Hey, Everyone,
This chapter is also COMPLETELY different! I didn't include most of the old draft....
I am doing a research paper for my literature class here. The research includes cultural practices from ancient Egypt through Rome, all the way to today. Really interesting, but it really is revealing to me to brutality of the Ancient cultures of Rome, Greece, and Egypt...
I hope you all like the new changes!
~JDB
* * * *
"And they taste good too.” Warick’s voice was husky as he whispered hot breath in her face. He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her. The kiss was by no means tender, but rough, crude, and full of a deep lustful, wanting.
Nayeli was appalled at the man’s behavior. Though she did not return any feelings, she held on to him, Hermun’s threat to harm Neorah always present in the back of her mind. She would not subject Neorah to the kind of life she had known.
When he withdrew, Nayeli let her poise return and placidity return to her face. No matter how angry she was at this act of uncensored lust and prehistoric expression of longing, Nayeli would not show the anger that roiled inside of her.
“See…” Warick said, smugly,” playing with toys is fun.”
“Even if they are of not the same mindset?” Nayeli was testing the waters with that remark, but she dared to show her anger with the cunning of a fox.
“I’ve experienced that one toy is never enough, Nayeli,” her eyes shot up to meet his when she heard her name, “I have another toy. It is not quite as perfect as you, my dear. However, push me and I will be tempted to give this toy to my brother. He gets jealous when I keep the best for myself.” Warick tested Nayeli’s hair between his fingers and stepped behind her. His arms were even bigger than Hermun’s. Warick wound them around her waist and whispered huskily, “Walk.”
Nayeli did as she was commanded and stepped forward out of his beastly grasp. When Warick again stepped forward and entangled her again they were about fifteen yards away from the wagon circle. He whispered, “This will do just fine. Stop here.” She did as she was commanded. “Alan, you can come out now.”
* * * *
Neorah was in line. Warick, the man responsible for the death of her family, and his despicable brother Hermun were transcribing the names of all the captives on a piece of parchment on a makeshift table of rope, large sticks from around them on the forest floor, and a flat piece of wood that looked to have been made and brought for this very purpose. Nayeli was behind her in the very back of the line. Why do I feel like we were placed in this line in this exact order for a reason? She shuddered mentally, God, protect me, please.
“Name.” Warick declared as she approached the table. If I just don’t make them angry, they will be lenient.
“Neorah, my lord.”
Warick’s eyes met hers, “Alan, this is she that you spoke of? The whom the other girl was with in the wagon?”
“This is she, Warick, I’m sure of it.”
“Take her aside. You may not remove her clothing or tarnish it in any way: that is all that there is for her to wear. If as I suspect, the other girl will give us trouble. You already know the plan.” The wild glint in Warick’s eyes gave Neorah a sick feeling. God, protect me! She pleaded silently.
Alan’s hands were an iron grip, “Now, you be a good girl and come with me and don’t fuss.”
Neorah walked with him without complaint. As soon as they were several yards away from the wagon circle, Ryan, the other man that had taken Nayeli with Warick the day before appeared from behind a thicket. Alan pushed her toward him, and she whirled around to face him.
Alan nodded with an upward motion of his jaw. At the cue, Ryan charged forward and encapsulated her arms behind her back. Ryan walked her backward through the thicket. She stumbled as her feet caught got twisted in a fallen branch. Ryan let her retain her balance, then continued. With every step she took, Alan took a lazy, menacing step toward her: triumph and desire etched across his every feature.
“Now don’t you struggle, be a good girl and this will be easy.” He tied her hands around a tree so Neorah’s back was to it.
When he finished, Alan stalked forward, “I may not be able to remove your clothes or foul them in any way, but I was given a job, and I will follow through with that—dutifully.” Alan put his hand over his chest in feigned empathy.
Neorah retained her silence.
“For having such a chatty friend, this one is rather silent.”
Alan leered at this, “Do you know what my job is?”
Neorah said nothing.
“I expect an answer this time. What do you…suppose my job is, girl?”
“First off, sir,” Neorah spoke, “I have a name.”
“Oh, and what might that be?”
“Neorah.”
“Jewish?”
“No, sir. Christian.”
Alan spit with disdain, “You are one of those occultist, fools, who follow the words of a dead man; the ones who are tearing this world apart!”
Neorah did not speak, but merely let her eyes lock with Alan’s and set her jaw.
“That may be, but you never answered my question, Neorah.” He spat her name as though it set a bad taste in his mouth.
“That, sir, I do not know.” Neorah kept her voice soft and eyes averted as she spoke.
“It is my job to see if you are unsoiled or not. If you are not, I may do as I please. However, if you are, I am only permitted…limited expressions.”
God! No! Protect my maidenhead. I beseech you, Lord! Neorah’s frantic prayer went silently to the feet of God.
Alan was in front of her when Neorah regained her awareness. His hands were placed on either side of her waist, leaning in on the tree whose bark dug unforgivingly in to her back. “You may be quiet now, but I can make you scream, and you will enjoy it.”
Fear encapsulated every part of Neorah’s awareness, but she maintained her poise and repose.
God, use this for your glory.
Alan’s hands began to pull her skirts up. His hand was bear upon her thigh. She merely set her jaw, looked away from Alan’s smirking face toward the ground, and closed her eyes.
“Curses!”
“Alan?” Ryan spoke.
“She retains her maidenhead.”
“What then?”
“I may not be allowed full carnal knowledge of her body, but I will make her feel something she has never felt before.”
“I’ll leave you to it then. Warick will want a report.”
“See it done.”
Neorah could hear the triumphant guile in Alan’s voice as he spoke.
He adjusted himself and grabbed her jaw. She looked straight in to his eyes—his cold, hard eyes. His gaze sent shivers down her spine.
“Let your body move as it wishes, let your voice ring as it feels it must, be pure instinct here and now. You have never experienced this before, may the gods have mercy on your soul. You will not know what to do, but if you do as I just said, you will feel free.”
Neorah pulled her face away from him again, “Pretty words from a kidnapper.”
Instead of a response, his kissed her neck gently. The whispered touch gave her shivers, “Then I shall make this experience one that you will never forget in the best sense.”
His lips met her neck again, but began to move. The way with which he kissed her was not gruff, but like that of a lover. The lust that filled his hands was not demeaning. He had meant what he had said: he wanted her to feel good, to enjoy it. I will not give in. God, protect my heart. I see what he wishes to accomplish.
He moved in against her. She whimpered, barely audibly, as the bark on the tree dug harder against her back. His lips moved to her jawline and his hand captured her cheek. Gently, he turned her to look at him. His eyes were not hard this time. Soft kindness welled in them. His tenderness was unbelievable: just moments before he was hard and crude. Alan’s eyes searched Neorah’s for a few seconds and something inside of her lit: a fire burned hot inside of her and she desired to know more. She felt her eyes fill with kindness and pity as she continued to lock with his gaze.
His lips met hers. Neorah was no longer aware of the events that followed. She was vaguely aware that her hands were freed. She touched his face, wrapped her legs around his waist. Then he reached where his hand was forbidden.
“No.” The word came from her mouth soft, but unyielding, “You have already made me feel more than I ever have.”
“You have already cried out, my dear. Let me hear you scream.” Alan pursued his course with his hand.
“No. I said no.”
“You cannot deny that you wish to know, Neorah.” His eyes held mischievousness.
“No. I do not wish to know, sir. Do you want to know why?”
“Of course.”
Neorah stood away from him and spoke softly.
“Because, at the end of the day, I am still your captive, I am a slave in your crusade. You are neither my husband, nor are you my lover: you are my kidnapper and my captor. And, it is because of your raiding party, sir, that my mother, father, brother, and baby sister are dead.”
He averted his eyes shameful. She cupped his cheek in tenderness and prayed, God, let the words I am about to speak ring as true in my heart as through my mouth. “I watched your spear embed itself in my family, Alan, and,” she positioned his face so she could look in to his eyes, “Alan, while the pain of their loss still rings heavy on my heart, I forgive you and will not hold this against you.”
Shock went across his face. Confusion lit his eyes. Alan’s gently caressed Neorah’s cheek with his thumb. He opened his mouth to speak.
“Alan, you can come out now.” Warick’s voice rang on the other side of the thicket.
Every sign of softness and kindness in his demeanor disappeared in an instant. In a flash, the cruelty returned. The gentle hand on her neck became a vice grip on the back of her neck, the other grabbed her around the waist. She looked up in to wild, cruelty swimming in his eyes.
“Watch the way you speak to me. I need no forgiveness you can give. You are a slave. Your words mean nothing in the grand scheme of the world. You will be mine, in every way. I will have your maidenhead, submissive or not. You will understand me as carnally as I will know you, and you will scream, whether in pain or delight is your choice, but do not make the mistake again of thinking that I care what you think of me or that your words affect me.” He kissed her, but it held none of the tenderness he had before. This one was gruff and forceful. Its meaning was plain an simple: he wished to show her that he was in control with it. He wanted her to be afraid again, and she was.
He whirled her around with one hand on her neck, the other around her hands, and marched her forward, “Warick, she retains her maidenhead still.”
* * * *
Warick beamed as he watched Nayeli’s eyes widened in pure, unadulterated fear as she beheld Neorah being restrained by Alan. He had been waiting for this reaction for the last half hour.
“Hermun.”
His brother took over his position as he stood in front of Nayeli, glowering down in to her eyes.
“Nayeli, I will no longer put up with you dissolute attitude. You will obey, you will do as you are told, you will be a slave, or your beautiful friend, Neorah, will understand the world in a way that she has never known before.”
“You scoundrel! You bastard! You son of a whore!” Nayeli cried. Warick watched as her pride split in two. He watched her will snap. He watched her legs falter as Hermun held her weight upon his arms. I am watching the earth shake in its very foundations. The gods will not take kindly to me now.
Warick watched as a single tear fell from Nayeli’s eye and drop to the earth, and his heart wrenched open. I have won nothing in this.
“You have not answered me, Nayeli. Hermun.” Warick nodded.
His brother forced Nayeli to stand again and grabbed the back of her neck gruffly, forcing her eyes where he wanted them.
The eyes that looked at Warick were hallow and indifferent. The life was gone. Her face was placid. She took a stance of pure indifference. The only signifier of her anger were her lowered, and her lips were curved in the slightest grimace to emanate disgust and anger that stretched all the way to the depths of her very soul. The glower made Warick quiver mentally.
Warick approached Neorah and signified to Alan with a simple swish of his hand to move away. Warick wrapped one hand around Neorah’s waist and used the other to draw up her skirt. He did so quickly. He tampered with his belt.
“Nayeli. Speak.”
Warick felt the disgust in his bones, but he would not put up with any more of Nayeli’s attitude. It was causing his men, especially, to second guess him. Especially Hermun, and he was the most dangerous of all. Gods forgive me.
He bent Neorah over at the waist and positioned his pelvis. He grabbed on to Neorah’s shoulders and waited a moment.
“Nayeli, either you speak now, or your friend will discover that there are two ways to learn about this world: in the arms of a lover, and in the arms of a captor.”
Silence…
Nayeli’s face was beginning to contort in sadness and complete brokenness. Warick began to pull. Neorah began to cry out. Then she said something that made Warick’s heart sink, “Nayeli, don’t you dare submit. You are my sister, and all I have left. I would not have you submit your last vestiges of sanity just to save my maidenhead. I will not let you go through this again!” Again. The word rang loudly in Warick’s mind as he heard it. She has been through this once before. She knows how unkind the world is.
Nayeli seemed to be pulled out of a trance by the sound of Neorah’s discomfort. She set her jaw, lowered her eyebrows, and pursed her lips. She drew herself up and stood tall and straight as a princess, “Don’t you dare lay a hand on her. If you lay a hand on anyone, it will be me!”
Warick stopped where he was. Another second, and Neorah’s maidenhead would have been his.
“Alan, boil some rags for Neorah’s…wounds,” Warick looked at his brother, “You know what to do.”
Hermun nodded and smiled, leading Nayeli away from the clearing.
“What of her maidenhead?” Alan asked, referring to Neorah.
“No one is permitted to touch it,” Warick looked directly in to Neorah’s eyes as he spoke, “She will be kept clean and above reproach. My father will, no doubt, hold a match, the winner of which will be given her maidenhead.”
Alan glowered at her and then nodded.
* * * *
Nayeli walked through the woods back toward the wagons with Hermun holding tight to her arms. They walked through them and in to the tented area. Even though she had never been here, she felt herself walking through her memories and repeating an all too well known preparation ritual as she rebuilt her walls around her mind. She repeated to herself the same words she had so many other times, no matter what happens, no person can touch your mind unless you allow him to. This too, you will survive. This too you will outlast. This too you will overcome. Do not let them see any fear in your eyes. Be placid, indifferent, and unresisting. Give him what ever he wants, but do not give him your heart.
Hermun led her to a tent and opened the flaps. Nayeli walked in without hesitation and in complete compliance. He closed them after placing two men in front of the entryway.
Nayeli knew where he wanted her to go and led herself there. She looked at the bed with despondence and began to disrobe.
Isis, protect me.
She had finished with her underclothing already and had only her toga on as a loose shield of her nakedness.
“Gods bless my brother for allowing me the opportunity of knowing you. I will not disappoint you, Nayeli. I will treat you well.”
Despite her indifference, there were cracks in her wall and she felt one tear after another fall from her eye. It has been too long. My soul has begun to awaken. I cannot shut it off in time. The cold realization was one of defeat and true sadness.
She felt Hermun hug her waist with his arm, but it was not in gruffness. “We believe intercourse to be of such sanctity, that even if the other party is unwilling, we will not try to hurt them. We believe, when two become one, it is a man and a woman, and married or not. The beauty of the situation is to be treated with respect, no matter the situation. Needless to say, our view is that the two parties who participate will experience ecstasy, submissive or not. But we will not argue with them if they choose not to feel it. We will increase their pain if they will not cooperate, we will make them hurt, and bleed if they will not allow for the feeling of ecstasy,” Hermun’s arms stiffened as he spoke, “I will do my best, but if you do not help, I can only go so far.”
With his monologue finished, Nayeli turned as he wished her to in his arms. “Shh. Do not shed tears. I will be gentle.”
Hermun wiped her tears with his thumbs and looked her in the eyes. His eyes were gentle and soft.
“What do you say?”
Nayeli answered him. She clenched her muscles and emotionally withdrew, “You mat do as you please with my body and I will give you the submission you wish for, but you will never see or touch my soul, will, mind, or heart. Of those, you will never partake.”
She felt her skirt slide upward, as though a breath upon her skin. His hands were rough with callouses, but, as he promised, he was gentle. She gave him what he wanted, let him have her body, but at the end of it all, he had touched her heart, and she knew it.