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ADAPT
VI

by: Rick Johnson
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Tucson, Az.
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RikJohnson@juno.com

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Table of Contents for Adaption.
Conversion. The arrival of Janice in Russia and the details of her curse. note: hidden until someone wants to read it.
Chapter One. Their leaving the Amazons and travels across Georgia.
Chapter Two. Their entry into the Ottoman Empire at Crimea. note: not finished
Chapter Three. Their travels within The Ottoman Empire.
Chapter Four. Their leaving the Ottoman Empire and visiting Translyvania.
Chapter Five. Their vacation in Bucharest.
Chapter Six. Their visiting Bulgaria.
Chapter Seven. Their visiting Greece. note: not yet written
Chapter Eight. Her visiting Venice. note: not yet written
Retreival. Their travels to Japan to rescue Janice's daughter. note: hidden until someone wants to read it.

Characters in these stories. Here you will find who these people and places are.

Bulgaria!

The place was so different from Wallachia. It had been conquered by the Ottoman Empire in 1376, then again in 1424 and 1446, this last being only fifty years ago and as the rulers ebbed and flowed, so did the suffering of the people. In the early days, 200 years ago, the Turks had imposed their two main punishments on a conquered people; overly harsh taxes upon anyone who refused to convert to Islam (for the Mohammadans are forbidden to levy taxes upon their own people), and the drafting of one son from every family into the Janissaries to fight for the Empire. However the Bulgars had long been a stubborn race and most remained Greek Orthodox Catholics. It was the refusal of the Roman Catholics nations to aid the Bulgar Slavs because of their refusal to submit to Rome that made the conquest so easy.

Ottomans were by far not a united religion, Islam having dozens of sects of which the Shiite and Sunni were the largest and holding to some sixteen different versions of their Koran, but when faced with outside danger, all Mohammadans united. Christians remained fractioned, each church insisting that they would not aid their ‘brothers in christ’ unless those in trouble converted to the church of those whose aid they sought. And so, because of this, the Turks had been moving steadily into Christian Europe for more than two centuries. Already they had taken: Greece, Bulgaria, Serbia, Bosnia, Wallachia, Byzantium, Albania, Crimea, Moldavia and were threatening the trading ports of even mighty Venice.

It would be easy to predict that within a few more centuries, all of North Africa, everything east to India plus Hungary, Georgia and the Ukraine would fall to the Ottoman. In short, the only two leaders who had the power to stand up to the Turks were Vlad Dracula and Tammerlane, both of who were, in their own ways, more dangerous than even Bayezit, the current Ottoman Sultan. I didn’t think that they would make much of India for the Moguls had an empire as powerful as the Mongols and both Mongol and Mogul could and would exterminate the Ottomans without effort if they felt themselves in danger. What a war that would be. The three greatest empires in the world, the Mongols of China, the Moguls of India and the Ottomans of the Near East all fighting in a World War with the Christian nations pecking at the dead like ravens.

Also the Turks wouldn’t go much past Hungary for one simple reason, they were overly extended right now and Empires that grow too fast decay as quickly. The Romans had conquered more than the Turks and yet, the edges of their Empires rarely saw Rome as a power. Rome owned Britain for 350 years and still, the British remained British holding British laws and customs and religions. Rome existed only in Londinium regardless of what they marked on their maps. The same would be with the Ottoman Empire. They could easily conquer because that was their nature and so long as Christian Europe cared more for the language of the Masses spoken in their churches than helping their brothers in danger, they would fall like wheat before the Turkish scimitars. But taking and holding are two separate things. Vlad took and lost and retook Wallachia so many times I lost count. And though Wallachia will fall again, it will remain Slavic and never become Turkish.

Yes, the Ottomans will build their mosques and impose their taxes and place their caliphs in power, but rather than change Wallachia into a loyal Turkish province, the Sultan will move his armies to the west or east or south to conquer again and forget that Wallachia exists. Until one of Dracula’s sons revolted and freed his nation.

Bulgaria preferred a more subtle form of rebellion. They refused to become Mohammadan, they paid their taxes and they gave their sons and remained, stubbornly, Bulgars. Hansel and Gretel had been taken in Sofia as children and sold as slaves, Gretel to become a sexual toy of anyone who could pay her master’s coin, Hansel being castrated so the Turks who preferred boys could have a pretty and hairless boy-child to thrust into. And despite the German names I called them, they remained both Bulgar and converted Mohammadan.

And now we were but two weeks from Sofia where I would return the twins to their uncle. No more hardship and fears for them, no more servants for me. I wondered if they would convert back to Greek Catholic or remain Mohammedan when we parted for I cared not what gods my companions prayed to so long as they allowed me my own.

begin sex scene

We were bathing in Giurgevo, a city on the Danube and the frontier. Yesterday we were in free Wallachia, today we are in Turkish Bulgaria with naught but the Danube River to separate the two. That’s what I liked about the Ottomans, the only thing I liked about them. Like the Romans, they built bathhouses wherever they conquered. The Christians believed in bathing when they were born, when they died and only when they got caught in the rain between. Mohammadans washed before every meal and bathed often, or so they claimed. And I loved a hot bath. I loved soaking in the water as my hair was washed and my feet rubbed with a glass of wine by my hand and soft candles burning nearby. It took me months to learn to enjoy the experience but, like everything regarding my curse, I first endured, then embraced it.

And tonight I relaxed. I tried to not think of Erzsebet, the Hungarian Princess who I still missed. I knew it was just lust. Lust for her body, lust for her power, lust for her ropes and whip and somehow I wasn’t ashamed of what I did with her, for her. I was a noble, a Tierna, a Baroness or a Duchess or even a Princess, whatever I chose to call myself for Irish Titles translate poorly in Christian Europe. I carried swords and earned wealth using my blade and even the Caliphs feared to anger me. Yet, with that Hungarian Princess I was gladly a slave, begging for her chains and lash. I knew I enjoyed my passion hard and rough but not until Erzsebet did I realize how much I loved violent sex. With Erzsebet, I could let go and relax, stop being in charge and worrying about getting my friends home safe. Stop fearing making the wrong mistake that would get someone hurt, stop being in control and let someone else make the decisions. And the things she ordered me to do still make me wet with desire. Had I not discovered that she was a vampire who sought to extend her life by bathing and drinking the blood of young women, preferably virgins, I would be with her now, learning the pleasures of the whip from both ends.

But I had captured her, sent her to prison and left Bucharesti. She told me that she’d be free, that she loved me still and wanted me back but I left her imprisoned as she bragged that she’d be free again. And she was. Probably returning to Hungary for the Turks would simply behead her as they did all vampires, showing no respect for her rank. Erzsebet went north and instead of pursuing, I fled south. South to Sofia and Greece to return my charges to their families. South to escape my desires for if I went north to chase Erzsebet, would I soon be sipping from the veins of Ruth and Gretel? I was afraid to find out.

“Gretel,” I asked, buzzing from the wine.

“Yes, My Lady,” she responded for though I had freed her and bedded her often, she was still my servant until we reached Sofia.

“When you were a slave to the Turks, how long were you in chains?”

“Ten years, my Lady. We were taken and sold when we were but ten years old.”

So they were still young, younger than I preferred. I had never asked. Old for still being unmarried for in Europe girls and boys marry at thirteen, have their first baby at fourteen and the women rarely live past twenty-five, usually dying of exhaustion and birth-trauma. At sixteen, Gretel would be an old maid and so well past marriage age it was only her slavery that had saved her. She wouldn’t be able to marry well but with enough wealth, she could marry decently and by deferring childbirth, maybe even live to a ripe old age of thirty-five. I was far older than that simply because I deferred having children until I was in my mid-twenties and avoided all the advice given to me by the doctors and christian priests. So now I was a grandmother and still healthy and active, my oldest living daughter old enough to have born Gretel.

The English playwright Shakespeare had written a tragedy about two kids, Romeo and Juliet, damned to never be together because their Clans were at war. And Juliet was seen as an old maid at fourteen with few prospects for marriage. Here, in this world, girls marry as soon as their menses start and pop out babies soon after. Had Hansel not been castrated for a Turkish harem, he’d have been drafted as a Janissary, taken and fighting on some war-torn frontier, dying of a sword or arrow wound before he was fifteen. Was their life better having been slaves, toys for the Turks? Or was it simply longer?

“What did you think of my relationship with the princess Erzsebet?” I asked, sipping my wine. She hesitated and I saw her brother and Ruth stare at her. She felt herself in danger now for some questions have no correct or safe answers.

I remembered my mother asking my father “Does this dress make my hips look fat?” and the man was stupid enough to tell the truth. She hit him aside the head with a skillet then ran away crying. Had he lied, she would have known and ran away angry. So with Gretel, if she spoke wrongly, she could expect a beating or enslavement and sale from any other mistress. “Dear Gretel, by now you should know that I love you dearly and wish only the best for you.” I tried to calm her fears. “I am old enough to not fear your words especially if they are spoken with love and truth together. If you speak to hurt me, that is one thing, but if you speak from love, that I can accept.”

Ruth interrupted, “Lady, we all know you love us and have risked your life for our safety which no noble would ever do for a peasant or slave. But still, you are our better and we do remember that despite all, you are the daughter of a king and we are but commoners and have no right to judge you or your desires.”

I set my glass down, reached to take her hand and kissed the palm, folded her fingers over my mark and placed her fist upon my heart. “Am I that fierce that even you would fear me?”

Gazelle looked up from her mud bath for she hated to bathe but loved to roll around in the mud and we had spent extra to have her tub filled with clean dirt and water for her use. “Janice, they fear not your wrath but your pain. They love you as do I, and they hesitate to speak lest you be hurt. So here is what they fear to say. You think too much with your loins. You seek physical pleasure as most people seek food and drink. So when the opportunity arrives to slake your lusts, you cease to think and your good sense falls from your skull to between your legs where it flows out as you pee.”

She rolled over, spilling mud onto the floor and continued, “You love sex far too much as you love women more than men. You want to be a housewife, ruling your house as a queen but as a slave in the bedroom. If a strong woman or even a strong man commands, you will lay and spread your legs for them. I saw that with Stars who was always your master in your bed and made you scream all night in ecstasy. And I saw it with Hansel and Gretel when you ask them to be rough with you in your pleasures. And I saw it with Erzsebet who never let you forget that she was in charge. You still carry her scratches and bruises and I see you stare at them often, dreaming for her control.

“It’s not the pain or the pleasure you seek, it is the control, the fact that another person wants you enough to make you want them. You cared for Yu, but he was polite and cared for your wishes so you could not love him or submit to him. But when your God took you, He never asked, He never sought your permission, He simply knew you were there for Him and so He took you, wildly, passionately and you could do naught but submit. And sometimes, you still dream of Him as you touch yourself because He did not ask but took.

“It wasn’t Erzsebet’s whip and chains you miss, it is her power and strength and the knowledge that she lusted for you so much that she simply took you in passion.”

“Then why, my love,” I asked, “did I not submit to the many who sought to rape me? That Sarmatian Khan, those men in the tavern outside Bucheresti? Why did I fight them so hard?”

Ruth interrupted, “Because, Lady Janice, perhaps they didn’t lust for you but simply wanted sex and if you hadn’t been there, they would have raped me or a waitress or a sheep? Had they made it clear that you, yourself, inflamed their lust, you would have gladly enjoyed being held on that table. To you, rape is passion, to them it was simple violence.”

I thought about this then held my glass for a refill. “Hansel, Gretel, when you service my body, do you enjoy the act or is it just something to do as you are now washing my hair and feet?” This was a question as dangerous as the ‘does this dress make my ass look fat’ question but I had to know. I loved, no lusted and admired Erzsebet and miss her still but that didn’t stop me from arresting her for I wasn’t some schoolgirl suffering my first puppy-love crush but a woman older than most and with more divorces and past lovers than was my right.

Hansel looked up and offered, “My Lady, I love you dearly, more than you can imagine and I love servicing your body in any and every way as I am now doing to your feet. But I do so because it gives you pleasure and your pleasure pleasures me.”

“Has your lack of love-apples so reduced your physical pleasures? I asked, glancing at his small penis, naked and alone since the Turks had long ago removed his testicles and taught him to shave his sparse hair.

“No my lady, I derive great pleasure,” and he took one of my toes into his mouth and sucked gently and sensually until I began to moan in pleasure. “See, Lady, this was not your womanly parts and still you enjoyed the sensations. I am the same. I cannot climax but I feel as much pleasure inside you as you just did inside my mouth even if you could not climax yourself. I derive much pleasure, physical and emotional from you but I prefer the emotional for that the Turks ever denied me as a slave.”

I sat up in the water and pulled him to his feet, he was ready for me and I took him in my mouth, trying to remember how to do that for I had only read about it, watched a whore perform the act and never myself done this before. He wasn’t large and it wasn’t easy and still I gagged until I learned to use my hand as a stop. “And this, dear Hansel, does this feel good?”

“More than you can imagine, Lady. I only wish I could give you in return what most men would give as a reward for a task well done.”

I stopped then for I wasn’t in lust but simply curious. Curious as to what he felt and curious if I could do that without becoming sick as I did the first time I lay with a man. I sipped more wine thinking the sensation of his manhood wasn’t… unpleasant. “Gazelle says I think too much with my loins but I am curious about sex and think too much when I should relax. I was married a dozen years to a person who saw sex with me as a duty to be avoided but passion with others when I was away as pleasure to be sought often. I still have children I never bore. So perhaps that is why I cared so much for Stars and Erzsebet, they stopped me from thinking and made me react and they actually wanted me. I have had too many lovers tell me that I think when I shouldn’t.”

I lay back intending to return to my oral lesson later when I had no audience for Ruth had closed her eyes and turned away in embarrassment and disgust. “Gretel, did you find much pleasure with others?”

She lowered her head and answered softly. “No my lady. I learned to pleasure men and women because the alternative was a beating and many Turks find pleasure with girls only when we are whipped and used as if I were a boy. But I never enjoyed what I did and faked my cries because that is what they wanted.”

I touched her hand then rubbed it against my cheek. “I’m sorry dear Gretel, for your pain and past. Had you told me, I would never have commanded you to service me.”

“No, Lady,” she spoke loudly, “Please never think what I did with you as a duty. At first it was and I faked it but then when I learned how gentle you were, how you cared for us and your promise to return us to our family, I wanted to give you pleasure and somehow, I learned to enjoy you and your body and my cries became real. I have not pretended with you for a very long time.”

“Thank you Gretel, that makes me feel much better.”

I finished my wine, popped a grape into my mouth and as I munched, explained, “It is three days to Timovo then another seven to ten days to Sofia, depending on how long we remain in a village or are diverted. Unless you three have a desire to remain here, we can leave in the morning.”

The assured me that this was to their liking too for Giurgevo was too much a military outpost and with so many soldiers here we had to remain together to avoid being gang-raped and robbed by the Janissaries who patrolled the streets on horseback.

end sex scene

That night I slept alone. I wanted company and could have had it if I asked but I wanted them to ask for me and they did not. The sun was up when I awoke, hungry and frustrated, even my fingers couldn’t make me feel as I wished. But the twins had loaded and harnessed the wagon and when I had breakfasted I washed, dressed and finishing my cosmetics, entered the stable to find my gelding saddled and ready. I checked the straps and buckles then smiled at my companions and after mounting and adjusting my dress led them on. Near the walls of the city we had to move aside for a troop of Janissary cavalry. Their captain would have argued with us for remaining mounted but my sword and Gazelle’s axe (a polearm berdache cut to length) caused them to simply continue on with an evil look. Even these Christian fanatics in the service of the sultan knew when a fight would be too expensive.

And so we left Giurgevo, some silver lighter but in good spirits and we sang songs to each other as we trotted the road to Timovo some twenty leagues to the south. After awhile I noticed, or rather remembered that in Ireland and even in England, we would pass a village every few leagues and all the lands between would be farms or orchards and none of the towns would be walled. Innis, where I was born had no walls and I could walk in any direction and find another town, village or hamlet within two hours. But here, the wars had burned them all, destroyed the farms and those who survived barricaded themselves behind high walls. Part was the wolves and dogs that hunted the area seeking prey that the Turks had already taken, and part was the soldiers who felt taking a farm’s produce and daughter or son was their right, but mostly it was bandits driven by desperation to hunt the roads for prey.

We stopped for lunch then pressed on until we found a stream where I decided to stop for the night. Deciding where to stop was always a compromise between how much further could we travel before dark and would we find a place as nice as this. In this case, location won and as the twins unpacked, Ruth sent away all the bugs so we’d not awaken covered with ticks and Gazelle dug a wallow in the water as Ruth and I unsaddled, hobbled and brushed our horses. When Gazelle was done, we could toss sand in and have a bathtub of cold water for ourselves so our trips were often very comfortable.

I had loosened my vest when we heard horses so I took my katana and motioned for the twins and Ruth to move to the wagon. Turks saw women as fit only for a harem and the Christians thought but little better so it was always a good idea to be prepared. In this case, I was right for a dozen Janissaries rode into camp with drawn bows. “Ruth,” I cautioned. “Almost, Lady,” she answered as her mind sought the horses.

Half of the soldiers drew on Gazelle, the rest on us as their leader said, “Drop your sword!” I did so at my feet and he continued, “We don’t allow whores in the Empire. You!” he pointed to me as he dismounted with drawn scimitar, “You expose your breasts like a quarter-drachma whore. Is that what you charge for a blow-job?” His men laughed and he continued, “And the Jewess dresses like a man. Both of you need to be taught a woman’s place. That thing over there, I’ll mount it’s head on my wall and take your servants as my slaves. Maybe they can be trained to be decent people but you two need a good whipping before you service us all.”

“Whenever you are ready!” He thought I was talking to him but Ruth concentrated and their horses began to buck and rear throwing their riders to the ground at her mental command. I lifted my foot to toss my katana to my hand where I caught it, drew and cut, opening a more polite mouth in the man’s throat. Then I moved into the rest as Gazelle burst from the water and within seconds, those we didn’t kill had been trampled by their own horses.

“Calm them please,” I commanded, then as the horses settled, I asked, “Are there any more?”

She closed her eyes and turned north and after a moment said, “No more, Lady.”

“Good! I’d rather not have to fight half the Empire. Hansel, Gretel, strip their horses as Ruth and I strip the bodies. Gazelle, can you find a place to bury or hide the dead?” She ambled off into the forest as we began our gristly task. With only a dozen, it was clear that these were acting without their captain’s permission and would be seen as deserters unless their bodies were found. Fortunately, none were armored wearing only their clothes and carrying naught but bows, arrows, scimitars and an occasional shield. They obviously came to rape, not fight so I began to toss their clothes onto the fire but kept their jewelry and coin separate.

Gazelle returned and said, “There is a place, a crevasse where we can toss them and cover them with stones.” She then picked up two and with Ruth and I carrying one and the twins another, we followed to toss our naked burdens into a shallow crack. It took three trips as together, Ruth and I weighed but little more than one of the men and no matter what the bards say, a woman is only two-thirds as strong as a man so what he could carry easily, we struggled with but it was finally done. We collected rocks, branches and brush and soon had the grave hidden, then we returned for their weapons and tack.

I chose the best of their weapons, two bows, all their strings and arrows, a knife for each of the twins, two shields and three scimitars, then we buried the rest under the stream. None of those were worth taking as most were notched and battle damaged in keeping with the poverty of these drafted men so we had the best of the lot. Their saddles and tack we stashed away where they could be eaten by whatever lived on leather. Within a minute Ruth had summoned the first of the bugs to their feast.

Then we all examined the ground, one after the other and covered the tracks and blood that the others had missed, each ensuring that all the clothing had been burned to ashes, then stirred and reburned. Soon, we were satisfied that all evidence was gone and we were safe so I had Ruth direct their horses south along the trail then east to the sea, having her make them run as if they were seeking to get away fast. “Good work! Their tracks look like they stopped here a moment then continued on. If we are questioned, we saw them, they stopped then left and ran away as deserters. Such a thing was not uncommon so we should be safe.”

“Now for a bath if Gazelle is done?” I asked.

“Lady, shouldn’t we leave quickly?” Ruth was nervous.

“Where else can we find such a nice spot? No, these men wouldn’t have told anyone where they were going or why for fear of arrest. Not for rape and murder but arrested for desertion. I don’t think we have to fear them being followed for at least a day and by then, we will be in Timovo. Please keep watch as I wash this blood from my skin and dress.” And with that, I undressed and carrying my dress and katana, bow and quiver I walked naked to the stream. I lay my Sarmatian bow and quiver handy for this was a much better weapon than the Turkish weapons. Even made for a woman, it had more range and power than any of those carried by the Janissaries so I felt comfortable with it by my side.

A little scrubbing and the blood was gone from cloth and skin so I laved my face and neck and arms then hung my dress to dry as I donned my shift for the evening.

Dinner was subdued as only Gazelle and I were relaxed, both having done this often enough in the past. We did what we had to do and would live with the consequences so why worry. Gazelle was soon snoring and I covered myself with my second blanket and fell asleep against her warmth as the twins slept in the wagon and Ruth probably didn’t sleep at all.

In the morning, we awoke and I donned my dress, shivering as I settled my breasts into my cold bra. The original had been made for me by some Chinese seamstresses along the Silk Road more than a year ago and patched and re-patched then duplicated a half dozen times since and this one was wearing thin. Next stop I’d have to find a good seamstress and have her measure and make me another set or three. With my ample bosom, running or riding without support tended to make my breasts ache so I was willing to pay well for the support.

I think that the only thing Ruth and I shared was make-up. She dressed in man’s clothing on the trail as she found it more comfortable and practical than a dress. I wore a floor-length dress and vest because I had no other choice. I was cursed and dressing like this was a part of it though I quickly grew to admire what the lines did to my figure. Gretel wore too much cosmetics when a slave and so never wore any now so as the twins packed the wagon, Ruth and I applied our lips and eyes, combed and adjusted our hair then we mounted and rode on.

That evening we stopped in a small hamlet and rented rooms from a farmer. He sent his sons into the barn to sleep and we had their room in the loft which Ruth cleared of vermin before we settled in. Gazelle slept in the barn with the horses for the house was too small for her bulk and the twins slept by the fire-pit which was warmer than the room and bed Ruth and I shared. Ruth settled into my arms and was soon asleep but then, she didn’t have fantasies of me as I did of her so I spent the night wishing she’d wake up and touch me but afraid to initiate love-making myself. These times, nights were cold so many were the people who shared beds for warmth and I wondered how many slept as fitfully as did I.

In the morning, we supped, readied our wagon and horses, paid the farmer and left and by nightfall saw the walls of Timovo.

Timovo had seen too many years of Turkish rule so had settled in and was fatalistic. There weren’t as many soldiers here as up north so the people were more relaxed and I soon found a seamstress whose work I liked. As my companions settled us into a nearby Inn, I talked to the woman who owned the shop, “This is a brassier. It is designed to support and confine my breasts so they don’t bounce about as I walk and ride. See how it is designed with cups and straps? Can you duplicate this for me? I need the inner lining soft but the outer strong.” She looked at the thing with interest for most women were far smaller than me and grew to near my size only after nursing a house full of babies and by then, the damage was done and they could rest their bosoms in their lap as they sat. My firmness and size astonished her and she took careful measurements as her girls watched and giggled.

“Like this,” I said and placed her hands under my breasts and lifted a bit to allow her to feel their weight. “As you can see, I am as firm as a much smaller child and this bra helps me to remain that way. This is why a well-made article is worth whatever I must pay.”

She was embarrassed for women never thought of any support, preferring to use their vests to bind themselves flatter, not wear something to enhance size and protuberance. But I was proud of my breasts and wanted them out there to be seen and admired, not bound as do the Japanese to prevent growth. I just wish fashion allowed me to show my legs and ass but the full skirts I had to wear concealed a host of thighs and hips even though I worked hard to make my figure slim, tight and a pleasure to look at.

“My Lady Baroness, if you would return tonight for a fitting, I believe we can have these.. bras.. for you by tomorrow noon.” She wasn’t thrilled with touching my naked skin, especially the naughty parts but silver makes many a person willing to do unpleasant things. I wished that Elena were here for that Georgian Seamstress would make them perfectly and relax me in her bed afterwards. But I make do with what I have.

As is often the case, I paid triple the room rentals for Gazelle but the night was spent with no untoward incidents. I returned for my fitting, made a few suggestions then left the women to their work. The common room of the inn held a compliment of everyone in Timovo. I saw Turks who felt that Mohammad’s prohibition against the grape didn’t apply to them, Bulgars, a couple Greeks and the usual compliment of whores trying to make a living but none of which, male or female, I saw as attractive. So, soon after eating and finishing my wine and Gazelle her beer, we retired for the night. I did find myself drinking more to break up the fatty foods than to get drunk though and spent the night alone with my fingers as Gazelle snored on the floor on her hay.

We toured the city in the morning but found not much of interest save Ruth visited another synagogue while we looked around. After lunch we visited my seamstress and I had my final fitting followed by a few minutes of minor adjustments. Then once strapped in, I jumped a bit and pronounced myself satisfied with the work and paid for my purchases.

Ruth watched me do so then, “Lady Janice, I’m not comfortable with you pointing out like that but that support seems to be comfortable and .. well, might I try one?” She asked, blushing.

I laughed and handed her one and helped her put it on, lacing the front, then I had to stuff he thing with scraps of cloth to fill it out for she was so much smaller and saggier than me. She wouldn’t look at herself but when she walked, she commented, “I don’t bounce or anything. This is much better than a vest that mashes me flat and restricts breathing. Can you make me some too?”

I felt like when my daughters and sisters wore their first bras and began to dress like a woman, sad and proud and embarrassed all at once. “If you have the materials, how long?” I asked the seamstress.

Silver flashed in her eyes and she answered, “Lady Baroness, we have a few of your first ones we can easily adjust. Perhaps an hour?” So while they sewed, Ruth and I tried on dress after dress to kill time but saw nothing much I liked save another traveling dress. Finally she was fitted and laced up and looked at herself in the mirror, “I look funny," she said.

“Put your shirt on over it,” I suggested then as she did so, she said, “Much better, but I feel like I’m tied up and can’t breathe and I stick way out there now.”

“That is normal and you get used to it. The advantage is that you don’t ache when you run or ride.” I said then paid the seamstress and we left to finish our sightseeing. “We’ll stay the night and get an early start towards Sofia and Ruth, stop playing with your bra and stand up straight.”

“It’s uncomfortable and binds me. I feel like someone wrapped a rope around my chest.” She complained. “All the men are staring at me.”

“Think of the difference between your baby boobs and mine. I have the same binding but more weight pulling my shoulder straps. It’s like anything else, you think of the comfort and decide if feeling uncomfortable around your chest is worth the support or if you want your ribs free but your breasts to hurt when they bounce. Mine are still firm because I wear this thing. And mine don’t ache at the end of the day because I wear this thing. Be happy you have such a small chest.” I admonished.

“Small I may be but this bra makes them look huge. Yours are so firm they look the same clothed or naked.”

I looked at her and tried to see her as an outsider and noticed that in town she wore a hat or headdress with a veil that fell to below her chin, a veil she would raise to cover her face when talking to strangers. Her clothes were layered and she wore pants under her dress and now that she had the support of a bra, her dress no longer hung properly, being made for a woman with small bust that was bound even smaller. It occurred to me she always wore some kind of headdress, even on the trail when wearing man’s clothing. And then, she wore long sleeves and pants to cover all but her face and hands. Her jewelry was gaudy, earrings, and necklaces and ankle bracelets to show wealth not to accent her attributes as I wore.

I remembered from the Jews I knew in Ireland, most wore Irish dress and followed Irish customs though on religious holidays, they all covered their heads. Something about god not wanting to see their bald spots? Or women must cover their heads in temple to be humble? “Ruth,” I asked, not comfortable with talk of religion for her ancestors burned mine with the same joys as do the Christians today. “You cover your head and face and body because your god tells you to?”

“Partly. Mainly I cover my head as a sign of humility to God. The veil and rest are simply modest attire. I am uncomfortable showing my face to strange men. I suppose that if they don’t know what I look like, they will be less inclined to kidnap and rape me.” She explained. “I never met a Witch before and I don’t know how many of your ways are decreed by your god or how many are Irish or what are simply because you are who you are?”

I laughed at this and said to her, “We Irish are not so divided in our classes as are the christians. We remember that if I am a bad Tierna, a bad Noble, I can easily find myself in a peat bog with a rock tied to my ankles. We Irish rule at the whim of our people, not by the grace of god as do yours. I dress as do most Irish women though some wear men’s clothing or woman’s versions of men’s dress for comfort. We Irish are a race where our men listen to our women, or else! I recall when my father came home drunk one night, I watched my mother berate him as a drunkin sot. He struck her, which no Irish man would dare do so she backed off and waited until he passed out. She then sewed him into the bedsheets until he couldn’t move. Then she poured cold water on his head to awaken him and as she yelled to be released, she beat him near to death with a skillet. Then with the sheets red with my father’s blood she went to bed and said she’d talk to him in the morning. When he awoke, she told him that he was much stronger than was she but he had to sleep sometime and then he was hers and cut him free.”

“And you father, I suppose never drank again.” She offered.

“Goddess no! He still drank, only he never touched her again and was never impolite to her. She would simply raise a spoon and he’d back down like a whipped cur. We Irish are a race of warriors and our women are bred to be as dangerous as our men.

“As for clothing, my God and Goddess care not what I wear or with whom I sleep. They care only that I try hard to be a good person.”

“A wondrous and strange nation to breed a woman like you I wonder how the English were able to take you nation. And your temples? What of them?” she asked.

“Most of our nation is Roman Catholic. As even your own people, mine were Pagans who prayed to many gods. Then many became Celtic Catholic but Rome asked to debate our Bishops to see which church held the truth and when they met in peace, the Celtic priests were massacred by the Roman Priests and their soldiers. We have Jews as are you and these are accepted and live as do we, the same jobs, the same taxes and the same schools for we do not oppress your kind as do the rest of Europe. Our people are literate in many languages, our own Gaelic and the English of the Brits. My ancestors also spoke Danish and could read and write and speak in all three as we do today.

“But I am pagan, a Witch, as was Alyce Kytler a hundred fifty years ago. When the Christian priests burned my people in Europe, Dame Alyce had her Priest arrested for accusing her for we are a tolerant race who allow all men and women their lives if they would allow us ours. I pray to Herne, the Horned God with whom I occasionally lay, which gives me an advantage over my Catholic Aunts who are still awaiting their marriage night with the dead christ and I’ve had my night twice. You see, we Irish are a poor race and give half our children to the church that they may find a job of some sorts. I also pray to His Consort the Lady of the Moon and Their Daughter Aradia. But when I pray to Them, I do so in a Temple made of Stones placed in a Circle or a grove of trees and I do so naked for my Gods dearly love the sight of a beautiful body. Other than that They tell me to live a good life but expect me to know what that means and my Gods have more important things to do than watch over my dress or dinner plate or who I bed.”

“My Lady, you are a strange woman from a strange nation with strange ways but you bring out of my soul and body things that I never questioned before. You make me feel things I never could before and I am stronger for your words for before you, I saw my ability to control animals as a curse to be hidden. You taught me that it was a gift to be cherished. Yet, unlike the Christian Priests or the Mohammedan Inmen, you never asked me to pray to your god and for that I thank you. You accept me as a Jew and I love you for that.” She kissed me on the cheek and I wished she had chosen my lips.

We toured some more and then she pointed out some people building a house, “Lady Janice, those are Sefarades! I met some in Temple today. When Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand drove the Moors from Spain they decreed that all must pray to their Christ or leave the country. Those Jews who left were forced to leave behind all their wealth which was taken by the crown. Some remained to become Catholic but those who were faithful and remained Jews went to Portugal or here where the Ottomans welcomed them but their wealth they left behind.”

I responded, “I’ve heard of this Torquemada who convinced Ferdinand and Isabella to do this. His mother was a Jew and he hated her blood that flowed within his veins so he believed that by burning his mother’s people, he would buy his way into heaven. He did so by burning thirty thousand of your people to grease his path to paradise. Few escaped and these Sefarades are the lucky ones.

“He is little different from Innocent VIII who my people call the Vampire Pope for despite his preaching of celibacy, he sired at least sixteen bastards and sucked the blood from at least two young boys to prolong his own pitiful life. It was he who authorized the monks Sprenger and Kramer, Dominicans as was Torquemada, to turn the Inquisition from heretical christians towards Witches. He is finally dead and I hope he burns in his own hell for the evil he started.”

She looked at me and asked, “Lady Janice, you hate the christians?”

How could I explain something as complicated as this to her. The christians had harassed her people for centuries and would do worse to my own because of Innocent. “Ruth, the Ottomans have conquered so much only because the christians fight amongst themselves. Dracula was excommunicated by the Greek Church for dealing with the Catholics. Hungary refused to aid him because he was Greek Orthodox. Martin Luther is catholic and burns my people as happily as he burns Protestant and Jew. I lost my children as catholic priests slandered me in their church and turned my own courts against me. I see much evil and little good in the followers of the dead christ who tells people that the will of your god who said ‘thou shalt not kill’ applies not to them. Do I hate them? Sometimes Ruth, I do for I have seen the evil they do in the name of their god.”

“Lady, men do evil, God wishes only good.” She said.

I snapped back, “Then your god should remove his blinders and stop those who do evil in his name for a god who allows such evil when he has the power to stop it is not fit to be worshipped. And your own King David burned to the ground the Temples of my Goddess so your people were no better than the christians.” Then I stalked off for I had no desire to debate the dichotomy of evil with anyone today. Torquemada and Innocent were evil and their god encouraged them to do such evil. Martin Luther, who saw the evil of the church was damned to do equal evil himself for he refused to see the truth, that peace and love were the rule and one should love people, not kill them. But they all thought, “love the sinner, hate the sin and kill any who argue. Even Adam had cursed Lilith for daring to seek pleasure in their love-making.

She caught up with me before we reached the inn which was hard for I walk fast when I am angry to burn off my anger. Still, I entered a shop and lay my swords on the counter, tossed a bag of coins to the owner and ordered, “Touch not my steel but take what money you need.” Then I took a pot from a shelf and, screaming in anger, threw it against the wall. I smashed pot after pot, screaming my frustration over my lost children, my lost lovers, my lost lands and home and life. I cursed church and state alike in Gaelic and finally, when I was done, I fell to the floor exhausted in mind and body, and sat among the ruin I had created and cried. I felt arms about me and tried to shake them off but Ruth held me tighter and cried with me until I was done.

Finally I stood and returned to the owners and told them as I took my swords and poured my money upon the counter, “Take as much as you need to pay for the damage I caused.” They quickly took about half my purse as Ruth wiped my eyes clean. “Lady Janice, I am sorry for your loss. I wish I could take away your pain or give you a reason for it but I cannot and can only say that I love you and promise to never hurt or betray you.” Then she kissed me, this time on my lips as would a sister. But that is what I needed so I hugged her and cried some more. Then I turned to the owners who still cowered and said, “I apologize for my anger. We Irish are a passionate race and must occasionally set free our angers lest they consume us or others. Here, take this extra as my material apology for the fright I gave you,” and I slid over a few more silver Drachma. Then I turned and left them to clean the mess I had made but I was certain that what I had given them easily covered twice their inventory.

We left the next morning and over the next few days traveled west along the road that runs from Sofia inland to Varna on the coast. Along that road, built well by the Turks who build excellent roads for the same reason as did the Romans, to move their armies quickly, were many towns and an occasional city. Unlike the towns off the roads, those on the Varna Road all had inns despite their small size for an inn requires 2000 people to support it or it fails from lack of customers. A tavern can exist in a town of 400 but a bookseller needs at least 6300 people to feed him and his family. Fortunately the Varna Road was well traveled for Varna was a large seaport on the Black Sea and Sofia a large city inland so goods traveled freely. Every fifteen leagues was a small town or village and each had at least one inn and two taverns to give rest to the weary traveler. Every five leagues was found a camp site with water and paddocks and often a small house or two for use by those who had no tents so our journey was easy and relaxed. We slept in these rest houses, often shared by other travelers, sometimes alone. As we rode, we were rarely out of sight of another person and Janissaries patrolled the road seeking bandits to arrest to make life safer. Often they would stare at me for my hair and low bodice and weapons but after a quiet comment to their comrades and a leer, they would continue on.

One can say many bad things about the Ottoman Empire but they enforced religious tolerance and encouraged trade and free business. I would like to say they did this because of love but the truth is that the Ottoman War Machine was expensive to run and the wars of conquest in Europe, Asia and Africa cost too much for the Sultan to pay and so he decreed and enforced safe business only to pay the taxes he needed to finance his wars. Unlike the Christian nations which passed laws to oppress Jews who they saw as the killers of christ, thus forcing the Jews into the only business possible, banking, the Ottomans allowed Jews the same rights as anyone else, so long as they paid taxes, that is.

We were passing the time talking as usual when Ruth asked, “Lady, you rant against the stupidity of kings and priests yet are you not yourself a Queen? And is it not the duty of priests and kings to rule their people as a father rules his children?”

“Ruth, dear, does your father love you?” I asked.

“Of course he does and so do I love him.”

“Then, why, my dear, are you here and not back in Wallachia to care for him?”

“He doesn’t understand me. He wants to marry me off to some old fat merchant to increase his own wealth. Were I still a virgin and possessed not this curse of controlling beasts, he would have an easier time of it.” She was obviously bitter.

“But dear, if he loves you, is he not trying to do what is best for you? And if you loved him, shouldn’t you obey him?”

“He loves me but he doesn’t understand me. He never did and I must find my own life.”

“Exactly! Look at that nest in yonder tree. Father bird impregnated mother bird who lays eggs. They build a safe and comfortable nest for their young, they keep the eggs warm and when they hatch, they feed them and protect them and teach them to fly but one day the parents tell their babies, “You are grown, now get out and live your own life.” And they push them from the nest and let their young live their own lives.” I pointed out.

“I didn’t give life to slaves whose duty was to obey my every command forever. I raised children who I loved and my task as parent was to feed them and protect them and to teach them all that I could, but someday, I knew they would leave my nest and live their own life apart from me. So I did the best I could, taught them the best I knew, gave them wealth and encouraged them to use it well but once they became adults, I let them fly free.

“When Hansel and Gretel were enslaved, did their owners love them or use them? When I freed them and am returning them to their family, is it because I own them or because I love them? Too many parents treat their children as slaves. They forget that they were once children themselves. I love you Ruth as I love Hansel and Gretel and despite my obvious lusts for your bodies, I wish the best for you all. So I try to teach you as a bird teaches a fledgling and when the time comes, you will leave my nest and I can only hope that I have taught you well enough to live a good life.

“Kings and priests are the same. The best give advice and allow their people to live as they choose. But most command and treat their people as slaves. They think that because they are noble or anointed by their god, they are somehow better than everyone else but they aren’t. I am no better than any of you. It is only because my ancestors owned a better sword that made me Noble and only because they paid an army to repress revolt that kept me Noble. Kings pay armies to keep them on power on pain of death, priests stay in power on pain of damnation. And both use whatever stories they can invent to encourage people to obey without question.

“Dear Ruth, think back to the beginning. Who were your first parents?” I asked

“My father was Abraham and his father was…” she began until I interrupted.

“No dear, long before those. The very first of all?”

“You mean Adam and Eve?” she asked.

“Yes, Adam and Eve were the ancestors of all Jews and Christians and Mohammadans. But not of pagans. Was Eve Adam’s first wife?” I queried.

“No, Lady. Lilith was first but she was driven from Eden for being a demon.”

“And, Ruth,” I insisted, “Why would god allow a demon into Eden and why allow a demon to marry his ultimate creation? The christians say that Jews killed their christ but what do you Jews say? That it was the Romans who killed him? That you are blamed for a crime you did not commit? The same applies to Lilith. As the christians tell lies to justify their abuse of your people, so does your race tell lies to justify their abuse of my own.”

I took a drink for my throat was dry and continued, “The Goddess was First of All Beings and She had many children, all of whom were Gods themselves. Some, like Herne, the Horned God she took as Consorts, some like Jehovah, she took as lovers. All left her nest as they grew older and lived their lives. Jehovah built for himself a garden and made Adam, the first man, as a servant to give him praise for gods ever need the prayers of men as men need food.

“But the Goddess made Lilith, the first woman. And Lilith complained that she was lonely so the Goddess sent her to Eden to meet and love Adam that both would be complete. And here is where it gets interesting. Adam was made to worship Jehovah but Lilith was made to love the Goddess. Adam was a servant to god, Lilith was a beloved of the Goddess. And so Lilith was independent and had her own will. Adam insisted that she be submissive and Lilith insisted that she be equal and so they fought and Lilith left Adam and Eden and made her way alone, independent.”

“As do you, my Lady?” added Hansel.

I smiled at him and said, “Something like that. Adam and Lilith were both lonely and so Jehovah put Adam to sleep and made from a rib Eve who was compliant and submissive to the will of her master, Adam. But Lilith had no one so she prayed to the Goddess who taught her a spell to create life. So Lilith made a man from clay and used the spell to give him life and they loved and had many children. So today you Jews and Christians and Mohammadans are said to be the Sons of Adam and we Witches are said to be the Daughters of Lilith.

“But here is the important part of the story. Adam and Eve were created to be submissive to god, to never question, to always obey. But Lilith and her mate were created to fly free, to be independent and to question everything. And this is why churches and synagogues and mosques encourage slavery in their worshippers but Circles demand freedom and independence of us.

“Your father, Ruth, cannot help but treat you as property. He loves you dearly but he is the Son of Adam and must use you and demand absolute obedience as Adam demanded of Eve. I love you as much as he does but I am the daughter of Lilith and so know that you will someday fly free and so I can only prepare you for your flight and send you free with a kiss.”

Hansel asked, “Jews and Mohammadans see your loving a woman as a sin as do they see eating pig. Does your Goddess have rules too and do you break them as casually as do all men?”

I was so proud of the boy. He actually had the guts to ask a hard question when but weeks ago he’d listen to me and never question any of my commands. “Dear Hansel, Jehovah made Ruth and gave her the gift to command the beasts of the fields. How can that be wrong? Allah gave you the gift of love for your sister and for me so how can that be wrong? We are as our gods made us so if we are true to our own natures and seek to do good and spread love, how can any gift our gods gave us be wrong? My Goddess gave me the desire of loving women and the ability to love men so how can that be wrong? She cares not if I drink wine or eat swine or love women nor did She care that I bedded her Consort and her Daughter and were She to appear, I’d gladly bed Her for this is how She made me. I submit to the will of my Gods BUT, My Gods expect me to figure out for myself what Their will is. So long as I do not oppress others, I figure I am doing well.

“So I allow Ruth her life for to tell her to not use her gift or to live as she wishes would be oppression and slavery and the Goddess sent Her Daughter Aradia to Earth to free us from slavery. And I don’t see any difference between chains of iron and chains of guilt or chains of law. I kill only when necessary and let others live their own lives as they will if they give me that same consideration.”

“So, My lady,” Gretel chimed in, “Your Goddess made you to be a lover-of-women and if you forced yourself to stop and love only men, you would be unfaithful to your Gods?”

“Love is the highest law. I prefer women and that is ok. Ruth does not and that is ok. Were I to force her to my bed, it would be rape and that is wrong! My father loved to drink as do I and that is ok, but he allowed drink to control him and that was wrong. Sultan Bayezit’s thirst for power and conquest is wrong. Prince Dracula’s thirst for freedom was right. But Dracula’s methods, cruel as they were, were wrong. It’s not your desires that are bad, it is how you express them.” I added.

Ruth almost turned away, “Then, Lady, The Princess Erzsebet used whips and ropes and chains on you. She caused you pain and you still show her marks and bruises. She hurt you! She abused your lovely body and you let her! You begged her to beat you! How could that be right?” She was so angry with me. Did her father beat her as a child? Was she forced to submit to his belt, terrorized in the night? Is this why she is with me, to escape beatings from her father and possible beatings from her future husband?

“My dear Ruth, Whatever consenting adults do is well and good. Yes she beat me and yes I asked her to. I begged her to do things to me that you don’t want to know and I loved it! But here is the truth, my dear. I asked her to and I enjoyed it and that made it fun and acceptable to the Gods. When that Turk beat Hansel and Gretel and castrated Hansel, he didn’t ask them if they enjoyed it. He didn’t care and so their suffering was an abomination to all gods. At least any God who is worthy of worship. What their owner did was evil and if I met him I’d kill him for the pain he caused them. But if Erzsebet were to meet us on the road, I’d beg her to tie me up again. One is consensual, the other is not. The fact that I love women is acceptable ONLY if she reciprocates and is not forced. The fact that you love men is acceptable ONLY if he reciprocates and is not forced. The fact that I loved being whipped is acceptable ONLY if I consent and were I to whip Erzsebet or any other would be acceptable ONLY if she consents. Hansel and Gretel are adults and what we three do together is acceptable only so long as we all agree and you may have noticed that I do not order them to my bed, I ask. Were they to refuse, I’d still pay them their wages and I’d still return them to their home and I’d still love them as I do you.”

I touched the scratches on my breasts, healing now and no longer painful, thinking of her. Were I a Christian or a Jew, I’d be damned forever for my desires and Ruth could not wrap her brain around this one fact, that we are as our Gods made us and no one can judge the desires of another.

Further argument was prevented by a woman’s faint screams and Instantly Gazelle and I left the road with Ruth and the twins following soon after. “Where?” I asked, lost.

Gazelle listened for she could hear a flea fart on a dog a league away. “There” and she ran with me following. For all her bulk, Gazelle could outrun a horse and any bush or sapling that got in her way was trampled underfoot so her trail was easy to follow. Soon, but not soon enough we found the girl, or rather her remains. Gazelle was walking around, listening, searching and I had my bow ready and sword loosened. “Nothing, it is gone!” Gazelle said as our companions arrived. They looked at the girl then emptied their stomachs and I wanted to follow. She was naked, her clothes in rags where they had been ripped from her body. One breast was gone and her throat was torn out as she lay there on her back.

“Janice,” Gazelle said. “I smell the stink of magick. Much evil magick. Whoever did this wasn’t normal.”

Damn! Why am I always involved with this. When I was born, my Great Aunt, The Witch of Innis visited and said that I was doomed to do great things in the service of the Gods. Doomed she said! Was this the service They wanted? To kill vampires and prevent human sacrifice? To stop things like this? I wanted to yell to the sky, demanding a clear message, fiery letters in the sky written by a lawyer to avoid misunderstandings but instead I knelt to the body and buried my feelings. I had work to do and grief could wait.

“See here, her clothes were ripped from her body by claws. No animal does that. They use claws to kill and teeth to strip. She was raped, brutally! You can see her virgins blood and his seed still leaking from her and the insides of her thighs are scraped as if something rough had rubbed her raw as she fought. Between her legs is the stain of blood and semen to show she was raped here and her bladder voided when she died and that shows she died as she was raped, not before or after. Whatever did this, used claws to rip her clothes from her body, then it raped her and tore her throat as he violated her. When done, it started to eat her but we interrupted.”

I took a blanket and lay it over her body. “I see no tracks in the meads other than ours. I’ve seen wolves kill sheep and cattle and deer and I’ve seen tigers kill people and saw the horrors that man does to man but this is different. A wolf or dog or any other animal would snap at her legs to bring her down then tear her throat and eat her entrails. It wouldn’t rape her or rip her clothes from her body. A man would strip her then rape her but not kill her like that.”

I leaned against the wagon and looked in the distance. “In Africa are legends of Leopard Men. Men who change into leopards to kill. But these are stories only for they are but men who wear the skins and claws of dead beasts and pretend to be leopards to terrorize and rob. Mayhaps the same is here? Mayhaps a man who pretends to be a beast to cover the tracks of his insanity.

Ruth rode to the top of the hill and cried, “A village yonder. Maybe a leghe away. Someone there may know who she is.”

We rearranged the gear in the wagon then wrapped the poor girl in our blanket and loaded her, carefully, into the back and headed for the village. As we passed through the fields, people stopped working and followed. From the looks on their faces, I knew that we were not the first to return with such a burden. Once in town at the square, I waited for the crowd to settle at our appearance and then called out, “I am the Lady Janice Obrien, Baroness Innis of Ireland. My companions and I were traveling to Sofia when we heard a scream and upon investigating, found, …” I let my voice trail off and eventually someone came forward to look inside, then he cried out, “It is Bogdana!” A couple women began to cry but none collapsed so I asked, “Where do I take the child?”

“Her parents live in a farmhouse there, I will guide you.” And he climbed on top next to Hansel who took him where he led.

The farm was small and the father and brothers came from the fields as we arrived, the mother and sisters looking then falling to the ground crying in grief. Peasants generally have children simply for cheap labor because every son they bear is one less hired hand to pay, yet despite this they often loved their children and the loss of one would not be missed but would be mourned. I never knew what to say at these times and never remembered what people said to me as my own children died or were taken from my arms. I just let them cry as we removed her blanket-covered body, the blood soaking through, from the wagon and laying it before her family. I didn’t want to make a promise I couldn’t keep but I did want to hunt down he who did this to her. To make him suffer before he died. My ancestors were head-hunters and I wanted his head hanging from my saddle.

Finally, I couldn’t think of anything to say so turned and left them, still screaming their grief in the dirt. “Love, we must find rooms for tonight. I wish to find and kill he who did this.” Neither Ruth nor the twins said anything but I knew they agreed. I had killed many men in my life. Sarmatians, Japanese, English, Irish and others too numerous to name. Few I enjoyed killing, most I did because I was forced to but this one life I would enjoy taking.

The village had no inn so we took rooms with the headman who rented us a house whose occupants had died recently. So with our horses settled in and our gear unpacked, we began to ask questions. As often was the case, most of the people were afraid to talk to me because of my position and my weapons. Eventually I was able to convince them that I wanted to help to which the headman laughed, “You! A mere slip of a girl! Better you return to your father and seek marriage to a man who can protect you!” At which time I simply sighed, took his hand and twisted it into a wrist lock which caused him to scream like a girl as he fell to his knees in agony.

“First of all I am NOT a mere slip of a girl, I am an Irish noble and a warrior of some renown. Thus you will refer to me as ‘My Lady’ or as ‘Lady Innis’ or as ‘Baroness’. Second, I have made a career out of killing everything from soldiers to bandits to vampires and have done so effectively so I need no one to protect me. Third, the fact that I wear a dress makes no difference in my abilities. And finally, I intend to make every effort to hunt down and kill the man that murdered that poor girl and you and your village can help me with information and leave the fighting to me or you can stay out of my way and I’ll hunt him the hard way. It is your decision.”

I hated doing it this way. In Ireland we respected our women, or at least, feared their wrath. Here, they had suffered the Turkish harem attitude too long and saw women as chattel. But I was attracting a crowd and the sight of a 125 pound girl holding a 200 pound man with almost no effort as he screamed like a baby caused the crowd to break out in laughter.

I looked around and asked, “It is unseasonably hot now, can someone fetch me a cold beer to drink? Oh, excuse me, I forgot I was holding you.” I then released him and brushing off a barrel, sat down and waited my drink as Gazelle approached.

The crowd backed away and I called out, “A bucket of beer for my companion if you would please. Now, come forward and tell me all that you know of this attack for from your attitude as I entered, my news was neither unexpected nor the first.”

At first they stood with cap in hand and looked down and away but when I took my first drink and belched, someone laughed and another said, “Lady Baroness, these attacks started a month ago. First was poor Andrei attacked as he walked from his fields after sunset. The thing was a man as a beast and tore his leg terribly to the point we thought he would die. He lives only because he struck at the thing with his walking stick and drove it away.

“Then not a sixday later was Stefan attacked and torn near limb from limb. He had a knife with which he drove the thing away but later died from his wounds.

“Another sixday after that the thing attacked Irina as she bent over to pick herbs for her meal. It tore her dress and I fear to relate, it abused her as if she were an animal herself. Then it tore at her shoulder and ran away as her screams attracted aid.

“Four days after that it broke into the house of Gavril and Marta and killed their young child, still in the crib, taking the body with it. We found the gnawed bones the next day.

“Nothing was heard until four days ago when it attacked, violated and killed Todora and her child as they returned home from late confession with the friar.

“Two days ago it did the same at the home of Dragomir when it broke in killed Dragomir and violated and killed his wife Ana and ate them both after tearing her belly open and consuming their unborn child as she watched.

“Now today, the attack upon poor Bogdana. Lady Warrior, we have sought help from the caliph but he cares not for our misery. We are not soldiers and the ones who passed through just ate our food, drank our beer and abused us as cowards and worse. They did nothing for us but, Lady, I think your womanly desires and soldierly ways may feel the compassion needed to assist us in our plight.

“Please, My Lady Baroness, if you have the ability to rid us of this fiend, please help us and all that we have shall be yours.” By then he was crying and all were on their knees praying to me to give them aid, the aid their taxes were paid to buy but did not.

I finished my beer and called out, “A guide! I wish to speak to those who saw the beast and those who survived the attacks. Gazelle and Ruth, will you take to the scenes of the attacks and I shall listen here.”

I first visited Andrei who was the first known attack. He was sitting in his house, half drunk and his leg still bandaged though there was little infection and no gangrene as would be expected. Taking his tankard from him, I spoke, “I am Lady Innis who hunts the thing that attacked you. Tell me your story that I may be armed with knowledge as I am with steel.”

He didn’t want to talk but I kept asking, giving him a look down my dress and between my exposed bosom and the beer he had drunk, he finally began and once started, didn’t want to stop.

“It was terrible, I cannot sleep a wink because of the incident. I was returning home after a visit with my dear friend Martin with whom I had shared a flagon or two as we discussed matters that concern only men. I was passing through the woods, woods I had traveled a hundred times in my life when I heard deep breathing. I looked around in fear but saw nothing but a man standing in the darkness. He called to me, ‘Are you Andrei of Karalovo town?’ When I answered to the affirmative, he asked to walk with me a ways for he feared the bandits in the woods. I thought nothing of it and we walked for some time, saying nothing. Then the moon came out as we passed an open glade and when I turned to look at my companion, I saw that he had the face of a beast, covered with hair and sharp teeth. I was terrified. Never had I seen such a sight and I screamed and ran. I never turned to look but felt it’s teeth dig into my leg and pull me down so I rolled over and struck at it with this same walking stick I now need. My blows made it angrier and it growled at me until I forced it away. It ran then I forced myself to rise and stagger to town where I told my story.”

He finished his beer in one gulp, belched and forgot to wipe his mouth so I poured him another. “Your attacker. He spoke to you in Bulgarian?”

“Yes Lady. Bulgarian. But with a foreign accent. And he growled as he spoke.”

“What did her wear as clothing?”

“His dress was normal, but he wore a vest of wolf-skin. Of that I am certain.”

“Normal dress? As my dress is normal?” I asked.

“I don’t understand, My Lady. You wear a dress as should any woman, but he wore pants and a shirt.”

“What I mean is, my clothing is Romanian, not Bulgarian. But it is normal for a High-Born woman in Romania to dress this way when she travels. Your attacker. Did he dress as a peasant or a noble or a soldier? Was his clothing worn or new? Tell me about how he dressed.”

“His clothing was … normal. He dressed as a man in normal attire save his vest. I am but a simple peasant and never see nobles so know not how they dress.” He was confused and between the month between his attack and the beer he had drunk, I would imagine that most of his story was suspect and enhanced to make the story more exciting.

I pressed on, “He called you by name. Isn’t that unusual? Do you get many strangers here?”

“No Lady. I wondered at that myself but all in Karalovo know each other and we all know the nearest villages.” He was getting drunker and the effort of thinking was making his head hurt so I thanked him for his story and left.

I then asked my guide, “The girl, Irina? The one who was attacked and bitten. I would speak to her now.”

We found Irina washing tables at the inn. The building passed as an inn but was little more than a house with a few tables out front where men congregated to drink and pass the time of day. I sat at one and told my guide, “Give us privacy please.” When he left I called her, “Irina, may I speak to you please?”

She looked at my dress and attitude then came over, curtseyed and said, “My Lady, we have nothing yet to serve. My mother is still cooking and my brother is in the field so the beer is still untapped. Perhaps in a few hours…”

“I didn’t come here to eat or drink, I want information to help me stop what hurt you.”

She panicked and looked around then shook as she stammered, “Nothing happened. I made it all up. I didn’t see anything.” She went on like that for a few minutes, denying everything in her terror. I let her run on for awhile and noticed how the men looked at her as they passed. She wasn’t ‘pure’ anymore and they didn’t care if she sold herself or gave herself or was taken, the only thing that mattered was that she had sex with someone other than her husband. Small towns were like that. Marry the girl as soon as she bleeds and hope she never enjoys sex but bears sons until she dies before twenty-five. All she could do now was to pretend that nothing ever happened and hope that someone will overlook her … situation and take her as a wife. Life here was hard and unfair but she had to live with it, not me.

I lay a silver drachma on the table and said, “I’ve been attacked myself in my life. I lived and went on. If you want to talk and help me stop him, find me when I am alone or with my friends and I will listen.” She reached and took the coin in her rag as I released it. She now had more wealth than she could spend here and I hoped the combination of cash and a willing ear would convince her to talk.

Until then I’d visit the relatives and friends of the dead and see what they could tell me.

For the most part, the interviews were a waste of time. The only people who saw what had happened were one man seeking fame and one girl seeking anonymity.

Ruth finally arrived and joined the twins in setting the house up for the evening. No one said anything about the attacks and so the conversation was about useless things such as the quality of the beer, where the twins found some meat and what kind it was.

Finally I burst out, “Why are you all avoiding the situation? This isn’t like us.”

Ruth was the one who spoke out, “Lady Janice, This is different. I am told you have fought raiders and bandits and rescued people from kidnappers. You destroyed a nest of ghouls and I even helped you destroy that nest of Vampires but this is different. That thing didn’t just kill people, it raped and ate them. I’m afraid that I won’t sleep with the thought of these crimes.”

“Do you think that we should leave then?”

“Never Lady! Whoever is doing this must be stopped. But, he scares me so. I wasn’t as scared when we entered that nest of vampires near my home.”

“Gazelle?” I asked. “What are your thoughts?”

“I’m not afraid. My kind have no fears of predators once we learn to walk for we are larger than they who would eat us and my kind do not harm each other. This thing, man or beast or both is smaller than am I and my hide is very thick so it can chew and claw at me all it wishes until I stomp it into mush. I fear for you though. I don’t think that any of you should be alone. Not even you Janice.” She admonished.

“Me? Why worry about me?”

“Because, Janice, whoever this is is getting stronger and bolder. The attacks were at 6 days, 6 days, 4 days, 10 days, 2 days and 2 days. I think that there was an attack during that 10 day lapse that went unnoticed, maybe two. The first three attacks were not immediately fatal yet the rest were and two of those were double attacks. Be very careful, Janice. You may not be as powerful as you think.”

I thought about this and decided that she was right. I’ve been getting over confident lately. Because I always won, I was imagining that I was immortal. That’s why I entered that tavern in Bucharesti alone and was almost gang-raped. Those vampires in Ploiesti were almost winning until Gazelle saved me again. “You are right, love, I will be very careful.”

I tried to think and could come up with nothing. “I see no other pattern save the increasing frequency and violence of the attacks. Nothing to indicate a lunar phase or time of day, nothing to imply a day of the week, nothing to indicate a type of victim. The only thing I could find was the attacker had an accent that shows that he wasn’t from here. But we all have accents too and Hansel and Gretel are from only a hundred miles away so the attacker could be Bulgarian or Turk or even Irish. He could be peasant or noble or soldier. All we know or certain is that he is a man, has an accent and at least once wore a fur vest that may be a wolf-skin. But people remember what they want and their memory changes with time and attention.”

The door creaked open then and almost closed, then finally Irena entered, afraid and hesitant. She looked like she’d run if someone sneezed so I asked, “Hansel, would you please go and fetch us something to eat?” I added in Turkish which I hoped that Irena couldn’t speak, “give us some girl-time please.”

This girl had been attacked, bitten, torn and brutally raped and once the shock had worn off, her friends and neighbors had decided to blame her for the crime. ‘Perhaps she enticed and teased the rapist’ they would say. But she was still only a young girl, abused and terrified.

“Please, sit,” I asked as I handed her a glass of beer. She was shocked at this because Nobles never are considerate of peasants. “I understand you are scared, we have all been there before so we understand it’s not your fault. So sit, sip your beer and relax. When you want to talk, we’ll be here to listen.

Gretel prepared our bedding while Ruth and I adjusted our gear, giving the girl an occasional smile. Ruth eventually approached her and whispered, “The Lady Janice is a remarkable woman. She saved me from a gang-rape in Bucharesti and destroyed a nest of vampires in Wallachia. If she wishes to stop the man who hurt you, she will with your help.”

The girl started, “It wasn’t my fault. I’m a good girl, or I was before… I don’t know. I was picking herbs, for dinner. Leeks, fennel, whatever I could find when I heard something. It was breathing but before I could do anything, someone jumped on me from behind. I fell forward and … he ripped my clothes,” she was crying now as the memories flooded back. Ruth held her as she continued. “He, … he forced me. I was on my belly and couldn’t move or see and he… He stank like a wet dog and growled and bit me on my shoulder, see?” She pulled her dress off her shoulder and showed us the scars. I touched them gently and looked carefully.

“I heard yelling and then he got off and ran away. They covered me up and brought me home but…” We let her cry in Ruth’s arms. “Even my mother blamed me. My father said I must have teased him. But I didn’t. I’m a good girl! I was…. I never before…” She needed to cry and to understand that she wasn’t at fault so I let Ruth and Gretel comfort her until she was in control again. Eventually people would forget, she’d meet a nice boy who would accept her past and they’d eventually marry. Or she would take the silver I would give her and leave to start a new life elsewhere. But not until I found out what was going on. We had two living witnesses and this was getting stranger and stranger all the time.

After she left I said to the others, “No man bit her. Those marks were teeth but the teeth of a dog or wolf. But Andrei said it was a man. He didn’t get a good look but was certain that his attacker was a hairy man who growled. I think we should map these attacks as we did the vampires.”

Hansel arrived with dinner and added, “Those who know Stefan said he described his attacker as a big man, hairy and smelling as a wet dog but it had rained soon before he was attacked and everyone stinks when wet, especially if they wear fur clothing. Everyone that is, My Lady, but you who bathes often.”

“What of the injuries Stefan suffered?” I asked.

“The man bit him terribly about the neck and shoulder. He was bleeding bad when he stumbled into town. He spoke of his attack and how he injured the man with his knife and drove it away. But the bites were strange. Not a man’s and not an animal’s either.” Hansel explained.

I paced a moment saying, “Interesting. The first attack was against a man with a walking stick and Andrei drove the attacker away, injuring him. Six days later he attacked Stefan and was injured again. It took another week to heal. Then he switched to Irina. Was it because she was convenient or because she was a helpless woman, unarmed? Then a child, left alone. May be one or two other attacks, we don’t know, then another woman and a child. Then still flushed with Theodora’s attack, he breaks into a house and kills a man, then his wife who probably sat screaming in a corner as her husband was killed and finally Bogdana, another unarmed and helpless girl.”

I took a drink of beer, repressed a belch as unladylike and continued. “Perhaps he attacked men because they were convenient but discovered that men fight back so switched to women as easier prey. Look here, all the attacks are in this area east to north to west. Nothing south or southwest though. I wonder if we searched the northeast, we will find one or two bodies.”

“No Lady,” Ruth added. “No one has gone missing who is unaccounted for. If there were any additional attacks, it would be a visitor like us.”

“This road that goes to the north-northeast goes to the Varna Road. Maybe merchants? Then Andrei says his attacker had an accent. So he was from out of this area. Hansel, Gretel, ask around for people with an accent who are hairy and own a wolf-skin vest. I think the vest is a common denominator. He seems to wear it a lot and it stinks enough for three victims to remember. Mayhaps he is a hunter of wolves who has been driven mad enough to emulate his prey.”

Unless the man was increasing his attacks again, or frustrated by our interference, I believed that we would have a couple days before the next attack. I wanted to be out there, as bait, but not helpless as were the others for I would be armed with good Japanese steel which had drunk the blood of many others, men, beasts and creatures of the night. So far I’ve never known anyone or anything I couldn’t kill and I foresaw this as being no different. Despite Gazelle’s concern, were it as powerful as she thought, it would be preying in town, on men and would not have run off from us.

I wanted to walk and see the land by night and asked Ruth to accompany me, “Gazelle, will you follow at a distance to watch over us. And Hansel & Gretel, remain indoors where you will be safe.” Then taking a bladder of water and some cheese and bread and sliding my katana through my belt to a ready position, we left the house and walked along the road towards the forest. For all her bulk, Gazelle could walk silently if she chose and once aroused, nothing would stand before her so if we were attacked, the chances were that we’d be much safer than anything or anyone that attacked us.

I wanted to walk north and east, away from the river and soon were in the woods. We walked towards Andrei’s home in the woods and saw the place locked tight and lit from within. The only sounds were of a normal single man preparing for sleep so we moved on seeking the house of Gavril. To the east was a bit of walking but their house was empty, the wreckage of their lives still splattered with blood. I had no desire to enter and decided to head south to Stefan’s house. After too long of a time Ruth, who had been quiet the entire time, asked me, “Lady Janice, What is our purpose here? To be bait or to see if you can discover anything that we had not?”

“I don’t want to be locked up. I feel helpless when I am inside and my prey is free. I feel like it is hunting me. This way we can see how the land lies, where to go to flee or fight and it works off my excess energy by pretending that I am doing something. Are you afraid?”

She leaned to me and said, “Never when you are near.”

I would have taken her in my arms then but we heard a horse push through the trees and I stood before Ruth. “What is around?” I asked.

“Horses, I cannot tell how many. Owls, birds and martins seeking rabbits. No wolves or dogs.”

A man approached us on horseback with two others at his side. They stopped near and looked us over in the moonlight as did I to they. What I saw were men of means but not nobles. No silver ornamented their tack or clothes though their leader carried a straight sword and his followers carried sabers which they held at the ready. I could see all wore beards but when the wind changed, I smelled only the usual dirt and sweat that accompanied every christian who believed that bathing was unhealthy. I looked carefully for a vest but the one I saw was obviously woven from wool and not even sheepskin or wolf-skin. It didn’t prove their innocence but neither did it prove their guilt.

We stared at each other, the men being interested in me as are all men, three men and two young women and nowhere to run. So to change their thoughts, I spoke out, “I am the Baroness Janice Obrien, Lady Innis and this is my companion Ruth. We are out for an evening’s walk. What about yourselves?”

The men bowed to me but didn’t dismount though the companions did look at each other and waited to take their lead from their friend. That man released his sword and apologized, “My apologies, My Lady. We are hunters from a lodge to the east. We were out seeking game to hunt upon the morrow. Perhaps you would care to join us?”

I didn’t like his tone which said ‘if you were a peasant, you’d be on your back under me now but Noblewomen never travel alone so I will be polite until I can be certain your guards are away.” I saw no bows and knew that I could easily kill all three even if they were mounted, my katana had been developed for fighting at a run or from a horse but his straight sword was made for a stand and hack fight.

“No thank you, for I am no hunter to speak of, preferring other sport. But perhaps tomorrow I shall visit you at the lodge?”

“Of course, My Lady. I trust your guards are nearby for there are stories of a beast that roams the woods. Of course, these are stories of peasants told to scare their ignorant fellows into remaining indoors for I have been here more than a month and have seen nothing more dangerous than a hare.”

“Yes, my bodyguard remains close but hidden for I prefer to not be bothered by witnesses were I to choose to partake of… my sport.” At those words he and his companions looked around. Doubtless they were seeking horsemen or armed guards but Gazelle had dark skin and was invisible in the trees.

We stared at each other a few moments then he smiled and called out, “Then, with your leave, My Lady, I shall hope to see you anon.” And he turned his mount and the three rode away.

“Did you sense dogs or wolves?” I asked Ruth.

“No, Lady. I don’t trust those men. They kept staring at you with lustful eyes.”

“They also kept looking for my bodyguards. I think that we are safe only because they didn’t know if we were alone or not. All three appeared to be hairy but none wore or smelled like a dog’s vest. Christians rarely bathe so if one wore a stinking wolf’s vest from habit, the stink should be in their clothes and skin. Come, Irina lives nearby. Let us visit her house then return to ours.”

We walked a ways then Gazelle came to us and said, “Those men followed you for a bit then left when I made a noise to show you were not alone. Be careful Janice, there is more here than you think.”

I hugged her and said, “Thank you my love. I know I seem reckless to you but I wonder if those men were seeking other victims or searching for information as to the killings. Or maybe they are simple hunters with a taste for young girls to warm the earth under them and totally unrelated to he whom we seek. Tomorrow I want to explore more for we are fast approaching time for another attack.

When we returned to the house that had been given to us, we found the door locked, a good sign and so I pounded and called for my servants who quickly answered and let us enter. “Thank you my dears for remembering my orders and ensuring your safety. I would be heartbroken indeed were harm to come to you two.”

They beamed at me for my praise and so I let them return to their own devices while I attended my toilet and then sought my bed. Thinking aloud, I mused, “Those men we met tonight were hairy but most men who shave not are so. None wore a wolf-vest or smelled like one. I think these are simple hunters seeking tonight game that cries in their arms and finding none, returned to their lodge. I want to see them in the light. Hunters see many tracks that we will miss.” And so I stretched my tight muscles and asked for supper.

That night after dinner, Gazelle wandered off to look at the moon and stars which she did at times. Sometimes she would watch the sun set, then turn to watch the moon rise and I would wake at midnight to see her still outside, staring at the moon overhead and I knew she had followed it throughout her entire travel. When that happened, I’d often go to her, watch the moon and stars and again fall asleep against her warmth.

begin sex scene

This night, Ruth had a couple extra glasses of wine, more than her usual one. Perhaps it was the stress of the killings which does strange things to people. Maybe it was something else but as I cleaned up for the night and Gretel made my bed, she blurted out, “can I watch?”

I turned to her and asked, “Excuse me, I didn’t hear that clearly?”

She looked down and mumbled some more then turned red and started to turn away when I took her hand and asked, “What’s wrong?”

She was even more embarassed and gulped her wine and said, “Nothing my Lady. Forget it. It was nothing.”

Something was going on but she obviously wasn’t comfortable telling so I refilled her glass and returned to my toilet, trying to ignore her, yet keep her in sight.

She fiddled with the laces on her shirt for she was still wearing man’s clothing as more practical in the field than her long Jewish dress but made no move to leave for her own room. I could see her staring at me and at Hansel and Gretel but she’d look away when she saw us return her looks. Finally, I felt I had given her enough time to relax and sat next to her. “What is the matter? Are you ill?”

“Yes,” she whispered, staring at her feet and folding her hands in her lap.

I placed my wrist against her cheek and imagined I felt her lips caress it but that was my imagination for Ruth was a Jew and her kind stoned women such as myself who loved other women. I could feel a warmth there so felt her forehead but no fever at all. She still wouldn’t look at me so I took her hand which was very sweaty and asked, genuinely concerned for her, “What’s wrong? You don’t feel warm but your palms are clammy and your cheeks flushed. What illness betakes you dear?”

She whispered, “an illness of the soul. I am a horrible person for my thoughts which make me ill to my soul but not to my heart.”

I lifted her face to mine and leaning close, brushed my lips across her cheek and imagined hers on mine as I spoke into her ear, “My dearest Ruth, be as your god has made you and let him care for your soul. You care for your heart and let me care for your body.” I wondered if she needed some willow-bark tea for her warmth or maybe rest in a warm bed for a few days. It had been years since I had to care for my own sick children and here, I had none of the tools I felt I needed. I felt her ears then her forehead again and looked into her eyes to see if they were red or large in pupils. Then she shocked even me as she whispered, “I am a horrid person, for these months I have heard you and watched you carefully as you stroke yourself to pleasure. I’ve copied your movements and felt that God has abandoned me for my lusts even as my body craved my own touch. I am ashamed for my sin.”

I laughed at her and hugged her crying, “Dear Ruth, Without lust most of the people in this world, including myself and my own children would never have been born. The fact that my lusts concern my own sex only stops me from overpopulating the world. My Goddess tells us to take pleasure in our rituals and our selves and so long as none are harmed, She sees nothing wrong with what I do. I think that if your god hates your pleasure, then he needs to burn a bush to speak to you more clearly. Save that, assume that he cares not so long as you are a good person.

“Now, is there someone special you like? Some boy in town that has caught your eye?”

“No, Lady, nothing like that. I just….”

“Then what,” I asked kissing her hand.

“I want to watch you,” she whispered, embarassed. “I am evil for asking or wanting. You are a Noble Lady and I but the daughter of a Jewish merchant who isn’t even a virgin.”

I stood then, not knowing so deciding to ask, “Dear Ruth, all these weeks and you could have had that or anything you wished. I dream of your eyes on me as I am with another. I think of you as I stroke myself to climax,” I was caressing my breasts under my blouse now, feeling them hard and erect under my bra. Then I leaned over, giving her a good look and asked, softly, “Anything you wish, I will give tonight. Gladly. Tell me your desires that I may please your eyes and ears.”

She wouldn’t look at me but whispered, too softly, “you… with them.” And she turned even redder than before.

Well, what an interesting turn of events. Before I was always fearful of someone seeing me for fear that they’d laugh at my antics but now I wanted to put on a show for her, to give her all that I could. So I called, “Hansel, will you please move a candle by the bed and Gretel, please refill Ruth’s glass and leave the bottle for her.”

I slowly moved around the room, knowing that in a few more days, I would lose my servants, the lovers of my body and that made me sad so I determined to enjoy them to my best tonight and allow Ruth the same pleasure should she so desire. I banked the fire and extinguished the candles, leaving the room in a romantic dimness by firepit and candle, then I called to Gretel. When she arrived, I kissed her, tenderly, softly then did the same for Hansel as I turned my back to Gretel. I pulled her hands from my hips and moved them to my breasts and as she unlaced my bodice, I leaned forward to continue to kiss Hansel yet allow Gretel’s hands the freedom to undress me.

Then I stood and my dress fell to my feet, leaving me in my bra and panties. I was wet and wanted more, now, hard and fast but for Ruth I suffered, taking time. I sat Hansel in a chair, not knowing what to do next. Both first or he then she then he again? What would Ruth enjoy most?

I knelt to Hansel, and encouraged him to unfasten my bra, revealing my breasts. Then I knelt there, my hands behind my back as his hands caressed them until I could take no more. I rose and offered my breasts to his eager mouth and moaned as he suckled one then the other, his hands fondling, kneading and driving me insane. I wanted him bad but forced myself to push him away. “Wait,” I croaked with difficulty.

I undressed Gretel, her skin naked of hair and kissed her, long and hard, using my tongue as would a man use another organ. Then as she moaned, I let her pull my panties down and I sat back on the bed, pulling her face down. She quickly enjoyed the juices her brother had engendered in me and I saw Ruth watching in the darkness as I grasped my own breasts and screamed in climax after climax. Wanting more but remembering that this was for Ruth, I pushed her down and, upon my hands and knees, motioned for Hansel as I returned to Gretel what she had given to me.

I was happily exploring her lower lips, seeking her hidden woman when I gasped as Hansel entered me, forcefully as I enjoyed it. I felt his hands entangle themselves in my hair as his hips slammed against my buttocks again and again, almost making me forget Gretel. But she was too far gone and pulled my head back down.

My head was a war between Hansel who strove to pull it up by my hair and Gretel who fought to force it down and with my help, Gretel won. I buried my lips in her sweetness as Hansel brought me to climax then I gave Gretel what she needed and our cries shook the walls of that hut.

Knowing that Gretel was exhausted for awhile I pushed Hansel, forcing him out but I knew that when the Turks had removed his manly cherries, they gave him a girlish body and the ability to remain as a tree for hours though he could not climax as would a man. I pulled him to his feet and raped his mouth with my tongue wishing I had something to thrust into his other areas then, panting, I fell to my knees and took him into my mouth, tasting my own juices on his manhood, licking and drinking them all, for they were mine as was he.

Now, my own fingers between and within my lower hairs, I relaxed and gave him what I had given to no man before. I ignored the desire to gag as I took him deeper into my mouth and then I heard his own moans of pleasure. Sounds he had never before given.

The time was right. I pushed him to the chair and mounted him, impailing myself and riding him as I forced my breasts back into his eager mouth. Another climax and I was almost done, but not quite. I stood, hearing that delicious sound as he left me, pulled him to his feet and then lay back, pulling him onto my waiting body. Again I gasped as he entered and at first, I wrapped my legs around his hips, matching his motions until I was near, then I straightened my legs, wrapping them around his ankles, tightening my woman’s opening to increase his pleasure and to force my hidden girl against the base of his manhood. I wished he had hair against which I could rub but had to make do with what he possessed and soon I was screaming in pleasure, arching my back to force us both into the air. Finally I could take no more and grabbed his cheeks to stop him. I needed to relax or I’d get no sleep tonight and be unable to ride a horse upon the morrow.

A couple minutes with his weight pressing me down, feeling him grow soft then as he slid out, regretfully, I kissed him and whispered, “Please leave me alone with Gretel and Ruth.” And kissed him again as he kissed me back and left.

I stretched for he had given me a workout and seeing Ruth still in the darkness, called for Gretel and as she lay with me, we kissed each other tenderly for some time, touching each others breasts and then sliding our hands below. As our kisses matched the strokes of our fingers, first one then the other would climax, neither at the same time, our hips grinding against each other. Finally Gretel asked, “Please, Lady, I can take no more.. I will pleasure you as you wish but I am far done.”

“Then my dear, take to your own bed for I fear were you here, I’d ravish you all night.” And I sent her away. As she left to her own room. I lay on my side, my naked body covered with the sweat of all three of us and I called to Ruth, “Are you sleepy yet?”

“Yes, Lady, but I’m afraid.”

“Then come, let us embrace and sleep in each other’s arms as sisters.” And I held my arms to her.

She came to me, hesitantly, and removed her clothes which I noticed were undone already and slid her shift over herself, then she handed my mine which I donned and she crawled into my bed for warmth for the nights were cold. She turned away from me and stiffened as I moved close to press my breasts against her back and lay my hand across her waist so I whispered into her ear, “As you wish, my dear. As sisters or lovers, you choose.”

She held my hand with hers, squeezed and did not move it either up, down or away so I squeezed her back and fell asleep myself, waiting, hoping but content.

end sex scene

I awoke with Ruth in my bed, holding me tight and doubtless she was cold and needed my body to warm her though her presence caused me to wish other things. Unfortunately, before I could pursue these, alone or with a companion, Hansel arrived with breakfast which I ate with relish for I was near to starvation.

Once fed, washed and dressed, I approached our landlord and asked, “Last night I met three hunters who told me of a lodge to the east. Where may I find that place?”

He tried to evade my question but whenever a man does that, I am as a boar, single-minded and prone to break past all barriers. Finally he spoke, “Please, Lady Innis, go not to that cursed place for it is haunted with the specters of the dead.”

“I find it difficult to believe that the specters of the living may haunt anything and it was men I saw last night. Speak to me of the place for I go today and would go knowing what dangers I may face.”

“My Lady Baroness, please I beg of you.” He tired to escape but I held him firm and so he spoke. “Lady, that lodge was built before the Turks overran my country. It was built by a wealthy noble who dearly loved to hunt. During the day he’d hunt the deer and wolves that lived here but at night he’d hunt the girls of our village, leaving them sobbing with his child when he and his men had finished with her. Then strange men rose up and attacked the lodge, killing the noble and his servants, leaving their bodies to the wolves that he had hunted. Now, to this day, it is haunted by the ghosts of that noble and his men.”

“So, this noble hunted the deer you wished to poach and raped your daughters until your village rose up and killed him and all witnesses. And to escape your crime, you pretend he was evil and that the place was haunted. Well, that was long ago and I doubt that any then are alive now so it concerns me not. Where do I find this place?”

“East, Lady, across a stream the and road and another stream. A branch of the road curves to the lodge. There is the lodge and many buildings but we have not been there since the… event. Please, Lady Innis, go elsewhere for your needs.”

A few more details and I left him, crying, terrified for my revenge against them for killing a noble but I was different from these Eastern men. I had no trouble killing an unjust noble any more than I had trouble loving a peasant so saw their murder as justified and would not report them or punish them for their deed.

I gathered Ruth and Gazelle and we mounted our horses and rode east to the hunter’s lodge seeking information. The first stream was shallow then the road which was little more than a cleared path and one that had ferns and other vegetation in many places to show it’s lack of use. Somewhere a trail led from this road to the lodge so as a lark we followed the road south until we reached the river that cut through Karalovo Village. I had no desire to fight through the trees that followed the water so we turned back and followed the road north and soon found the trail leading east to the lodge. After the trail turned south we saw in the distance the first of the hunter’s huts and Gazelle commented, “I hear men ahead enjoying themselves,” so I pulled my companions into the brush. “If Gazelle hears the hunters in camp, I am curious as to why be there when this is such a fine day for killing? Ruth, please ensure that our horses remain here, quiet as we search. But have them come if we call.”

She concentrated and the horses calmed and began to graze. “They will remain her and listen for our cries, but my range is limited and if I go too far I will loose control of them.”

“It will do. Now let us circle the camp in the brush, we to the east and Gazelle to the west and search for signs of their hunts. Be as quiet as you can.” And so I hiked my dress and tucked it into my belt to leave my legs below my knees free. Ruth wore her usual man’s clothing for ease of travel but my curse required me to always dress in woman’s fashion. I would be glad when fashion changed and allowed a higher hem or even pants at times. But despite my skirts, we managed to surround the camp, pausing to watch the men at their play. The stream that crossed near the actual lodge was too deep to cross easily so we retraced our steps and found Gazelle waiting for us at the horses.

“I followed the stream south past the lodge and saw no sign of man or horse in the brush. The road was well traveled though.” She reported.

“Strange how these claim to be hunters and yet I saw no dogs or hawks and no sign that they had left the lodge to enter the woods. And their numbers are small. Only the three we saw with no beaters or huntsmen. Perhaps I was wrong to remove these from my suspicions.” I sighed then pulled my dress free and took my horse to the path. Brushing the leaves from my dress, I said, “Let Gazelle remain nearby in hiding where she will be safe from their bolts though I saw no crossbow or long-bow. Be ready to come if we call my love. Ruth and I will approach, pretending to have accepted their invitation alone without guards and see what we can see. Hopefully all will be well.”

Ruth looked me over as I did her and when we were satisfied that we carried no evidence of our spying, we rode into the lodge calling out as we approached.

One of the men from last night came and took our reins as the leader approached and gave a bow that was totally inadequate for a woman of my station. But I forced a smile and lay my riding crop across my lap instead of his face and said, “I have come to accept your offer. I fear my time here is short and would be diverted from the dull tedium of my camp. So I left my guards behind and brought only my companion as we seek adventure and excitement.”

The man smiled through bad teeth and too much beard and replied, “My Lady, I think we can offer you much excitement. Please, allow me to assist you to dismount and share my humble meal.” He held his hands and I allowed him to help me from my steed though he almost took liberties as he did so. But I was aground and straightened my dress and asked, “Such a fine day, I had thought that you’d be seeking prey yet, thankfully, I find you here playing at dice.”

“We are very specific about what we hunt and have recently found what we seek. Tonight we shall go a hunting.” And his men laughed as if at a joke. “I am Anton, your host. Liviu here will care for your horses, fear not, they will be safe. And my other companion is Teodore the Bright. Come, let us drink and sup.” And he led us to the lodge which was in disrepair. I noticed that none helped Ruth dismount but that was not unexpected for they saw in her, a Jew and presumed servant, as someone beneath their dignity to notice.

As we sat in the lodge, and Anton filled our wooden flagons with beer, I commented, “I notice that you have an accent. You are not Bugars then?”

“No, My Lady, we are Romanian travelers seeking our fortunes as we go. Of course, with the war between the Ottoman and my country, travel is difficult and we must travel the back roads. But you, your appearance, manners and accent mark you as a foreigner too. May we hear your story?” He sat at that and all three leaned forward to listen with interest. Too much interest. Men rarely listen to a woman’s words even when they attempt to seduce them. Ruth leaned forward and whispered in my wear, “I smell wet dog but see and feel none.”

I nodded to her then began, forcing myself to pretend to drink the swill they called beer. “You must excuse my companion for her nose is unaccustomed to such a lodge. She was raised in a merchant’s home and so never hunted or accustomed herself to the smells of blood. As for me, I was not the son my father wished though he loved to hunt himself and so forced me to help butcher his kills. I am from Ireland which is a large island past England to the far west. I was traveling east to Nippon when I was diverted and am currently on my way to Venice with my servants and companions. This was an unfortunate and unexpected stop which delays my travels but promises excitement.”

He and his men laughed at that last word and Anton leaned closer, his breath stinking and said, “It must be dangerous for such a Noble Lady to travel with such a small retinue. Bandits abound. Doubtless your men know of your visit and will arrive shortly to ensure your safety.”

“My men remain in town upon errands that I have commanded. I fear no danger for my nation is not at war with any but the English so why should the Ottoman seek ransom from me? No, I was always head strung, more beer if you would please, I fear it is loosening my tongue, and I tend to go off without asking permission of my family. Oh they worry but got tired of forcing me to report to them of my travels. I fear sometimes they think they would be better off were I to never return. What do you hunt here?”

“Let me show you, dear lady.” Did I detect a sneer as he stood and pointed to the door?

We left the building, grateful for fresh air and I looked to our steeds to see them in the paddock, still saddled but with food and water. “Your horses are safe and well-cared for and will be ready for you when you wish.” This last by Teodore the Bright as we were led to a nearby hut. Anton opened the door and said, “we hunt the most glorious game of all,” then he pushed me inside and before I could find my balance tossed Ruth on top of me. The door was slammed shut and bolted as they laughed.

“Open this door Immediately!” I demanded attempting to stomp my foot in the dirt. “Release us you beasts!”

“Beasts? She called us beasts. Lady, I am the only beast that needs concern you and tonight, we hunt. And you are the prey. Rest up to give us a good chase.” And he laughed at us then turned away to resume his drinking and dicing.

I yelled at them for a moment but that was more for show for I was angry at being caught so easily. The room was empty but well made in it’s time. At least I couldn’t break free but a sound at the rear brought me from the door. “Is that you my love?” I asked.

“Yes, Janice. Stand back and I will break the walls.” Gazelle said back.

“No love, I want to wait until tonight. They never searched us, thinking we but helpless women and I have my wakazashi hidden in my skirt and Ruth her gift. With you free and waiting, I have no fear. Before we act, I wish to be certain that these are the ones we seek. Explore the area carefully but remain within call if you would. If they wish to hunt us, they will find these helpless does are long-fanged wolf-bitches.”

I returned to the door and called through the grill, “You, peasants for I now know your kind. If I am to be held for ransom, then feed us!” I thought it better if they thought of me as a head strung princess. So a few more minutes of this caused one to approach and hand us a bag with some bread and cheese within. “Eat well, you will need your strength.” And he laughed all the more.

I sat in the cleanest part of the hut and began to eat, handing some to Ruth who cried, “Lady, how can you be so calm? Those men seek to rape and kill and perhaps even consume us in their crimes.”

I kissed her and explained, “First, we are not prisoners. We can leave any time we wish for Gazelle can break these walls as if they were twigs. Second I am armed,” and I showed her my sword, “and I am an excellent swordswoman, doubtless far better than these men who are wheat to my scythe. Third I am hungry and a soldier learns to eat what and when they can to keep their strength. Forth, the more helpless they think us, the more careless they will act which aids us and hinders them. And fifth, They are already dead, I just haven’t told them that. So be brave and we will kill them at our leasure.”

The day was hot so I leaned back and dozed and awoke with Ruth in my arms, also asleep. She looked so helpless yet if need be, she would call every beast and bee and bird within this forest to protect her so she was far from the helpless girl she thought she was. As for me, I had been imprisoned and raped and tortured more times than I wished to think and was still alive and free and those who sought my harm were feeding the crows. It was just a matter of timing. Ruth stirred awake and asked, “What will happen?”

I looked to ensure we were alone and their voices showed that they were at a distance from us. “First they will search the area to ensure that we are alone and they will totally miss Gazelle. Then they will wait for dark. When it is dark enough and the moon has risen, they will release us to flee into the forest in terror. You will call whatever beast you can find to come and surround us. After they judge we have enough head, they will chase us, calling to us and promising no harm in their laughter. Then they will catch us, I will ensure that they catch us, but instead of the helpless girls they hunt, you will call your allies and I will draw my sword and Gazelle will approach and they will soon be dead.” She snuggled closer at that and said, “I am so glad I am with you.” And she returned to sleep. She looked so inviting and so helpless I wanted to pass the time in her arms, but without clothing between us. Instead I stroked her black hair, so unlike my yellowish-red and waited.

The sun began to set and I stirred to look out the bars. “It is almost time. Prepare yourself.” I ensured that my sword was hidden and secure but easily accessable when I needed it and prepared to hike my skirts up again. I’d need my legs free.

The three were preparing something but not a hunt. One built a tripod over the fire and hung a small pot near enough to simmer. The other began to drum a monotonous beat. Anton drew a circle about the tripod and another larger circle about that one. He then stripped naked to his waist and I saw that he was far hairier than most men. Anton added materials to the cauldron and began to chant something I couldn’t understand or hear well but he repeated it often as he walked around the circle. This took some time with him often stopping to breathe in the fumes from the simmering mixture.

“Damn!” I said to myself. “This isn’t what I expected. Ruth, call for Gazelle quietly and tell her that matters have changed. Anton is more dangerous than I thought.”

She went to do my bidding and watched Anton pull handfuls of the mixture from the pot and smear it all over his face, arms and chest then he put on a vest that I didn’t need to ask but knew it was wolf-skin. He then knelt and chanted a prayer over and over, shaking al the time in the darkness and finally ran off into the woods howling like a dog or wolf. Now Liviu came to unlatch out door. “You are free, ladies. Anton is waiting for you. If you reach your camp, you will be safe, if not,” he laughed, his breath reeking of cheap beer and too few mouth cleanings.

I took Ruth by the hand and edged past the man. Teodore was so engrossed in his drumming he couldn’t see or notice. Perhaps being downwind of the fire and the materials burning had made him drunk with hash. “Liviu,” I spoke. “You three have raped and killed many?”

“More than you can count. Now go before I use you first!” He laughed at his threat and grabbed my breast. That was when I drew and removed his arm at the shoulder with an upper cut. He fell to his knees as I stepped aside to avoid the blood and when he looked up, I said to him, “No matter how big and dangerous you are, there is always someone bigger and more dangerous.” I lay the blade of my wakzashi under his chin as I smiled, showing him my cleavage. “And, Liviu, that someone is me!” then I drew and his head fell from his shoulders.

Then I strode to Teodore the Bright who was so high on the hash burning in the fire that he watched me approach, watched me raise my sword in both hands and watched the steel flash as his life ended.

Taking Ruth by the hand, we moved quickly but without running for I wanted to conserve our strength, along the road. “Anton thinks he is a werewolf. Maybe he is but even if not, he has so many drugs in his body that he will be fast and strong and insane. That makes him harder to kill so be ready.”

“Lady, the horses! We can outrun him on horseback!” She pulled but I refused to let her go.

“I want him dead and how can I kill him if we outrun him. No, we play the role he gave and turn on him at bay, then we strike. Do you hear me love?” This last to the woods. I head a branch break and knew it was her affirmation so we strode along the road, almost running and occasionally me pretending to stumble. If I was to face him, I wanted it on level ground with the moon overhead to see, not in the gloom of forest where a misstep would trip over a root.

We reached the road and hesitated. North or south? North led to the Varna road, south to cross the river. I thought and heard a howl nearby. Anton was approaching so I pulled Ruth and said, ‘Run!” and we ran for the Varna road. I didn’t know how far away it was. A mile, less or more? But I thought Anton would seek to prolong his hunt, he would allow us to almost reach safety then he would strike. So we played the role of terrified girls as we ran to Varna and safety. I knew that Gazelle was near and I was armed so Anton was the hunted. I only wanted him near to ensure his death and not escape.

How long we ran I didn’t know. But I knew we were near the road when he stepped into the road before us. He growled and approached, hunched over seeking our terror. “Lady,” Ruth pulled at me. “I feel his mind. He isn’t a man! His mind is a wolf but I cannot control it. His thoughts are of rape and hunger and pain. Let us run quickly.”

“No Ruth, it is time. Stand back.” And I stood, pretending to gasp as she moved back in fear. He came forward, low and growling my name then he leapt and I stepped aside and cut, feeling resistance then the flow then jar that told me I had cur to his spine as he passed. I turned fast preparing to cut again but a huge shape came from the woods and Gazelle swung her heavy club and Anton never touched the ground, his body snapping as if Gazelle had stepped on a bug. Over he turned and landed finally, a broken heap a dozen or more feet from her stance.

I approached but there was no need for a trail of his guts ran from me to Gazelle then to the broken remains of our hunter. Either blow was instantly fatal, both were just insurance.

In the moonlight I saw the changes coming. Each time he cast the spell he got closer to being a wolf, this time he had a longer jaw, teeth and the hair was coarser fur. Maybe in another year he’d finally become the wolf he desired but my kind had bred the Wolfhound to hunt his kind and so there were few werewolves left in Ireland. I took his hair in one hand and another cut and his head was removed. Sometimes you just want to make certain and sometimes you just want to cut them into dog-food in anger.

We rode our horses with the three new ones into Karalovo near dawn. I was exhausted, Ruth was asleep in the saddle and only Gazelle was fresh. I stopped by the mayor’s house and had Gazelle pound upon the door until he was awake. “The men who killed Bogdana and the others are dead. One lies burning near the Varna road and the road to the hunting lodge. The other two lie in their blood at the lodge. Do as you will but I need sleep, then food.” Then we continued to our house where we awoke Hansel and Gretel who fussed over us and insisted on washing our bodies until we were clean, then as we crawled into bed, they began the process of cleaning our clothes. Yes, I would miss these when we found their families.

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Table of Contents for Adaption.
Conversion. The arrival of Janice in Russia and the details of her curse. note: hidden until someone wants to read it.
Chapter One. Their leaving the Amazons and travels across Georgia.
Chapter Two. Their entry into the Ottoman Empire at Crimea. note: not finished
Chapter Three. Their travels within The Ottoman Empire.
Chapter Four. Their leaving the Ottoman Empire and visiting Translyvania.
Chapter Five. Their vacation in Bucharest.
Chapter Six. Their visiting Bulgaria.
Chapter Seven. Their visiting Greece. note: not yet written
Chapter Eight. Her visiting Venice. note: not yet written
Retreival. Their travels to Japan to rescue Janice's daughter. note: hidden until someone wants to read it.

Characters in these stories. Here you will find who these people and places are.

To contact me or to request topics to be covered, send to RikJohnson@juno.com
by: Rick Johnson
PO Box 40451
Tucson, Az.
85717

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