So Blow Me

We made camp several pasangs from the city among the great trees of a forest. A forest in eery likeness to the one in my dream. If I was nervous for it .. I did not let the others know as we built a small fire. The fire was fueled by wood and not by bosk chips and it was not the same. It was too clear .. too bright ... almost brittle in the darkness. The shadows it cast were too distinct as they danced and cavorted on the outskirts of our camp. The noise it made caused me to be jumpy .. the crackling and snapping. The smoke was sharp and cut my senses. I missed the fires of the plains. The slow smoldering heavy fires. Fires that seemed real. Fires that had bones with flesh on. Fires with smoke that carried the scent of all I held dear to me. I was relieved it was only going to be one night I suffered such.

With my saddle as a pillow and my ground sheet to sleep within I made myself comfortable. The slave had been tied to a limb above her head .. her wrists stretched high and her shift taken from her so her dark skin shimmered in the light of the fire. But the hood remained because every time we tried to take it off she spit and snarled and screamed in that language we did not know. So we slapped her around a little and then displayed her with the hood on. She made a nice decoration to our camp as she stretched and fought the tether. Her muscles honed by fighting. At least her mouth remained quiet as long as the hood was on. The resulting picture though .. was not bad to look at.

We shared a little blackwine I had brought along and roasted some tabuk steaks that Beo had packed in his saddle bags. One of the Ubar's guard had brought along a bota of paga and passed it around. We told great lies disguised as stories and boasted of great deeds we had done or heard of others doing. Bragging and one upping each other as the night grew more heavy around us. The two Ubar's guards ... whose names I failed to learn ... asked me if I would mind them taking some recreational time with the slave. Of course I did not mind .. and granted them whatever use they desired of her. As long as they kept her hood on. I planned on getting some sleep and the screeching and screaming would not be conducive to such. They grinned and left the fires .. I heard them dragging her off a ways from camp. Beo and I shared our plans for the next day before we both turned in .. wrapping ourselves in our ground sheets and dosing off.

Almost immediately I began to dream of an ost. I could hear it crawling through the ground litter around us .. the leaves crackled and rustled as it slithered beneath. I rose and watched as it approached the slave who was bound to the limb with her arms stretched high above her. I tried to move .. to step between but I was unable to leave where I watched. Held by some unseen chains .. rooted where I was and forced to be merely a spectator in the events that followed. The slave arched and froze as she heard the ost. She seemed to know what approached for I could see her tremble and twist looking for an escape that did not exist. I heard her silent scream as the ost curled around her slender ankle and began to coil up her shin .. easing higher until it encircled the tone muscle of her thigh. The tongue of the serpent tasting her flesh ... tasting the fear and the knowledge of her own peril from her pores. The eyes that never closed seemed intent upon the prey .. as if nothing else existed. She was frozen .. except for the rapid pulse that warmed her against the reptiles scales ... except for the breathing that drove her ribs hard against her skin and lifted her breasts with a beautiful rhythm. Even as I strove to move .. to intervene ... I was captured by the enthralling.. pulsing ... panoramic scene that was unfolding before me. Even as I noticed the giant thick tem she was tied to. The tem... the tem .... THE tem. Just as the serpent drew his head back to strike ... just as her own head fell back .... I woke.