The place was evidently extra-dimensional in some way, a pocket of reality that did not fit within the regular dimensions of the physical world. Almandar had heard of such things before, had even seen them on a smaller scale, but he had never experienced one large enough to actually walk into. Judging from the doors that led off from the stone flagged corridor, it was even larger than they could see from here, an entire home hidden by what was presumably an easily portable door.
They stepped carefully and quietly down the corridor, not wanting to alert anyone inside. Luck, however, was not with them. Before they had moved even half way along, one of the occupants turned the corner at the far end and saw them, and let out a sudden yell. He recognised the red-headed slave he had met at the market – he seemed to recall her name was Kara – and immediately cast a sleep spell in her direction.
The woman collapsed, her legs falling from under her, and hit the floor heavily. Almandar darted forward, for a moment moving away from the others as the woman's shout continued to echo through the magical space, evidently enhanced somehow. He did not want to hurt her, for she was an innocent victim, just as Mei-Xing was, just as all the harem were, but it was imperative that Sashjant and his slaves not have the chance to arm themselves.
"Let's..." said Tarissa, but at that moment everything went dark.
Almandar found himself being whirled about, as if caught in a hurricane. He could not see or hear the others, but he sensed that they were being pulled somewhere else. He should not have moved away from them, should not have allowed his emotions to override his instincts.
He barely avoided stumbling, but, just seconds later, the motion stopped with a sudden lurch. He threw a hand out to the wall, and found the stone oddly smooth beneath his fingertips. It was probably not real stone, he reflected, but that hardly mattered now. What was important was that he was in a pitch black corridor, apparently separated from his companions.
He strained his ears to see if he could hear anything. The place could not be that large, after all. Sure enough, he thought he could hear Tarissa's voice some distance away, although he could not make out the words. He was about to move in that direction, when he heard a footfall behind him.
It was soft, barely audible, but unmistakable nonetheless. He span round, and raised his arms in a gesture for a spell, but he could see nothing in the blackness. Was it Sashjant himself, in which case directing a spell with a wide blast down the corridor should hit him no matter where he was standing? Or was it one of the enslaved women, in which case he did not want to cast anything destructive?
For a moment, he was paralysed with indecision – his morals once again getting the better of him, for he did not want to hurt an innocent victim. Whoever it was ran straight at him, and he began the motions to cast a defensive spell. Before he could even finish, however, they were on top of him, a heavy body slamming into him, knocking him to the ground. Whoever it was could apparently see in the darkness.
He wriggled round, trying to free himself, but a strong arm wrapped around his neck, forcing him back, and a heavy leg wrapped around one of his. He could not possibly cast a spell in such a position, and whoever had him in their grip was clearly stronger than he was. It had to be either Sashjant, or the warrior-woman that travelled with him. Hopefully, it was the latter, although one of the meeker members of the harem would have been better still.
He reached for his dagger, the only defence still left to him. A strong hand caught his – his captor's other arm still around his throat – and he found himself wrestling against somebody powerfully muscular. He heard a slight grunt of exertion from the other person; feminine he thought, which at least meant he wasn't facing the demon itself.
But if it was one of the harem, she was incredibly strong for a woman, and smashed his hand down hard against the stonework. At first, he managed to maintain the grip on the dagger, although he could get it nowhere near her skin, but she continued to batter it against the wall, and on the third stroke, the weapon slipped from his abused fingers. She pulled the hand behind his back, wrapping a thong around his wrist.
He tried to kick out as she moved, but to no avail, and his other arm was soon caught in her iron grip, and forced to meet its twin, then tied securely to it with the thong.
"You are my prisoner! If you try to escape, I will break your neck."
The voice was, indeed, feminine, with a guttural accent he could not place. He had only seen three members of the harem; Mei-Xing, Kara, and a stocky blonde woman, but his fellow adventurers had identified two others, one of whom they said was unquestionably a warrior. It was evidently she that he had had the misfortune to meet, but being her prisoner at least sounded better than being dead.
Somewhere out there, Tarissa and the others were still active, and, aside from Sashjant himself, he doubted there was anyone else in here who could pose them much of a threat. Hopefully, then, he just had to wait to be rescued. Which was embarrassing, but hardly hopeless. For now, all he could do was to cooperate and play for time if he could, keeping this warrior away from the others. Once Sashjant was dealt with, she would no longer be a problem.
"Get up!" she hissed, roughly hauling him to his feet, Standing behind his back, she pushed him forward, adding "now walk."
They moved down the lightless corridor for a little, and it was evident once again that she either knew her way very well indeed, or had some sort of magical assistance that allowed her to see in the darkness. Eventually, she pushed a door open, revealing a lighted room beyond. He noticed that the light did not spill out into the corridor, suggesting that the darkness was magical itself; even if he had had a chance to cast a light spell, it probably would not have worked.
His captor pushed him inside, and he found himself in what appeared to be a kitchen, full of pots and bundles of food, with a metal stove in one corner, and a large, cloth-covered table in front of it.
"Sit!" she said, forcing him down into a chair, and, as she moved away to watch him, he got his first real chance to see her.
His first thought was that she was tall; incredibly tall for a woman. He estimated that she might be six foot six, making her a good deal taller than he was, and she could hardly be described as willowy. It was said that somewhere out in the Wild Lands, there was a tribe of half-ogres, stronger by far than any human. He could believe that from her height and build, but not from her looks, for, size apart, she looked perfectly human.
In fact, like all of Sashjant's harem, she was an attractive woman, although the angry scowl on her face was doing little to emphasise that. Her clothing, nonetheless, did suggest that she hailed from the Wild Lands, regardless of whether or not she had any ogre blood in her veins. She wore a sleeveless leather top, held on by straps over her bare shoulders, and with a wide belt decorated with metal badges bearing barbaric designs. Below the belt, she wore leather shorts so brief they were hardly more than panties, and a pair of knee-length boots fringed with the hair of some shaggy beast.
Apart from that, and leather bracers around each wrist, her legs and arms were bare. Bare, and very muscular, with thews that would not have looked out of place on a dwarf, but seemed odd on a human woman, especially one so tall. Yet human she surely was, judging from her face, which certainly lacked any trace of ogre or orc in its features. She had long brown hair, cascading down her back, and held in place by a golden circlet with a glittering blue gem – he wondered if that was the magical device she had used to see in the darkness. Her eyes were also blue, a deep, stunning blue that offset the darker colour of her hair, and she had full lips, currently set in something of a sneer.
Even in his current predicament, he could not help but also notice that, above the top of her leather bodice, she had a magnificent cleavage. Sashjant clearly had not just wanted a warrior.
She pointed a dagger towards him. It was not his own, which had been dropped out in the corridor, but a sharp steel blade with an ivory handle that he had no doubt she knew how to use. Almandar decided that, for the moment, it would probably not be wise to annoy her.
"Who are you?" she barked, "and how did you get in?"
"I'm a magician, I bypassed your lock."
She grunted, eyes watching him warily. "How many others are with you?"
"There's just me."
"Liar!" she shouted, jabbing the knife forward until it was less than an inch from his face, "I heard the woman speak, so I know there are others. Two? Three? Do not lie to me."
He said nothing, and she scowled angrily, before pulling the knife back.
"It does not matter," she said, eventually, "my master will find and destroy them. And I have you as a prisoner. If you do not tell me what I want, my master will question you, and learn everything anyway."
"Your master is a demon. I know that much."
"Perhaps," she said, "but a great and powerful demon, more magnificent than you can imagine."
"I didn't think the people of the Wild Lands liked demons?"
She frowned, as if puzzled by something, then shook her head, "he is different. His glory is unsurpassed, as you will find when he crushes you into oblivion. Now, what of Mei-Xing?"
"I don't know who you mean."
"Ah, but you do," she said, taking a step closer, still waving the weapon in his direction. "Kara saw you leave with her. She described you, so I know you are the same man. Although I do not think you are as handsome as she said, for you are puny, like all city folk."
He could not tell her where Mei-Xing was, for, in the event he was not rescued, he had to at least ensure that the eastern woman had the best possible chance to avoid recapture and enslavement. But he wondered how much he could tell this woman, for perhaps he had another chance here.
He had not told the others exactly how he had manoeuvred Mei-Xing into a place where he could cast the spell that freed her, although Calleslyn, at least, surely suspected. But it had taught him something valuable about their demonic foe. The members of the harem were obsessed with Sashjant, the victims of some powerful ongoing enchantment. They would do anything for him, including serving as his sexual playthings.
But it was clear that the demon had no such attachment to them. He could probably not attack them outright, for such things normally broke that sort of enchantment, but that did not mean he had to actually care for them. In particular, the demon's sexual exertions had nothing of Sarlene's love in them. He fucked the women whenever he felt like it, but he was not interested in how they responded to that, only in achieving his own pleasure. The enchantment counteracted that, partly, but it was obvious that Mei-Xing had been sexually unfulfilled, and that was what had allowed him the chance to seduce her.
