weren't good, but at least she could go down fighting-and maybe take a couple of the animals with her.

Time crawled by as Sally sat and thought, trying to remember everything smart she could think of about being a fugitive. She thought back on the hunting and camping lessons her brothers had given her as a little girl. The phrase 'the human eye is attracted to movement' kept popping into her head, reminding her that sometimes her best move would be to not move at all.

There were occasional bursts of noise from the camp, but no one peeked in-she assumed no one wanted to bother a man who was busy 'enjoying' a new play toy. Finally she couldn't stand to wait any longer. Feeling a bit silly with a dead body in the same room, she took a few minutes to stretch out her arms and legs.

Then she shouldered the pack, picked up the firewood, took a deep breath, and slipped out of the tent.

She took a couple steps to her left and froze, watching and listening. There was no activity, but it wasn't that dark. A few embers still shone in the fire pit, and the reflection of Gor's three moons kept the night from being too black.

She took a moment to look up at those moons, and for a brief moment the hopelessness of her plight threatened to overwhelm her. She was alone and friendless, not just in another state or country, but on an alien planet!

She took another deep breath and clenched her jaw. 'Feel sorry for yourself later,' she thought. 'Right now we have shit to do.'

She spotted the exit to the camp, and the guard sitting on a stool. She walked over slowly, her head bowed, trying her best to look meek and frightened. When she saw him turn her way and stand up, she started babbling nonsense in Gorean.

"Master...my Master wants...Master said to...ummm the Master asked if you..." she mumbled as she moved closer and closer. The guard watched her, an amused smirk on his face.

"Master needs...please Master..." she continued until she was only a couple steps away. Then she looked past his left shoulder and opened her eyes wide, as if surprised.

"What the hell is that?" she squeaked, staring at nothing.

The guard fell for it. He started to turn to look, and she flung herself at him, swinging the log, putting every ounce of her weight behind the blow. The wood slammed into his jaw and he crumpled like a boxer that just took a perfect right cross.

She put her small hands on one end of the piece of wood and hammered it down onto his head, dropping to her knees with the force of her effort. There was a sickening 'crunch,' and when she looked his jaw was hanging at an impossible angle.

She didn't waste one second to check if he was still alive. With a quick glance behind her, she scurried out through the gate and into the night.

As she ran, she thought about how she had been brought to the camp. It seemed like the city should be to her left, and she peered into the dark until she caught a glimpse of it's shadowy walls.

'OK,' she thought. 'City to the left-we go right.'

She forced herself not to sprint, keeping a steady, ground-eating pace. She was appalled at how quickly she started to breathe heavily. All those weeks of being caged and bound so much had ruined her cardio fitness. She was forced to vary her speed-jog, walk, run, walk-giving herself some rest as she moved.

What mattered what putting as much distance as possible between herself and the camp before morning came and they discovered the two bodies, or maybe one body and one injured man. When her side began to ache, when her legs began to wobble, when her breath came in ragged gasps, she forced herself to keep going.

Looking up into the alien sky again, she saw an exceptionally bright star. She made the arbitrary decision that she would follow that star. At least that would help keep her from going in circles.

She chose to stay within sight of the main road. It was mostly open fields here, with a few patches of trees. All she wanted now was to find water and a place to hide before dawn broke.

On and on she walked and ran, only her will and her fear keeping her going. At last, when she was staggering with fatigue, she made the decision to head for a fairly large stand of trees about a mile to her right. At least she could find a place to hide and sleep.

She caught another break. There was a tiny pond, no bigger than a backyard goldfish pond on Earth, between the road and the trees. She fell on her belly and stuck her head in the cool water, than drank her fill.

A few more steps and she was in tiny forest. Her muscles trembling from exhaustion, she managed to drag a couple deadfalls together and crawled under them. Taking the dagger out of her pack, she clutched it tightly and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.