Innocent Read online

  Eventually Gaidrhed returned, as talkative as ever. Cianna listened half-heartedly, all the while trying to decide what she should do. When he once more demanded that she get down on her knees she obeyed without hesitation, letting him fuck her from behind. Food followed, course bread and a pungent soup, which she heated over a peat fire. Having finished, he produced a bottle of arrack. Once he had become thoroughly drunk he fucked her again, and a last time as they lay together on the pallet, with the scent of goats and the drink strong in Cianna’s nostrils.

  Cianna awoke to the unfamiliar smell and the feel of the coarse hair of Gaidrhed’s skins. For a moment there was confusion, to be replaced by a deep sense of loneliness as full awareness sank in. Gaidrhed was gone, but she could hear movement in the room below. Rolling onto her back, she lay staring at the crude beams above her, their surfaces glistening black with age in the brilliant sunlight.

  Her situation seemed entirely hopeless. She was lost in a strange land, friendless, save for those who wanted to amuse themselves with her body, and without protection. There was still faith in Sulitea, who she knew would expect her to continue as they had planned, alone or not. Yet Gaidrhed seemed unlikely to know any deep secrets, or indeed anything beyond the running of his tiny farmstead, which was all he had spoken of. It was easier to wait, and hope Sulitea and Aeisla came to find her.

  She was still undecided when Gaidrhed’s head appeared in the hatch leading from the lower room. He climbed up, a bucket in his hand, which he held out. Cianna saw that it was half full of goat’s milk, and took a grateful swallow, until he pulled it back.

  ‘There,’ he declared, setting down the bucket, ‘that is the important work done. Now, you may see to my morning erection.’

  As he spoke he had pulled up his smock, exposing a half stiff cock. The garment came off, over his head, and he was nude, save for his boots, which he left on as he climbed aboard the pallet. With a sigh of resignation Cianna spread her thighs.

  ‘Over,’ he demanded, ‘arse up.’

  Cianna gave another, deeper sigh, but rolled onto her front, lifting her bottom for penetration. He mounted her immediately, and began to rub, squirming his cock against her sex lips. In no time he was fully hard, and he popped it inside her, fucking at a steady pace and pawing her bottom. She made herself comfortable, parting her thighs to let him have the best angle and supporting herself on her elbows to let her breasts hang. He took a brief grope, then went back to fondling her bottom.

  ‘A rare treat,’ he grunted, ‘soft and full and fat, breasts and bottom too, if a trifle loose in the cunt.’

  ‘My tuppenny is not loose!’ Cianna protested.

  ‘By what I am used to your are loose,’ he insisted. ‘Now quite, and let me get the scent of you.’

  He moved his hands, spreading her buttocks with his thumbs and drawing in his breath happily. She caught her own scent, rich and female, bringing back the taste and smell of her mistress’ sex to her, and Aeisla’s too. The thought brought a fresh pang of loneliness, and worry, making it impossible to enjoy the fucking. If Gaidrhed noticed he gave no sign, poking merrily away at her hole until at last he gasped, pulled out his cock and sprayed come across her upturned buttocks.

  ‘That I enjoyed,’ he stated, as he climbed from the pallet. ‘You are less tight than a goat, perhaps, but you smell better, look better and you struggle less.’

  ‘A goat!?’ Cianna demanded.

  ‘I am a goatherd, as you know,’ Gaidrhed replied mildly. ‘Now, today we visit the town of Ketawa, and Ikail’s slave market.’

  ‘Slave market?’

  ‘I cannot afford to keep you,’ he answered with a shrug. ‘Certainly I would like to, but with the money you will fetch I might buy perhaps three or even four fine longhair goats, or a billy of good pedigree.’

  ‘You plan to sell me? To make me a slave!’

  ‘Of course. What else would you be?’

  ‘Why must I be a slave? What right have you!?’

  Gaidrhed merely laughed. Cianna clutched for her necklace, feeling her anger rise. The teeth in her grip seemed to twitch, yet beyond him she could see out of a window, the empty land of green grass and grey rock, a strange, hostile land, a land where there seemed to be no difference in men’s attitude to women and to beasts. For a moment her anger warred with her fear and loneliness, only to die in the certain knowledge that she had little choice but to be compliant.

  ‘Keep me here and I will provide you with every comfort,’ she said. ‘You may use my body as you wish, while I have some skill in the husbanding of animals, in other matters too. Only say that I am not a slave.’

  ‘I am tempted,’ he admitted, ‘but as I say, I cannot afford to keep you. Besides, when the taxers come up from Kea they would take you anyway, as too fine for a mere goatherd. Best to sell you now.’

  ‘And if I run?’

  ‘Where to? I am amazed you came this far from the sea without capture. True, you might live wild, raiding for what food you need, if you have such skills. Why trouble? There are the goblins, trolls also, beasts aplenty. Better surely to live as the pet of some wealthy merchant or noble, pampering yourself all day and fucked regularly at night. Would that I had such an easy lot.’

  Cianna made to answer, but stopped, remembering Aeisla’s words on the state of slavery. In her mind she would still be free, and when Sulitea came for her she would be free in practise as well. Sulitea would come, she had no doubt, and Gaidrhed was right. It was better to wait in comfort than not, while if she was to be fucked regularly, better by some wealthy man of status than a minor who barely preferred her over his goats, let alone by goblins.

  ‘I will come,’ she said reluctantly.

  ‘A wise choice,’ he replied, ‘and an attitude which will save you much pain. You are a strange one, unlike any woman I have ever known. Here in Makea, the women are wise, accepting their status as the lesser sex. Are the men feeble then, in your land?’

  ‘No,’ Cianna answered, ‘but we have more pride, men and women both. Nor do we fuck goats.’

  ‘No? More strangeness! Now come, we must leave if we are to reach Ketawa before the best of the livestock is sold.’

  He returned to the lower level, preparing the horse as she dressed herself in a wrap of dirty cloth, all that she could find. She was feeling confused and praying that Sulitea would come for her before too long. When she was ready she climbed down, to find Gaidrhed with the horse saddled. As before, she climbed on behind him, and they set off, following the narrow stream that ran down from the heights.

  For hours they rode, through grassland set with rocks and straggling trees, passing the occasional longhouse of a design similar to Gaidrhed’s, and once the ruins of a keep. At noon they paused for lunch, and sex, Gaidrhed making Cianna kneel in the lee of a rock to mount her from behind, once more comparing the feeling of her tuppenny to that of a nanny goat’s.

  Shortly afterwards, the track dropped into the head of a larger valley, in which the landscape changed abruptly, lush leaved trees and dense shrubs replacing the grass and rock. There were more buildings as well, clusters of longhouses and others, some of two or even three stories. These became more frequent as they descended the valley, until both sides of what was now a broad road where lined with houses and she realised they had come to the town. At an open square Gaidrhed tethered the horse, continuing on foot. The street became narrower, the air closer and hotter, leaving Cianna uncomfortable, her skin prickling with sweat.

  Despite her feelings it was impossible not to be fascinated. Before they had walked a hundred paces they passed more goods than would be seen in her village in a lifetime, both mundane and beyond her comprehension. Great open pots held grain and dried beans, while vegetables and fruit hung in clumps from hooks or lay in trays. Other shops sold meat and fish, or pottery and ironware, also glass and silver finer than any she had seen. One held books, to an astonishing number, another brightly painted mannequins which she guessed to be children’s toy
s, a third harness and riding gear, a fourth strange metal machines.

  There were people too, hundreds of them, thronging the streets. Most had the same grey-black skin as Gaidrhed, these in gay clothing, wraps of brilliantly coloured cloth, gold and green and scarlet, with elaborate patterns of blue and black and brown, worn loose by the men, belted at the waist by the women. Others, with skin tanned or a rich dark brown, were clearly slaves, of both sexes. The men were in loin cloths, the women stark naked, most with either a tattoo at the centre of their chests or with a slim metal collar around their necks. Not that they seemed cowed, or even especially servile, often talking together or pausing to admire the displays in the windows of the shops. Cianna looked on in shock, amazed by how anybody could accept so degrading a status, and at how the women could tolerate nudity with no show of shame.

  Gaidrhed walked on, apparently oblivious to the sights and sounds around him, save to occasionally turn his head for a second glance at a particularly fine bottom or pair of breasts. Cianna watched everything, so awe-struck that her own situation was driven from her mind until they reached a tall gate, beside which a green robed clerk sat at a table, writing figures in a ledger.

  ‘Ikail’s market,’ Gaidrhed announced, then rapped on the clerk’s table.

  ‘Yes?’ the clerk answered, looking up with obvious disdain. ‘You wish to buy, here?’

  ‘I wish to sell,’ Gaidrhed announced.

  ‘You are in the wrong place,’ the clerk said, glancing at Cianna. ‘You want the beast market, a street further and some four hundred paces east. Here we buy only human slaves.’

  ‘She is human,’ Gaidrhed stated, ‘despite her strange colouring. Or as least so she assures me.’

  ‘She is?’ the clerk queried.

  ‘I am,’ Cianna said.

  ‘Are you certain?’ the clerk insisted, peering up at her. ‘She looks more like some sort of hybrid. Red Ape and nymph perhaps.’

  ‘I am human,’ Cianna answered him, ‘also my mother, father and their ancestors before them.’

  ‘You see,’ Gaidrhed said. ‘Human, and with the pride and spirit of a man. She should fetch a good price.’

  ‘Hmm, maybe,’ the clerk said doubtfully. ‘There is not much call for exotics these days. Still, if she is yours to sell?’

  ‘She is free of tattoos and no others claim her. She says her ship was wrecked on the northern coast, and I caught her wandering the heights.’

  The clerk grunted and jerked his thumb to the gate, immediately returning his attention to his work. Gaidrhed pushed through, drawing Cianna behind him, into an empty yard, dry and dusty in the hot sun. Across it was a building, into which they stepped, finding another clerk seated within. Beyond, a high door stood a fraction ajar, and Cianna peered within as Gaidrhed spoke to the clerk. The room was brightly lit, and she could see girls within, dark skinned beauties, stark naked, many with collars around their necks. She found herself swallowing and took hold of her necklace, less certain than ever.

  ‘Well girl,’ the clerk addressed her suddenly, ‘let us assess your worth. Strip.’

  Cianna hesitated, angry at the tone of the clerk’s voice but mindful of Sulitea’s instructions to be meek and compliant.

  ‘Strip,’ he repeated, making a mark on the piece of charta in front of him. ‘Hmm, obedience poor, and not instinctive.’

  Gaidrhed pulled irritably at Cianna’s wrap, jerking it off her body. She barred her teeth at him, briefly, but held herself, shyly covering her sex and breasts.

  ‘Coy also,’ the clerk said, ‘not good, not good. Place you hands on your head, girl, and turn slowly around.’

  Again Cianna hesitated, but obeyed, her face and chest flushing as she displayed herself.

  ‘Bizarre,’ the clerk said. ‘never have I seen hair of such a peculiar colour, like copper, and on her cunt too. Are you dyed, girl?’

  ‘Dyed?’ Cianna queried.

  ‘Is that your natural hair colour?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘What else might it be?’

  For a moment the clerk looked at her, then laughed.

  ‘A mere savage,’ he said. ‘Where is your homeland, girl?’

  ‘Aegmund, north of here,’ she answered.

  ‘Never heard of it,’ he said. ‘No matter. You seem healthy, and agile, with plenty of muscle to your legs and buttocks. A trifle slim hipped, perhaps, but with good sized breasts, and firm by the look of things. Bend forward.’

  Cianna obeyed, letting her breasts swing beneath her. The clerk reached out, taking a handful and squeezing gently, then flicking one nipple with a finger. It popped out, Cianna once more baring her teeth, which the clerk failed to notice.

  ‘A good sexual response,’ he said. ‘Do you juice well?’

  ‘My… my tuppenny? Does my tuppenny make juice well?’ Cianna demanded in shock.

  ‘Does you cunt juice easily, yes?’

  ‘Well enough.’

  ‘Turn, bend.’

  With her shame and anger rising quickly, Cianna turned and put her hands on her knees with her feet well apart, sticking out her bottom. The clerk’s finger touched her skin, tracing a line down across one buttock to her sex, then poking at the hole and tickling with his fingernail.

  ‘No virgin, I see,’ he said.

  ‘I am low-born,’ Cianna answered with a sob

  ‘I didn’t ask for your status. Are you a virgin?’

  ‘I am low-born, I may fuck as I please.’

  ‘I’ll put no then. You have a weird one here. She juices well, yes, but she will not fetch much, I fear. Too strange.’

  He had continued to tickle Cianna’s sex as he spoke, and for all her shame she could feel herself responding, growing warm and open. Suddenly the finger went higher, tickling her bottom ring, and she squeaked in surprise and shock, jumping up.

  ‘An anal virgin?’ the clerk demanded. ‘Do the boys not use girls’ bottom holes where you come from?’

  ‘No!’ Cianna responded angrily, lying.

  ‘Now there we might have a selling point,’ he said. ‘A bottom like that, and unpopped! It looks tight too.’

  Cianna said nothing, blushing furiously and thinking of the banana and other things that had been pushed into her bottom ring.

  ‘So,’ the clerk said, once again addressing Gaidrhed, ‘I can offer you twelve standard now, or you may take a risk and have half of whatever she fetches when she is sold.’

  ‘Twelve standard?’ Gaidrhed replied. ‘Surely not? Look at her. Have you ever seen a girl so tall? Or of such strange colouring? She is unique!’

  ‘She is strange,’ the clerk answered, ‘also surly, slow to obey and somewhat savage. Twelve standard, unless you would rather take ten. Or as I say, you can return for the half. Who knows, Jelkrael the Impresario has been bargaining for a new fighting girl. He might take her, for as much as forty standard perhaps, or not. Sometimes a girl goes unsold for a month.’

  Gaidrhed grunted and held out his hand. The clerk gave a knowing chuckle and ducked down beneath his desk. Twelve silver coins were counted out. Gaidrhed took them and left, with hardly a backward glance for Cianna.

  ‘So,’ the clerk said, rising, ‘I will show you to the hall. Our rules are simple. Make no disturbance and do as you are told. Fail once and you go without food for a day, twice and you are on dung duty, thrice and you will be whipped. Do you understand?’

  Cianna nodded, following him as he walked to the door, pushing it open. Beyond was the hall she had glimpsed before, a space twice as long as wide, with a high ceiling and a balcony some twice her height above the floor. A roof of glass panes in an ironwork grid admitted the brilliant sunlight, a feature she stared at in amazement for some while before looking down once more. Broad benches lined much of all four of the walls, with a second door opposite her. In an alcove there was a cluster of buckets, while at the centre a long bench stood in a depressed area. Perhaps three dozen girls crowded the room, with skin in varying shades from the ri
ch brown of old oak, through red-brown and the charcoal of the Makeans to jet black. Many had turned as the door opened, and were watching her, their surprise evident in their expressions. A whisper went through the room, and Cianna gave a nervous smile in response.

  ‘Find a place on the bench,’ the clerk was saying. ‘Potential buyers walk the balcony, there. Drink at the left spigot, wash at the further, evacuate in a pail. This is all you need to know.’

  He left, closing the door behind him. Cianna stood fidgeting with her necklace, uncertain what to do, only to see that she was being approached, by a voluptuous girl with near black skin and twists of silver wire in her nipples, belly button and sex. Their eyes met, and Cianna was surprised to see a look of recognition, only for it to fade.

  ‘You are of Kora, in the north?’ the girl asked

  Cianna nodded.

  ‘I am Babalyn N’Jukolana, of Blue Zoria, in the Aprina States,’ the girl went on.

  ‘You thought you knew me?’ Cianna asked.

  ‘I knew a Koran girl, named Aisla,’ Babalyn responded, ‘with copper hair, like you, but she was taller, and her face more lean.’

  ‘I know your name,’ Cianna responded. ‘My Mistress, Sulitea, met you in the Red Parch desert, with Aeisla too. They are here, somewhere in Makea…’

  She hesitated, wondering if she should have admitted what she had, but Babalyn was smiling, friendly and open, the first person in Makea who had shown any desire other than simple carnality.

  ‘They are slaves too?’ Babalyn was demanding. ‘They were taken, in Cypraea?’

  ‘No,’ Cianna answered, hesitantly, ‘that is… there was a shipwreck. On the northern coast.’

  ‘And you were taken! Are not these Makeans unspeakable? Helpless girls cast up on their coast, and what do they do? They take you as slaves! Never in Aprinia would be behave with such barbarism! It was the same with me, although we were not wrecked. I was on a ship of my father’s, trading into Rojome, when we were becalmed. A Makean warship came up with us. We were outgunned, and could do nothing, for all their primitive cannonry. We were taken, all of us, and made slaves. Can you believe it?’