Slave to the Empire:
Rogue
"You want us to go...where?" Kieron the Rogue blinked. His two
associates also did not bother to hide their disbelief. The Lord who sat
opposite them in the darkened corners of the tavern leaned forward. All around
them the sounds of the tavern seemed mute and distant.
"I have come into possession of a map of the border of the Empire. Just
on the other side is an old tomb that was captured during one of the wars a long
time ago. In that tomb is the key to defeating the Empire once and for all."
His eyes seemed to glow in the dim light. Kieron knew this was a bad sign. No
one violates the Empire's borders with impunity. And no one ever returns.
"I don't buy it." Rolf, the Tracker, spoke. "If this 'key' could
defeat the Empire, do you think they would leave it lying about? Especially in
a tomb so close to the border?" Rolf looked anxious as the man spoke. There
was something wrong, Kieron noticed. Something he wasn't saying.
The man waved aside the questions. "THEY," he announced grandly.
"Cannot touch it."
Kieron had a hard time believing him.
For thousands of years the Empire has stood the test of time. Ancient.
Inviolate. Forbidden to any male who did not accept the divine sovereignty of
the Empress. In the dim echoes of the past the Empire was born, from across the
realms, refugees, mainly women and children, made their way across the great
mountains and to the passes and valleys therein. They survived, thrived even,
in the harshest of conditions, until the Empire was born. They espoused the
divine right of the Female to rule, and woe be to any male who challenged such
claims. Thousands of females of every race flocked to the realms in the
beginning, and soon the Empire had a population that rivaled the greatest of the
Realms.
"Let us," Ambrosis, the Sorcerer, spoke, fidgeting with the folds of his
robes. "Accept for the moment that all you say is true. What is in it for us?"
"The eternal gratitude of the King." The man smiled grandly. "And
wealth beyond imagining."
Kieron liked the wealth bit. Gratitude was often forgotten once the
wine gave out. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was
definitely wrong. He glanced at his companions for the moment.
"Please," He said. "Allow me to confer with my associates."
The Lord nodded and stood, pausing to fondle one of the slaves that
worked the tavern, then left. Kieron wasn't too fond of slavery, but since it
was the practiced norm of this kingdom, who was he to challenge it?
"Well?" Kieron spoke.
"Suicide." Rolf took a big drink.
"Perhaps." Ambrosis replied. "If the tomb is where he says it is we
have a chance of getting in and getting out before they notice us."
"You've been sniffing incense too long." Rolf countered. "Correct me
if I am wrong, but there are Dragons on the Empire's side, correct?"
"Technically." The sorcerer replied. "We know they have nests in the
mountains, and the Empire does nothing to them..."
"What about the consequences?" Kieron asked. "If this Empire
shattering weapon exists. Do we want to subject it citizens to the world
outside. If you remember your history, the Empire never opened hostilities nor
invaded any realm."
"Screw the consequences." Ambrosis sniffed. "I can handle anything
that comes our way."
Rolf finished his ale. "Maybe."
"What say you then?" Ambrosis pressed. "You said yourself that you
didn't want to spend the rest of your life sniffing a deer's ass."
"Alright."
They both looked at Kieron. "This is a mistake."
They managed to reach the border undetected after a week of travel.
Dense swamps and dead trees marked the journey, with the far mountain ranges in
the distance dividing the border between the Empire and the Realms. The sun
raced across the sky as the mountains grew. The line that delineated between
the Empire and the Realms became more distinct with each step, the lush, healthy
forest that was nestled against the mountains versus the sickly foliage of the
swamp behind them. Night soon fell. It was quiet, dark, with no moon to
illuminate their path. Kieron held up his thief's lantern to check the map they
were given. Rolf knelt down amongst the foliage with his bow as Ambrosis simply
stood on the path.
"This is a bad idea." Kieron whispered.
"You worry to much." Ambrosis snapped
"And you worry to little!"
"Are we at the border or not?"
"We are."
Ambrosis strode forward. "Then lets go."
Kieron looked at Rolf, who shrugged then followed. He whispered a
silent prayer, then hesitantly followed. Crossing the border felt wrong. Every
fiber of his being screamed out against it, but his associates had voted to do
this, and as the odd man out in this micro-democracy, he had to go along with
it. After all, he gave his word to his friends, and he has never broken it.
According to the map, the tomb was two leagues from their present position,
carved out of the mountain itself.
The tomb loomed before them in the mists. The Lord who hired them told
them that the tomb was thousands of years old, and contained the artifact that
he needed. Just from observation the tomb in question didn't look that old.
Kieron took the lead, checking the door for traps then focused on the lock. The
door wasn't locked. In fact, it seemed well oiled and made no sound as he
opened it. He signaled the others to wait as he stared pasted the threshold.
He stepped into the darkness slowly, letting his eyes adjust. The passage led
down, into the cool darkness of the tomb. There were no side passages as he
penetrated the tomb, no marks or signs of traps or alarms. At the far end of
the passage was an arch that led to the goal of the mission. It was a simple
room, unadorned with any of the trapping and finery attributed to such an
ancient structure. It even lacked the dust and smell of ages. Something was
very wrong.
He stepped into the tomb, moving lightly, until he reached the place
where the artifact was kept. He worked quickly and quietly, until he managed to
open the tomb. There was a rod inside, about a meter long, decorated with
mystic runes and symbols. Definitely sorcerous. He held the object in his
hands, his mind awash with the implications. The mere existence of such an
artifact boded ill for females not only of the Empire, but females everywhere.
There were some things in his past that none of his current associate knew
about, things that did help the Empire indirectly. Thoughts that he had once
forgotten and buried returned, memories of the past that weighted heavily on his
heart began to sink their chains in him once again. Not again, he thought to
himself. NEVER again. Without a second thought, he shattered the artifact,
then turned back to flee the tomb. He thought of a hundred excuses to tell his
friends, his mind racing as he reentered the night. He looked around for the
others. There was no one there. He raced down the steps, throwing aside his
lantern aside as he dove into the forest. Branches slapped him as he wove a
zigzag course. In the darkness he saw the border and safety. He never saw the
warriors rise up from the tall grass, only the glint of steel encasing a fist
before he saw a flash of light, then stars, then nothing.
Kieron's jaw ached, and his arms were numb. He tried to open his eyes
but found only blackness. He panicked. His wrists stung as the ropes bit into
them, as the rope around his neck tightened. He relaxed for a moment, and tried
to fumble for one of his knives only to find bare flesh. He heard a woman's
laugh as he soon discovered he was nude.
The blindfold was removed from his eyes and he blinked in the firelight.
He was tied in the center of the Imperial encampment, on display for any of the
women who cared to examine him. Never before had he seen so many different
races together in one camp. Elves mingling with Dwarfs, Haflings dicing with
humans, Gnomes arguing with DragonKin. The apparent leader of the camp was an
Elf, dressed in leather and steel, she gave the impression of one who did not
like males.
"Well sisters." She announced. "Looks like our little plaything is
awake." She grabbed his chin in her gauntleted hand and raised his eyes to
hers. With practiced ease she forced his mouth open, felt his teeth, smelt his
breath, and looked for any signs of disease or decay. She ran practiced hands
over his flanks, checked his legs and feet, and then slapped his ass hard.
"Your 'friends' sold you out." She sneered. "The tracker is already on
his way back to your 'civilization' with a hefty purse. The Sorcerer has been
rewarded for his presumption." She waved to the crucified form of Ambrosis. He
died hard. "You are the true prize of the bunch. It would be amusing to watch
your 'friend' try to spend cursed coin in the Realms."
He hung his head down and digested her words. His eyes looked around
the camp once more, before he slumped in defeat. She laughed harshly.
"What will happen to me?"
She slapped him for speaking, then again for impertinence, but in the
end answered his question. "Why, I am going to ride you back to the capital,
then sell your worthless ass." She grabbed his genitals and squeezed. "If
you're lucky, you might keep these." Then she strode away.
He was released from his bonds, only to have his wrists and ankles
encased in steel and leather cuffs. A heavy collar was locked around his neck,
and he felt leather straps fastened around his shoulders and waist. One of the
warriors was not unsympathetic, as she allowed his to take a drink of water
before strapping the leather bit into his mouth. She leaned forward to lock the
strap and whispered into his ear.
"Don't antagonize the Captain. Just do whatever she tells you."
A funny saddle appeared, and was set onto his upper back. The Captain
appeared, dressed in riding leathers and carrying a heavy quirt. Gracing her
boots were evil looking spurs, sharp and hook pointed. The rest of the warriors
broke down the camp and began to mount up on the horses hidden in a cul de sac,
with the Captain taking the reins to Kieron's bit from a sergeant, then mounted
onto his back. He grunted as she settled her weight onto the saddle. She dug
the spurs in, and Kieron stumbled forward, harsh jerks of the reins guided him
to follow the lead horses, and he followed the best he could, his feet ached as
he crossed the broken ground in bare feet. He was ashamed as the tears came.
He fought them back, trying to find equilibrium and not give his captors the
pleasure of seeing him break.
He was awash with conflicting emotions. On one side, he raged, his
heart full of hate that the cruel twist of fate that brought him to this moment.
On the other side, he accepted it as the natural consequence of his actions. It
fed part of the small need in him that wanted such debasement. He had never
opened opposed the activities and practices of the Realms, particularly those of
the more darker and evil Realms, and he did what he could to alleviate some of
the suffering that such casual indifference generated. He cursed the elf. Her
cruelty seemed just like what he had known in the Realms.
Stopping for the night brought no relief. He wasn't released from his
bonds, just hobbled like a horse with his collar attached to a large tree. He
was fed oats like a horse, but none of the attention and grooming that some of
the warriors gave to their mounts was directed his way. He was mud spattered,
sore, with bloody flanks from the spurs. And he smelled of stale sweat and
horseshit. One of the warriors approached with a bucket of water and splashed
him with it, removing some of the grime, but not helping very much. There was
nothing for him to do but wait. And endure.
The Capital of the Empire was, to say the least, magnificent. Clean and
well ordered, with broad lanes with great trees that sheltered the citizens as
they moved about their business, marble spires reaching into the heavens, vast
buildings with elaborate carvings and scrollwork. He was ridden into the
outskirts of the city at the head of the patrol, the Captain riding high like a
conquering hero. And Kieron felt nothing like the noble steed of the conquering
hero. The patrol stopped at one of the more innocent seeming buildings at the
edge of the Capital, and the Captain dismounted and approached the High Elf
matron that emerged. He heard them speak in the musical elfin language, before
the matron glided forward to examine Kieron. She was extraordinarily beautiful,
like all elves, dressed in loose, sheer fabrics. She did nothing but walk
around him before speaking again with the Captain. He saw a bag of money drop
into the Captain's hand, and then the matron taking his reins and leading him to
the back of the building. As he was always told, appearances can be deceiving.
The High Elf matron was a slaver. She handed Kieron over to a pair of
overseers, who quickly stripped and cleaned him up. A softer leather collar was
locked around his neck, but he was left relatively unrestrained. The entry
parlor of the building was opulent, with many statues of men and women in
various positions encircling the room. The matron lay reclined on a divan,
occasionally accepting a grape from a slave. He stood before the woman who
would decide his fate.
"I know you." She spoke. "You are known to many here." Her eyes were
hooded. "The question is, what to do with you." She stretched out sensuously.
"Despite your...efforts on out behalf, you violated the border. That was
unacceptable. That makes you a slave." She sat up, and made a gesture with her
hand. A slave appeared with a long onyx cigarette holder fitted with a slim
black cigarette. The slave lit it, then disappeared.
"You will stay here for the time being. The advisory council will be
informed of your presence, and your status will be evaluated." She sucked on
the cigarette, then tapped the ash on the head of the nearest slave. She
pointed to the spot at her feet, her eyes never leaving his. He hesitated,
unsure of what was wanted of him; the hardening of her eyes told him that he had
better obey. He crossed the distance to her and knelt, her hand forcing his
eyes down, her hand running through his hair. Her feet were encased in thin
sandals; each toenail painted a deep red.
"There, that wasn't so hard now was it?" She said, and then smiled.
"We are going to have sooo much fun."
He said nothing, but kept his eyes downcast.
"Have you ever been fucked?" She asked. "By a male that is?" She
prodded him with the tip of Her sandal. "You may answer."
"No Lady I have not."
"Perhaps I'll have you and another slave wrestle and fuck for my
pleasure." She sucked on the cigarette. She motioned for Her body slave, who
opened his mouth obediently as She removed the cigarette from its holder and
stabbed it out on his outstretched tongue. The slave took the butt and ate it
obediently. "Take our 'guest' to one of the playrooms." She said to the
guards. "I'll be along soon."
Kieron was led upstairs to a large, spacious room with exposed beams.
Chains hung from the beams at various places, and the room was filled with every
device and implement used to inflict pain. The center of the room was dominated
by a huge wooded cross in the shape of an X. The guards said nothing as the
forced the human over a waist high padded A frame, and strap his wrists and
ankles to the device. One of the guards applied an oily gel to his anus, then
both disappeared. The door clicked ominously behind them. He struggled for a
bit, testing the leather straps, but found no leverage for which to free
himself. Panic began to set in as a cool breeze crossed the room and tickled
the lubricated areas of his ass. He fought the straps until his wrists were
raw, then relaxed. Resistance was futile, he learned, and struggling only
brought discomfort and pain. He fought the tears that threatened to overwhelm
him, and cursed the names of his two 'friends', the noble who sent them on this
foolish quest, and finally himself, for being a damn fool for going along with
it. The door clicked open and the stucco of heels echoed through the room. A
rough hand fondled his ass, before laying a hard slap across it.
"Well well well." The voice spoke. "What do we have here? A virgin ass
attached to a virgin body." The voice laughed. Something rough pressed against
his sphincter, and he gasped loudly as it roughly penetrated. "OH YES!" The
voice cried out. The anal assault continued for a moment, before the object was
withdrawn, leaving him gaping and sore. The heels crossed the room again, and
he heard the clank of chain. The person crossed into his view and grabbed his
hair, pulling his eyes up to meet his tormentors. It was an elf, ebon skinned
in a white leather corset with matching spike heeled hip boots and long gloves.
Around her waist she wore a simple leather belt from which hung a white/silver
loincloth. Her red eyes searched him over before letting his head fall. Behind
her, the Matron stood by, casually fingering a flogger.
"I am Inquisitor Hallia, sent by the Advisory Council to take your
statement before judgment is passed. I will use you any way I see fit. Answer
my questions truthfully, and I may be inclined to be merciful. Lie, and I will
do things to you that you never imagined in your worst nightmares." She pulled
a chair before him and sat down, her legs crossing in a business like manor and
her hands folded sedately above one knee.
"Now, lets begin with something simple, like, your name."
He tried to clear his throat. "Kieron. Kieron of Aquilia, son of Tomas
and Saphra." His voice rasped.
She patted his cheek. "Very good. That wasn't so hard now was it?"
She turned serious. "Now, what was your business for crossing the border?"
"Myself and two companions were asked to seal an artifact from a tomb
just on the other side of the border. The lord who hired us is named Autrik.
We were to be paid our combined weight in gold for the successful retrieval of
the artifact."
She seemed to be studying her nails. "And what was this artifact
supposed to do?"
"Bring down the Empire," Kieron whispered. "But I couldn't do it.
Slavery is wrong, and I didn't want to see what was common in the Realms to
befall the Empire."
"So out of some misguided sense of duty you crossed the border and broke
into the tomb and stole the artifact in question."
"And I shattered it."
"Yes, we know."
He looked confused.
"If there were such an artifact that could 'bring down the empire', do
you think we would be stupid enough to let it sit in a moldy tomb on the
border?" She shook her head. "Men are so easy to fool."
"There is no artifact, is there?" Kieron asked.
Her eyes narrow. "I gave you no leave to ask questions. I question,
you answer. Is that understood?"
"Yes ma'am." I reply.
"Very good. Since you have been honest, I will be generous and
enlighten you." She leaned forward. "There is no artifact. Just a clever
story to fool our neighbors into focusing on something akin to a quick fix.
There is none. We know who you are, and what you have done to aid those less
fortunate. How many slaves did you get to the border? Over three thousand,
wasn't it? They are all living healthy, productive lives here in the Empire,
and many of them have slaves of their own."
"Slavery is wrong." He stated again.
"Is it? There are many kinds of slavery." She pulled off her gloves
and stroked my cheek. "Is not love a form of slavery? Much of what we do is
ritualized, institutionalized. Men are enslaved to protect them, not to harm
them. Yes, there is some pain, but applied correctly, it teaches instead of
abuses. Our Empire has existed peacefully for a thousand years because we put
our men into bondage. You seek what happens on the other side of the mountains
as truth, but we know it to be a false path. The best slaves are those who
willingly accept their slavery, come to love it. Revel in it."
She paused, her lips are inches from his, and he closes his eyes and
opens his mouth slightly to take in and focus on her scent. She breathes
lightly into his mouth, followed by a light trace of her lips over his. He
shivered as Her hands touched his face. She did not kiss him, but kept her face
close to his.
"Tell me what you want." She whispers, her lips brushing his lightly.
"I don't want to be afraid, alone, any more." He replies.
Her lips press against his in a chaste kiss, then she stands. Her hands
rub over his shoulders and skin, and she walks around him, touching, caressing.
He feels her breasts press into his back and her mouth by his ear. "You will
never be alone again."
And then she is gone.
