Fizzy was a half-step behind Glasha as the ork woman dragged her along. She watched in awe as the muscles on the tall woman’s back, shoulders, buttocks, and legs rippled with the simple effort of walking through the caravan encampment. Well, perhaps not walk, Fizzy corrected, mentally. Stomp was the proper word.
“Are you and Nicholas coupled?” she asked, blushing the moment the audacious question was out of her mouth.
“We have had coitus, if that is what you are asking, yes,” Glasha replied, no irritation apparent in her reply.
Feeling brave, she pushed. “Are you his only woman?” Her face smacked into the muscular buttocks of the ork woman as she stopped, doubling over with laughter.
“Only woman?” she roared, slapping her thighs. “That’s rich!” She paused and wiped a tear from one eye, straightening up. “Look around you, Princess. How many men do you see?”
Fizzy glanced around the people working in the encampment. Lamia guards–all female. Equios workers–all female. Bovios teamsters–all female. There were even felios servant girls, flattering to and fro, bringing meals to the resting employees–all female again. And there! On top of a nearby tree were three harpies–all three female. “Oh.” She pondered for a heartbeat. “Has be bedded them all?” She looked up at he ork woman’s face. “Forcibly?”
Glasha planted her fists on her hips. “You’ve seen him. Does he look like the type of man who needs to force a woman into his bed?” Her visage softened. “He is a careful and attentive lover,” she said, her gaze unfocused as she peered off into the distance. With a flash, her eyes returned to the goblin’s. “You could do much worse among your clan, I’ll wager.” She waved a hand at Fizzy’s attire. “Did you enjoy your tenure in slavery?”
Fizzy shook her head, her eyes dropping down to stare at the bare feet of the ork woman. “No.” She pondered for a moment. “So you are saying I should let him bed me in gratitude? Is that how he got all of these women?”
Glasha glared at her. “You are fucking daft,” she snarled, spittle flying from her tusks in her disgust. “That would be the same as rape–forcing a woman into his bed because she felt obligated.” She turned and started stomping back towards the center of the caravan. “You’ll figure it out,” she said over her shoulder. “Or, you won’t. Makes no never mind to me.” She put her right hand to her mouth with her index finger and thumb inside her lips. She gave a piercing whistle. The harpy women jumped into the air and flew down to land before her. “Sun’s setting. Do a circuit and check for interlopers before settling in for the dark.” With a nod of their heads, the harpies took to the air again with powerful backstrokes of their wings.
Glasha looked about before bellowing, “Fay!” A felios woman came scampering up to her. “Feed the goblin,” she said, waving in Fizzy’s direction. “Tend to her bruises. And for the love of the goddess, find her some clothing.”
“Yes, mu’m,” said the cat-like woman. She came over to Fizzy, smiling at her. “Carn, herb, or om?” she asked.
“Excuse me?” replied Fizzy.
Fay rolled her eyes and gave a sigh. “Your diet. Are you a carnivore, herbivore, or omnivore?”
Fizzy blinked, thinking. “I’m not sure what those words mean, but for my site, I eat anything. Fish, animals, roots, bugs–”
“Omni,” said Fay, cutting her off. She grabbed one of Fizzy’s hands and carefully drew her over to a seat by one of the small fire pits. Putting a wooden bowl in her hands, she ladled a brown liquid full of assorted chunks into it. “Stew. Mix of meats and plants. You’ll like.” Reaching into the smock she was wearing, she drew out a wooden spork from a pocket. “Eat. Stay. Be right back.”
As Fizzy began to shovel the stew into her mouth, the felios scarpered off. “Oh!” exclaimed the goblin as the taste of the first mouthful registered on her tastebuds. It was a blend of savory flavors that was quite pleasing to her palate.
“Here,” said an equios woman sitting hear her, handing her a chunk of buttered dark bread. “That makes it go further.”
“Oh!” chirped Fizzy. “I don’t mean to take food out of your mouth!”
The equios woman laughed. “You’re not. I overstuffed on some of the tender shoots of grass growing alongside the river earlier.” She winked at Fizzy. “The bennies of being an herb.”
Fizzy took the proffered bread, nodding her thanks. She looked the equios woman over. Mostly human, but her legs from the knees down were covered in chestnut hair, bent different from her own, and ended in shiny black hooves. “Fizzy,” she said, tapping her chest.
“Chez,” replied the equios with a nod. She looked Fizzy up and down. “Looks like you had a rum go of it. Some of those bruises are old.”
“I was a slave until a few minutes ago,” she murmured.
“Nicholas, aye?” Chez asked. Fizzy nodded. “Aye. He has a big heart.” She patted Fizzy on the back, her touch gentle. “You’re safe now. No one is brave enough to try to tangle with a Van t’Hof caravan.”
Fizzy nodded, chewing on a mouthful of bread and stew. Chez gave a neighing laugh.
“That name meant nothing to you, did it?” she asked as Fay returned with a brown stoppered bottle and some rags.
“No, should it?” she asked as Fay took out the stopper, poured some of the liquid contents onto the rag, and began to dab at the worst of her bruises. Fizzy gasped at the first touch, but the liquid cooled and soothed the pain within moments. “That feels nice,” she said to Fay. The felios woman nodded and kept working over the bruises.
“The Van t’Hof Trading Empire is vast and has a reputation of dealing harshly, swiftly, and brutally with any who cross them.” Chez pointed to a group of lamia at another fire. “See them?” Fizzy nodded. “Those are lamia phantoms–the deadliest assassins in the world. With a word from Nicholas or Glasha they would fade into the grasses and whoever had aroused the ire of our leaders would meet a painful death within hours.” She looked about before nodding her chin at another group. “Those there are known as ghazi. They are fierce raiders each with dozens of kills etched on the hilts of their weapons.”
Fizzy saw that each of the snake-like women had a long, curved sword by her side, each blade longer than Fizzy was tall.
Chez pointed to a small set of bovios women apart from the ones that had set up near the draft animals. “Those are taurs. I have seen them take multiple arrows and continue attacking.” She turned to face Fizzy. “Gore or trample. No weapons.” She smiled at the goblin. “You’re safer than in your mother’s womb.”
Fizzy nodded, scraping the last of the gravy from her bowl with the crust of the bread. “I see,” she said.
Chez and Fay both chuckled. “No,” said Fay, “you probably don’t. But you will. Sooner or later brigands will tempt the fates and attack.” She dabbed Fizzy’s nose with the rag and put the stopped back in the bottle with a pop. “Then. Then you’ll see.” She stood up and looked the goblin over. “Hmm, good broad breeder’s hips. No bust yet. You’ve not come into your first heat yet or one of yours would have bred you already and you’d have teats.” Placing the bottle in one of the many pockets on her shift, she landed back and stroked her lips with one hand. “I think I might have a loincloth from one of our kits that would fit you–if you don’t mind going topless.”
“Please, I’m used to being nude,” said Fizzy.
“That’s as may be, but Glasha said dress you, so dress you I shall.” With a smile, she patted Fizzy on top of her head. “You’ll learn it’s best not to anger Glasha.” She leaned in and whispered in Fizzy’s ear. “Even himself tries not to anger her!” she dropped to her knees and patted one of her thighs. “Foot,” she said. when Fizzy did as she was asked, the woman gripped her ankle, lifting the foot to look it over. “Good solid calluses. You won’t need footwear here in the Hissing Grasslands. to during this summer, at least.” She looked over her shoulder to the east where the darkening sky was already beginning to show stars. “But across the Dragon’s Spine you’ll need them sure enough.”
“I’m sorry,” squeaked Fizzy, “but did you say Dragon’s Spine?”
Fay laughed. “That’s the name of the mountain range that operates the grasslands from the Forests of Ard. We’re headed there in a roundabout fashion.”
“Oh,” said Fizzy, calming her breathing. She remembered the time her cave had been dug out by an earth dragon. They had lost half the clan before they’d retreated deeper into the rocks below ground. Dragons were among the most feared beasts in the world.
“Come,” said Fay, smiling as she stood. She took Fizzy’s hand in hers and drew her towards a tent. “Clothing, and I’ve an extra bedroll for you.” She looked at the sky with a practiced eye. “It will be a good night to sleep out under the stars,” she said. “Wait here,” she said, ducking inside. A few heartbeats later she came out with a bundle in her arms. She put the bedroll down on the ground and began holding the loincloth up in front of Fizzy. “Yes, this will fit,” she muttered to herself. Her eyes went up to Fizzy’s. Do you know how to don one of these?" she asked. When the goblin shook her head, she tutted. “If you don’t mind an intimate touch, I’ll show you.” When Fizzy nodded, Fay began explaining how to wear the loincloth. “There!” she said when they finished. “Not bad, if I do say so myself–and I do say so myself.”
Fizzy looked down at her waist. The white leather came up over the hemp thong tied around her waist, dipped down between her legs, and came back up over the thong again in the back by her bottom. It felt . . . pleasant. “Please,” she asked, “must I wear it while I sleep?”
Fay chuckled. “No, I suppose not.” She looked around and pointed. “Latrine is over yonder inside the circle of wagons.” She gave Fizzy a stern look. “If you know what’s good for you, do not go outside the circle. Slavery would be the least of what could befall you.”
Fizzy nodded. “Where do I set my bedroll?”
Fay looked around, seeming to feel the air. It’s a pleasant night. I don’t feel that it will be too brisk–and there were no clouds before the sun set. I do not fear rain." She pondered. “I don’t think you’ll need to bed by a fire. But maybe by a wagon’s wheel so you don’t get kicked in the night by accident?” She pointed over to one nearby. “That is my wagon. Feel free to pitch by it.”
Fizzy nodded and went to set up her bedroll. After a brief trip to the latrine, she lay down and tried to sleep. She berated herself for not saying goodbye or thank you to either Chez or Fay, but she was so tired. With the exception of the ear of street corn that Nicholas had bought her, this was the first time she’d eaten in several days and it made her head heavy.
Lying on her back, she looked up into the sky, noting curiously as the stars to one side of the camper began to wink out, one by one.
Just as sleep began to take her in its gentle caress, a cry went up all around the camp. “FIRE! Fire! The grass is on fire!”
