She left Ozorne in surprise. He stared at the door long after her
departure. What a head on those small shoulders.He could think of some
other nice parts of her body, but shook his head at the distraction. She
would not be an easy slave. She would not turn around the next morning and
willingly warm his bed. It would take a while. And Ozorne was not a patient
man. Slowly, as he sat staring at the door she had slammed, a plan began to
form in his mind. One of the other slaves had asked to speak with him about
Farrah. She had said that she had overheard Farrah speaking with another
girl, about a plan to leave.He had dismissed it at the time, but as the
told day approached, he wondered. It was very likely that the next day at
midnight, Farrah would try to take her leave of the palace. And if she
did.Ozorne would be waiting.
By midnight the next day, Farrah was wide-awake. She was lying on her pallet, waiting for her time to leave. There were two girls who were scheduled to sneak out before her. The last girl had left seven minutes ago. Farrah closed her eyes a moment, and took a deep breath. Then she stood silently, and picked her way carefully through the sleeping slaves. She opened the door a crack, and peered out. No guard. He must be tending to other duties.Farrah shivered as she thought of what those could be. Quickly, she darted out of the room, practically flying through the shadows. She was nearing the entrance she was to leave by when she heard it. Feet. Lots of them. She pulled herself up short in a dark corner, and peeked around. There were five to fifteen soldiers milling about. Farrah caught her breath, and turned back around, thinking. Then she heard the voice that nearly shattered her nerves.
"All right, men. You will patrol this area, and watch for anyone who is not to be here." The Emperor told the soldiers.
Farrah closed her eyes, and thought. How was she to get away? The shadows. Those were her answer. That's how she was to sneak away. She glanced over once more, and took a breath. Then she darted around the corner, hugging the wall as tightly as she could, remaining in the shadows. Slowly - very slowly - she inched around the guards. And soon she reached the entrance doors. She opened them slightly, and looked out. The two men who watched the doors at all hours had been diverted - how, she knew not. IN any case, she snuck through the doors - and into the wide, un-covered courtyard. She could see a group of people standing anxiously at the edge of the courtyard. A closer inspection showed a few slaves she recognized. Taking a deep breath, she bolted for the group.
She was nearly halfway toward them when they began to run from her. Confused, she ran faster, but they only sped up. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she saw something that made her stumble and fall, twisting her foot beneath her. She stifled a cry, not knowing why she bothered. They knew she was there already. Behind her, a whole group of soldiers were running after her, and Ozorne with them. Of course, he was to dignified to run. He walked sedately behind the soldiering mass. Painfully, Farrah tried to rise to her feet. Once she was standing, she took a moment to steady herself. Then she tried to run.
And promptly fell forward, landing painfully on her hands. Looking behind her, she could see the guards closing in, and in front of her, the other slaves were out of sight. There was no hope for her know. Of course, she didn't realize this yet. Struggling on her hands and knees, she fought for every inch she took.
In minutes, she was grabbed from behind and forced to her feet, held at a height that she couldn't rightly stand or kneel at. Her foot was twisted at a strange angle, and she could barely keep her head up. Despite her preparations, and the adrenaline rush of moments before, it was the middle of the night.
She fought her head up, glaring into the face of Carthak's Emperor.
"Trying to escape, are we?" He drawled out.
She spat at his feet. "Damn you," she whispered. Ozorne nodded to the soldier holding her, and all to suddenly she felt herself being pushed to her knees. Farrah felt a hand at her neck, and then cold air on her bare back as the man ripped the already ragged shirt open. He tied her hands with a length of rope.
And then she heard the slither of a whip being uncoiled. Her eyes widened in dread. Clenching her teeth, she tensed her back, and waited for the first blow.
By midnight the next day, Farrah was wide-awake. She was lying on her pallet, waiting for her time to leave. There were two girls who were scheduled to sneak out before her. The last girl had left seven minutes ago. Farrah closed her eyes a moment, and took a deep breath. Then she stood silently, and picked her way carefully through the sleeping slaves. She opened the door a crack, and peered out. No guard. He must be tending to other duties.Farrah shivered as she thought of what those could be. Quickly, she darted out of the room, practically flying through the shadows. She was nearing the entrance she was to leave by when she heard it. Feet. Lots of them. She pulled herself up short in a dark corner, and peeked around. There were five to fifteen soldiers milling about. Farrah caught her breath, and turned back around, thinking. Then she heard the voice that nearly shattered her nerves.
"All right, men. You will patrol this area, and watch for anyone who is not to be here." The Emperor told the soldiers.
Farrah closed her eyes, and thought. How was she to get away? The shadows. Those were her answer. That's how she was to sneak away. She glanced over once more, and took a breath. Then she darted around the corner, hugging the wall as tightly as she could, remaining in the shadows. Slowly - very slowly - she inched around the guards. And soon she reached the entrance doors. She opened them slightly, and looked out. The two men who watched the doors at all hours had been diverted - how, she knew not. IN any case, she snuck through the doors - and into the wide, un-covered courtyard. She could see a group of people standing anxiously at the edge of the courtyard. A closer inspection showed a few slaves she recognized. Taking a deep breath, she bolted for the group.
She was nearly halfway toward them when they began to run from her. Confused, she ran faster, but they only sped up. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she saw something that made her stumble and fall, twisting her foot beneath her. She stifled a cry, not knowing why she bothered. They knew she was there already. Behind her, a whole group of soldiers were running after her, and Ozorne with them. Of course, he was to dignified to run. He walked sedately behind the soldiering mass. Painfully, Farrah tried to rise to her feet. Once she was standing, she took a moment to steady herself. Then she tried to run.
And promptly fell forward, landing painfully on her hands. Looking behind her, she could see the guards closing in, and in front of her, the other slaves were out of sight. There was no hope for her know. Of course, she didn't realize this yet. Struggling on her hands and knees, she fought for every inch she took.
In minutes, she was grabbed from behind and forced to her feet, held at a height that she couldn't rightly stand or kneel at. Her foot was twisted at a strange angle, and she could barely keep her head up. Despite her preparations, and the adrenaline rush of moments before, it was the middle of the night.
She fought her head up, glaring into the face of Carthak's Emperor.
"Trying to escape, are we?" He drawled out.
She spat at his feet. "Damn you," she whispered. Ozorne nodded to the soldier holding her, and all to suddenly she felt herself being pushed to her knees. Farrah felt a hand at her neck, and then cold air on her bare back as the man ripped the already ragged shirt open. He tied her hands with a length of rope.
And then she heard the slither of a whip being uncoiled. Her eyes widened in dread. Clenching her teeth, she tensed her back, and waited for the first blow.