decency to be war-weary after just a couple of failed tries taking Pels.
This had the hallmarks of a very well thought out plan and she did not think the old man was lying when he talked of others being involved. Marigoth might really be in danger.
She must get out of here, and do something. With the witch manacles around her neck she couldn’t change into the Raven and fly away from the ship, but now they were still and possibly in some kind of port… For thirty days she had been working at the staple that affixed the chains to the rotten wall. Today she had finally pulled it out. Now sitting with it carefully behind her, she waited for the one of the guards to come with food. The grey light of the hold was darkening. The guard would be here soon and he would open the door to take out the slops bucket. Even weakened by the bread and water diet, she should be able to overpower the fellow. Then they would see what sort of a bait she was.
She tensed as footsteps came towards her. But they were the footsteps of someone new, not the old man or the guard. They moved confidently as if they were meant to be there. Was she going to meet her ultimate captor this time?
Yani pushed the staple back into the wall and tried to look helpless.
A mage light flared at the window. Though the glare Yani could make out the shape of a face with a shroud of hair on either side of it.
“Hmm,” said a woman’s voice.
“What are you doing here, bitch?” cried someone. Yani thought it was the old man.
The head was gone from the window.
“I came to see my brother’s prize,” cooed a voice. Definitely a woman’s voice. “It’s not much, is it? I’m starting to wonder if I even want it.”
“Your brother’s prize?” snarled the old man. “I’ll have you know this is my...”
The woman laughed and then with a roar, magical fire flowered, filling the hold with blinding light, screams of agony and the smell of burning flesh.
Heavy blackness was fading to grey. Danger! whispered the Raven.
Yani fought the urge to open her eyes as reality seeped slowly, reluctantly back to her. That woman. Danger!
She’d been unconscious and now she was somewhere new, propped up in a corner against some kind of wall that rocked back and forth. She could hear horses ahead. She must be in some kind of cart. Her hands and feet were unbound, but cold iron still chilled her wrists and neck. Damn.
She slid her eyes open just a crack. A woman was sitting opposite her looking away out the window. Dark hair laced with gold thread. Was this the woman from the ship?
Through half open eyelids, Yani examined her surroundings looking for an advantage. This was some kind of enclosed cart with a canvas covering like a tent stretched above them. Two benches covered in gold brocade were fixed to either side of it and luxurious red and gold cushions were strewn everywhere. It was full daylight outside. How long had she been unconscious?
She took another look at the mage. She was dressed as richly as a queen, her thick black cloak thrown back from a golden brocade gown. Long black hair. The face of a beautiful hawk. Blood red lips that couldn’t be natural.
The mage turned suddenly to look at Yani. She feigned unconsciousness again.
“You can stop pretending. I know you are awake,” said the mage.
Yani kept her eyes closed and forced her face to relax. Best to stay as she was - wakefulness seemed certain to bring unpleasantness.
But unpleasantness was determined to come to her. The woman’s dress rustled and she felt her sit down beside her. She pulled open Yani’s bodice.
“Hmm. What nice breasts. My men will be pleased. Still pretending to be asleep, are you?”
Caressing hands slide into Yani’s bodice and ran over her breasts. She forced herself not to cringe from the touch. What was the creature at? Suddenly the mage pinched her hard on the nipple, digging her fingernails in and twisting. Despite herself Yani winced and pulled away.
“I’m awake,” she said.
The woman smiled smugly.
“Now you’re being a good girl.”
“Who are you?” said Yani coolly.
“My name is Daria Symina,” said the woman. “If you were from round here, you’d be afraid.”
“What do you want with me?”
“That’s for me to know and you to worry about,” smiled Daria. “One is subject to whims and when one is as powerful as I, one can do what one likes. Perhaps I was curious to see one of the Archipelagan folk. Perhaps I just want to have some fun.” She stroked Yani’s thigh. “Perhaps I thought my men would like a change of diet.”
Intimidation always made Yani combative. She returned Daria gaze calmly.
“I did not think Mirayans allowed women to be mages. I thought they killed you all at birth.”
“Sometimes the great families marry us so that they can breed mages from us, but mostly they just send us to nunneries,” said the woman conversationally. “We are taught healing and other white-souled lily-livery. Pah! Such would I have been if my brother had not killed our parents.”
“Nice brother,” said Yani.
“My brother, Malov Symina, is the most feared man in Miraya and he sent for you. Do not try that brave face on me. Fear should be gnawing at your vitals. Unless you are a great fool.”
“And why has your brother brought me all this way?”
“Why indeed?” said Daria mockingly. “Think of pain, my dear little slave. Think of torture, rape and despair.”
To hell with the woman! Yani wasn’t going to be scared.
“You’re death mages, aren’t you?” sneered Yani. “Those sad creatures who can only achieve power by prostituting themselves to demons.”
“Ooh hoo!” cried Daria. “Aren’t we cheeky?” She seized Yani’s hair and pulled her face close to her.
“I’ll teach you manners.”
Her long sharp nails came out and raked Yani’s cheek, menacing her eyes. Yani lashed out and pushed her off. Daria hissed. There was a sudden flash of magic and Yani felt as if every bone in her body had been jolted out of its socket. She cried out despite herself and suddenly Daria was on top of her jolting her with that magic again and again until every joint was burning.
“Do you still doubt my power?” shouted Daria.
“Stop it, you bitch,” cried Yani, trying to grit her chattering teeth.
Daria laughed, but the jolts of magic stopped. Through her pain, Yani could hear the mage panting heavily. She was astride Yani and her face was so close that Yani could feel her hot breath on her cheek.
“You’re so brave, aren’t you? I wonder if you will be so brave when my men shove their hard dicks into your soft little cunt,” she hissed into Yani’s ear.
She rolled the words sensually over her tongue and her body arched and moved with pleasure as she spoke. Then suddenly her weight was gone. She was over the other side of carriage, breathing hard, struggling with some strong feeling.
Daria wants you, whispered the Raven in her head.
The death mage pulled open a small chest that was bolted to the wall of the carriage, and snatching out a little bag, sniffed two pinches of a white powder up her nose.
Yani’s joints were burning too much for her to worry about Daria for the moment. How easily she had cried out! Humiliated, she turned her face to the brocade. It smelt of dust and sweat.
“Now you see who is mistress here, girl!” panted Daria “You will treat