Beloved of Ashura: Learning to Fly

Isana tied up the horses and checked all the saddlebags to make sure they were secure. Ignoring the boy, she came back outside and nodded to Rayven. As they started walking to tavern door, she leaned over and whispered in her accented Kantari. "Mistress, did you really cut the hand off a boy for trying to steal from you?" she asked.

When Rayven looked at her, there was look that she had never seen before. It was cold and Isana felt a trace of the fear that the boy felt. "I turned in a boy who did steal from me, and the owner of the tavern took it right off. His livelihood depended upon people stopping there, and he couldn't afford to get a reputation for thievery. I give this warning at every tavern since. I haven't had to carry it out, but I would. Never make a threat without being willing to follow through, little Dove," she said as she pulled the door open.

The inside of the tavern was a lot like the village. It wasn't big, with not a lot of people, and it was dirty. Rayven looked around and found a table up against the wall. Without a glance at Isana, she walked to it and sat down. It had a good view of the door as well as the opening that led to where she assumed the kitchen was. She carefully arranged her sword so that it would be easy to get to if necessary.

She glanced at Isana. "Go get me an ale and ask what they have to eat. Get yourself some weak beer, Dove," she said, speaking the same way she did with the boys. She slipped Isana a few coins. "Don't think I won't be watching to make sure I get all of my change," she added.

Although she was very casual about it, she slowly surveyed the room as Isana made her way over to the bar. There were several groups of men spread about the place, both Kantari and Onjani. A couple were fully engaged in conversation amongst themselves and paid no attention to anything else. A couple more were more aware of what was going on in the room. She noticed a man nudging another as Isana walked past. The lust on their faces was easy to see, and as she passed, they continued to watch her ass. Her clothes weren't tight, but it was still easy to see that she had an attractive shape. Their chuckles carried over to Rayven though she gave no sign of it.

Her scrutiny of the tavern continued, although she didn't completely stop watching Isana. In a spot almost opposite her own, there was a man sitting alone. He was another Onjani. His outfit gave him away as not being from the village. There was some similarity to her own, and she was fairly sure that he was another ranger. The question was whether he was a spy for the duke or just some random stranger. He was at least skilled enough to have picked a spot that would give him warning in case of trouble.

With two tankards in her hand, Isana returned to their table. "Here, my Mistress," she said as she placed one down in front of Rayven. She placed the remaining coins beside it before taking her place next to her. "The serving woman said they have a beef stew and some roast venison with vegetables to eat. What may I get you?" Her practice was paying off. Her tribal Kantari flowed off her tongue naturally and the submissive tone was just as automatic.

"Get us both some of the stew. Is this enough coin?" Rayven asked.

The young woman nodded. "It should be." She picked up the coins and made her way back to the bar. Rayven looked on in approval as she noticed Isana taking a path that was further away from the group of men ogling her. It didn't seem to make a difference in how they acted. Their comments were louder, as if they wanted to make sure that Isana could still hear them.

Rayven tried to ignore them and instead surreptitiously observed the other ranger. It wasn't hard to see that he was doing the same to her. "Hopefully, I'm harder to read," she thought as she looked over at the loud group of men making catcalls as Isana came back with the bowls of stew. She did it in a way that still allowed her to observe him.

"Hmmm," she thought. "He wears no badges or anything that betrays his allegiance, but he clearly is someone's man. The sooner we are away from here the better."

"Here you are, Mistress," Isana said as she placed the bowl in front of her. Reaching out, Rayven pulled the bowl a little closer and began to eat from it. Taking her time, she effectively hid any concern on her part. For a moment, Isana stared at her. Even in her submissive role, courtesy was something Rayven always gave her. Now it was as if being served didn't warrant acknowledgement. "Don't be stupid, Dove," she told herself after a few moments. "It's the disguise."

She tasted the beef stew. It was bland and mushy. She forced herself to keep eating it as if it wasn't the worst tasting thing she ever ate. "If this was served in the palace, she thought, "the cook would be flogged." She felt her gorge begin to rise and forced it back down. Nothing would betray her more than throwing up her food. Worse than that, she would disappoint Rayven. More than anything, focusing on that helped her to keep going. Having her approval was already extremely important to Isana.

Sipping on the beer helped. She rarely drank beer but this wasn't terrible. It was weak but it quenched her thirst and allowed her to get a few difficult bites down. They spoke very little, and it was clear they wanted to be left alone.

As they were getting close to finishing, the serving woman came over. Her eyes flicked over Isana but dismissed her of any importance. She looked at Rayven. "Would you be staying the night?" she asked.

"No, we'll be moving on when we finish," Rayven replied. From behind the woman, she saw the other ranger lean forward as if straining to hear the conversation. It didn't matter. Rayven had no doubt that once coins passed hands, the woman would tell him everything.

"We have baths, if you want to stop long enough to wash the road off of you."

Rayven sighed. There was nothing she would like more than to soak in a hot tub, but it was out of the question. They needed to get a good distance between them and the village before nightfall. In fact, they would keep going as late as they could. More than that, however, was the vulnerability that came with undressing. She couldn't allow that.

"As tempting as that is, we must be off shortly," she replied. The woman nodded at her. "I'll have some of that beer, however." When the woman turned to go back to the bar, Rayven handed Isana a few more coins. "Go get it for me."

Some more people were in the tavern now and the paths to get to the bar were few. Isana had no choice but to go right by the bawdy group of men. As she passed them, she heard them talking about what they would like to do with her. In her role, she was supposed to be unfamiliar with Onjani. It was impossible, however, not to understand what they were saying. Despite her best efforts, the automatic response was unstoppable; her cheeks flushed and she pursed her lips tightly. Gripping the coins tightly in her balled up fist, she kept walking to the bar.

The serving woman looked at her sympathetically. "It's a rough life for a slave as pretty as you, dearie," she said. "At least, your Mistress treats you well."

Isana looked at her, giving the impression that she was trying to understand. Finally, she responded in broken Kantari. "Yes. Maybe more bad. Mistress kind."

"That's it; see the bright side of things. That's what I always say," the woman said as she looked around the dingy tavern. "It's not much, but it's mine." She gave Isana a smile and placed the mug of beer on the bar. After handing her the coins, she turned and began to make her way back.

One of the men had moved slightly, making it even more difficult to get through. Trying to avoid spilling, she carefully stepped around him. It put her uncomfortably close to another one of them. As she passed by, she felt a hand grope her bottom and squeeze until it was a painful pinch. Without thinking, she turned and forcefully slapped his hand away. A splash of beer sloshed out of the mug and landed on his boot. She began to swear at him, drawing upon a lifetime of listening to her father's men when they forgot she was around. Even in her anger, she managed to keep her accent.

His face darkened with anger. "You Kantari bitch," he shouted. His hand drew back and he started to slap her in the face, but a firm hand caught his wrist before he could make contact. His arm stopped as if hitting a wall.

Rayven looked down at him with a pleasant expression, betraying no sign of the seething anger inside her. "If you please, I apologize for my slave, but do not strike my property." Her hand squeezed a bit more; hard enough that his face betrayed the pain, and then let go. Her other hand rested on the pommel of her sword. "If she needs discipline, I will do it."

Looking over at Isana, her hand flashed and slapped her across her cheek. The sound rang through the tavern and Isana's head jerked with the blow. "What have I told you? You're a slave now. If you have a complaint, you come to me. You're not a free woman of the Kantari now," she coldly said in Kantari. The white mark on Isana's face slowly turned a bright red. "Please apologize to this man," she commanded.

The shock of being struck was far worse than the blow itself. Rayven cupped her hand in a way that softened the blow while making it sound harder. Still, Isana felt the sting of tears in her eyes. The look Rayven gave her was completely without any softness or warmth. There was only disappointment and anger. It might be a disguise, but even she couldn't see through it.

"I was wrong, Sir. Please accept my apology for hitting your hand," she replied in her accented allegedly native tongue.

"Shall I translate for you?" Rayven looked at him.

"Nah, we had to learn the blondies' fuckin' language," he said with a sneer. "Not no more, eh?" He looked Isana up and down. "How about you lend her to me for an hour and we will call it even?" he asked Rayven.

Now her cold glare swiveled to him. Her hand was back on the pommel of her sword. "I think not, Sirrah," she said. His back stiffened slightly at the assumption that he was her inferior. "I don't lend my slave to anyone." She gave him a slight smile. "In any case, I'm training her to worship Ashara and I'd forfend anything that might lessen that. You understand, I'm sure" she said. "Come, Sirrah. Let me buy you and your table a round of ale, and my slave will clean your boot."

The anger was still plain on his face, but when he looked into her eyes, it melted away. The smile on her lips didn't touch them. They were as hard as steel. His eyes traveled up and down her. Unlike with Isana, he paid no attention to any of her feminine features. Instead, he noticed the well-worn but meticulously maintained armor, the practiced way her hand rested on her sword, and the way she balanced on her feet that gave away someone with years of experience as a warrior. There was almost an eagerness to fight in her, as if a coiled spring was waiting for release. Against all that, he wilted.

"That will do," he sullenly said, studiously avoiding eye contact with anyone.

"Madam, if you would bring my friends here a round of your fine ale," Rayven said without shifting her own eyes off him. She stayed like that as Isana dropped to her knees without being told and used her sleeve to mop off all the beer from the man's boot. The smell of him was overwhelming and she thought that he could use the bath much more than the two of them. Only when Isana was standing beside her again, and the men had mugs in front of them did Rayven allow her attention to shift.

Throughout the confrontation, she remained aware of the unknown other ranger. While they were eating, he continued to pay them furtive attention, but now it seemed that he no longer seemed to care. As she strode over to the bar to pay for the drinks, she smiled in a tightlipped way. "Good. You'd never imagine that the princess' protector would slap her across the face and order her to wipe a drunk's boot. Your lack of imagination is our best safeguard," she thought.

Isana trailed in her wake, wanting to stay within her protective bubble. The spot Rayven hit still stung and it was hard not to let tears come. In her whole life, no one ever struck her, not even her father. Her lifeline was to cling to the role and take it as a slave would. "It's her right to discipline me," she told herself over and over again. "My mistake put us in danger."

Once done, they moved towards the exit. The other ranger stood at the same time and came towards them. Rayven pivoted and once again rested her hand on her sword, although her face and eyes were far more friendly than with the drunks. They were in the shadows as he approached.

"Greetings. If you don't mind, I noticed that you haven't marked your pretty little slave yet. Does that mean you might be thinking of selling her?" he asked. "I'd be interested, if so."

"Greetings Sir," she said, automatically giving him the respect that she denied the drunk. "At some point yes, but I haven't tired of her yet. You're right, though, better not to make a permanent mark until she has a permanent owner," Rayven said. She felt Isana shrinking behind her to hide. "As you saw, she still is adjusting to being owned. Capturing her in battle is easier than fully housebreaking a slave, don't you think?"

He laughed. "Indeed. Well, she looks spirited so I wish you full enjoyment of her," he said. "Though be careful not to find your throat slit. I know how vicious they can be."

"No fear there. She tried that once. Being caned and then having to ride was enough to teach her the futility of trying to surprise me," Rayven said, pausing to look over her shoulder at Isana. "She was much more pliant after that."

"Sounds like you have a made a good start on her training. Are you sure you wouldn't consider selling her? I'd love to ride that savage," he said. Lust crept into his voice.

"That's why my answer is no. I'm enjoying breaking her in far too much to stop now," Rayven said. "My pardon, but we must return to the road. My next job awaits and Dynvard will not come to us. Fare thee well, Sir."

"And the same to you, Lady," the ranger said before returning to his table.

As Rayven shut the door behind her, she sighed in deep relief. She sensed curiosity and a trace of regret about them, but not suspicion. "Probably because he doesn't have news yet of the princess' flight," she thought. "We need to go as far as we can today," she said to Isana in Kantari, being careful to maintain the illusion of impatient travelers eager to reach their destination.

"Yes Mistress," Isana replied as they neared the stable.

"Boy? Are you there?" Rayven called out.

The young lad instantly rose up from a pile of hay in the shadows. His eyes were wide as he looked at Rayven; clearly, the memory of her grabbing him was still vivid. "Here, Mestra. No one's disturbed your things," he said.

Rayven started to smile and then noticed a red mark under his eye. She came close and looked down at him, putting her hand on his chin and lifting it. It was the beginnings of a black eye, absent before they went in to the tavern. "What happened here?" she asked softly.

"Just doing my job," he replied and twisted away from her.

"I see that. Some other boy thought that perhaps he could take and you would pay, eh?" she said with a scowl.

His scowl was almost a perfect match, although it was somewhat more vicious. "He won't make that mistake again," he snarled. "Broke his arm, I did."

"Good for you, lad. Once you let someone take advantage of you, they'll do it again and again. Here you go," she said holding out two silver coins.

He looked at them with eager eyes, but he held back. "Mestra, we agreed on one silver," he said.

Isana smiled at the cute young boy as he tried to do the noble thing. She could tell how much a second silver would mean to him. She looked up at her Mistress and felt her breath quicken a little. "She isn't just strong and skilled. It's matched with kindness and mercy too," she thought. "And so beautiful," she added.

"Yes, but nothing stops a customer from giving a token for work well done," she said with a smile. "Come, take it. We must be off," Rayven said.

"Then thank you, Mestra," he said as he palmed the coins and slipped them into a pouch hidden under his shirt.

The two women went over to the horses and untied them. While pleased, it didn't stop Rayven from looking over all the saddlebags just to be sure. They all looked undisturbed and she nodded over at the boy. "Well done, boy," she said, still smiling. "I wish you luck."

After leading the horses outside, they mounted and left the boy and the village behind. While still in the village, they took a leisurely pace but as soon as they were over the bridge, they drove the horses harder as they went down the road. At first, there were a few other travelers on the road, but they soon left them behind.

The land changed after crossing the river. Their travels that morning were through scrub brush. Rather than short sparse trees growing up out of the dry land, they now rode through dense patches of forest. The tan and dusty landscape was exchanged for a more lush and green one. The further they got from the village, the denser the thickets seemed to spring up along the side of the road.

As they made a turn around a corner in the road, Rayven looked back over her shoulder and then strained to see ahead of her. "No one on either side of us, Dove. We'll leave the road here. Let's dismount and try and leave no sign," she said. They both got off their horses and led them to a small break in the thickets. Once they were through, she went back and checked to see if they left any sign of their passage. Picking off a couple of tufts of horsehair off the branches on either side of the opening, she carefully erased the hoof prints that betrayed where they left the road.

Once satisfied, Rayven came over to where Isana was holding the reins of their horses. A little bit of light filtered down and she could see the red mark on her cheek, bearing testimony to the blow earlier. Stopping in front of her, she reached out and softly stroked the spot.

"I am sorry for this, little Dove," she said.

Isana pressed her cheek against the gentle fingers and looked up at Rayven. "I let you down and you did what you had to do," she whispered. Her eyes bored into the older woman's. "I am yours, Mistress, to do what you will." Her heart beat faster as she said the words, hearing the truth in them. "Does she hear that too," she wondered.

Rayven continued to stroke the spot for another few moments as she looked back. Unlike Isana, her eyes were unreadable. They were dark and didn't express much, except for a dim golden flicker deep in them. Finally, she bent her head and lightly brushed her lips against the tender spot on Isana's cheek. She heard the young woman let out a tremulous breath that seemed to come from deep in her body.

With a regretful sigh of her own, she turned away and walked over to her horse. "Alright, we must go. We need to go farther than anyone might guess today," she said. When they were both mounted, she led the way, picking a path through the forest that went in the general direction she wanted.

A couple of hours later, they broke out of the forest and into rolling plains. Before, the pace was slow as they made their way through the dense woodlands. Now and after they switched horses, they were able to ride faster. Rayven knew they would leave a trail to follow here, but distance was more important than stealth.

In the forest, they rode single file. With an extra horse between them, it made it difficult to talk. Here, they could ride side by side. Isana looked over at Rayven. It was hard not to openly admire her. She rode with strength and confidence, as she seemed to do everything. "I haven't seen a moment yet when she wasn't sure what to do," she thought to herself. Her eyes rested for a moment on the swell of her breasts. Although it was only slight, Isana remembered how they looked when the armor was off.