Author's note-all characters in this story are adults over the age of 18. 'Girl' is the designation used for all female slaves, no matter how old, and the Panthers use the same designation to show their contempt for the whole slaving system.
*****
Part One - The Trap
The Panther girl called Snow reached out a hand and touched her companion's elbow as they ran down the wide forest trail, and the two slowed to a very cautious walk. A few yards ahead, a juvenile sleen, some four feet in length, bared it's formidable teeth at the pair. For a moment, it stared and snarled, then darted into the thick trees and vanished.
Snow smiled. "A good omen," said the girl, who was known in the cities and villages south of the forest as Ur-Sleena - literally, the sleen from Earth.
"Can you still hear them?" Snow asked the other girl, and watched as she tilted her head and gazed down the path behind them. The other girl was Gorean born, and her senses were much more acute than anyone from Earth.
"They're still back there," the girl replied, nodding. "And I'm glad we didn't have to challenge a sleen-even a little one-with only one dagger between us."
"Only a little further to go," Snow answered and started back up the trail, running at an easy pace. They weren't trying to leave their pursuers behind; just lead them along. The second girl, called Palm Wine, sprinted to catch up, and soon the two were again running side by side.
Even by Gorean standards, Palm Wine was a beautiful girl. Tall and graceful, with honey blond hair framing an exquisite face and flowing down to the small of her back, she moved with an easy rythmn over the flattened grass. Her simple, loose tunic didn't hide her marvelous body. By Panther standards, she was almost unarmed-only a single dagger strapped to her left bicep. Her only other adornment was a gold cuff around her right ankle, a match for the one Snow wore-the symbol of the Hellion clan. She had joined the fierce clan after Snow and another clan member who called herself Ally had killed her former Master and set her free. She chose to keep her slave name as a reminder of the nightmare she had escaped.
Since her rescue, Palm Wine had been totally devoted to the clan, and to Snow in particular. Indeed, she was awed by the Earth girl, and strove daily to match her ferocity and courage. Still, she couldn't bring herself to alter her appearance the way Snow had. The Hellion leader had been very pretty once, and still had a lovely slim body and amazing electric-blue eyes, but she wore her platinum blond hair very short and ragged. It looked as if someone had casually hacked it off with a dagger-which was exactly what Snow did. Her once-pretty face was marred by hideous scars. From the corners of her mouth almost to her ears, it looked like someone had tried to cut her face in half, and there was a large 'X' carved just below her left eye. She had a golden collar around her neck, her own constant reminder of what could happen to a Panther girl who allowed herself to be captured, and a strip of cloth wrapped around her right leg, just above the knee. It didn't look like a weapon, but in a heartbeat she could convert it into a deadly sling.
Palm Wine pointed to an odd, twisted little tree, and Snow grinned, her facial scars turning a happy expression into something out of a child's nightmare.
"Shall we dance?" she laughed as the two jogged past the landmark, and for about 20 yards the two girls hopped and shuffled, moving back and forth and side to side, spinning, stomping their bare feet, turning the formerly easy to follow trail into a trampled mess. By the time they were finished, both girls were giggling, and even Snow could hear their pursuers.
"Be safe sister," Palm Wine said simply, and took two running steps, leaped and grabbed a low hanging branch, then swung herself like a gymnast over a fallen tree. Just ahead was a tiny cave, far too small for more than one person at a time to enter. She would hide there long enough for the enemy to pass, then pursue from behind. A bow and arrows were hidden inside the little cave as well.
Snow waited a few more moments, letting the men chasing them get so close she could hear their weapons rattling, then sprinted away. There were six in the party chasing her-mercenaries by the look of them, come north from Laura to try chain luck in the western forests. She and Palm Wine had spotted them the day before, and followed silently until they were sure the men would take this trail. An hour ago, they had moved ahead and showed themselves-just long enough for the men to see two unarmed Panthers, but not long enough for them to recognize Hellions. They hadn't wanted to scare the men off, and no one had seen any of their clan for two weeks, when they had raided a village some hundred miles to the west. The Goreans had given chase immediately, just liked the Panthers had hoped.
Five minutes later, Snow moved to the very far right edge of the trail, running as carefully as a tightrope walker, and came to the end of the path. The hill obstructing her way wasn't very tall, but it was nearly vertical, and there was no way she could get near the top before the men were upon her. She stopped and turned, untied the sling from around her leg, and bent to pick up a fist-size rock. Then she waited, taking deep breaths, her large blue eyes blazing with bloodlust.
When the group of slavers came into view, she bent over and put her hands on her knees, making it look like she was far more exhausted than she really was. The men slowed to a walk when they spotted her, brandishing clubs and tarn prods, and one held a slaver's net.
"By the Priest-Kings would you look at this?" one of them exclaimed. "It's HER!"
The mix of fear and eagerness in the voice made a corner of Snow's mouth twitch upward in amusement before she could help it, but when she looked up her mouth was twisted in a defiant sneer. With a flick of her wrist, she spun her sling and sent a rock flying towards the men, missing deliberately. As the rock bounced between them, she took a small step forward and growled the worst insult she knew.
"Your fathers suck the cocks of Earth men!" she shouted, and bent to pick up another stone. The men before her muttered angrily.The last man in the mercenary group, an officer of some sort judging by his feathered cloak and bright red hat, barked an order over the angry murmurs.
"Get the bitch!" he commanded, and the other five started forward. They were all tall, muscular, bare-chested, ugly and hairy, and Snow's situation looked hopeless. They laughed cruelly and uttered vile threats as they advanced, but after only a few steps, they cried out in surprise and dismay as the very ground beneath them seemed to open up. Hellion captives had dug the pit over a year earlier, and Snow wanted to dance with glee as the mercenaries vanished from sight. Their shouts turned to screams of agony as they tumbled into the pit. The bottom, some ten feet down, was covered with wooden stakes and spikes of all sizes, and even a few broadswords too battered or too heavy for the Panther girls to use as weapons. The officer's eyes went wide with anguish as his men died, and his sword fell unnoticed from his nerveless fingers.
The screams hadn't even stopped when Palm Wine's voice rang out. "On your face or die-NOW!" she snarled, "Or I'll put this arrow through your balls!"
The officer glanced back and saw the second Panther, her bow notched and drawn, and sank first to his knees, then stretched out on the grass, utterly defeated. Snow reached behind a small bush and found a short sword, then danced back around the pit and and pressed the sharp blade to the man's neck.
"It worked perfectly," Palm Wine said, looking into the pit at the bodies. She slipped the arrow back into her quiver and slung the bow over her shoulder. Drawing her dagger, she crouched next to the officer and cut the straps on his pack. She pulled out a pair of cuffs and Snow nodded in approval.
"Hands behind your back-BARA!" she snapped, using the slaver's command as she dug the sword into the man's neck. He wimpered and crossed his wrists behind his back, and Palm Wine snapped on the cuffs. Next, she reached into the pack and found a length of binding fiber. She wrapped it around both ankles and knotted it, tying the man's feet with about twelve inches of slack.
"On your feet prisoner, and no talking. No one here cares about anything you have to say." Snow stepped back and watched the man struggle to stand. She waved her sword under his nose.
"You march in silence. Every word you say will cost you a finger. Nod if you understand," she said evenly and the man bobbed his head up and down, his eyes bulging in terror.
