A Fall of Ashes: Chapter III Reflections of a Slave
Rape and slavery appear to be all Ashes has to look forward to.
Chapter 1, 2
The roar of the rushing stream greeted Ashes as she stepped from the enchanted circle surrounding her mistress’s tower onto the goat path leading past it. The small sharp stone jabbing her bare foot reminded her, she was still a slave, despite the robe she wore. A glance over her shoulder shocked her. Outside that circle, her mistress’s stone and mortar tower appeared to be just another piece of limestone sticking up.
So that was why no one knew where the old witch lived.
Her bare feet forced her to step with care. That trail would be trouble in the daytime with shoes. If not for that night-seeing spell, it may have been impossible for her. She watched where she put each foot.
Minutes later, long before reaching the path up to the Stallion, she caught her breath and froze. Two men pushed their way along the path toward her.
The spell the old witch had taught her for seeing was even better than she thought. Before the two men knew she was there, she saw one of the two was her suitor, Kantal, and the other, his older brother. Those brothers out hunting her was no surprise, though she doubted Kantal planned on turning her over to Case. He had been the most possessive of her suitors and the one she hoped the most she could push into asking for marriage, though he had the fewest prospects in the village.
She shivered. She understood him far too well. He would not be out here to benefit anyone but himself. He was certainly not here to save her. If she failed to back him down, he would take her as his own slave and leave the area, whoring her out. He would be a far crueler owner than Case.
Why did it tempt her so much to set the candle and robe aside and let him do just that?
A cold shiver went down her spine and her breathing became pants. Letting him take her would be far easier than everything her mistress had told her to do.
Gritting her teeth, she shoved that idea aside. She would face them. Bracing herself, she stepped from the shadows into the moonlight angling through the trees.
They spotted her.
“Ashes, you found a robe,” Kantal said, his mocking voice hard to hear over the stream. “Take it off like a good little slave and we can have some fun. Don’t try to run away again or I will hurt you.”
“Canta Tomb,” she said forcefully before she wilted and stripped as he ordered her to do.
The candle lit.
“She’s a witch!” exclaimed his brother in near panic.
Both turned tail and ran.
Relief filled her.
And disappointment.
Had he stayed firm after seeing her light the candle, she knew she would have done exactly what he told her and taken off her robe and let them do as they liked.
She understood her relief, but why was she disappointed?
As she watched both stumbling away in the darkness, tripping on roots and stones, her disappointment grew. She admitted one thing to herself: she wanted them, both of them. That was part of her disappointment, but not all by any stretch.
She looked at the candle in horror, realizing it forced her to admit she wanted both men. What else would she find out on this trip?
She now knew had been playing to lose to her three suitors, putting herself in a position that each could make her give in and let them touch her more and more often. She had to admit she had wanted to be in a position where they could blackmail her into doing things more with them, only vaguely understanding that in that position they could, and would, make her a slave instead. She wanted marriage but had never feared being the slave to any of them.
But she hadn’t understood what it really meant until Hammer tried selling her instead of keeping her for himself.
No, he didn’t try selling her; he had sold her; she admitted coming to the spot she gave him her virginity. Ashes hated to admit it, but she admired the way he had done it too; she realized. In his mind, she would be getting what she deserves for dragging it out this long.
Did she deserve it? Was that why her robe was so short now? She quashed the flame with that question unanswered, fearing what else that candle would make her face.
She looked up the hill, her breathing faster. It would be far easier being a whore in that tavern than being an apprentice. If she couldn’t fix her attitude, she might as well place her robe here on the moss and go up there naked. If she faced Case, seeing him as the man she had been sold to and who now owned her, she would never leave that tavern.
She did not need the light of that candle making her face that fact.
But she wasn’t an apprentice, even if she now knew a few spells, but a slave that might become an apprentice. Her mistress showed her that.
There must be a key to leaving that tavern, or her Mistress would have just given her to him.
Then she saw one possibility. She would not face him as Ashes Miller of Oak Well, or as Ashes, the Sorceress Apprentice. She must be, and face him as, the slave Ashes, property of the Witch of the Woods.
Ashes smiled and straightened her back. That made this robe, and its shortness, the right thing to wear. They were what you would expect on a witch’s slave. She would face Case as a slave there to get her mistress’s property.
She would succeed, or she would fail. If a slave failed to recover her mistress’s property, she would deserve to be a whore in a tavern.
Back now strait she started the climb out of the gorge.
In the dark village, all was closed, except for the Lazy Stallion.
Was it only open because men still hunted her?
Though light came out of the open back door, Ashes circled around the front. That door, too, was open with even more light streaming out.
But it was quiet. Too quiet.
They knew she was here and coming.
This was it. No running now. Heart pounding in her chest, she took a deep breath and stepped through the door.
A big man ceased her arms and pulled them behind her to a painful degree. Then hands grabbed her robe, jerking it off her shoulder. The man holding her arms at a painful angle released them just long enough to get it completely off her.
Then two men had each arm.
She didn’t resist or offer a word of protest. Once they had her naked, they brought her before Case. He grinned at her and held a leather collar up.
Putting pressure on each arm, the men forced her to her knees, then bent her forward until her back was parallel to the floor.
Case placed the collar around her neck and held it there while another man used massive pliers to put the rivets in it.
Both arm holders and several onlookers laughed when they released her arms and she fell onto her face, before she could get her hands down to catch her fall. Only tools could now remove her collar.
“Anything to say now, whore?”
Ashes raised her face, and her eyes locked on his. This was her chance. She took a breath. “By the token of magic, the Witch of the Woods sent with me to prove the message is from her. The Witch of the Woods wishes you to stop disputing her ownership of the slave Ashes. Canta Tomb.”
The candle they had set on the floor next to her burst into flame.
“Damn, she has magic,” came a voice behind her.
“It is the old witch’s magic, not the girls,” roared back Case. “Isn’t that correct?”
It wasn’t quite correct. Her own magic triggered it, but said, “Yes, Master Case.”
“By what right does she claim you as her slave?”
She thought fast for a version he would accept. “She used real magic to save my life and fix my broken bones after I fell into the rapids. As I had nothing to pay, she owns me now. Do you wish to dispute it with the town council? You would at the minimum be required to pay her for each healing spell for every bone I broke. I would not recommend deputing ownership with a witch. I learned not to.”
“Damn.”
The room went quiet. This might work.
“No, I don’t want to dispute it with her. But this has cost me money. To keep you, she is responsible for paying that back.”
Ashes relaxed. “I cannot speak for her on that, but I will tell her.”
“You will do more than that. The town council doesn’t meet until afternoon. That is when I take you before them and admit she owns you. Until then, you are my slave, a whore for my customers. It doesn’t pay back all, but it is a start.”
Ashes shuddered. She wanted to scream no! but knew she had no choice in this. “Yes, Master.”
The dozen or so men cheered.
Fear raced down her as she looked up at all those men from all fours, but so did excitement. Then a man was entering her ass and excitement became pain, and fear, terror.
Through the rest of the night, man after man used her in all three holes.
They were brutal.
When she protested how rough they were with her after the fifth, they tied her over a table and got rougher, now putting bruises on her with hands and teeth.
Dawn came, her body in agony, she cried, and still the men used her. When one went home, another came in.
Only when the sun was well past its zenith and the lunch-rush over, did Case untie her.
Agony burned in every limb, and her lower region flamed in pain. He helped her to stand, and she was surprised her legs could hold her. But she hurt, by the gods did she hurt.
“You understand, now, that you are just a whore?”
She swallowed, keeping her eyes down. “Yes, Master.”
Would he go back on his word? He hadn’t stopped at noon, and it was beginning to look that he planned to keep her. Words given to slaves didn’t count. He had kept taking copper bits to use any hole a man wanted through the night, morning, and past lunch. She hurt so much she knew because things he didn’t allow men to do to his other girls; he allowed to be done to her. It was a lesson, and she had quickly learned not to protest anything any man wanted to do.
He pulled her hands behind her and tied them, then ran a leash through her collar. He picked up the sack with her robe and candle, then the end of the leash, and led her out the door.
Agony burned in her with each step. With cruel malice, he forced her to move quickly, or fall to the ground.
Outside the building she recognized as the city building, he turned to her. “We go before the clerk now. You will admit to him you are a slave, and I, your owner.”
So, he wasn’t going to keep his word. “Yes, master, if you wish, but my mistress may not see it that way.”
From the look on his face, she thought he would strike her for saying that. Instead, he said, “That is between she and I. You will lead me to her.”
It dawned on her. He wanted to find the witch’s layer, and blackmail her with that information to keep her.
“Yes, Master.”
He opened the door to a side office and pulled her in by the arm.
Case addressed the older man seated on a tall stool behind the desk. “Master Kelton, I need a deed certifying Ashes, daughter of Jon the Miller of Oak Well as my slave. You saw the writ yesterday. This is her.”
The grey-haired old man eyed her. “You’re Ashes, daughter of Jon the Miller of Oak Well?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Are you slave, or free?”
“Slave, master.”
“Is this your owner?”
Ashes thought before answering. “I do not contest his ownership, but others may. I do not contest that I am a slave. It isn’t for a slave to decide who her owner is.”
“Very well.” He nodded, then signed several things, one of which he handed to Case. “Take this down to the stable and have him brand her.”
She stiffened.
He led her out the door, property deed to her in hand, removing any doubt about who owned her.
She should have expected the brand. Most didn’t brand slaves unless they were troublesome. Her running away qualified.
“Hello Ashes,” said the young man, working the bellows, an iron already in the coals.
After a moment to place him, Hammers’ older cousin, she said, “Hello Olie.”
“You shouldn’t have run.” He shifted his gaze to Case. “Standard arm brand? If you want the face brand, you’ll have to wait until Brock gets back.”
“No, arm is fine. Girl can die if the cheek is done wrong.”
Olie shrugged. “Iron will be hot in a few minutes, then. Let’s get her tied to the post so she don’t flinch and mess it up?”
She had to know, “Do you like branding people?”
“Sometime.”
A shiver passed through her. “Will this be one of those times?”
“Yes. Girls like you look better marked when done right.”
They tied her arms around the center post of the stable.
“Open your mouth and I’ll tie this bit in place. Try biting down on it instead of screaming. That way, you don’t bite your tongue.”
She could see it in his eyes, he liked tying that bit in place. That brought home just how helpless she was right now.
He turned and picked up the iron from the coals and inspected it. Satisfied, he brought the smoking metal toward her.
Her eyes locked on it and terror consumed her as she watched it close in on her arm.
It touched.
She screamed, then clamped her teeth firmly in the bit.
Then he pulled the smoking, sizzling iron back from her arm.
“All done,” Olie said, “A perfect slave mark.” Then he reached for the bit strap.
“Leave that,” Case said. “I’ll bring it back later.”
Olie shrugged and put his hand down. “You can keep it.”
Case untied her from the post and pulled her arms roughly behind her, tying them together at the elbows this time. Her tears continued to flow as that made her fresh brand hurt more.
“Let’s find that witch.”
***
Her tears had hardly stopped by the time they reached the moss bed.
“It would surprise you at how many girls lose their virginity here, though most don’t have the audience you did.”
He reached up and fondled her breast.
To her shock, heat and lust exploded in her.
She could hardly believe that after all she had been through, and the pain she was in, she wanted him to have her here and felt no shame about it. He pushed her down into the moss.
When he finished and was pulling up his trews, he spoke. “You were meant to be a whore. You’d be wasted as a slave to that old witch. Maybe she and I can come to an understanding.”
“Possible, but doubtful. What are you offering?” a voice said.
Just like that, her mistress stood only an arm’s length away.
His eyes widen, his voice filled with doubt. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
She cackled. “No, you wanted to use her to find my home. If you had, I would have killed you, so I decided to meet you here. What are you offering?”
“Half a gold sovereign.”
Ashes felt insulted by that low offer.
The old witch pulled a half sovereign out of her pouch. “Then that is what I offer you to sell her to me. You have just stated that is what you consider a fair offer, so you better take it. Otherwise, I might think you were trying to take advantage of an old lady and get vexed.”
He laughed, “Yes, it is a fair offer, and I will take it. I still think it is a shame, though. Girls like her belong in taverns.” He accepted the coin and started back up the trail.
Her mistress interrupted him. “The things in that sack are mine, too.”
Looking down at the sack he had attached to his belt, “I guess they are.” He pulled it from his belt and tossed it to her.
“The deed?” she asked. “You haven’t signed it over.”
“No, I haven’t. We need to take care of that in town before witnesses.”
Picking up the bag with one hand then taking Ashes leash in the other pulling her to her feet, her mistress followed Case back up the trail to Cold Fork.
People stared at Ashes being led nude through town by Case earlier. But with her mistress, it was as if people didn’t see them. With the bit still in her mouth, she couldn’t ask.
The clerk did see them.
“Back so soon?”
“Need the deed changed. She has a new owner.”
Only then did the old man seem to notice the old woman standing there.
Ashes was sure it was magic then.
“Oh, of course, name?”
The woman laughed, “Just write Old Witch of the gorge. There won’t be any confusion over who owns this one from now on.”
The old clerk grinned at that. “I guess not.”
He filled out a new deed and handed it to her.
All three left that office, and Case headed back to his tavern.
Once he was gone, her mistress removed the leash, the ropes from her arms, and bit from her mouth. Those went into the bag and her mistress gave her back her robe. “Finish the errands you have to get done. Get to my tower before dawn.”
Looking up at the sun, Ashes saw it would be well after dark by the time she got to Oak Well if she used the road. Cutting across was her only option. She touched the collar still riveted to her neck.
“That stays.” Her mistress said in a firm voice. “You won’t become my apprentice for now, though I will teach you some magic. You will remain my slave. Possibly you will stay a slave the rest of your life, never becoming an apprentice.”
She swallowed. “Yes mistress. May I know why?”
The old woman touched the still raw brand on Ashes’ arm. “In part this. In part because you faced him as my slave instead of my apprentice. When you did, you chose slavery. Yet another reason is I bought you from him. All of those say you are a slave and not an apprentice. That can change, but you would have to do something that convinces me to change it.”
She sighed. “Yes, mistress.” After the past day, Ashes well understood there were many worse fates than being the slave of a witch.
“Mesta Col,” rang the old woman’s voice with power.
The worst of her pain faded.
With sunset still an hour away, Ashes arrived in Oak Well. The first ones she saw there were Corin Hammer’s older brother and father, working their smithy.
Their father addressed her. “Heard you were dead, Ashes. Fell in the rapids. Then someone else said you were a slave at Lazy Stallion. I see the collar and brand.”
“Fell in but didn’t die. Was at the Stallion last night but have a different owner now. Where is Corin?”
“That the way of it? Why you want him?”
“He still had the dress he took off me and the thread in the pocket of it. I want both back.”
“They are back in my room,” Corwin said, stepping from the shadows. “Back this way.” He motioned for her to come by him and enter the house.
She could not believe it. The invitation wasn’t just to get that dress. If she went back there, he would be fucking her, and she would not have a choice.
“You can leave the robe out here, slave,” said the older brother.
Was it too late to run? Damn it, she should have seen her father first and had him with her when she went to get that dress and thread.
Would her mistress come for her again if someone kept her?
Ashes doubted it. Her Mistress had just stood there as Case had had her. Corwin had won again. She took off her robe and hung it on a hook in the smithy.
In the back room the two boys shared, his brother passed a leather strap through her collar, leaving no doubt that they did plan on keeping her. She made no fuss as he secured that strap there with two rivets.
Was this what her mistress expected to happen?
Almost certainly, her mind quickly answered.
Why had her mistress set her up to be caught and raped by him again? Did she hate Ashes? Was she supposed to escape and return to her?
Or was this a chance for her to belong to the guy she let have her virginity? If she did nothing, that would be a real possibility.
No, she was daydreaming that. Corin wouldn’t keep her. He would sell her, again. Likely to a tavern in Alms Ford. That she understood about him only too well, now. Not one of her suitors had wanted a wife, or even a slave girl, to take care of them. They wanted a whore they could make money on.
They would not let her simply lie there as she had done at the Stallion. Corwin’s older brother went first and made her actively please him.
Then so did Corwin.
Back and forth they went and sometimes both at once from each end. Even Corwin’s father stopped in and had her when the sun went down.
The sun was well down before the men, satisfied, slept, leaving her leashed on the floor at the foot of Corwin’s bunk.
She pictured the moonlight streaming in the window, filling the shadows, lighting the room.
“Seaos,” she whispered. Pain exploded behind her eyes, then she could see everything in the room with clarity.
It was as she thought. The rivets were not well set.
Return to her legal owner or not? Why was she even considering not?
Then the reason dawned on her; these men wanted her.
The witch did not.
To them, she was of value, but not to the witch. But she did not want to end up in a tavern, and not one even worse than the Lazy Stallion. She set to work on the rivets.
Only moments later, the leash was loose. They had barely been set. Only after she undid those rivets did she realize, they would hurt her badly if she didn’t make it out. If that had occurred to her before, she would not have had the never to remove them. Fear filled her, and she started for the door, then stopped and looked about.
She spied her dress tossed in the corner. She retrieved it, thread still in its pocket, then crept from the room. Her robe was where she left it. She slipped that on.
Everyone slept at her father’s house when she snuck in. They had to have known she was over there tied up, but had gone to bed leaving her there, anyway.
She left them sleeping, climbing quietly to the loft and slipping the dress into Pepper’s box.
The first tenuous streamers of light was in the eastern sky when she arrived at her mistress’s place.
“You cut it close. If I hadn’t quieted those dogs, you would have alerted them before you got out of the blacksmith’s house.”
Surprised, she answered, “Thank you for quieting the dogs.”
“What did you learn?”
“This is the only place I won’t be a whore.”
The old woman sighed. “Then you didn’t learn anything. Place doesn’t matter. Perhaps it is best you are to remain a slave.”