Beloved of Ashura: Learning to Fly

More than most of my stories, I owe a debt of gratitude to my editors, Terry and Snow. They did much more than just check spelling. Both of them helped to refine and improve the story. This is the first story where I substantially rewrote it once I had a version done. That turns out to be quite a bit harder than writing it in the first place. In particular, Snow wouldn't let me post something that wasn't as good as it could be. I love them both!

This is a very different story for me in many ways. It is set in a fantasy setting; and true to that genre, it is violent and at times bloody. It could just as easily been in the Sci-Fi & Fantasy or BDSM categories. I debated long and hard with myself as well as with Snow and Terry. In the end, it's a story about lesbians that involves D/s and is set in a fantasy setting. I expect it won't be for everyone. Like most of my stories, while there is some sex, it's only a part of the tale. It is a story about finding one's self, accepting it, and then embracing it.

I hope you like it.

*****

There was a smell in the air. Rayven knew it well. It was the smell of fear, of many people in a small space desperately afraid of what was coming. She shook her head. The reek rolled around her but none came from her. If there was a time when a pending battle brought fear with it for her, it was long past. She controlled her own fates. Let anyone opposing her feel fear; she wouldn't.

As she climbed the stairs to the upper levels of the castle, Rayven thought back to the conversation that she just finished. She couldn't remember the last time she spoke with the King before today. She tried to remember. It must have been a year or two after the last rebellion, which would make it about twenty years ago. It was hard to believe. It didn't feel like it was possible for that much time to have passed.

Back then, she was one of his best warriors. She led the charge that broke the line in the final battle to end the rebellion and the King named her one of his champions. That didn't last too long. Once the war was over, there was not much to do. A life as a show warrior was not one she enjoyed. She left and had not been back in all that time.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Rayven looked both ways before heading towards where she remembered the royal suites were. She was tall but not as stocky as she once was; nor did she wear the armor of a warrior any more. When she was in the middle of her forties, she realized that fighting in battles was no longer something she could easily do. While she might continue for a while, eventually she would meet up with a younger, fresher warrior who would be her death. Now she wore the leather armor of a ranger; and rather than fighting in wars, she led squads of bodyguards for caravans and important people traveling. Still her armor made her big enough that people moved out of her way as they fled with what belongings they could carry. It didn't matter to Rayven whether all of what they carried belonged to them. That wasn't her mission.

It didn't take long to find the door that she sought. Without knocking, she pushed open the door. Seated on a chair and listening to a young maiden play a lute was her mission.

Looking over at her, a lovely blonde woman ran her eyes over Rayven for a moment before looking away dismissively. She saw a tall woman wearing a cloak over well-worn armor. She was clearly older, with steel grey hair pulled back into a ponytail bound by cord wrapping around it for a third of the length. Her face was a bronzish red and had lines around the eyes and by her mouth. Despite the years that were easy to read on her face and a scar that ran across one cheek, she retained much of the beauty of her youth. Her brown eyes were dark and unreadable. Despite her gesture, she felt a little shiver run through her. This woman was not someone easily dismissed.

Rayven looked over at the woman playing the lute. While undoubtedly talented, her fingers were clumsy today. From her wide eyes, Rayven could tell that she was terrified. Like most of the castle residents, she wanted to run, but whether it was loyalty or a greater fear of her mistress, she was still there.

"Isana, we need to make ready to leave. Your father has charged me with getting you to safety," Rayven spoke sharply, interrupting the music. She looked again at the lute player. "You are dismissed," she said in a slightly softer voice.

The young woman looked over at the princess, uncertain if she should obey. She saw her mistress' face cloud over and looked down, knowing that she was in a no win situation.

"I'm not going anywhere and neither is Usuri," Princess Isana said in the tone of someone who had been indulged all her life. "No one commands me!"

With a sigh, Rayven stepped forward. Without warning, her hand moved and slapped Isana on the cheek. It wasn't hard but left a little red spot behind. The princess' big blue eyes welled up. It was probably the first time in her whole life that anyone struck her.

"My father will have you flogged for that," Isana said in a tone that somehow conveyed her shock at someone daring to strike her as well as from the sting of the slap itself.

"I don't think so, Princess," Rayven said, saying the title with sarcasm. "First your father owes me his life, more than once. His life debt will take a lot more than that to be cancelled. Second, he told me to expect you to behave that way and bade me to be free with dispensing discipline as I saw fit." Her hard eyes stared into Isana's until the younger woman's eyes dropped.

"You don't understand what is happening, Isana. The rebels are closing in, and soon the castle will be under siege by the Duke's forces. He has planned well, and there is no force your father can bring to bear to break the siege. If your father is lucky, the weather will turn and force the Duke to abandon it on his own. Your father doesn't believe in luck," Rayven said. The words were stark.

"You mean..." Isana trailed off.

"I mean he expects to lose. And when they take this castle, the Duke's forces will rape every woman still alive. He personally will rape you, perhaps after others already have, and then your rapist will marry you. Marrying you will give him legitimacy among the Kantari, at least he thinks so, and they will accept him. Many of Onjani already accept him and are flocking to his banner, looking to throw down the invaders of three generations ago," Rayven said.

Looking over at the handmaiden, Rayven grimaced. "She knows. Her dark skin will condemn her. In your service, she will be a traitor. Being raped and killed is her fate, if you make her stay. The fair ones like you will be the 'lucky' ones. Most of them will be war brides, taken as prizes and given to the Duke's favorites. Is that how you will reward her loyalty for staying true?"

Isana looked at the other younger woman. For the first time, she noticed the trail of tears running down her face. "Usuri, I'm sorry. I didn't know. You must go, now!" she said.

"Your highness, I will go, but let us go together. I don't want to abandon you," she replied.

Dropping into the Onjani language, Rayven spoke. "No, that isn't possible, kinswoman," giving her the honorific in recognition for her willingness to keep to her loyalty. "The King was explicit that just the two of us travel. Her Highness' greatest safety is to draw as little attention as possible. Three are more visible than two." She reached under her cloak and brought out a purse. "The King gives you this. He hopes it will help in finding safety. Now go, now. Go now if you want to live." Rayven's words were harsh and had the desired effect. Crying out her goodbye, Usuri ran out of the room and joined the throng trying to make their escape.

"Put these on," Rayven said, dropping an until now unnoticed knapsack at Isana's feet. "And hurry, our escape depends on speed."

Reaching into the bag, Isana pulled out some clothes. She looked at Rayven in disbelief. "I can't wear these," she said, holding up the pants and top, more suitable for a young man than a young lady.

"You can and you will, you silly girl. We are trying to hide who you are, not proclaim it. I have some other tricks to help, but it starts with you putting those on," the older woman said. It was clear that there would be no argument, and Isana felt the warmth on her cheek reminding her of how Rayven enforced her will.

"Fine," she replied. After hesitating a moment, Isana looked helplessly at Rayven. "I can't undo this dress by myself. Could you help unlace it?" She asked.

Turning away, she missed the glint of humor in Rayven's eyes. "Sure," she said. With a quick motion, she pulled her dagger from its sheath and used it to slice through all the laces up Isana's back. With the laces parted, the dress fell forward and off her body.

It happened too fast for Isana to say or do anything, but she glared at Rayven. "Do you have any idea how much that dress cost?" she asked.

"I don't know, but it is worthless to you at the present time. Anything that is worthless to our escape must discarded," Rayven said coldly. She turned and went to the door and looked out of it and then shut it again. "Hurry, girl. We must move," she said as she pulled out her sword. She could tell that the looting was increasing and she wanted to be ready to defend them if necessary.

Seeing that was the motivation Isana needed. She realized that Rayven wasn't being cold for its own sake, but because they really were in danger. She quickly pulled on the trousers and then the shirt, tucking it in before putting on the belt. Finally after slipping on the riding boots, she put on the forest green hooded cloak. Everything fit perfectly and she wondered if that was her father's doing or Rayven's.

"Done," she said.

Rayven turned and looked her over. She nodded in approval. "Good, girl," she said. Isana felt a little flush of satisfaction from having pleased her protector for the first time.

"Now come here," Rayven said, leaning back against the door to block it. As Isana approached her, she raised her hands and concentrated. Under her breath, she spoke words that Isana couldn't understand but caused the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. It wasn't the first time she had seen magic, but it was the first time someone cast a spell on her. The words seemed to disappear, as if she was being wrapped by a cocoon that muffled all sound. She could feel the magic touching every bit of skin not covered by her clothes as well as running through her hair.

When she finished, Rayven slumped back against the door. There were little beads of sweat on her forehead and she was breathless as if she had been running, even though it had only been fifteen or twenty seconds.

Curious, Isana looked over at a full-length mirror, and gasped. Her hair was black and her skin bronze like Rayven's. Only her eyes betrayed her Kantari blood. They were still sky blue. She raised her hands to touch her cheeks. As she did so, the sleeves of her shirt slide down a little revealing pale skin. Tugging down on her neckline, she realized that the magic only changed the places it could touch. It had also changed the color of her clothes, making them a brownish color.

"It will only hold for two hours. It is easily discovered if anyone examines you closely, so we best move quickly and avoid contact with others. Later I have some other tricks that will disguise you longer," Rayven said. The weakness from casting the spell was already past. "But if anyone asks about you, it will help with the confusion." She handed Isana a Kantari headband. "Use this to pull your hair back," she told her. Kneeling, she attached a dagger in a sheath onto Isana's belt. That was it. They were ready to go.

"Hold my arm and don't let go, unless we run into trouble. If that happens, just say out of my way while I take care of it," Rayven said. She pulled open the door and they stepped out into the crowd.

For a while, Rayven went with the flow of the mass of people. It had been years since she dwelt in the castle, but she still remembered it well. Finally, she got to the place for which she was looking. She pushed her way through the crowd and went down a small side corridor that was ignored by everyone else. It was a dead end, leading back to where the servants emptied the chamberpots. Her practiced eye looked at the wall and found the stone she remembered. Pressing on it made a clicking sound and a portion of the wall opened a crack. Pushing it open further revealed a dark passage way.

"Quickly, get in," she told Isana. "I don't want anyone else to see us."

Once the door closed, they were in total darkness. There was the usual musty smell of a stone passageway with a faint yet discernible smell of human waste. Without thinking about it, Isana reached out and grabbed Rayven's arm. The dark unnerved her, as did the sounds of some rodents moving through the passageway not too far away.

Once again, Rayven spoke under her breath, speaking more of that indecipherable language. Her hand was suddenly illuminated, as if she was holding a cold ball of light. It wasn't bright but it lit things well enough to see. They immediately started following the corridor, quickly coming to a flight of stairs. Rather than the twists and turns of the castle hallways and passageways, this seemed surprisingly straight.

"Are you a battle mage?" Isana asked in hushed tones. The corridor seemed to be a place for whispering.

Rayven wasn't much louder. "Not me. I can manage a few useful spells, but real magic, especially battle magic, is beyond me. I do well enough with my sword," she said. "A little light, an emergency disguise; those are things that come in handy though."

It was hard to tell the exact time it took to get to the other end of the corridor, but it didn't seem terribly long to Isana. Unlatching the door, Rayven pulled it open and cautiously looked out. Although there was the sound of panic off in the distance, it was quiet here. Putting her arm around Isana, she pulled her along as they hurried along a path.

It took a moment but Isana recognized where they were. It was in the back of the castle, in an area where some of the servants lived. "Why are we here?" she asked, unaware of how her voice took on a whiny pitch.

Rayven ignored her. They came around a bend and she saw the building they needed. It was a small stable right against where the castle wall met the tall crag that was behind the castle. No wall was needed there, as there was a sheer faced cliff that went up for over five hundred feet. Noticing that the door was open, she frowned and sprinted to it, unsheathing her sword as she did. Isana ran after her, afraid of being alone.

"Wait here a moment, Isana," Rayven said as she pressed against the side of the building next to the door. With remarkable speed, she spun and went through the door with her sword ready. A few seconds later, Isana heard her. "Come in. It's safe."

When she entered the building, the first thing that she saw was two men on the ground in pools of blood. Neither one was moving. While she didn't recognize one, the other was a servant that she often saw helping take care of the hunting hounds. She came up short as she saw someone in death that she knew. It was the first time for her, and she felt her stomach churn a little.

A painful gasp drew her attention away. Leaning against the wall was someone she had known all her life. Her father's stable master was sitting, holding his belly in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding.

"I stopped them," he said to Rayven who was kneeling and examining him. "They thought they could steal the horses, but they had to go through me." He smiled at Isana. "Your Highness, if I didn't know it was you, I wouldn't recognize you." The smile faded and he coughed. A speck of blood was left on his lips. Turning to Rayven, he nodded. "Good thing you came quickly. The next ones would have gotten past me, I think. Everything's ready for you."

Rayven's face was grim. This man was an old friend, and one of the others that the King trusted implicitly. His wounds were mortal, but it would take a while. "Daktu, I..." she started to speak but he interrupted her.

"Please," he said. He was calm and full of acceptance. He looked over at Isana. "Your Highness, I think you want to go into the stable now."

Looking at Rayven, Isana shook her head. "Why? Can't he get to the healers? He'll be okay, won't he?" There was no sign of the spoiled brat in her now, just a scared young woman who was watching someone who she loved suffer. Daktu had taught her everything she knew about riding, from as far back as she could remember. "Help him, please," she asked.

"I will," Rayven said softly, "the only type of help there is now." Her own voice was full of sadness. She and the stable master had been comrades for years, even if she hadn't seen him in a long time. "Go now. I'll be there in a moment." She waited as Isana went into where the horses were, and then she turned back to Daktu. She quietly drew her dagger.

"Just as sharp as ever?" he asked her.

"Always. I could shave you if you wished," Rayven said as she reached up to stroke his head.

"No, I'll meet the gods as I am. I did my duty," the dying man said.

"That you did, my friend," Rayven said as she slid the edge of the blade along his throat in a quick and hard slice. She felt his blood gush over her hand. She continued to stoke his head. "Ashura, greet him well. He has the heart of a great stallion," she whispered to her goddess. She couldn't remember which god Daktu worshipped but she trusted hers to help guide him to where he would be welcomed. His face relaxed as the burbling sound of his blood mixing with his airway began to fail. The light in his eyes dimmed and then failed. With her bloody fingers, she closed his eyes, leaving a smear behind.

Standing up, she turned to see Isana staring at her with blue eyes, wide with horror. "You killed him," she said.

"I gave him the release he asked for," Rayven said more harshly than she intended. Pausing to take a breath, she tried again. "I'm sorry, Isana, he was my friend too. You haven't seen battle; he has. He was going to die; the only question was when and how painfully. It would have been some time, and he would have been in increasing agony. Is that what you wanted for him?"

Gradually the horror failed from her eyes. Finally, all that was left were a few tears running down her face. "He died for me, didn't he?" she asked.

Rayven gently ran her hand up and down the young woman's arm. "Yes," she said. "So we can't waste his gift. We must go." Turning Isana around, she gave her a push and followed her further into the stable. Her horse was there, saddled with all of her gear and provisions. He nickered at her in greeting.

Isana starred at the other horse. He was bigger by far than the horses she rode. While not as big as Rayven's, it was still intimidating. "I don't know if I can ride that horse. I'm used to ladies horses," she said.

Pausing from checking her gear, Rayven looked over at her. "Master Daktu picked that horse out for you. He knew what you could or couldn't do, and you know he wouldn't have picked him otherwise," she said. Without waiting, she went back to her task. Satisfied, she moved over to the wall. Like in the corridor, she searched until she found a little sunken button. Pressing it opened another secret door, this one leading to a passageway that led downward. There was a little glow of light coming from the other end around a bend.

She grabbed the reins of her horse and looked back at the princess in disguise. Rayven guessed how hard this was, to go from her pampered life to being on the run. "It will be okay. Take your horse and follow me," she said gently.