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Post by ivory on Jul 21, 2009 14:56:50 GMT -5
"We have killed a great many people. Such is life, especially for the inferior people."
"My father-" she began, but cut herself off as he resumed talking and settled for a hard glare.
"Though you are a bit scrawny, you are not an ugly woman. Perhaps haram life would suit you. It would definately be a much better use of life than revenge." he grinned at her. "My women live in the lap of luxery, all 67 of them."
Her glare turned into disgust. "I wonder why they have not already killed you. For I certainly would have." She was taking a risk, but doubted he'd believe her if she acted otherwise. After all, she couldn't just change character half-way through and expect to get away with it.
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 22, 2009 10:27:00 GMT -5
"I wonder why they have not already killed you. For I certainly would have."
Abdulah laughed, "They are women." He said matter-of-factly, as if they said it all, that women were not capable of killing him. "They do as they are told. Just as you will."
He sat back down across from her and took a drink from his goblet and poured her another cup of water, seemingly unconcerned about her threat.
"Now, what were you saying about your father?"
He wasn't sure why, but he found this woman amusing and that intrigued him. Rarely did he converse with any women. They were inferior and as far as he was concerned were needed only to perform certain, specific tasks and pleasures. He simply didn't care what they thought or felt or what their needs or desires were. They were here to serve men, himself in particular and if they were not good at that, then they simply did not need to exist.
So why was he sitting here talking to a foreign woman, caught spying on his camp who was clearly here to cause him trouble? He couldn't answer that question. All he could do was talk to her to find out why she seemed to hold his attention.
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Post by ivory on Jul 22, 2009 10:48:18 GMT -5
”They are women. They do as they are told. Just as you will.”
Teresa snorted, but her glare was lost as she watched him pour her another cup of water. She swallowed and thought to ignore the temptation, then decided he’d probably just be amused, and reached for the cup. She let it slide slowly down her throat this time, savoring the cool feel of it against her scorched throat.
"Now, what were you saying about your father?"
Her body tensed, her eyes narrowed. Even after all these years, she didn’t talk about it, not even to Galen. She doubted that if he knew her true reason for taking this mission, he wouldn’t have permitted her to go, so she hadn’t told him.
“I’ve said all I’m going to say about him,” she spat the words out in pure hatred, almost a growl. Her hands were clenched into fists as she fought the images from her mind. She couldn’t dare to remember, not now. She clenched her jaw, refusing to give her head a shake in an attempt to block out the screams, the smell of blood, the-No!
She quickly downed the rest of her water, taking the time to squeeze her eyes shut as she regained control. As the last drop slipped from the cup to her lips, she’d gotten it back under reign, and in a feeble attempt to hide her insecurities, she thrust the cup at him, silently demanding more.
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 26, 2009 21:54:14 GMT -5
Abdulah watched the girl closely as she seemed to have some internal war with herself. Apparently there was a bit more under the surface of this woman and that intrigued him. Her continueing defiance was a welcome change. Not only did the women around him follow his orders meekly, so did most of the men under his command. Only a very, very select few had the courage to stand up for themselves around him. He found himself looking forward to taming this wildcat.
She thrust the empty glass at him and instead of filling it with water, he poured it half full of the liquer from his own bottle, holding in an amused smile.
"So, if you will not talk about your father then perhaps you can tell me what is your mission here is and who sent you? I know those pathetic Gallican's wouldn't send out a woman to spy on me. So who are you working for?"
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 26, 2009 22:10:55 GMT -5
Before the woman had a chance to answer, Abdulah's Second entered the tent and bowed. Abdulah looked up at him in irritation, but nodded for him to proceed. Afterall, if it wasn't important the man wouldn't have interupted him.
"We have confirmation sir. The Araluens have landed with a bunch of Scotti in Skandian wolf ships. It seems that they are preparing to join up with the Gallican army, but we are not sure where just yet. Several of the Araluen's have broken up into small units and are moving rapidly inland, heading in our direction. We have not been able to determine their purpose as yet."
Abdulah frowned at the news. His army was about to go wandering through a forrest in search of the remnants of the Toscano and Gallican forces that knew the forrest much better than they did. In his heart he knew that was a recipe for disaster. He considered for a few minutes, not wanting to reveal his plans in front of the woman. But then he thought, what was he worried about? She was never going to be able to tell anyone anything now. She would die in his haram, either sooner or later, but she would never be free again.
"Break off the search. Get the whole army moving towards the coast, but bypass that forrest. I have a feeling the Gallicans may have left some nasty surprises for us that I would just as soon avoid. I want the army moving double time - including those supply wagons and a guard patrolling both sides of the column."
The second in command nodded and saluted and then exited the tent to carry out his commander's orders. Abdulah turned his attention back to the woman before him, trying to recall her name... "Now, Vanessa, where were we? Oh yes, you were about to tell me who you are working for." He sat back and smiled sweetly at her.
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Post by ivory on Jul 27, 2009 10:04:35 GMT -5
Teresa eyed him warily when he filled her cup with half his own, but lifted it to her lips anyways - seeing it as a half-victory, letting him know that she wouldn't be tamed so easily.
"So, if you will not talk about your father then perhaps you can tell me what is your mission here is and who sent you? I know those pathetic Gallican's wouldn't send out a woman to spy on me. So who are you working for?"
She was thankful for the entrance of a man she assumed to have a high status, giving her time to think. He'd probably believe her if she claimed to be from Araluen, after all, she was pretty sure they allowed women in the army, but would it be wise to say so? If he saw this as an assassination - which he probably did since you know, well, it was - would he strike back just as hard? She judged him as the other man spoke and figured that he probably would. That settled, she wondered if that'd be good or bad for the Family. Easier pickings certainly, but Galen was an 'honest' mercenary and she doubted he'd do so. No one in the Family minded that he was a soft heart, definitely not her considering she was the 'assassin' of the group and knew that soft heart had a definite layer of steal.
After a few more seconds of thought, she decided that she might as well. Besides, it looked to be her only choice. She doubted the Skandians or Scottis employed women in their military. Her conclusion came just as the man saluted and left and Abdilah turned back towards her.
"Now, Vanessa, where were we? Oh yes, you were about to tell me who you are working for."
"Actually," she said and took a slow drink before staring him hard in the eyes. "I believe you merely asked."
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 29, 2009 12:06:46 GMT -5
Abdulah laughed at her again. Shrewd woman. He liked that. "Oh, you are going to be fun!" He chortled. Then he sobered suddenly, as if she had thrown cold water in his face. "You WILL tell me what I want to know. The question is whether it will be under these comfortable conditions, or if you would prefer to do so immersed in pain. The choice is yours."
He stared into her eyes with a very serious look on his face, almost the look of a snake assessing its prey before it strikes, not moving a muscle, just staring and waiting...
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Post by ivory on Jul 29, 2009 12:17:17 GMT -5
"Torturing me," she said just as calmly, "Will get you only what you want to hear. A tricky technique torturing. You have to be able to read the character right." She leaned foward, crossing her arms on the table. Her voice dropped to a sensual whisper. "Do you think you know me that well? To know what each moan means? To know if I'm saying stop or carry on?" A slow smile curved the edge of her lips and her eyes held a mixture of amusement and mischief. "You'd have to get close for that." She gave a slow shake of her head as she leaned back. "No one gets that close." She raised her cup to her lips. "So...want to try a different method? Or are you still willing to chance breaking me and getting nothing pleasurable?"
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 29, 2009 12:35:54 GMT -5
Abdulah grinned at her. "I suppose that is one method of torture. But there are many ways to get answers." He stood up abruptly and motioned the two guards over.
"Right now I have some other business to attend to. Since you appear to have enjoyed your sunbathing, I believe I shall return you to it." He turned to the guards. "Strip her down to next to nothing and stake her out in one of the wagons without a cover on it. Then bring me back everything she is carrying, including what you already took off her."
He turned back to Vanessa, "I would prefer your accomodations to be a soft, comfortable bed of hot sand, but since I must be moving my men now, and we are in this cursed wet land, I don't have that luxery, so the wagon will have to do for now." He sneered at her. "I am sure you will enjoy it."
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Post by ivory on Jul 30, 2009 12:55:28 GMT -5
Teresa flashed him her brightest smile. "I'm sure I will."
She shrugged off the guards who reached for her and removed the outermost layers of her clothing herself. She even handed them the few knives they missed from the previous search, though she kept the small leaf hidden beneath one of her undergarments. If she believed the pain to be too much, she'd simply chew on it. A few seconds the pain wouldn't exist...along with anything else her senses might be able to pick up. She doubted she'd have to use it if he kept to only the use of heat as a torture method. Heavens knew she'd gone through worse.
Head held high, she marched between the two guards, going to her new quarters without a word. Too bad he didn't just tie her up outside...but then again, walls had their uses...sometimes. She doubted this would be one of those times that they did.
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Post by Brandwyn on Aug 9, 2009 14:01:24 GMT -5
The following day, as the Aslavian army was making it's slow way across Gallica, Abulah rode up to the wagon containing Vanessa and looked down on her from the back of his horse. He had studied the items she had left in his tent and now carried them in a pack on his saddle. She had been carrying quite a few weapons, none of them standard issue for a Gallican soldier, even had she not been a female. She was definately a spy, but the question was, for whom?
He pulled out his waterskin and took a long drink from it in front of her and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm and looped the water skin back over it's hook hanging from the far side of his saddle.
The sun was high in the sky and beating down on the wooden wagon, heating up the metal bands that held the wagon bed together. The wagon bounced and jolted over the uneven ground, often becoming snagged and the slaves walking around it had to constantly push and pry on it to keep it moving.
Abdulah had made sure that Vanessa was tied hands and feet, spread eagled on her back in the bed of the wagon. Some of the goods had been pushed to the very front of the wagon, behind the driver's seat, but most of them had been moved to a different wagon. The driver carried a bull whip with two sharp, thin blades tied into the tip of the leather strips at the end of the whip. He never used it on the horses, though, just occasionally cracking it over their heads. Every so often he flicked the tip of the whip so it made contact with some part of Vanessa, just enough to leave a scratch. He controlled the whip expertly. Abdulah noticed about a dozen small cuts on her legs and torso. They would not leave scars, no even cause her enough blood loss to be of concern, but they would likely fester and sting in the heat, left untreated and become infected, being more of a nusiance than anything else.
"Enjoying your accomodations, my dear?" Abdulah asked her, chuckling.
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Post by ivory on Aug 9, 2009 15:54:19 GMT -5
Vanessa unwilling wetted her lips as her eyes locked on the canteen of water. Her throat had long ago began to parch and her lips were cracked from the heat. She flexed her muscles once, twice, in an attempt to get the feeling back in them. If it had been a smooth ride, she wouldn't have minded much, but being tied down, unable to shift with the bouncing, was torture. Not the worse, but irritaing enough. As were the whip and inability to shift through the small supplies beneath the driver's seat to see if she couldn't find something of use. There probably wouldn't be, but she hated the fact that they were there and she couldn't check them out.
"Enjoying your accomodations, my dear?"
She wetted her lips again, swallowed, and hoarsely replied, "The whip's not hitting hard enough; can hardly feel it, but the ride's comfortable enough."
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Post by Brandwyn on Aug 18, 2009 9:55:02 GMT -5
Abdulah laughed, again admiring her spirit. It would be such a shame if he had to kill her. He reached down and ran a finger along her jaw line. "Dont' worry, my wildcat, the day is young and full of surprises." He laughed as he sat up and dug his heels into his horse to ride away.
"Not her face!" he said to the wagon driver as he rode off.
The wagoneer looked back over his shoulder at her and grinned in anticipation. He never said a word, though the following whip strikes bit her flesh a bit deeper. He was very careful to avoid whipping her face and he steered the wagon into every pothole and over every bump he could find, jouncing around on the wagon seat himself, grinning nearly the whole time under his wide brimmed, pointed straw hat (OOC: picture hat of Vietnamiese working in rice paddys).
The day wore on slowly and Abdulah came back just before dusk. He ordered her cut loose from the wagon and had her staked to the ground on her knees with her arms out to the side and behind her. In that posistion she could not lay down without dislocating her shoulder.
"There is the comfort of a soft bed, cool water and chilled fruit waiting for you." Abdulah told her. "All you have to do is tell me who you are really working for and why you are really here." He stood over her with his hands on his hips and his legs shoulder width apart in his riding boots with curling pointed toes, puffy pantaloons and a deep purple vest adorned with hundreds of tiny precious gems that sparkled with the light of the setting sun.
He held out the crystal glass that was beading up with condensation from the cold water inside it. The glass was out of her reach, even had she not been tied up. He waved it in front of her face, waiting for an answer.
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Post by ivory on Aug 18, 2009 10:29:14 GMT -5
When his finger touched her jaw, she would've spat at him had she had any spit to waste. Pity she didn't. She gritted her teeth as the whip struck the bare parts of her body, cutting slightly deeper than last time. She uttered not a cry, moan, or groan, having learned that such things never did anything but pleasure her enemy. She turned her head to the left as the wagon hit another pothole and her jaw clenched as her body shook with the force. Her shoulders were numb from their position so she flexed her hands in an attempt to get the blood circulating again.
Another pothole, but instead of focusing on how uncomfortable it was, she instead sent up a prayer, hoping that something useful came rolling toward her from beneath the driver's seat. No such luck. The day wore on with nothing but discomfort.
Around dusk, she was tied to a stake in an even more uncomfortable position. She feared that the constant pressure on her knees would make her unable to move should she find an opening to free herself - after of course, she killed Abdilah.
"There is the comfort of a soft bed, cool water and chilled fruit waiting for you. All you have to do is tell me who you are really working for and why you are really here."
Her eyes stayed unwillingly fixed to the glass of water, but she wasn't broken yet. Far from it.
"And then what?" she asked, her words barely understood for the dryness of her throat. "You let me go? Come on, aren't we far enough in our relationship that we don't have to lie to each other?" It was harder than she thought, but she managed to tear her eyes from the beads of water and fix them on his face, mocking him.
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Post by Brandwyn on Aug 18, 2009 10:34:11 GMT -5
"Of course not." Abdulah grinned. "Then you join my harem and live in the lap of luxery for the rest of your life, your every whim attended to - within limits of course- and pampered with not a care in the world. All your worries gone. Your only task will be to make me happy." He leered at her, knowing she was the type of woman who would find that life a nightmare.
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