Tam & Thia

I squirm against the cold and rough stone at my back, arms stretched above my head by metal cuffs that chafe my wrists. It's a yearly tradition for my people going back a generation that a girl, usually a slave but not always, is left at the edge of the beach a few minutes from the village, a sacrifice to appease the raider band that preys on this coast. Bitter tears fall as I consider how low we've fallen, how my people for one shining moment had the courage to even stand up to them, and how my father's attempts to rally the village again has sentenced me to this fate. The sudden sound of frequent splashing has me peering desperately into the gloom beyond the light of the torch at my feet and I glimpse a small boat racing for the shore, its sail still unfurled even as oars are being furiously paddled. I try to calm my fluttering heart as the boat crunches onto the strip of sand, slipping in among our own fishing vessels, and then there's a second crunch as someone jumps out.

I shiver as I spot that someone, my eyes widening as they prowl towards me. He, the newcomer undoubtedly a he, is as tall as the stone I'm chained to, clad only in a short length of fur wrapped around his hips and a cloak seemingly made from the same animal. He has a primordial aspect to him as he lopes across the beach, more than just a hint of barbarism. There's an easy grin on his face as his gaze roves over my nude olive form, my cheeks burn as my emotions war with each other, and then he's looming over me. The key to the cuffs has been placed on a string around my neck, dangling between my breasts, but he produces an axe from beneath his cloak after a moment. I cringe as the barbarian swipes the weapon through the air, hearing the whistle most hear at their end, and duck my head in fright as he swings at my chains.

Metal splinters and my arms quickly drop as the axe-strike cuts me free. I stagger forward and he catches me, folding me into an embrace I should struggle out of. I'm not though, exhausted by long hours of bondage, and he balls my long dark hair in a fist, tilting my head to snatch a kiss. A hand instinctively comes up, the slap loud, and he leans back, the grin still on his face.

"You'd treat a marauding raider that way?"

I falter at his words, glancing anxiously out towards the water as I remember why I'm at the beach.

"If they were Crimson Reavers I'd have become theirs according to an old bargain. You are just a thief."

The barbarian shrugs in response, his gaze also drifting to follow mine. I notice the hand holding his axe has clenched though, a determination appearing in his eyes.

"If I'm just a thief you are a prize I'm unwilling to part with."

The words are growled out as the lights of a ship come into focus and he takes a long stride forward, placing himself between me and the approaching craft.

The fight that follows seems tilted in favour of the barbarian at the start. The Crimson Reavers are briefly caught off-guard by his appearance, there's a touch of fear, as they scramble from their boats but a yelled order sees them rally. By then though the barbarian is upon them, his axe whirring as one raider is chopped down amid a spray of sand and blood. I watch another slain by a wild swing that opens his throat, bile rising up mine, and I retreat into a huddle at the base of the stone as I tightly close my eyes, listening to the terrible sounds of combat and death just a handful of steps away.

A rough hand shakes me some time later and I cautiously open my eyes, not knowing what to expect. I let out a sigh of both relief and fear upon seeing the barbarian standing in front of me, blood smeared across his muscled torso and limbs. Crimson Reavers litter the beach, never to threaten anyone else, and I recognize their captain among the fallen, the look on his face one of surprise.

"Those few who are left have fled lass and I doubt they'll return." A quick glance shows the truth, the ship already gone. "And surely now for my reward."

The barbarian removes his furs, spreading the cloak on the ground, and settles upon it, staring at me with lust. I'd expected this, maybe even anticipated it, since the barbarian had first kissed me and sensually rise from my huddle. I am both blessed and cursed with a goddess' body, sleek curves and supple limbs that easily inspire covetous thoughts, and my movements produce a near-instant reaction.

"Please be gentle sir."

My innocent words are hardly an act but the barbarian grunts, acknowledging them without comment either way. I straddle his hips, feeling his iron shaft at the apex of my thighs, and grasp it as I shift. We both gasp as I take as much as possible, our bodies one conjoined entity, and he takes hold of my slender waist as I start rocking.

"You don't really want gentle. Your body is made to be handled roughly." I let out a moan as the barbarian thrusts up, pushing more of himself into me, and he laughs as it breaks my rhythm. "Enough foreplay."

In a sudden tangle of limbs I find myself on hands and knees with the barbarian behind me. He sets the pace, rapid brutal thrusts that drive the breath from my lungs and strength from my flesh, and I collapse as an orgasm overwhelms me. Steel fingers grip my body, one at the waist and another crushing a breast, and then my spine is bent into a bow, my head resting on the barbarian's shoulder.

When the barbarian's climax finally comes I've had two more, our bodies drenched with coital sweat. The feeling of his ejaculation triggers a fourth orgasm that crashes over me and I weakly moan, shaking my head.

"No more. Please sir no more."

Mercifully I am released, slumping against the fur cloak. The barbarian stretches before joining me, pulling me against him, and idly glances at the lights of my village in the distance.

"Your home?"

I think of my father languishing in a cell, of the fate nearly mine, and my next words are full of bitterness.

"Not anymore."

"Good. I'm in need of a bed-warmer."

I blush at the statement, even though that would have been the least of my roles whilst the Crimson Reavers' slave.

"We must be gone before dawn though sir."

"That's hours away little bed-warmer. And my name is Tamelan."

"Brianthia."

He rolls atop me, blotting out the night sky, and this time I'm sure my cries of passion can be heard in the village as he ravishes me again.

---

I wince as the sun blindingly rises over the horizon, stepping sideways into Tamelan's massive shadow. He glances back as he hears me shuffle, after a moment also moving sideways, and I glare as he turns fully to face me, witnessing me in natural light for the first time. I can't help preening under his heated gaze, I'm still nude apart from cuffs and key, and then pathetically let myself drop to the ground. We've been walking for a couple of hours already and neither of us really got much sleep, rather caught up in more pleasing activities. Tamelan approaches and takes hold of my feet to inspect the soles before scowling.

"Yours has been a soft life but you'll survive. Back on your feet."

I pout as he backs off, taking the time to see him in the light while I stand. Sun-bronzed skin is draped over firm muscle, his every line fluid but also tempered, and I involuntarily lick my lips as part of his fur skirt shifts. His shoulder-length hair sways as he shakes his head in amusement, a knowing glint in his eye, and he turns back towards the sun, a hand coming up to shade his gaze.

The path we're on leads to the nearest city, many-towered Gunala which claims to be my village's liege and capital of the realm of Nala. It's about a half-day's walk inland, the roads patrolled by militia for a mile beyond the city walls, and soon after crossing that boundary an armoured horseman rides up to us, sneer on his face.

"You're far from your wild lands barbarian, and on the wrong side of Gunala. And your wench looks unbroken. You should see to that."

I clench my fists, dainty compared to Tamelan's, in irritation at both the horseman's comments and Tamelan's responding chuckle.

"My lifestyle will break her without effort. Your civilized methods won't work."

"Foul creature!"

I brace for the outbreak of violence but the horseman obviously sees us as not worth using his sword on, instead kicking his horse back into motion and galloping off along the road. Tamelan watches him for a moment before letting out an amused snort.

"Braggart wouldn't know how to break a wench."

I use the moment after Tamelan speaks to sidle closer to him.

"Did you mean what you said then? About breaking me?"

He looks down at me as we resume our walk to Gunala, his wandering eye still making me blush.

"I do. Long roads are ahead of me so you either adapt or die. And after last night you've already begun adapting."

My blush deepens but there's also a glow of pride, that the barbarian thinks I have what it takes.

I'm still glowing as we pass into the city, still so pleased with myself that I have forgotten my nudity. That changes though when a squeezing hand places itself upon my ass, provoking a squeal, and I press against Tamelan. The hand swiftly vanishes when the barbarian is registered, whoever it belongs to disappearing into the crowd. I stick closely to Tamelan, reminded of my vulnerability and also that this was the furthest I'd ever been from my home, and nervously cling to him as we enter a dim tavern. A thin layer of smoke darkens the rafters of the main room and the smell of roasting meat comes from one corner but it is a pale-skinned woman from the north that draws the eye by dancing in revealing silks on a stage, slowly moving to the beat of a drum.

"Slut."

"It could be you on that stage."

There was no tone to Tamelan's words but I still whirl to face him in disbelief.

"I would refuse." Quick as a flash Tamelan tugs on my necklace, snapping it, and then makes the key vanish. I quiver in muted outrage, aware of how my appearance could now be interpreted. My rage grows as I glare at Tamelan's placid expression but a dangerous look comes to his eye as I consider swinging a cuffed wrist and I back down. "I mean it Tamelan. I would refuse!"

He shrugs, eyes drifting back towards the redheaded dancer after a moment, and I sulk as he quickly becomes as entranced as every other man in the tavern, forgetting the woman at his very side.

The slut's magic is broken when she stops dancing, words both vile and pleading shouted as she drops into the arms of the drummer with a feline grin. Tamelan's yells of appreciation are among them, like the rumbling of an oncoming storm, and then he's up on his feet, bullying his way to the stage. My skin crawls when he and the pair on stage glance at me, a languid smirk on her face, while a spark of fear grows as others also start glancing at me in curiosity. When Tamelan beckons I gather myself, despite earlier comments, and dash to him, lithely twisting away from groping hands.

"My lass."

Tamelan introduces me as both drummer and dancer cast appraising eyes over my figure. I can feel excitement building behind me, drunkards and rogues watching carefully, and try not to shy away when the drummer stretches out a finely-muscled arm to physically assess me.

"She seems capable. I accept your proposal."

"What proposal?" I look between the two men wildly. "Tamelan? What have you said?"

Damn barbarian! I was to take the dancer's place just so that he can have a tumble with her after. She's already sitting on his thigh, the pair quietly whispering to each other, while I'm on the stage, introduced as Thia. The drummer slaps a hand against his instrument, the noise silencing rowdy drinkers, and then he raps out a steady beat. I try to submerge myself, to lose myself to the rhythm, and move slowly around the stage. I gain confidence as the drummer continues, rolling my hips in time with the beat, and near the edge of the stage, sinking to my knees before cupping my breasts in offering to a whip-thin scoundrel. A coin is flicked past me, clattering against the wood of the stage, and I bend forward until my breasts just kiss the wood, writhing as my unseen face burns with humiliation. Cheers fill the room, even from Tamelan, as I sinuously rise and then proceed to leap around with gusto as coins fall around me.

I end the dance kneeling, legs spread to expose my innermost place and with heaving breasts pointing at the ceiling. Swiftly after the drummer is collecting the coins and pocketing them, Tamelan ambling over with an arm pressing the dancer to his side.

"Come lass! Before the mob spirit you away and you are lost!"

In a daze I trail behind the pair, climbing into the tavern's heights, and on their heels slip into a chamber. Tamelan spins, sweeping both me and the dancer into his embrace, and then falls onto the rough bed, his skirt dislodged by his hardening shaft. I jealously lavish attention on it, I was the one he rescued from raiders after all, while the dancer squirms to unclothe her svelte breasts and press them against Tamelan.

"Abandon this fish-wife and take me with you!"

I glare at the slut, but Tamelan puts a heavy hand on my head to hold me in place.

"That fish-wife is a prize won through combat. You're a slave I paid your master to use." I nuzzle his strong thigh as a sour expression appears on the dancer's face, lick his firm shaft from bottom to top. "Lass, let me get my coins' worth."

I slink over to a chair and drop into it with a flourish, displaying myself to him. There's a little voice at the back of my mind screeching nastily about my behaviour but I will it into silence. I need Tamelan now, not that he seems willing to give me up, and besides my performance on the stage awakened something in me. The dancer lets out a long moan as she's pulled onto Tamelan's shaft, struggling to take it, and I can see her lower lips stretching as more of him disappears inside her. I can have more than the slut, I don't know what it says about any of us though, and run my eye up the length of her spine, watching the muscles of her back deliciously shift as she writhes.

---

It doesn't take long for the dancer to bring Tamelan to climax, shooting a smug glance in my direction as he groans, but he then sends her scurrying out with a light slap to the ass. The barbarian follows, commanding I stay in the chamber, and it is several hours before he returns. He is in a state of joyous drunkenness and snatches me up, swinging me round like I'm a doll. I'd been preening in front of a sheet of polished iron, trying to recapture my earlier sensuality, and was caught unaware, yelling as I flew through the air.

"Employment lass! A way out of this little country!" I don't know how to react, different feelings swirling within me, and Tamelan notices. "You'll love it in the wider world."

He then produces for me clothing, a thin leather belt possessing two lengths of silk that hang down and firm-looking sandals, and I quickly slip it all on, arranging the belt to sit rakishly on my hips. The silks provide only a hint of modesty but it's better than nothing and I thank Tamelan as we leave the tavern, moving around him while teasingly rubbing against his body.

The employment Tamelan has found is with a merchant caravan heading north. I know only a little of the lands outside mine, Father was a sailor in his youth and has told me some stories about the east, but I have heard of our first stop, the great port city of Tanala. It's somewhere else Gunala claims rule over, the only place on the west coast that's defended. We set off the following morning as a little column of wagons and its mercenary escort, joining the other traffic on the road. The caravan master is an overweight Esselarian man named Behani, after an hour of his leering I walk next to Tamelan, and his guard captain is another of my countrymen, a tall olive-skinned warrioress called Viridia. A tight leather bustier and cloth skirt adorns her body, a shortsword hangs in its sheath from the belt at her hips, and she I also avoid, intimidated by her prickly attitude.

She's also the one Tamelan gets to try and train me, forgoing a decent portion of his pay so I can learn how to use a blade. I spend long hours when the caravan stops each night flailing about, providing great entertainment for the rest of the hired guards, before Tamelan takes me atop his fur. By the time Tanala comes into view, two weeks after leaving Gunala, I'm somewhat proficient, able to hold my own against Viridia for at least a couple of strikes. As camp is pitched on our last time camping by the side of the road, in the shadows of the port city's walls, Tamelan takes crumpled linen from his pack, handing it to me.

"I understand we'll be heading through the mountains. I thought I should give you this before we leave your homeland."

I shake the linen until it resembles a cloak and throw it on, securing it around my neck. It's perhaps only the third time he's shown me kindness and I rise onto my tiptoes to kiss him, throwing my arms around his neck.

"Forget weapons training. Just take me."

There's an easy grin on Tamelan's face as he undoes the knot of my cloak and then removes his own before spreading it. I feel vibrant when I lower myself onto his shaft, I'd been restraining myself whilst on the road, and mewl noisily, face burning as the other guards openly watch our frenzied coupling.

"Are all Nalan women such sluts?"

The faint question, from one of the foreign guards, hangs in the air as I ride Tamelan and it is Viridia who answers.

"Hardly. This one lacks any shame." I blush at her words but can't help mewling as Tamelan grabs my waist and bucks up into me. "I don't know why I let you stay with us barbarian."

Pausing to glance over at the guard captain Tamelan suddenly jerks me down until he's nearly hilted.

"My animal magnetism. And my axe."

---

The opening of Tanala's great gates every morning is accompanied by the blaring of horns, the sound rolling out across sea and plain for miles around. Behani wastes no time in getting the caravan into the city, our column proceeding along the wide street that cuts through it, and soon we're beneath the dome of the grand market, once at the center of Tanala. Another street goes off towards the northeast, dividing that half of the city, and I know we'll be taking it when Behani concludes his business. Viridia releases the guards for the day, commanding simply that we return by the time the camp is pitched on the northeast road, and Tamelan eagerly hunts for the nearest tavern.

Inside there is no dancing girl, just an ignored dark-skinned musician with a strange instrument in his hands, but the wonderful aroma of a cooking boar makes my belly growl.

"Lass! You cannot mean you find trail-food unfulfilling!"

I blush and then faintly smile as Tamelan's stomach rumbles, leaning against him while we find a table.

"Sounds like you don't either barbarian." He laughs, glancing at me with a look that makes my heart flutter. "Go and fill your guts."

Crossing over to the pair of spits Tamelan merrily takes a chunk of meat, loading it up atop a thick slice of bread, and grabs a tankard before returning. Even as he sits a lissom wench in a daringly-cut tunic has appeared, resting her head on his bicep.

"Is that for anyone?" Slim fingers reach for the meat but Tamelan's larger digits wrap crushingly around her wrist until she squeals. "Sir!"

"She just wants paying." I glance around until I spot a heavyset man carrying a club approaching us, anxiety entering my voice. "Surely you've paid for food before?"

The wench is let go and she rubs the held wrist with a hurt expression on her face as she leans away from Tamelan. The man, either the tavern guard or its owner, looms over us as the barbarian pulls several coins from a pouch at his waist and scatters them across the tabletop.

The taverner hovers until we finish the bread before firmly escorting us out. Tamelan seems placid after a full meal, accepting what happens, but as we stroll along a street an attitude I'd seen only once before comes over him, his hands bunching into fists. He leads me between warehouses and cramped tenements, eyes flicking back and forth, until we reach another tavern, the dim roar of a crowd coming from within. Pushing in I find myself near the edge of a circular pit, watching two men pummelling each other. Next to me Tamelan is practically vibrating, eager to leap down and join the combat, but I place a restraining hand on his arm, pointing at a man seated on a dais overlooking the pit.

"Speak to him if you want to fight!"

With a nod he makes his way through the crowd and I glance into the pit just as one vicious punch sends blood flying in a vivid arc. Part of me feels very vulnerable, I'm glad of the cloak I'm wearing, and I whisper a prayer as Tamelan vaults over into the pit, his entry attracting the attention of the other fighters.

His cloak and axe have been left on the dais, his virtually nude form glowing in the torchlight, and I bite my lip as he prowls forward, hunkered low. The first man to approach, blood streaming from a gash on his forehead, reels as Tamelan swings quickly, there's an audible crunch as he catches an ear, and then a second blow sends the man into the pit's wooden walls. The tavern seems to vibrate with the impact and Tamelan grins at his remaining opponent as the stunned fighter collapses. A wild cry cuts through the fallen quiet as the second opponent charges, arms flailing, and Tamelan takes a step forward, lowering himself and then flipping the running man up over his shoulder. Sand is thrown up when he lands, gasping for breath, and my barbarian slowly turns in a circle, soaking up the noise of the crowd. The pitmaster rises from his throne-like chair, outrage and incredulity on his face, before pointing at Tamelan.

"You've won that bout newcomer. Care for a shot at the big prize?"

Tamelan has a cocky smile as he agrees but I'm not as confident, wondering what tricks are about to be unleashed.

Seven men jump into the pit, armed with small daggers or improvised clubs, and Tamelan whirls round as they encircle him, a hint of grim purpose tainting his smile. He becomes a force of nature, a storm on the sand of the arena. One man dies as a stiffened hand crushes his throat, the dagger he'd wielded being used to cut the hamstrings of a second man. As cries of pain come from the pit Tamelan is already back on the move, hurling his dagger and then following it so that its target can do nothing to avoid the barbarian's charge. Both men crash against the wall, the wood planks splintering, before Tamelan spins and throws the dazed man at the others. He uses the broken planks to scramble from the pit, striking anyone who tries to waylay him, and steadily forges a path towards the dais. I'm torn, wanting to be at his side but also wanting to spirit myself from the tavern, until I feel a hand close around my upper right arm.

"Will he stop if I threaten his slut?"

I shake my head frantically as I'm spun, staring up at a scarred man's leering face, and try to resist the urge to scream for help. A quick glance towards the dais shows Tamelan there, axe in hand and already bloodied, but he pauses upon seeing me.

I'd never seen a berserker in action, never even heard of those semi-mythical barbarian warriors. Tamelan becomes who I associate them with though, the sight of him bounding across the tavern both awe-inspiring and terrifying. He barely seems to touch the floor, great strides carrying him effortlessly across the pit, and there's a horrid fleshy noise as he buries his axe in my captor's skull. Tamelan takes my wrist and then hauls me onto his shoulder, hand warm on my ass, as he bursts from the tavern.

"We'll make for the northeast gate."

I can only hum in agreement as Tamelan sets off, a wolf in a city of sheep, but after a while I start squirming, desiring to let the blood drain from inside my skull. I stagger, woozy, and then he's standing over me, enveloping me protectively in his shadow.

---

The horns of Tanala blare again, signalling the closing of the gates. A dozen caravans were making camp in the land either side of the northeast road, thin smoke trails rising as each prepares their trail-food for the journey ahead. I'm kneeling at Tamelan's side as Viridia gives out tasks for the night, notice her eyes narrow when they pass over the pair of us. It had taken some time to lose our pursuers in the maze that Tanala has become, enough perhaps that the local militia was alerted, but we managed to escape. Now though I'm not so sure. Finally Viridia orders Tamelan to be a sentry, for even in the shadow of walls danger lurks, and then she turns to me.

"It's time for practice. I'm not having you be dead weight once we get over the mountains."

I gulp at her stern expression and nearly drop the axe she tosses at me. It's a simple woodcutter's tool, nothing like the crafted weapon Tamelan wields, but there is still a whistling when I experimentally swing it. With a rasp of steel Viridia draws her sword, sinking into a defensive pose, and I start circling, getting a feel for the axe.

I'm still surprised when she lunges, sword edge thudding against the axe's wooden haft. Backpedaling I wildly swipe at her, the clashing of iron loud in the gloom, until I feel the tip of her blade in the hollow of my throat. I carefully move as I try to control my breathing, shift sweaty hands along the handle for a better grip. Viridia isn't breathing hard, scorn on her face, and I feel an anger towards her. How dare she judge! I seize the offensive, padding forward in an imitation of Tamelan, and manage to sweep under the other woman's defence, punching the flat end of the axe-haft into her stomach. I can see her sharply draw breath upon impact, hear her leathers creak slightly, and elation fills my limbs. Her response is to bring up her knee as she straightens, catching my hip, and I drop as a leg is hooked round mine and jerked. I brush hair away from my eyes, freezing as again Viridia's sword is at my throat.

"Dirty move captain."

We both look at Behani following his idle comment, the caravan master waddling as he actually walks among his mercenaries, but he continues on until disappearing from sight behind a wagon.

"You should tie that hair back. I could have cut you open whilst you were distracted."

I nod when the sword is withdrawn, scramble to my feet as Viridia sheathes her blade, before glancing around, searching for Tamelan's bulk to rest against.

It's his bulk I cling to as the caravan travels through the sprawling Ramachi Forest. It's ancient, created by rain clouds that come in from the sea only to meet the Border Mountains and rebound, and is known as being where the pitiful remnants of Nala's overthrown predecessor made their last stand. We make good time, chills creeping under my cloak as we climb into the mountains, and soon the caravan reaches a squat tower on the side of the road.

"Nala's furthest outpost." Viridia's voice is quiet as she looks at the worn tower. "Beyond here we'll really have to work."

I pause for a moment, turning to look back the way we'd come. The Ramachi Forest stretches almost forever it seems but in the distance I can just see Tanala and the sea. A lump forms in my throat but then Tamelan is next to me.

"I too turned for a last look at my homeland lass."