One Hundred refusals (12)

A serialised romantic fantasy

Previously… Chapter 11

“Mmmmmmm! Mmmmm!” That was the only sound poor Gema could make with her mouth tied shut. She was wrapped in ropes and a blanket, and a burlap sack was pulled over her head. Judging by the terrible rattling, she laid on the bottom of a cart, and the ones driving it were determined to move fast.

Nobody came up to her since Gema woke. She heard some men talking quietly, the horses neighed, indeed, these men made haste to leave the Citadel’s surroundings. Gema noticed them speaking with a southern accent - those men were from Avem. Birdlings. Her mother’s kin.

Oh, Cinnia, you treacherous little birdbrain!

It was her doing, obviously. Gema snorted to herself; was Cin ever her friend or was she only trying to gain Gema’s trust until the right moment arrived? That treacherous, little dung beetle! And what are they going to do now?

Gema was the Heiress of Hebeny! The nearly-crowned Queen! What an incredibly stupid idea - to kidnap the Queen! No doubt, she’ll be searched for and found soon enough! Any moment now!

But instead, she was forced to lay in the rattling bottom of the wooden cart for what felt like hours.

Finally, two pairs of strong hands carried her out of the cart, sat her down, and pulled the sack off her head.

“Mmmmm!” Gema moaned furiously. These men were not joking. Their faces were covered with scarves, but judging by their beady-black eyes those were Birdling soldiers. They untied Gema’s mouth to feed her.

“Release me this instant!” She shrieked after gulping a flask of water empty.

“Gratitude is a sentiment unknown to Hebenians, so we’ve heard,” one of them said.

“My mother was a Birdling!”

The soldiers shook their heads and laughed.

“You have inherited your father’s virtues, or should we say - lack of them.”

“Do not. Dare. To speak. Badly. Of my. Father,” Gema grunted with utmost fury. The birdlings comprehended they’ve crossed the line. The men went silent and fed Gema some bread. Birdlings were good folk by nature, poets, and healers. Rarely did they crave power. Sadly, King Olor was one of those unkind exceptions.

The men fed Gema in silence. The poor heiress of Hebeny was hungry, and she needed the strength to escape. Oh, yes, of course Gema was plotting a way to escape her kidnappers. She glanced around; they had stopped near the river, and a large dark object glared from the nearby reeds. Perfect! The soldiers hadn’t noticed it yet.

“I wish to refresh myself! Do untie me!” She demanded.

“We cannot leave you unguarded!”

“Do you wish to observe a lady empty her bladder?!” Gema asked plainly. She could feel them blush even under their scarves. The soldiers released Gema from the ropes, and blanket, and they blushed even harder, because Gema was wearing nothing but an airy white nightdress displaying her curves quite openly. She smirked, jumped to her feet, and marched directly to the patch of reeds on the riverbank. Of course, it hid her from all curious eyes, but Gema had another urgent business on her mind rather than the one she lied about. Luckily, she was able to undo the knot tying the boat to the mooring post. Gema pushed the boat into the stream, crawled into it, and sat smiling at her kidnappers running into the stream, alas, too late!

Gema, wet and free, exulted waving her goodbye to the Birdlings, while the poor men could not catch her - the current was strong, and she was out of their reach. What’s even better, Gema knew this river flowed back to the Citadel, which meant she would soon be back home without much effort. Oh, how she loved a good relaxing boat ride, despite her pathetic morning. Gema laid back in the boat, observing the blue skies. The day was hot, the air smelled of the sweet water of the river, and Gema had no doubt, she would be greeted by her loving subjects in the Citadel, to be crowned soon afterward.

She dozed off only for a minute, as it seemed, and she smiled in her dream; she saw Ash smiling at her. “I will find you, and bring you home, whatever it takes!” He said lovingly.

“Will ya’ look at that?!” A crude voice broke into her dream. Gema shrieked; this was not Ash! A bearded man grinned at her; the rotting remains of his teeth stunk worse than a bucket of dung! Two pairs of dirty hands grabbed Gema before she got the chance to escape.

“Release me this instant! I am princess Gema, I will be late for my Coronation!” She shrieked.

The men laughed so hard, they nearly let her go. They carried the struggling princess to the shore from the pack of reeds the boat got stuck in while she slept. Oh, Gema was used to gentle and joyful boat rides, usually admired, and pampered by servants and suitors, she had never been forced to use a boat to escape Birdling soldiers attempting to abduct her! Yet now she wished she’d stayed with the Birdlings. At least they would’ve never dared to grope her while tying her hands and feet with a rope, laughing all the way.

“Hey, boss! Look what we got! We’ll have fish and dessert tonight!” The crude men yelled. There were six of them, as far as Gema could tell. One thing was clear; she was doomed!

“Do not dare to touch me! Don’t! Do not!” Gema said sternly, and the look in her eyes did indeed stop the vile men; Gema was a queen from head to toes, and no one could deny it. The men laughed but stepped back, only to let their leader get a better look of her. A crude man he was, grim and burly, bearded, and toothless. His bloodshot eyes studied Gema’s curves up and down, and a dirty grin rose on his face.

“We’re in for a treat tonight, boys! Come ‘ere, lass!” It appeared the man wasn’t about to wait till nightfall; he grabbed Gema’s arm dragging her into the nearby bushes.

“No! I am the Queen of Hebeny, your Queen! Let go of me this instant!” Gema commanded, surprised by her own courage. After the curse and handling craving men, she had learned a thing or two. Except for that dimwit Sturdy, she had always succeeded at taming the wildest beasts. Most of the men gladly submitted to her commanding tone.

“Well, my Lady, I’ll be your King, and I’ll rule over your hills and valleys tonight!” He replied, causing a wave of roaring laughter from his men.

“ ’Ere! Go easy on her, boss. A fine lass, we could sell her to the nearest whorehouse, I reckon,” one of them pondered.

“Sure thing! We’d get good gold for this one, look at them peaches,” another added.

“Where’s the nearest whorehouse? The ol’ Trouser’s place, was it?”

“That’s the one. I wonder if the old bastard’s still in business?!” the leader of the robbers, for those were robbers indeed, thought out loud, whilst pulling the struggling Gema into the bushes.

“Wait! Wait! You look like a band of smart gentlemen; would it not be wise to sell me to this Lord…Trouser completely intact? I have not yet lost my virtue… You might get twice as much gold for me,” Gema spewed out the first thing she could think of. Just to get away from these crudes, she’ll figure out a way to free herself from that Lord Trouser.

“You have not lost what?” the men were visibly confused. Obviously, they hadn’t been dealing with virtuous maidens before. Or at least maidens who claim to be virtuous.

Their leader gave a heavy sight; he had more wit than the rest of them.

“No bastard has rode his horse into her garden yet,” he tried to explain. Strangely enough, Gema’s confession had left a good impression on him. The man loosened his grip and stopped forcing Gema into the pack of bushes.

“Oh… oh…” the men gasped and smirked with understanding.

“You’re a wise lass, my Lady. We are in dire need of gold. The more, the better. My men are starving, the Queen’s soldiers had chased the likes of us into the woods. Hardly can we show our faces in towns. With all that gold, we’ll move across the Lake to Autumna.”

“Damn right! Them whorehouses don’t get any better than there!” The men cheered. Apparently, they had talked this over before.

“It might be wiser to wait until the dark to take me to Lord Trouser. Meanwhile, I must request some of your clothes to hide my indecency from curious eyes,” Gema said with the most charming smile she could conjure, and that was the moment she melted the robbers’ hearts.

“A fine lass…” they murmured to each other. Not only did Gema get a pair of trousers, with a leather belt, a tattered old linen shirt, and a straw hat, but the robbers also treated her with fried fish for dinner, and a cup of wine the leader was saving for a special occasion.

“No finer meal have I ever had, and in such delightful company!” Gema flirted and smiled, and the men were awed by her charms and sweet compliments.

But, alas, they stuck to their initial endeavour. As much as they liked Gema, gold they liked more.

It was an hour after sunset, they used the cover of dusk to creep into the town, whilst the lanterns have not yet been lit. Gema hid her long hair under the hat, she walked amidst the burly frames of the robbers.

The town was small, and decent, but even the most decent towns have their dark corners, their dirty gutters, and this was no exception. Indeed, this was the lowest Gema had ever fallen. She walked barefoot through the muddy gutters of some town she had never heard of, dressed in men’s clothing, about to be sold to a brothel owner.

They walked toward an old wooden house. It might have been a fine establishment once, but now the bright paint on the façade was cracked, the gold faded, and the windows stood dark and dusty, like the sad eyes of an old whore, who had sold her beauty to the cruel hands of time. The air reeked of piss and trash, and Gema wished to be anywhere but there. Obviously, so did the man exiting the building. If it wasn’t for him, the place would seem completely abandoned. He marched to his horse, tied nearby the entrance, and rode past the band of robbers with his dark cloak swirling in the wind, without granting them as much as a glance. Neither did Gema pay much attention to the man; if he came out of a place like this, he was not worth her time. Besides, she had other more important business on her mind; how to free herself without losing her virtue or her life. She could not understand, how was it possible no one was looking for her? Did they not miss their Queen at the Coronation? What lies had Cinnia spread to explain Gema’s absence? And why?

She hoped to stumble upon some soldiers, yet she was out of luck. The robbers dragged her to the door. The signboard above it stated “Lord Trouser’s house of fine delights”. The fancy letters had seen too many neglectful years, the gold paint was barely visible in the twilight. Gema sighed heavily, as the robbers pushed the door open, and she stepped into a place she never expected to end up in - a brothel.