Posted by The IronRing on June 20, 2005 at 18:23:43:
The long-awaited capture of the renegade Stilgar had created a sensation - overshadowed only by his subsequent escape. The Sahk Drahil, imperial bounty hunters for the court of the emperor, were not only enraged and humiliated by the rebel's escape, they had good reason to be sure he was again caught - and this time killed before he do further mischief. The imperial prefect had decreed that the Sahk Drahil were less than useful if they did not return Stilgar's head before the next confluence of the moons - and if they were less than useful the bounty hunters were to be decimated. Every tenth man, chosen by lot, would be executed by his fellows.
The hunters of the Sahk Drahil had no desire to engore their swords in such a fashion, and so teams of skilled trackers set out to find the man who had been such a thorn in the soft rump of the imperial ruling class. The skies of Thallondar had looked down upon the strife of its people for a space of ten years. The continuing revolt of the peasants and the gentry who supported them had begun to falter - until Stilgar appeared.
A former member of the Sahk Drahil, his loyalties became bitter when, in the service of the prefect and the emperor, he was required to hunt down and kill a dozen young schoolboys. Then he turned outlaw, supporting the cause of the rebellion, toughening and training their fighters. Muscular and powerful, Stilgar was a match for most men. His mane of brown hair crowned a square face and brown eyes that flared with a bitterness for what he had become at the service of the emperor.
Stilgar's capture had come at cost; before he was bound, four Sahk Drahil lay in the dust, their blood watering the ground. His escape, made possible by the slave girl who now accompanied him, was worse. In the melee of his flight, a nobleman was killed, bringing imperial patience to an end. A huge reward was placed on his rebel head, and trackers fanned out in a meticulous, methodical search, through forests and uplands, and across the savannas of Thallondar for the rebel and his female companion.
The bounty hunters were revered as swordsmen, and for their skill at close-in fighting. It came as a surprise therefore, when Stilgar's mount was shot out from under him by a long range arrow, precisely aimed and delivered with the thundering power of a double recurve bow. The Sahk Drahil had taken up an ambush position along the overhanging edge of a wooded escarpment. There they waited in the hope that rumors of his flight might bring him to their sharp, barbed justice.
The first arrow plunged into the horse's neck, slicing the jugular and sending the animal into a frenzy of mortal terror and pain. Two more arrows crashed into its body as it reared and then fell heavily over, dead. Stilgar struggled to free himself as his mount went down, but the screaming, dying animal came down on top of his rider, pinning Stilgar, knocking him unconscious.
Stilgar awoke, bruised, bleeding - and bound. His head rang like an armorer's anvil before a battle. But worse still was the vision presented to him as he opened his eyes. The slave girl who had aided his escape had been injured - and caught. An arrow had transfixed her fair thigh and nicked her mount. But that was not what riveted the bound man's attention - it was the young girl's screams.
There was a sizeable reward offered for Stilgar - but none for the girl. The bounty hunters had decided that the defiant girl would participate in a training exercise. The Sahk Drahil would revenge themselves on the traitor from their ranks - by using the slender young girl as an archery target.
But first they would take the time to satisfy other appetites - the girl was to be raped. The arrow that had been shot into the muscle of her thigh was slowly, painfully pushed through her leg, emerging from the sensitive underside of the girl's thigh. She screamed and twisted as it was pushed through and drawn out on the other side.
Then they stripped her slowly and extended her slim, golden limbs. A few yards from Stilgar, the crying girl was held down, her fair thighs opened and spread wide, her soft arms pinioned above her head. Her buttocks squirmed on the sandy soil, reddened by her bleeding leg. Her shapely face was contorted with pain and rage and her brown curls tossed in the golden light of the long, summer afternoon.
She whimpered softly as they touched her, caressing her soft, bare breasts, teasing her tawny-pink nipples, and descending to violate her golden pubes. Then, as she cried out in shame and pain, they penetrated her, harshly, repeatedly, one after another, slowly satisfying themselves deep in her wet, yielding body.
Finally, weeping and violated, she was stood up, and as the shadows lengthened, they prepared her for their cruel sport. The girl now stood before the bounty hunters, shamefully naked and tied to a tree, her arms outstretched above her head and her legs spread wide apart.
Stilgar had watched her violation with anger and pity. He had harbored the hope that they would release her - or kill her quickly. When he realized what torture they had in mind, he roared at the bowmen to spare her, but they merely laughed and tested their bows - and sized up their target. The girl's fair, golden limbs shone in the afternoon sun, her light brown hair tossed by the wind. They had carefully bound her so she could not escape - and so they could take their time killing her.
Her bright brown eyes flashed with pain and anger, and terror. The girl's soft lips quivered and her pert breasts rose and fell, her ribs pushing in and out above her fair, creamy abdomen. From her golden pussy, drooling with rape, her wet thighs were opened wide, stretched and tied. Blood tricked from the wound in her thigh and ran slowly down her muscled calf, mingling with her creamy violation, dripping into the dust.
The prefect of the cohort knocked an arrow and took the honor of the first hit. He drew the bow fully and aimed carefully at the base of the girl's left leg. The shaft whizzed as it sliced through the air, skewering the girl's Achilles tendon and traveling on to pin her foot against the base of the tree. The girl screamed and stared in horror at the arrow pinning her foot. The next bolt was aimed for her right leg, but missed, striking through the softer flesh of her calf muscle. Again, her scream rent the air - and the Sahk Drahil exchanged smiles of filthy pleasure. Then they started on her outstretched arms, shaft after grim shaft was launched, stapling her soft wrists to the tree. And from each cruel, sharp penetration, blood trickled down her naked body - and with each lancing of her golden skin, she screamed.
Stilgar cried out repeatedly for them to stop, tearing and struggling at his bonds. But they had bound him well this time, and the concussion that boiled in his head made him dizzy and weak.
Now that the defenseless girl had been carefully tacked to the tree, they began to explore softer regions of her anatomy. Working up her spread legs and down her slim arms, they drove the sharp, barbed shafts into her muscles, sometimes shooting in unison, so that two or three shafts struck and bloodied the girl simultaneously. With each razor point that struck the girl, blood spattered from her fresh wounds and she screamed in agony. Each arrow that struck her helpless, naked body jolted her cruelly, and her bare breasts jiggled and swayed. Blood ran freely down her outstretched arms and down her sides. Ribbons of crimson dribbled across her spread thighs and dripped and trickled on the ground.
When her soft limbs had been transformed into a forest of arrows, the men rested, and in the gloaming, secured wine flasks from their baggage and lit torches. The prefect and two of the older men refrained from drink, deciding instead to remain alert and awake as the others took their pleasure. As the cruel parody of archery progressed, it became clear to Stilgar that the helpless girl would suffer and die in the darkness.
The violated girl moaned and wailed in the failing light of the sun, as it slowly gave way to the wild, dancing flames of the torches. In the evil, flickering light, the bounty hunters again drew their bows and began the final chapter in the girl's torture. Taking aim at her belly, the archers pumped shaft after shaft into the girl's soft, white midriff. With each shaft, she screamed, and crimson gore dribbled from her stomach.
Then they took aim at her pretty, rounded breasts. The archer took aim at her defenseless profile; the first arrow caught her right breast to the left of her nipple and skewered her soft breast, emerging from the other side. She shrieked in pain and awaited the next cruel barb. It came quickly. The next bolt was aimed upwards, but was delivered with great power. Also administered from the girl's left, it split her right breast open below her nipple, tore through her flesh, and continued on smashing into her armpit. Blood dribbled in gouts from the gaping wound and the girl screamed and wriggled, shuddering against the pain.
Then her left breast was assaulted. Aiming from both sides, her round, bare tit was transfixed with arrows, skewered again and again. Then they targeted her right breast again, until both tits were heavy with arrows, hanging and sagging, torn and bleeding profusely. They took aim at her belly again and drove shaft after shaft into her midriff. Then they launched their final, obscene assault on the naked girl's ripped and bloody flesh. With watering mouths and eyes glazed from the taste of drink and the smell of the girl's blood, they directed their sharp arrows at the girl's pudendum. As the shafts were driven into her loins, the girl's weak body surrendered, dribbling before them. Her unresisting flesh opened, and her vagina blossomed, drooling sexual release, blood and urine.
She twisted and wriggled slowly now. She had screamed for their pleasure for hours, and her voice was now gone, her vocal chords torn with agony. Her eyes were glazed and she was in deep shock, almost, but not quite numb to each new stabbing insult. Blood ran from her torn body, saturating the ground.
At last, the prefect of the Sahk Drahil had had enough. It was time to finish the girl's pitiful suffering and get some sleep. They had more important matters to deal with in the morning. He cursed softly and swore that Stilgar would not escape on his watch. With these things in mind, he stood, strung his bow, and brusquely ordered the drunken cohort.
"Enough!"
He pulled them roughly aside, and then called to one of his senior men and motioned to the girl. His voice was quiet, resigned, even regretful.
"Open her mouth."
The other man rose and stood before the blood-spattered girl. She moaned softly, her eyes wild and staring, glazed with pain. He reached out and grasped her brown curls and pulled her pretty head back. With his other hand he pulled her chin down and her soft, pink mouth open. The helpless, dying girl was unresisting, and suffered her head to be pulled back. Her eyes wide and staring, she watched in horror and fascination as the prefect prepared to take her life.
She gagged and choked on the blood that drooled from the corner of her mouth, across her cheek and down her neck. When the man had the girl's mouth open and her head drawn back, the prefect nodded. The young girl's mouth lolled open, but the soldier maintained a firm grip on her soft, brown curls. Her mouth was now wide open, fully exposed. The prefect knocked a long range war arrow, like the one that had pinned her thigh. He stood only a few yards from her and took aim at her soft, open mouth. The arrow was large and long, and sported a large, wide bladed tip, barbed and razor sharp. He wanted to end her bloody ordeal - and kill her with a single shot.
The girl could see what was coming and began to tremble in her final mortal fear. He pulled the bow to its full tension, aimed carefully for the back of the girl's mouth, gazed into her poor frightened eyes - and released. The girl was spread eagled, stapled to the tree, dozens of arrows sticking into her naked, bloody body - and the shaft thundered into her mouth.
It split her palette completely apart, cutting the back of her head open and severing her spinal column. The powerfully driven lance continued through her neck and the back of her skull and pinned her head to the tree. The girl died instantly, exactly as the prefect had hoped. The long, dark shaft stuck straight out of the girl's mouth and blood gushed out and down her front, pouring onto the ground. Her eyes were fixed and glassy with the mute, unblinking stare of death. The bounty hunters took turns looking at her and at the unconscious form of Stilgar. Then the prefect ordered his men to retire and get some rest. They would need it for the morrow.
Wary of the renegade's penchant for daring escape, the prefect slept little. When daylight came, he was relieved to see that the powerfully built warrior was still securely bound. Now the prefect of the Sahk Drahil had a difficult choice before him. Kill Stilgar here and chance the peevish displeasure of the imperial courtiers - who would so enjoy seeing him die - or attempt to return him alive to the capital and risk another escape. Prudence and self preservation won out. There was no way he would chance losing his head over this fellow - no matter how much he might admire him, for the prefect had harbored doubts. In the long hours before dawn, the leader of the cohort found himself confronting the gnawing questions in his mind about why a warrior of the stature of Stilgar would take his chances with the rebels - and defy his own comrades.
But these doubts would have to be dealt with another day. Now was a time for grim duty and nothing more. He ordered his men to prepare Stilgar for death. With bows drawn and swords at the ready, Stilgar was roused and made to kneel in the clearing before the stiff corpse of the girl. The arrows still jutted from her nude body, caked with the blood that had splashed from her. The prefect gave instructions for Stilgar to be positioned so that he could be beheaded. But Stilgar snarled at his adversaries.
"A warrior knows how to offer his head!"
The prefect bowed his head to the captive - and then raised the sword. But Stilgar spoke on. "The imperial bounty hunters once sought out only outlaws and the enemies of order. But now they have become butchers - and worse.
"Enough!" cried the prefect, "Suffer your fate!"
And he brought the sword down hard, swiftly freeing Stilgar from his life.
The bounty hunters retrieved their precious arrows from the body of the dead girl and carefully wrapped Stilgar's head for delivery to the imperial prefect. They were now vindicated. No imperial reprisals would be taken against them, and the cohort joked and some sang as they made their way back to the precincts of the city.
But the prefect was silent and secretly guarded his unease at the execution of such a fine warrior and the wanton butchery of the young girl. And his concerns gnawed at his heart until - well... that is another tale.